learning to hunger for Christ

It is only the first week of Lent and it is already clear to me that this year’s 40-day pilgrimage is going to be different. 

Some things, of course, are not. I am already procrastinating about making any real changes –and I admit that I am all too willing to find just the perfect explanation (aka. excuse) to break my resolutions.

Yes, already, after only six days of Lent!

All that aside, it does feel different. 

Perhaps it’s the convergence of Lent and the Year of Mercy? Or maybe it is celebrating this Extraordinary Jubilee Year of Mercy within the context of publicity for my new book and my efforts to make known Father Stanley Rother’s inspiring life?  Or all of the above?

Something is helping me take notice… and hear… what I often and normally miss.

“…we pray, O Lord,

that we may learn to hunger for Christ,

the true and living Bread,

and strive to live by every word

which proceeds from your mouth.”

~ prayer after communion, 1^st Sunday of Lent

My God, I am yours for time and eternity. Teach me to cast myself entirely into the arms of your loving Providence with a lively, unlimited confidence in your compassionate, tender pity. Grant, O most merciful Redeemer, that whatever you ordain or permit may be acceptable to me. Take from my heart all painful anxiety; let nothing sadden me but sin, nothing delight me but the hope of coming to the possession of You my God and my all, in your everlasting kingdom. Amen.

~CatherineMcAuley

“But maybe a ‘leap’ isn’t the most appropriate metaphor for this spiritual journey… we are called to ‘continuing conversion.’ We do not simply just fall deeper and deeper into our faith after our baptism or initial conversion. We are called to keep jumping. We talk of that ‘leap of faith,’ but our reality is one of multiple leaps, every day. Tiny jumps, or steps, even, sometimes just the distance it takes for our feet to go from the bed to the floor. It is that forward motion that keeps us going, that keeps saying that today will be better. Today I will try harder. Today I might fail. But I am still loved.”

~Kerry Weber, reflecting on RCIA

“Rite of Calling the Candidates to Continuing Conversion,” 

from her gem of a book,

“Mercy in the City: How to feed the hunger,

give drink to the thirsty,

visit the imprisoned,

and keep your day job.”  

 [ all photos © Maria Ruiz Scaperlanda, 2016 ]

noticing alliteration, texts and sunshine: it's #SmallSuccess Thursday

"We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures."

~Thornton Wilder

“If the only prayer you said in your whole life was, "thank you," that would suffice.” 

~Meister Eckhart 

If it's true that we have to hear something stated seven times before we actually hear it, perhaps that explains the wide assortment of sources reminding us, as a culture, of the obvious fact that gratefulness is important.

Take for example, the field of science. Last year, the University of California Berkeley announced a $3.1 million (yes, I said millions!) research study on gratitude, explaining that their Greater Good Science Center researchers would be able to study “the psychology, sociology, and neuroscience of well-being and how we foster a more thriving, resilient, and compassionate society.”

And a recent Psychology Today article that emphasized: “Gratitude is a sentiment we'd all do well to cultivate, according to positive psychologists, mental health clinicians and researchers who seek to help everyone create more joy in life. Feeling thankful and expressing that thanks makes you happier and heartier—not hokier.”

This is not rocket science. We hardly need a study to tell us that the practice of counting our blessings is good for us.

But perhaps we do need to hear it everywhere—stressed by doctors, psychologists, researchers, and neuroscientists, before we—before I—embrace the practice with my whole heart.

Being grateful requires me to pay attention, to be present to the moment. Or in my current favorite word, it compels me to notice!

So -- I am excited this week to join the #SmallSuccess Thursday project at CatholicMom.com. Here are my simple 3 Small Successes.

May noticing them help me grow in gratitude for the abundant blessings in my life! 

Amen.

• #1, for my husband’s daily handwritten, alliterated messages on the board on our fridge – which I confess, make me giggle. Today’s announcement: thunderous thoughtful thriving Thursday!

• #2, for the texts, photos and emails from my four young adult children—sometimes practical, often funny, and always loving.  I am so grateful that they take the time to connect with me during their busy days!

• #3, the weather this afternoon in central Oklahoma: 60 degrees of sunshine. Enough said.

Note: 
I will write soon -- tomorrow? -- about our wonderful experience at St. Mary of the Annunciation in Illinois this past weekend!

why I will never say dachshund or Schwarzenegger

The word gusano in Spanish is generally used interchangeably to mean a caterpillar or a worm. Of course Spanish has more technical or scientific names for these two very different creatures, but on a day-to-day basis—unless you’re describing a person (and that’s a whole different topic), you would use the same word for both creatures.

I had never given this detail a second thought until the other night when I read to Elenita the Eric Carle book, “The Very Hungry Caterpillar”—over and over and over.

Now imagine her face when I accidentally called that caterpillar a worm! Needless to say, it won’t be long before my Elena starts correcting my words.

The fact that English is my second language is never too far from my awareness. Not because I don’t consider myself proficient in English—sometimes even more than in Spanish!

But, like the character Ziva David in the popular TV show NCIS, the problem is that there’s a plethora of English phrases that don’t make sense to me (I’m collecting a list of those for a separate blog post!).

Add to that the fact that, even though I can spell them perfectly, I will constantly mispronounce words like “salmon,” “cemetery,” or “chutney,” yes,  after all these years! By the way, my family can come up with a list of examples at lightening speed.

The reality is that some things will always be clearer and more beautiful for me in my first, and in a very real way, my native heart language—for instance, poetry, Bible verses, or a Gloria Estefan song.

When praying with Scripture, it is not unusual for me to seek not only a different translation, but also the Spanish version. I can’t explain it other than to say that I can tell that I’m missing something in the nuance of the English verse, and then I see it clearly when I compare it to the Spanish.

Ultimately, however, I credit my language issues with providing me with a keen attention to and understanding about how I use words—and how important particular words are for true and intimate communication.

Having to think in two languages makes me notice—and that’s a spiritual practice that I strive to continually develop.

But honestly, please don’t ever ask me to pronounce dachshund or Schwarzenegger. I’m scarred for life.

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Important note:

Speaking of words, my good friend, editor and poet Jeff Hensley has a new site where he is publishing online his poetry, called words-words-words--poetry. Check it out here.