because there is always only more grace

We’ve had several days this week with back to back…to back to back, ice storms that made the outside world here in central Oklahoma actually stop moving. No school. No work (for many). Church events, and even sports events, canceled. Offices, including the Court House, closed because workers could not get there thanks to the layers and sheets of ice that came with each wave.

This kind of weather, paired with the icy cold temperatures, is never good for my body. In particular, it makes me very aware of every aching joint! And this pain tends to make me ornery, I confess. Yet in spite of the weather and what it does to my body, this week I have not felt confined, restricted, or claustrophobic – which is my usual M.O.

Instead, I found myself welcoming the time it gave me to just be still. In spite of feeling the aches of my body, I have enjoyed the quiet that this icy outside world brought to my inside world. I even stopped reading email and messages, much to others’ chagrin!

In truth, I started the week wondering how well I’m “doing” Lent so far. Then I read this great quote by St. Teresa of Avila, featured in my daughter’s regular column in our archdiocesan newspaper, the Sooner Catholic:

“We gain more in a single day by trials that come to us from God and our neighbor than we would in 10 years of penance and other exercises that we would take upon ourselves.” (you can read the whole column here).

As I pondered on St. Teresa’s words, I realized that I could give myself permission to stop analyzing, stop dissecting my own actions and intentions—something that always ends up in my loud inner critic taking over. I could stop making myself feel guilty for not keeping up with life, my inbox, or my Lenten resolutions.

That’s when it dawned on me. Even my guilt is still self-centered!

So what’s the alternative? Well, the other option is to simply notice and pay attention – without judging – to what’s going on inside me, physically, emotionally, spiritually. 

What am I feeling? How is God here, in this moment?

Am I really being lazy, or does my body just need rest?

How does this week – as it is – fit into my Lent journey?

What is God inviting me to,

 what do I hear Him saying?

I continue to hold all of you in my prayers, especially as we move forward (or simply continue) this holy season of Lent…

page from one of my old journals

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"There is always only more grace. 

And it’s always more than I expect… 

Praise him for the unexpected and the unlikely, for the daily and the difficult, and the graces in disguise. The more you count, the more gifts you will see. Do not disdain the small.”

~Ann Voskamp,

“One Thousand Gifts,”

#SmallMerciesMiércoles: can I be grateful for change itself?

Rejoice in the Spring-time of the year. Let there be Spring-time in your hearts. The full time of fruit is not yet but there is the promise of the blossom. 

Know surely that your lives too are full of glad promise. Such blessings are to be yours. Such joys, such wonders. 

All is indeed well. Live in My Sunshine and My Love.

~April 30 entry in “God Calling,” 

edited by A.J. Russell

Spring-time in Oklahoma can mean just about anything. Cool temperatures. Warm weather. Dry conditions. Unceasing rain. 

Yet two variables seem constant lately:  unrelenting winds, and always, the possibility of serious storms.

The terrifying, destructive storms that hit across the southern states earlier this week left Oklahoma untouched this time.  And in spite of the wind that comes sweeping down the plains, just like the song “Oklahoma” promises, we’ve had gorgeous weather… mostly sunshine, beautiful cloud formations, and temperatures in the upper 50s and low 60s.

Much like the capricious Oklahoma weather, life can and does change in an instant. Without any warning, a storm can quickly develop, wrap its arms around me, and literally change my life forever.

Now be honest. What did you imagine when you read that sentence—something terrible or something amazing and good?  

Change can be either, or both!

On this #SmallMerciesMiércoles, I choose to be grateful for exactly that, the change itself. 

Whether good, bad, or yet unknown—I entrust it all to the One who loves me most, best, and forever.

Oklahoma weather and becoming Eucharist

Just two nights ago, my parents, two of my children and their spouses and all three of our grandchildren—all piled into a small double closet under the stairs as we took shelter from possible tornadoes nearby on yet another crazy Oklahoma stormy night.

Photographer: Carlos Weaver

courtesy of  Life Teen, Mesa, Arizona

When it comes to weather, May is always a nutty month in Central Oklahoma. We know all too well the rules and patterns of severe weather and tornadoes. But even around here, the past couple of weeks have been especially treacherous.

Once the anxious hours were behind us, I found myself pondering about this experience in light of our feast this weekend. We celebrate what once upon a time as a child we called Corpus Christi—and we now call the feast of the Holy Body and Blood of Christ. 

Someone asked me recently what difference does the Eucharist make in my daily life, how can it affect what we label as “real life”?  For me, it means everything.

It’s what my wise pastor calls the difference between taking communion and becoming communion. It is more than Christ being in us. We, in communion, are in Christ!

Fr. Boyer leads school children in a Eucharistic procession

Here’s how Fr. Thomas Boyer described it in his homily this weekend. We gather together as a Church so that every time we assemble around the altar, 

“we may become more and more the very Christ we consume, so that finally having been gathered in communion and grafted onto this vine, no one will be hungry, no one will go away thirsty from this well of divine life, and all creation where ever we are found will in glory reflect the creator whose life is our privilege to share and whose gifts bring the duty to give. The Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ is the Church in Communion from which no one should be sent away.”

 [To read his whole homily, go here] 

Our blood family came through the storms with nothing but stories to tell. But our Church family is hurting. Our friend Gary told me today that his mother, his brother, and his sister-in-law all lost their houses and are, literally, “starting from scratch.”

And our young friend Ken, one of those infamous storm-chasers, told me after Mass that he had just found out that his friend, afellow storm-chaser, died covering Friday night’s storms.

When one hurts, we all hurt. This is the Church in Communion.