honeysuckle

there are vines and vines of honeysuckle growing in our back yard.  if you' ve never smelled honeysuckle, its sweet and it smells like you're not in new jersey,  if you've ever smelled new jersey, that is.

you can usually smell it first thing in the morning and at night, especially after a rain.  

it reminds me of the sweetness that can come when you least expect it.  who would know that the vines growing all over your fence that look like weeds will produce simple little blooms that carry in themselves a scent that fills a whole garden.  each breath becomes a pleasure, a dream that gives way to a feeling of release from the day, from the world, from anything you catagorize in the 'rut' section of your day...

oh no...the honey suckle is magical.  it reminds me of other times the unexpected sweetness came...like the night me and my sister denise were caught in the rain in the back of a pick up truck in key west, and she kept asking 'where's the beach' and i pointed to the side of the road 10 feet away from us and said, 'there, there it is...right there is the atlantic.....'or the time me and paulie sat on a curb behind his motorcycle on the side of the road and told each other that we loved eachother...or....well you know what i mean.

life is sweet, and the honeysuckle reminds me that the sweetest things in life are usually unexpected, not obvious, but pungeant enough to fill your whole being with beauty that can transport you, transform you....take you to your best places.

once the nieghbors tried to cut it down, because it grows from thier yard over our fence, but i asked them not to, so they didn't cut it.

sometimes the people you least expect are responsible for the sweetness.  like my old friend from college who i had all but lost touch with asking me to be his 8 year old daugher's god mother.  

you just never know.

on praying....

I pray all the time. In fact, as soon as I stop praying, I become aware that I've stopped, and I start again.
I have different categories of prayer, and different settings, and different motivations, but I'm always praying.
This is sort of the process:

If I'm happy, I'm thanking God. If I'm upset, I'm asking for help. If I'm lost, I ask for direction. If I'm angry, I ask for patience. If I'm talking to my kids, I try to ask for the right words, but if I speak too fast, I ask for the words to make it better.
I pray for the brains to keep my mouth shut, and the courage to open it, and the wisdom to know when to do what. Then I pray that I did or said the right thing. Or I pray for forgiveness when I realize I didn't do or say the right thing.

I ask for strength constantly.

Strength to live my life, to change my life, to be a better person, mother, teacher, friend.

I pray to be able to hear God's voice, then to actually LISTEN to it.

I pray for the people who hurt me. I pray for the people I hurt. I pray to be able to tell the difference between the two.

I pray for the ones I love. I thank God for the way they touch my life, support me, depend on me, and love me back.

I pray for people I don't even know in remote corners of the world.

Sometimes, when I pray, I beat myself up for my pride, my selfishness, my ignorance, my carelessness.
But when I come out on the other side of this particular prayer, I always end up feeling forgiven, and at the very least, tolerated.

I pray the most in the shower. I ask for inspiration and insight into particular issues, worries and concerns I have. I'm very specific and I listen very carefully, then pray that the answer is from God and not from me.

I worship the best in liturgy. I have moments of joy that I can't explain when I'm in church. Those moments almost always include someone receiving the Eucharist, whether it's a little kid, or a teenager, or someone with a disability, or an older couple who receive communion side by side, or someone whose story I happen to know, coming to the table.

Those are the moments of most profound grace, and I thank God that I'm allowed to feel it, even for a second. I thank God intensely for the gifts that allow me to be in this place.
I pray the quietest just when I'm about to fall asleep, when I take inventory of my day, and allow God's love and forgiveness to take over so I can stop thinking and rest.

Sometimes, when I pray, I hear words that keep my mind in one direction. These are some of the words I hear:

'I will not forget you, I have carved you on the palm of my hand', from Isaiah, when I feel alone.
'You know what is good, and what the Lord requires of you, only to do justice, love tenderness, and walk humbly with God', From Micah, when I need direction.
'Blessed are the poor in spirit' from Matthew, when I feel prideful.
'What ever he says to you, do it' , Mary's words from John's gospel, when I need a push.

I hear the words from the 'Magnificat':'For the mighty God has done great things for me', and the words 'our God is an awesome God', when I thank God for my crazy life.

I mentally recite 1 Corinthians 13 when I'm taking inventory of the relationships I have with the people around me.

Mostly, I live my life by these:

'Love one another' keeps me aware that I need to be compassionate and non-judging, that I have to try to look for the good in someone, even when it's hard for me, and ask for forgiveness when I just can't find it.
'Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us', reminds me that I need to be forgiving, because the only way I can believe that I'm forgiven is if I myself have a concept of it for others.

And the big one that starts in Eucharist and carries into my whole life: 'Lord, I am not worthy to receive you, only say the word, and I will be healed.' For me, the 'word' begins with a capital W, and reminds me that I am healed through that word, spoken, incarnate, Jesus Christ, over and over.

When I pray, I give things over. I say, ok, I'm done with it, I'm scared and uncertain, and I can't do it, so you do it. Then I pray for the courage to let it happen.

And I'm a 'proactive pray-er'. I don't wait. I don't give up. Even when I feel the most damaged, I refuse to stand without God, refuse to think that God will move out of my heart. I refuse to think that I am unforgiven, or unheard. I know that God loves
me and knows me and hears me and moves me through my life, and I refuse to believe any thing less. So I keep praying.

I can hear Saint Paul, echoing Jesus, saying:
'Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, shall guard your heart and your minds in Christ Jesus.'


.

storms

i'm watching paulie and sparky sleep....paulie works in the thunder and lightning at the top of giant stadium. sparky shakes and hides in the tub when the storms come. i don't do either. i like to watch the storm from someplace safe because i'm not afraid but i'm not looking for trouble.

this morning's storm was trouble anyway, whether i was looking for it or not. sparky shook and wouldn't stay without us. we ended up taking him to nonna's so he wouldn't be alone. we didn't have much of a choice, since he squirmed out the front door and wouldn't come inside. he stood by the car.

i left my car window open and the seat got wet when the storm came, so i sang at a funeral this moring with a wet behind. the air was on in the church, so wet became freezing, and i was very cold, although not as cold as the guest of honor, no disrespect meant.
the cold made it hard to sing, especially 'be not afraid' which isn't my favorite anyway, and the cold and the morning made it hard to concentrate.

i was distracted by thoughts of my shaking dog and my mother watching him and whether or not he was peeing on her rug.

once at a funeral someone's pants fell down on the way up to communion. once we had clowns. sometime's we have bagpipes. today the candles wouldn't stay lit.

it's always something. sometimes we do laugh (discretely, of course).

sometimes we cry, though. today we did, because he had kids. but the kids weren't crying, they were very brave, and were weathering that particular storm very well at that moment, although i'm sure there will be a time when they shake and won't be comforted.

like sparky when it thunders.

sparky will sleep good tonight, not like last night when he shook on the floor on paulie's side of the bed. sometimes i pet him and try to send good 'energy' like caesar says. sometimes i let him shake, but i never sleep when he shakes. paulie sleeps and that's a good thing, because you need you're wits about you when you work in the thunder and lightning at the top of giant stadium, and its suppose to rain again tomorrow. but not tonight. we'll all sleep good tonight, i think.

for now there are no storms.