"You will burn up the whole world"

By Patricia

Dove Window, St. Peter's Basilica (Wikimedia Commons)

“Francis, put out that fire in you, or you will burn up the whole world!”

Thus said one of Francis of Assisi’s friars to the seraphic Saint.
I had never heard this before, but we had a visiting Franciscan friar for Mass today, and I was delighted with the story.

Can you imagine setting the world on fire with love for God? St. Catherine of Siena said something similar: “If you become what you should be, you will set the world on fire.”

I love the Saints. They fascinate me endlessly. How did they get like that?  Why are they all on fire? What is their secret?

Father Bob said that Saints are not so much about loving God as they are about being astonished at God’s Love for them. They come to know His Love, and are consumed with the desire for everyone to love Him. The flames leap out of them, catch others, and they begin to burn too.

I ponder my own little heart which has a few smoldering embers at best. After all this time, I can barely keep my fire lit. Yet Father said we are all like containers into which God pours His Holy Spirit to inflame us, and everyone we encounter. 


Continue reading at Patricia's blog I Want to See God.

My widow's mite

By Patricia

Jesus sat down opposite the place where the offerings were put and watched the crowd putting their money into the temple treasury. Many rich people threw in large amounts. But a poor widow came and put in two very small copper coins, worth only a few cents. Calling his disciples to him, Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others.  They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything—all she had to live on.” (Mark 12:41-44)

Jesus is so delightful.  Nothing escapes His notice….the story of the “widow’s mite” is  a perfect example.  He not only observed her with obvious love and kindness, but He deemed her example worthy of pointing out to His apostles…and to us.

When I think of this story, I believe that Jesus is speaking not only of money, but of everything we offer to God.

I know many people who have wonderful gifts of teaching and speaking and leadership and organization etc., who really make a difference in my parish and diocese.  But, I’m not one of them.  I don’t have those gifts.

It has always been that way.  I was the quiet, compliant child who prayed that the teacher wouldn’t call on me, not because I didn’t know the answer, but because I knew my face would blush bright red as soon as I heard my name.


Continue reading at Patricia's blog I Want to See God.

Miracle babies and the pain of infertility

By Patricia

The Birth of John the Baptist by Tintoretto (Wikimedia Commons)

While my husband was checking out at Sam’s this afternoon, I took a seat in the snack area nearby.  And it was there that it captured me….a tiny, delicately sculpted foot with dimples and miniature toes….a perfect work of art.  I always marvel at that fresh beauty of a baby’s little fingers and toes, appearing almost too perfect to be real…like a masterpiece of purest wax.

This tiny, kicking foot was kissed and cuddled by an adorable little girl of about four, no doubt sister to whom I later saw was a baby boy of a few months, peacefully nursing from his bottle.  And, I didn’t cry.  Those of you who know my story might have expected that.

But not this time.  As I watched the husband and father of this trio gather his family together, I was lost in thought over the wondrous power they possessed.

Do they ever think about such things….these life- bearers entrusted with clothing in flesh the very children of God?   I know that we, the infertile, the barren, probe this mystery in breathless and unending fascination, turning it round and round, in wondrous contemplation.

But what of us?  Are we forgotten, somehow cursed by God, disgraced and covered in shame as once believed not so long ago…and surprisingly, somewhat in our own day.

Continue reading at Patricia's blog I Want to See God.

Like nails on a blackboard

By Patricia

Statue of St. Therese with her father, Bl. Louis Martin
(Wikimedia Commons).

“….I saw only too well how very imperfect was my love for my Sisters; I did not really love them as Jesus loves them. I see now that true charity consists in bearing with the faults of those about us, never being surprised at their weaknesses, but edified at the least sign of virtue.”

The Hidden Face by Ida Gorres, p. 240

Today I had to deal with someone whose total self-absorption gives me that nails-on-a-blackboard feeling. They frequently seek me out to relate their most recent trials and tribulations, which they deem to trump any that others will ever have to bear. Never is there an inquiry as to how I am doing, and if I happen to mention any of my problems, I am met with deafening silence. This goes on regularly, and my association with this person is such that I cannot avoid these encounters.

I am grateful as always for the wisdom of Therese, which makes me look beyond the surface. I know that this is a wounded person, and that they probably need the attention. As for me, should I really be seeking sympathy from others?

When I truly need it, I’m sure the Lord will send it. But most often, I believe He loves us to turn to Him for comfort, rather than to fellow creatures. I know that he permits us to be rebuffed to whittle down our pride, and remind us to be willing to suffer our little travails for love of Him.


Continue reading at  I Want to See God..

You were made for glory

By Patricia

Christ in the House of His Parents by Millais (photo credit: Wikimedia Commons).

A few days ago, I asked Our Blessed Lady to be the mistress of my home, and that I might be her servant girl.  I am in dire need of her loving presence, guidance and wisdom in my vocation as wife, mother and homemaker…and every other aspect of my life as well.

So, I’ve been listening, eager to hear her advice.  Yesterday, I was busy about those boring, mundane chores which most of us have to do on a regular basis.

I get tired of dusting and vacuuming and cleaning out the refrigerator.  Whilst wielding my Swiffer duster, I daydream of doing other things…at least writing a blog post, or maybe even an e-book.  I wish I lived in a bigger city where there were more exciting things to do.  Nothing ever happens here.  I wish I could make a 30 day retreat, or even travel to all the places of pilgrimage in the world or be involved in Catholic radio.  I still have dozens of books left to read, and if I could work on being an Olympic figure skater… I wish…..hmmm.


Yesterday, I washed the kitchen curtains, and as I struggled to slip the rod past the seam, it got hung up, and I tried to be patient as I maneuvered the fabric.

Then I thought of Jesus, working with Joseph in the carpenter shop in Nazareth.  Jesus, laboring by the sweat of His brow, struggling to shape furniture out of wood… He Who twirls the planets and makes the stars twinkle, and fashions each snowflake into a tiny work of art.


Continue reading at Patricia's blog I Want to See God.

Suffering--get it while you can

By Patricia

The Lamentation  by Pulzone (photo credit: Wikimedia Commons).

An acquaintance of mine died last week.

I said a prayer for her when I heard the news, and then I whispered, “Pat, rest in peace. You have finished your work, completed your journey.”

I think about that journey a lot. My friend didn’t make it to the three score and ten mentioned in the Bible. We just never know.

There is something uniquely precious about living in our imperfect world. It is only an instant in even the longest of lives. What are a 100 years compared to eternity?  Yet, we have only this breath, this heartbeat of time in which to determine our eternal destination, and to labor for God’s Glory.

I, who do not relish suffering, still value it and this amazing moment in my existence when it actually costs me to offer something precious to God.

It is quite thrilling to be among the Church Militant, marching through the battlefield of life, buffeted by the blows of pain, loneliness, rejection, grief and a thousand other sufferings which we encounter on our journey.

I think how tenderly Jesus watches over us as we bear our wounds for love of Him.  His eyes never leave us and His Heart almost breaks with compassion.  Yet, when we are brave, and offer up as best we can these trials, surely He is so pleased, so very proud of us. 


Read the rest at Patricia's blog I Want to See God.

Do you know your ruling grace?

by Patricia

Coronation of the Virgin with Six Saints by Ghirlandaio (photo credit: Wikimedia Commons).

I first encountered St. Peter Julian Eymard when I came across his marvelous nine volume set of little books devoted to the Holy Eucharist.

As I began to collect these treasures penned by the French priest who founded the Blessed Sacrament Fathers, I found myself particularly drawn to one, simply titled “Holy Communion.”

My somewhat tattered copy of this little book is heavily highlighted, especially within the chapter named The Grace of Life.  In this little chapter, I learned from St. Peter Julian something I had not heard of before…that each soul seeking the way of perfection on the spiritual journey possesses a “ruling grace.”

"It is a grace of perfection which demands much more than the mere accomplishment of the law; it is the life, the sanctity of the soul.

"…[I]in the supernatural order, there are ruling graces, accessory graces, and complementary graces.  Of the ruling graces, a single one is sufficient to lead to perfection.  They give life and force to all other graces; they are the seal and impress of a life"  (Holy Communion, pp. 170-171).

Did you ever wonder why you may not be especially attracted to fasting and penance, or why you admire those who work intensely with the poor, but you yourself do not seem drawn to do so?  Do you struggle to have a constant awareness of Our Lord’s Passion, or become frustrated because you cannot seem to pray the rosary as often as you think you should?

If so, the above virtues and devotions are most likely not your ruling grace…the grace of your life.  The “impress” of your life.

"The ruling grace of a soul has two effects:  first, it points out the path the soul must follow in its spiritual conduct; second, it guides the soul to a special vocation."


Read the rest at Patricia's blog I Want to See God.

Do you know why God made you?

by Patricia

Jesus and the Children from the L.A. Cathedral Mausoleum (photo in Public Domain).

 

Why did God create you?  Do you ever think about that?  I do.

Many years ago while on retreat, I wrote across the top of the first page of my journal:  Dear God, what is my purpose in life?  Who am I supposed to be?

I prayed all weekend for an answer, bringing my question continually before the Lord.  But I never heard an answer…and I was somewhat disappointed.

But, now years later, I realize that I didn’t hear the answer because I was listening for the wrong kind of answer.  I wanted something specific and concrete.  I wanted to leave my retreat with a plan…maybe even a list which I could check off.  Here is what God has sent me to do.  Here is how I will make a difference in the world.   I wanted a mission.

But as the years passed, and life moved on with its sorrows and its joys, I began to hear the answer I sought.  It is always the same, and it takes root deeper and deeper in my heart, and the joy it imparts is a reassuring certainty.

Today, I heard a young woman describe her very first visit to the Eucharistic Adoration chapel in her parish.

She went in, not knowing what to expect.  And to her amazement, she saw a type of vision…one which arose within her imagination.  She saw a large tree and beneath it she was seated with Jesus.  To her great surprise, Jesus carved His initials and hers in the tree, and then He drew a heart around it.

He looked at her so tenderly and told her, “You could never understand how very much I love you.  Fall in love with Me.  I so much want you to fall in love with Me.”

Then she went on to say that God  always knows just what we need to hear, and the way we need to hear it.

And, I understood.  So many times in the adoration chapel, I have had a similar “vision,” only in mine, I am a little girl, all dressed up with ribbons in her hair, and I am snuggled in the arms of Jesus, or sometimes standing on his lap, looking into His eyes, or hugging His neck so tight.  And….I am so very peaceful, both in the scene, and as I quietly sit there being loved.

Getting out of the car, after hearing the young woman’s encounter with Jesus, I looked up at the blue sky and the trees in their tender spring leaves.  I listened to the bird songs of some cardinals nearby.  I gazed at all of this and with wide-eyed wonder, marveled that the God Who had created it all, and Who sustains a world teeming with life and beauty, would so love me, and you….would so love us above all of His material creation combined.  Yet, I know that He does…because He told us so.


Continue reading at Patricia's blog  I Want to See God.

A King's ransome

by Patricia

Painting by Max Baumann (Photo: Wikimedia Commons)

In my thanksgiving after Holy Communion today, I found myself consumed with how completely I am owned by God.

The Price He paid overwhelmed me, as I recalled the Stations of the Cross, His Holy Face pressed into the dust and rock as the Cross fell heavily upon His scourged Body. More blows from the soldiers as He struggled first to His knees, and then to His feet… for me.

Before me was the Crucifix where I could see the nails, the nakedness, the agony, the forsakenness. Heart racing, lungs burning, muscles cramping, Blood spilling, cold sweat… Tears.

Within me, the Sacred Host. Jesus dwelling in nothingness, wretchedness, yet robing me in the Grace He had purchased with so much suffering.

I am motionless. How does one move when they contain within their dust not the universe, but the One Who made the universe? Not a pure and sacred thing, but Holiness Itself? Not a king, but a God Who is King of all kings?


Continue reading at  I Want to See God.

When the turtledove no longer sings…

by Patricia

Turtledove (Photo Credit: Wikimedia Commons).

Yesterday morning, I woke up to the sound of joyful voices praising God’s Goodness. My mp3 player is chock full of Catholic radio podcasts.

Instead of being uplifted, I felt a deep loneliness. That used to be me, I thought. I felt broken – sort of like Humpty Dumpty was broken, all shattered. Only on the inside.

I’ve been feeling like this for years, but it seems to grow worse over time. I claim to love God deeply.  I believe in His Love for me. But, I don’t feel a shred of devotion or affection for Him. Anymore.  Yet, just the thought of Him once took my breath away.

Every Tuesday, I sit before His Eucharistic Presence for two hours struggling to pray. I am happy to be with Him. I love the peace. But I cannot meditate or pray mentally at all. I try to remember how thoughts of Him once flooded my mind and heart like an embrace of warm waves washing over me.

I tell Him that I love Him (because I do), but avoid terms of endearment which once tumbled out of my entire being in a litany of praise and adoration. Such passion would seem hollow, even phony now. And I am sad for it.

I am aware of Him in every choice that I make. Is it for or against Him? I try to do what would please Him, but it’s more like habit than love. And I don’t want to go to hell — I who once dreamed of rushing into the arms of my Savior after breathing my last. No fear then.

I have long since given up trying to find out Why. I have turned my life inside out looking for a reason. I cannot find one. It is as though I have fallen into a deep dark well, and there is no way out. And not one ray of light.

I have asked a few different priests what they thought, but in the rush of a few moments in the confessional, or a 20 minute exchange on retreat, they have not understood, and I cannot blame them.  But I thank them for listening.

Is it the dark night?

“Dark night of the soul,"  a holy nun with the gift of healing told me. “But,” she added, “IF you are praying.”  So, all bets are off.

Am I praying? What is prayer now? There is no question that I could pray more, much more. How much do I have to pray to be in the purification of a dark night rather than the lukewarmness of a soul who has left the narrow way and wandered onto the wide road?

I tell Jesus that I believe it will always be this way now. I no longer allow myself to hope that I will ever again experience His Presence, or my own heart leaping within me at the sound of His Name. I am so very grateful for those memories.

He has given me more than I could have ever hoped for. It is His to give, and His to take away. If I have driven away His favors by my lack of generosity, I pray, as best I can now pray, that I will not one day cause Him to leave me too.

My prayer  is simple now. It is that of the dying thief: “Jesus, remember me when You come into Your kingdom.”


Patricia originally posted this at her blog  I Want to See God.  I have posted this in full here, in the hope that it can help others who are struggling.

Share with us: Have you experienced difficulties in prayer? How have you dealt with them? Are you in a dark place now?