Merry Christmas

Here is an old favorite of mine from the poet, Rod McKuen. Enjoy.

Simple Gifts

Though the gift be small and simple
if the wish is wide
just the simple gift of giving
makes you warm inside.

Though the thought is ever fleeting
if a thought at all
remember all the mighty big things
started out as small.

So if you’ve a gift worth giving
let it be your smile
let it be a kindly word
that makes a stranger stop awhile.

Let it be a simple gift then
if the wish is wide
just the simple gift of giving
makes you warm inside.

© 1965 by Stanyan Music & Rod McKuen

The Test

Facing the test of mortality, what do we pray for? Courage. Strength. Sustained faith. Fast death. No pain. It's a path one walks alone. No one can free you from this. It's a test that can be passed with flying colors if you believe in the power of prayer. It's a power that lifts you above the terror and calms your soul. It is real power, inherent power. Once you feel it's power all fears are erased.

For My Son's Best Friend - his dog, "Porter" - A Tribute to the Dog

Gentlemen of the Jury:

The best friend a man has in the world may turn against him and become his enemy. His son or daughter that he has reared with loving care may prove ungrateful. Those who are nearest and dearest to us, those whom we trust with our happiness and our good name may become traitors to their faith. The money that a man has, he may lose. It flies away from him, perhaps when he needs it most. A man's reputation may be sacrificed in a moment of ill-considered action. The people who are prone to fall on their knees to do us honor when success is with us may be the first to throw the stone of malice when failure settles its cloud upon our heads.

The one absolutely unselfish friend that man can have in this selfish world, the one who never deserts him, the one that never proves ungrateful or treacherous is his dog. A man's dog stands by him in prosperity and in poverty, in health and in sickness. He will sleep on the cold ground, where the wintry winds blow and the snow drives fiercely, if only he may be near his master's side. He will kiss the hand that has no food to offer; he will lick the wounds and sores that come in an encounter with the roughness of the world. He guards the sleep of of his pauper master as if he were a prince. When all other friends desert, he remains. When riches take wings, and reputation falls to pieces, he is as constant in his love as the sun in its journey through the heavens.

If fortune drives the master forth an outcast in the world, friendless and homeless, the faithful dog asks no higher privilege than that of accompanying him, to guard him against danger, to fight against his enemies. And when the last scene of all comes, and death takes his master in its embrace and his body is laid away in the cold ground, no matter if all other friends pursue their way, there by the graveside will the noble dog be found, his head between his paws, his eyes sad, but open in alert watchfulness, faithful and true even in death.

(taken from an oral court summation of Senator George Graham Vest who served as a Senator from Missouri from 1879 - 1903)

The Moon Will Not Give Its Light

November is a "between" time - no longer autumn really, and yet, not quite winter. Somehow next Sunday's gospel story of the "end times" fits so perfectly into this 'tween season of early darkness and shorter days. Mark 's gospel speaks to us through the ages,
Jesus said to his disciples:
"In those days after that tribulation
the sun will be darkened,
and the moon will not give its light,
and the stars will be falling from the sky,
and the powers in the heavens will be shaken."
Of course no one knows when the real end time will occur, but we know for sure each one of us will face our own end time. So November sets the perfect staging for self-reflection. How are we doing in this life we have been given? Are we prepared for our end times? When my Dad received the news that his life would be ending because his lungs were giving out, he never showed fear or self-pity. Why Dad I asked? Aren't you afraid of dying? No was his answer. I am not afraid because I have prepared my whole life for this moment. When my moon no longer gave light, and my stars fell from the sky, and my faith in the powers of heaven were shaken, I took comfort in my Dad's words. Madeline L'Engle describes this end moment of faith so succinctly in her poem "Epiphany":

Unclench your fists.
Hold out your hands.
Take mine.
Let us hold each other.
This is His Glory
Manifest.

Glimpses of heaven

A spectacular autumn day in every way - makes you want to shout hallelujah. I am totally humbled in the wonder and awe of God's presence - to think what is yet for me to see!

Eve's Red Dress

O.K. I'll admit to being a bookalholic with very eclectic tastes. I just finished reading a book of poetry by a NJ poet, Diane Lockward. Her book, Eve's Red Dress is a phenomenal testament to the inner spirit and soul of women. These poems lingered and haunted. And even though I was never an English major, isn't that what good poetry is suppose to do? Lockward grabs at you from the first page. Go to Amazon's website and read the first poem in this book - you will get that "gotcha" feeling! Here's the opening stanza from the first poem, "Eve Argues Against Perfection":

Beguiled, my ass. I said no such thing.
You say I lost the gift of Paradise.
I couldn't lose what I never had.

Oh yeah, "GOTCHA!"

September

Saying Goodbye

Autumn air does a heart-dance
on branches already gone barren;
the misty air clings to golden leaves,
making the trees bend even lower.

It is a season to hold the trees close,
to stand with them in their grieving.
It is a time to open my inner being
to the misty truths of my own goodbyes.

~from Joyce Rupp's Praying Our Goodbyes

Two years ago I lost my mom quite suddenly. This death handed me an understandable, palpable grief. I miss her every day but my mourning has ended and life goes on in its natural course. But how am I to grieve for my dear friend, who for all intents and purposes has already left me, not through death but through severe brain trauma. How I want to scream out to the universe, to God, how does this happen? Why? Why? Why? I am not sure what is worse - the horror of what has happened to my dear friend, or the unquenchable anguish gripping her husband. The reality of this kind of pain seems unbearable. No words can ease the intensity of this kind of grieving. It is time to open my inner being to the misty truths of not just to goodbye but to a necessary loss of hope.

Hope

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune--without the words,
And never stops at all. . .
~Emily Dickinson

How does one bring hope to the hopeless? What words can one say to alleviate anguish? The hardest thing in the world is to be powerless when faced with the suffering experienced by those one loves and cherishes. Oh Lord, help make me an instrument of your peace. . .

where there is hatred, let me sow love;

where there is injury, pardon;

where there is doubt, faith;

where there is despair, hope;

where there is darkness, light;

and where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master,

grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;

to be understood, as to understand;

to be loved, as to love;

for it is in giving that we receive,

it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,

and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.

Amen.

Bye Bye Summer

Cool August evenings signal summer's coming to a close and I am looking ahead to autumn and all its glories!

No Longer Young; Not Yet Really Old

It doesn't come on suddenly like the onset of a 24 hour virus. But one day you look in the mirror and you just know - old age has arrived and it is looking at you square in the face. Maybe it's your grandmother that you see in the waddle that is forming under your chin, or maybe it's your mother that you see in the crinkle lines around your eyes and lips. But damn you have arrived! And I don't mean that in a good way - like a coming out party at 16. Wow! How did I go from back there when I was a "looker" to this here and now - a grandmother? Well, I am here and I have arrived and as another birthday inches closer I have also come to realize that I like this elderly person looking back at me in the mirror. This person is definitely wiser and has survived things she never thought she could in a million years. This woman is confidant in ways she never thought possible. This person knows how to converse with anyone, and people are comfortable around her. This woman is not afraid to shine, and not afraid to fail. This person is beautiful in her new age. And this person's grandchildren think she is pretty special - and they would be right! A few years ago I read a book called, "The Time Traveler's Wife" and it contained a great poem which describes just how I am feeling. Enjoy.

Love After Love by Derek Walcott

The time will come when, with elation you will greet yourself arriving at your own door, in your own mirror and each will smile at the other's welcome, and say, sit here. Eat. You will love again the stranger who was your self. Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart to itself, to the stranger who has loved you all your life, whom you ignored for another, who knows you by heart. Take down the love letters from the bookshelf, the photographs, the desperate notes, peel your own image from the mirror. Sit. Feast on your life.

Hope

"Do not look forward in fear to the changes of life; Rather look to them with full hope that as they arise, God, whose very own you are, will lead you safely through all things; And when you cannot stand it, God will carry you in His arms. Do not fear what may happen tomorrow; The same everlasting Father who cares for you today will take care of you today and everyday. He will either shield you from suffering or will give you unfailing strength to bear it. Be at peace and put aside all anxious thoughts and imaginations."

Summer Breeze

It's so hot and yet every once in awhile up pops a gentle breeze - the leaves rustle, birds are chirping in the background and you just lie there taking it all in like a deep breath. You close your eyes and see that it's the same every summer from as early as you can remember. The smells and sounds and feel of that gentle breeze - always the same, something you can always count on to conjure up all summers gone by - a Newark neighborhood as you lie on the attic floor eye level with the squirrels in the trees and there is that gentle summer breeze coming in that attic window lapping over you like a cool sea wave; a Riviera Beach backyard as you lie on a chaise lounge turning brown in the South Jersey sun waiting for that cool breeze to cool your baking body. At fifty-six you wonder how did it all go by so quickly. And yet it did. . .

The Sacrament of the Present Moment

My retirement officially began two years ago. Friends repeatedly asked what I had planned for retirement and I repeatedly said that I had no plan. I wanted to just have the joy of each fresh day to take me anywhere it wanted to go. And the days have not disappointed. Yesterday, I had the pleasure of seeing friends of my parents and aunt from the old days. These three women never married and had been career women. They traveled extensively and are as vibrant in their 80's as they were in their 30's. One of them called me a few weeks ago saying that she came across a letter written by my grandfather back in 1964 and thought I would like to see it. Out of nowhere an unexpected treasure! I can not even describe the feelings I had yesterday holding that letter he wrote to them all those years ago. Reading it I was able to feel his sense of humor and conjure up an image of him smiling as he wrote it. So we sat and broke bread and laughed and cried sharing all our collective memories of those who are no longer here. We acknowledged the blessings we have received through this life long friendship and how good it was to gather together again and remember. And I was fed in more ways than one. And I received Eucharist in the sacrament of the present moment.

The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pajamas

This weekend I spent time with an old friend that I had worked with while I struggled to put myself through college. We were travel agents and also traveled together. Being with her again after 30 some years in between reminded me that keeping in touch with friends who knew you when you were young is really, really important. Especially as you get really, really old. So I offer my top ten reasons for keeping friends close to your heart.

1. Friends help piece together past experiences and memories and bring them to the present.
2. Friends remember who you were before the world tried to rearrange you.
3. Friends can cry and laugh with you about those friends long gone.
4. Friends understand how you arrived at the present moment and what you went through to get here.
5. Friends reaffirm the belief that people really do not change that much over time.
6. Friends make you laugh at yourself and all your ridiculousness.
7. Friends eat your meals and say they taste wonderful even when it's not really true.
8. Friends will take car rides to any where with you.
9. Friends tell you how good you look even when it's not really true but in their eyes it is.
10. Friends stick with you through all the messiness of life and relationships and bless you with their presence in your life.

My friends have become my "sisterhood of the traveling pajamas" because no matter how far apart we live we will travel with pj's in hand to be together!

From San Miguel in the Azores

Today on June 5, 1903 my grandmother, Mary Constance Madeiros was born in Ponta Delgada on the island of San Miguel in the Portuguese Azores. Happy Birthday Nanny! I miss you everyday. Here are the top ten things I remember about you.
1. Your dimples when you flashed that gorgeous smile of yours.
2. Your beautiful wavy, shiny silver hair.
3. Your kind brown eyes.
4. Your singing Portuguese rhymes and lullabyes to us.
5. Your jitterbugging in a night club when we were in Lisboa! Who knew.
6. Your devotion to your family.
7. Your celebration style for all holidays making them more than special.
8. Your helping me through adolescent heart breaks.
9. Your joie de vivre despite all the hardships you endured.
10. Your amazing life!

Now that I am a grandmother, I hope that I can be for my grandchildren what you were for me. Love and prayers always Nan.

A Feel Good Poem

Posted the other day on NPR Writer's Almanac. This poem just plain makes me feel good every time I read it.

Daffodils

by William Wordsworth

I wander'd lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretch'd in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay;
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee;
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

"Daffodils" by William Wordsworth. Public domain.

Where is the church Christ envisioned?

During his days on earth Jesus spent time with the marginalized. He was approachable. He ate and drank and dialogued with the people. He was humble. He showed compassion and mercy. He preached a message of love. He was a devout Jew who came to challenge the rigidity and inflexibility of religious zealotry when it became blindsided to the needs of the people. Jesus was so unlike the current Roman Catholic Church which remains rigid, inflexible and blindsided in its religious fervor and zealotry while its people suffer from lack of spiritual leadership. Where is the community that Jesus envisioned?

Trying times for Roman Catholics

It is very easy to hold a pity party and bemoan the loss of the good old days. But are the "good old days" ever lost? This is a question that was much on my mind this weekend at a celebration of a friend's 50th Anniversary of Ordination to the priesthood. As we sat around a table of friends and laughed and spoke, sometimes tearfully, of all our great memories together, I realized that we were experiencing the sacrament of the present moment just like the Apostles had with Jesus, especially at the Last Supper. "A sacrament is an outward sign instituted by Christ to give grace." We all know this and have memorized this response from our catechisms but do we ever really think about what "sacrament" means in the seemingly ordinary moments of life. All of us sitting around the table that evening with our priest friend received a grace from sharing the bread and wine of friendship and love and memories that no one can ever take away from us, not even if priests are forced to retire, not even if churches are forced to close, not even when the leader who is to shepherd his people in his diocese falls short of his job. No, "Amen, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. (John 12:24)

What Gets Me Through Spiritual Crisis

This is a lovely prayer poem by Gerald Kelly. Enjoy.

Rob's God

I want to follow Rob’s God;

God-the-goal of my soul’s education.

Rob’s God is approachable, articulate and artful,

A glowing God, of graceful inclination.

Rob’s God snowboards cloudscapes

And paints daisies on his toes,

While watching Chaplin re-runs

On his i-Pod.

He smiles at cats and children,

Jumps in puddles with his shoes on,

A ‘where’s-the-fun -in-fundamentalism?’ God.

Rob’s God doesn’t shoot

His own wounded,

Or blame the poor for failing

At prosperity.

He doesn’t beat the broken

With bruised reeds from their garden,

Or tell the sick that healing’s their

Responsibility.

Rob’s God is a poet,

Painting people as his poems;

A sculptor shaping symphonies from stone

A maker of mosaics

Curator of collages

Woven from the wounds and wonders

We have known

A furnace of forgiveness;

Rob’s God radiates reunion

Pouring oil on every fight

We’ve ever started

A living lover

Loving laughter

Lending light

To the helpless and the harmed and heavy-hearted

Other Gods may claim more crowded churches

Higher profiles

Better ratings

Fuller phone-ins

But in the contest for commitment

In the battle for belief

In the war to woo my worship;

Rob’s God wins

In the fight for my faith’s fervour:

In the struggle for my soul;

In the race for my respect

Rob’s God wins.

Absolutely.

(Gerard Kelly May 11th 2006)

When prayers are answered. . .

Did you hear me Lord?
No words were necessary.
But somehow you heard the longings of my heart
Wanting just this once a pass -
A chance to have things turn out right.
You said, "Amen".

CD Rom The New Papyrus

Believe it or not but I have been using cyberspace since 1987 as a graduate student at Columbia University in NYC. It was not yet labeled the "internet" and we needed to use command strings to access the electronic bulletin board service or BBS. It was also a dial-up system. From day one I was just absolutely head over heels in love with the potential of this new technology. My final thesis, which was entitled, "CD ROM the New Papyrus" got some points taken off simply because my adviser admonished that this technology would never replace paper as a communication system. I often think that after 22 years I should renegotiate my grade just for the mere satisfaction of proving to my adviser that I was right. Well, as a Virgo, I can't help it - I always want to be right!

Everyday now begins with going "on line" and connecting to the world - to receive communication from the paperless universe! Each day I am inspired by gifted blog writers which I follow for daily bread, or food for my soul. Soul Flares is one site I like and today Annie had a poem by Rumi that was just dead on for what I needed to feed my soul today. I share it here:

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

Rumi

Happy Birthday Mom!

Today would have been my mother's 80th birthday. I miss her every day! This was on the Writer's Almanac from NPR today. Enjoy.

Music

by Anne Porter

When I was a child
I once sat sobbing on the floor
Beside my mother's piano
As she played and sang
For there was in her singing
A shy yet solemn glory
My smallness could not hold

And when I was asked
Why I was crying
I had no words for it
I only shook my head
And went on crying

Why is it that music
At its most beautiful
Opens a wound in us
An ache a desolation
Deep as a homesickness
For some far-off
And half-forgotten country

I've never understood
Why this is so

But there's an ancient legend
From the other side of the world
That gives away the secret
Of this mysterious sorrow

For centuries on centuries
We have been wandering
But we were made for Paradise
As deer for the forest

And when music comes to us
With its heavenly beauty
It brings us desolation
For when we hear it
We half remember
That lost native country

We dimly remember the fields
Their fragrant windswept clover
The birdsongs in the orchards
The wild white violets in the moss
By the transparent streams

And shining at the heart of it
Is the longed-for beauty
Of the One who waits for us
Who will always wait for us
In those radiant meadows

Yet also came to live with us
And wanders where we wander.

War /No More Trouble Video

Playing For Change | Peace Through Music

Playing For Change | Peace Through Music

Posted using ShareThis

Keeping the hope for peace alive!

Every once it awhile I go back to view this video of Patty Griffin's kite song. Powerful!

Happy Earth Day

This is a great link I would like to post for celebration of earth day from Spirituality and Practice.
And I can't help but post one of my favorite poems.

TREES by: Joyce Kilmer (1886-1918)

I think that I shall never see

A poem lovely as a tree.




A tree whose hungry mouth is prest

Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;




A tree that looks at God all day,

And lifts her leafy arms to pray;




A tree that may in Summer wear

A nest of robins in her hair;




Upon whose bosom snow has lain;

Who intimately lives with rain.




Poems are made by fools like me,

But only God can make a tree.

April, Come She Will

From one of my favorite poets:

From Blossoms

From blossoms comes
this brown paper bag of peaches
we bought from the boy
at the bend in the road where we turned toward
signs painted Peaches.

From laden boughs, from hands,
from sweet fellowship in the bins,
comes nectar at the roadside, succulent
peaches we devour, dusty skin and all,
comes the familiar dust of summer, dust we eat.

O, to take what we love inside,
to carry within us an orchard, to eat
not only the skin, but the shade,
not only the sugar, but the days, to hold
the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into
the round jubilance of peach.

There are days we live
as if death were nowhere
in the background; from joy
to joy to joy, from wing to wing,
from blossom to blossom to
impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.

- Li-Young Lee

The Empty Tomb

The words to this Easter hymn spoke to my heart. It was written by the Reverend Canon Rosalind Brown.

They came, as dawn was breaking,to finalize their loss,
absorb death's grim, stark meaning,the horror of the cross.
They came, and angels told them"Recall the words he said.
You seek the one now living,why look among the dead?"

We dream of resurrection yet when it comes we cling
to things known and familiar,the boundaries they bring.
And we, who are not ready to let our grieving go,
reject the angels' story,hold to the loss we know.

You interrupt our mourning,an untrod path you pave;
for you bring resurrection while we still seek the grave.
Our lives are wrenched wide open,the wounds we nursed exposed;
and, like a phrase of music,our death to life transposed.

Christos Anesti!

It all comes back as I go round and round using up these remnants of yarn. All the occasions for baby layettes, family afghans, sweaters, scarves and college blankets - all woven into my memory. All these little scraps from projects of love now made whole again. Isn't this what happens in our resurrection - to bring all the remnants of our humanity into wholeness? Easter is upon us! Christos Anesti!

Lent Begins Today

Desert Prayer

I am not asking you
to take this wilderness from me,
to remove this place of starkness
where I come to know
the wildness within me,
where I learn to call the names
of the ravenous beasts
that pace inside me,
to finger the brambles
that snake through my veins,
to taste the thirst
that tugs at my tongue.

But send me
tough angels,
sweet wine,
strong bread:
just enough.

(Prayer © Jan Richardson from In Wisdom’s Path.)

Mardi Gras

Hard to believe that the season of Lent is fast approaching. Back in the days of parochial school we spent Mardi Gras thinking of what to give up for Lent. I was always eager to give up vegetables, mom's corned beef and cabbage, and eating fish on Fridays. The good sisters pointed out in a very direct way that my understanding of Lenten sacrifice needed tweaking. Most kids gave up sweets and television but my parents did not seem really concerned about what, if anything, we gave up for Lent. Why was this? Because things were added rather than taken away - things like more chores, more time at Church, more time with extended family. This was way more difficult than simply giving something up. And besides, we never had very many sweets around the house anyway, and my father pretty much controlled what was on the television and it was never anything I wanted to watch. Yet, spending Lent in this way changed us in ways that lasted a lifetime, not just a season. The chores that were added brought fun along with them as we did things as a family - even squabbling about who had to do more was kind of fun. To this day my siblings and I reminisce about our shortcuts in doing chores and my personal favorite shortcut which I call "Irish dusting". Even attending weekday Mass during Lent in the evening provided an opportunity for a free family night out - when money is limited a night out is a night out! Yet the car rides to Mass during those late winter and early spring evenings wrapped us together in loving family moments. I think getting out during those evenings was especially nice for my mom who did not drive and was home alone all day while we were at school. Lent always provided us with what we needed to face our Good Fridays and celebrate our Easter Sundays, not through the ritual of giving up meaningless items of pleasure, but through time honored family traditions that transcended the ordinariness of daily life into daily life celebrations. I pray that Lent once again allows me the opportunity to transcend the ordinariness of my daily life into an appreciation of the daily miracles at hand, and that I spend this time facing my Good Fridays and celebrating my Easter Sundays!

A Life Lost Too Soon

Today, I went to Amy Wellborn's blog and I read that her beloved husband, Michael, passed away February 3rd. Please see this blog and read how a woman of great faith (and her husband, a man of great faith) deal with death. Beautiful!

Charlotte Was Both is Amy's blog.

She continues to be FOOD FOR MY SOUL!

Being Tagged in Facebook

Recently I was tagged in Facebook to list 25 Random Things about myself. Since I needed to spend the time making the list, I'll post it here as well.

1. My family is always number one on any list.
2. My husband is my best friend.
3. The greatest accomplishments of my life are my two sons.
4. My step-children became added blessings to an already blessed life.
5. My grandchildren (a.k.a. luvbugs) bring me joy beyond measure.
6. More grandchildren = more joy HINT HINT HINT!
7. Missing my parents is a daily occurrence.
8.Photos are most my valuable possessions.
9.Reading is candy for my brain.
10. The sisterhood of the traveling pajamas (you know who you are) brings lighthearted laughter to my world!
11. Existential salvation is the answer to "Who is saved?"
12. Sexual orientation is innate - case closed!! You are who you are.
13. Time does not heal all wounds - scar tissue does!
14.Perfection means being able to live each season in a different place: PA,FL,Canada, Italy!
15. Pets give us pure, unconditional love and inter-species love is not an evolutionary necessity and therefore (IMHO) proves God exists. Sorry scientist son, but I believe this wholeheartedly.
16. And yes, scientist son, I have doubts about the meaning of it all but that helps my faith grow.
17.I want to be the kind of mother-in-law that my mother-in-law is to me. She is the best!!
18. My favorite all time movies are Arthur & Dr. Zhivago.
19. My favorite all time books are Angela's Ashes & The River Why.
20. Yes, I write a sappy blog. Something I swore I would never do,and yet here I am with this list.
21. My education was hard earned and well worth it. I am an alumna of Kean U., Fairleigh Dickinson U. and Columbia U.
22. Forgiveness transcends bitterness.
23.Autumn is my favorite season.
24. Happiness is rooted in authenticity.
25. There's no place like home!

THE MESSIAH OF DO-OVERS

Not often, but sometimes, life gives you a chance for a do-over - to make up for something you should have gotten right the first time around. And sometimes, if you are really lucky, you get to do it with the same parties involved. Now this happened to me recently and even though it won't go down in the books as a great happening, it was for me a small miraculous blessing. So when these things occur, I look at them as divine intervention (even though my family teases me about divine intervention). And then the thought struck me that Jesus was the master of do-overs. Well, maybe not in those exact terms but He did proclaim this message over and over again. I am sure that if you look at the gospels you will find countless examples of do-overs, especially for Peter - three times in fact!

Grateful Days

My favorite daily e-mails come from a site called Gratefulness.org . Their most recent newsletter had this poem which so beautifully reflected my current hopes for our country and this man who has offered us his leadership in most troubled times.

SONNETS TO ORPHEUS: II, 12 (stanza 1)

Desire change. Be enthusiastic for that flame
in which a thing escapes your grasp
while it makes a glorious display of transformation.
That designing Spirit, the master mind of all things on earth
loves nothing so much in the sweeping movement of the dance
as the turning point.

-- Rainer Maria Rilke, translated by Br. David Steindl-Rast

No Place Like Home

Dorothy from Oz said it best! No matter where my travels take me, I am always so happy to return to such a beautiful space. Home is where I charge my battery - where I ponder over my rag tag treasures. It's so quiet now with no more children - just an empty swing hanging midwinter filled with snow to bring me so, so many wonderful memories on a brisk chilly day. Never ever any more ordinary days come this way - just grand ones like today!

MOON SHADOWS

Moon shadows have been visiting the past few nights creating a diamond display in the fresh snowfall. I stand in wonder and awe of God’s presence here in the mountains. There is so much I can not understand or figure out, but I know God is here with me at all times. Faith is such a gift!

For those who believe no explanation is necessary, for those who don't none will suffice.~attributed to Joseph Dunninger