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What I did this summer 2026

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The leaves are falling from the trees – from heat stress here in Central Texas. The grass os brown and crunchy under my feet. However, in my college town, the students are back flowing in to my parish past the fill line each Sunday, driving like maniacs in the increased traffic, studying in every coffee shop, and crowding the bars on the weekends. So this counts as fall around here in spite of the weather. Living with a child marks the transition as well, long before the heat lets up. My granddaughter has started fifth grade, my grandsons have started second and fourth grades, and the baby has started walking.

Thinking back on the summer of 2026, I think it was the summer of broken down cars. My daughters and I have all had excessive car trouble this summer.

It was also a summer of much reading. I tend to go through a book every 4-5 days. This is when Kindle Unlimited comes in handy with a number of free digital books. I love actual books too. In fact I finally have my Little Free Library up and running. I’ve been so excited about that. It’s something I have always wanted to do! The books haven’t been moving too fast but I hope that will change as more people notice it. If you have any ideas about books to put in it, or any advice, let me know in the comments.

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I started a Christian Base Community at my house. We have had two meetings so far. And it’s just four or five people. It’s been good. We pray Lectio Divina with the Gospel from the closest Sunday, share about it, eat snacks. We talk about how we will follow up on our insights we received in prayer. So far we have been doing triage dealing with everyone’s exhaustion about the cruelty we have been seeing in our country right now. However we will move into identifying problems in our community and making plans to do something about them.

I watered my garden every day to try to help everything survive the heat. The basil did well and got so big and fluffy! I left the flowers on the plants so the bees could enjoy them, which they really seemed to. My roses bloomed a bit but by evening they looked like crinkled paper. I left water out for my chickens, cats, the birds. and squirrels and anything else that needed it.

One of my chickens, Cleo, almost had a heat stroke so we brought her in and put her feet in the sink with some water and ice until she felt better. Now we bring her in and put her in a dog crate during the hottest part of the day. The others do OK.

A crazy good thing happened to me this summer. Out of the blue I found out my book Meeting the One Who Loves You; the way of prayer of St. Teresa of Avila, won first place in the category of adult prayer and devotionals from the Catholic Media Association. I even beat out a Dominican priest! Don’t worry he still got second place for his in-depth Stations of the Cross. I had no idea I was in the running. I thought my latest book wasn’t selling that well. What do you know? Some people liked it! That was exciting and my former editor and another friend at Our Sunday Visitor told me it was a big deal. So yay!

I started cooking vegetarian for my dog this summer. I looked stuff up and figured out what to feed him. I’m vegan but I figured I would start with vegetarian for him and see how he did. His coat got shinier and softer, his energy has been up. He has not scratched as much. So success so far!

Here is my current recipe for him. He is a big dog (76 pounds) so this is one day’s food for my big boy.

Joey Francis Tribiani Chapman’s Vegetarian Dog Food

Ingredients

one cup brown rice

one cup lentils

1 cup plain yogurt or cottage cheese

a handful of ground flax seed

one cup full of chopped vegetables

a scrambled egg or two

To do

cook the lentils, rice and ground flax seed together in about 5 1/2 cups of water

(I use my instant pot for this on the bean setting)

steam the vegetables (if they are frozen you can just throw them in while the beans and rice are still hot)

stir in the yogurt or cottage cheese

scramble the egg or hard boil it

stir in the vegetables and the egg

When everything is cooked and mixed together, let the food cool off before you give it to your dog.

*Please note that dogs cannot have onions, garlic or apple cores.

One daughter is almost finished with her master’s in criminal justice. She plays around town as a singer songwriter and also in a band called The Fragments. My other girl got into flight school and already started flying. Her instructor says she will make an excellent pilot.

One of the guys I take care of as a caregiver, Mac, became very ill at the beginning of the summer. He stayed sick for such a long time, ended up in the E.R., and had a nine day hospital stay. He was still extremely ill when he got home. His parents and I had lots of extra care to do and we were all still really scared. We almost lost him. Recently he got sick again but he didn’t worsen into pneumonia it just took a long time and hard work to see him well again. Mac is so resilient.

My other guy, Sean, who is just 14, had a decent summer I think. He was out of school but he still went to his autism clinic every day. That’s where I pick him up in the late afternoon. It was too hot to go to the park or anything so sometimes we explored buildings we had never been in, and we got a snowcone every Monday because Mondays are hard. (sugar free cherry for him, lime with chili salt for me).

I started making little videos of prayer breaks this summer. I was surprised how many plays they get. I only put them on my Come to Mary’s House Facebook Page which most people don’t know about. But they get about 300 plays apiece. Funny. So I will keep doing it as long as I can. I just take little prayer breaks usually between my jobs, so I thought of sharing those.

I had the funnest day ever with my friend Mark. We went to Houston and went to our favorite coffee shops and bookstores. We ran all over the downtown, I forget how many thousands of steps he said we took. We went to the Museum of Fine art to see their Frida Kahlo exhibit. Then we went to my favorite, The Menil, and to Mark’s favorite, the Rothko Chapel. We ate at a little dive Mexican vegan restaurant, and at The Hobbit too. The big deal was a concert in honor of John Coltrane by virtuoso jazz artists from around the world. Oh it was amazing. I really felt like Coltranes’ spirit was in that place. What an experience!

I continued to volunteer with Sweet Oak Collaborative’s emergency food pantry. We have a guy who in his retirement makes vats of homemade food, boxes up meals and freezes them. He donates them to Meals on Wheels, the Boys and Girls Club, and us. A friend is donating a deep freeze which we could really use. There is a lot of need out there especially as the food banks lose federal funding and food stamps are cut for people. It’s good to be able to do something about it.

Other than tearing through one book after another, listening to audio books in the car, and Catholic Stream lecture series, listening to music, going to work and coming home, plus regular family life, and broken cars, that was my summer. My car is still down. It’s about 20 years old and my dad thinks it’s kaput. My eldest daughter has hers in the shop. Again. My youngest daughters’ car has a battery that needs to be replaced but that is difficult because of the way her engine is built (why did they make it like that). At least it runs and I am driving it too so I can get to work. Car shopping is in my near future. Wish me luck.

My eldest daughter comes over for coffee with me with the baby after she drops the boys off at school. My other daughter and my granddaughter live with me. I’m so lucky. I love them all. They’re all such unique, hilarious and wonderful people. I enjoyed my time with them this summer very much.

My Hippie Sisters pulled off some great dinner parties this summer as well. Nobody does it better.

I got to know my newly married godson better. We talked for four hours and ended up on the coffee shop steps after it closed. That was fun. He grew up to be so cool. 🙂

I also saw the son of a dear family friend who grew up playing with my youngest daughter ordained a priest in Austin this summer. That was beautiful.

Summer is still my favorite season but I don’t handle the heat as well as I used to.

Now I’ll try to get in the mood for the fall that hasn’t actually started yet.

Texas sunsets in late September are especially glorious. I’m looking forward to that. And maybe to getting some new roses from the Antique Rose Emporium. Fall is the best time to plant them. I want them to be as profuse as possible around my house! I like them wild and tangled and hanging from the trees like a fairy land. That’s what I’m going for.

Happy fall, y’all.

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* Here are some things I read this summer. If you have any book recommendations for me let me know in the comments.

The Adventures of Amina Al-Sarafi by Shannon Chakraborthy. I was happy it was a trilogy.

Bat Eater and other Names for Cora Zheng by Kylie Lee Baker

Finding Francis, Following Christ by Michael H. Crosby

Remarkably Bright Creatures by Shelby Van Pelt.

The Star of Calcutta by Sujatta Massey

The Tears of Things by Richard Rorh

The Poet Empress by Shen Tao

The Poppy Wars by R.F. Kuang (a trilogy))

Katabasis by R.F. Kuang

Babel by R.F. Kuang

All six books of the Hawthorn and Horrowitz series. By Anthony Horowitz

House of Silk by Anthony Horowitz

Bunny and its sequel We Love You Bunny by Mona Awad.

The Pillow Book by Sei Shonagon

The River Has Roots by Amal El Mother (so beautiful it’s practically poetry).

The Once and Future Queen by Paula Lafferty

Green Teeth by Molly O’Neil

The Poetry of St. John of the Cross translated by Willis Barnstone

How to Clean Everything by Ann Russell (I didn’t clean much though).

Homebody by Rupi Kaur (poetry)

Children of Blood and Bone by Tomi Adeyemi ( an intense trilogy)

I also re-read a bunch of Agatha Christies and other favorite books when I ran out of stuff or one of these other books wrung me out and I needed comfort reading.

I’m currently listening to The Intrigue by Sylvia Moreno Garcia on audiobook

reading Diavola by Jennifer Thorn

and Bad Mexicans; Race, Empire and Revolution in the Borderlands by Kelly Lytle Hernandez

Listening to a course on Catholic Stream about Midieval Christianity and just finished one about the great spiritual families in the history of the Church (about the spiritualities of the different major religious orders from the Desert Fathers to the Vincentians). Recommendations welcome if you listen to Catholic Stream too- I have it on Apple podcasts)

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Prayer to Maria Infantita

“Little Mary, let me come close to you.

Receive me at your little feet.

Let me love you with the tenderness of a child.

Let me rest here for a while, near you.”

And now silence.

Just be with her. Look at little Mary. She belongs wholly to God.

Ask her,

“Maria Infantita, teach me

your recollection.

Free my heart

fFrom whatever draws me away from God.

Teach me to be quiet within.

Let me turn from the noise of earthly things

and attend to the beauty of God.

Little Mary,

I give you my work, my joys, my sorrows,

my thoughts and desires.

Teach me to do everything for God.

Teach me to be little.

Teach me to be recollected.

Teach me to say yes.

And when I forget,

Draw me back to you.”

Little Mary, pray for me.

After praying, do something for someone,

especially for someone in poverty.

Little Mary doesn’t just leave you feeling spiritually renewed.

She sends you out with a loaf of bread.

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The ideas above are primarily from the 1843-1848 Mexican devotions to Maria Infantita

Today, September 8, is Our Lady’s birthday. In the old devotional texts it was suggested to give alms to the poor on the 8TH of every month, and to pray to Maria Infantita every hour.

“At this hour I renew my loving consecration to you, Maria Infatita.

Look upon me with mercy, protect me,

and teach me to imitate your holy virtues.”

If you think about it, this is like a “Marian Little Way” of spiritual childhood.

Newborn olive-skinned Jewish baby with lark
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A child’s perspective on Martha and Mary

When my eldest daughter, Maire, was about four years old, my husband and I thought to make the Sunday Gospel more understandable for her, we would start doing little skits with her at home after mass. The most memorable of these was a Sunday when the Gospel story was about Martha and Mary, (Luke 10:38-42).

My husband, Marc, played Jesus, I played Martha, and Maire played Mary. I went to the kitchen and started banging pots and pans around in an angry way. Marc sat down and started talking to Maire, sitting at his feet, about being nice to everyone, and sharing your toys. I came stomping into the room demanding that Jesus tell my sister to help me with the serving. Marc stood up and said soothingly, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and concerned about many things, but Mary has chosen the better part and it won’t be taken from her.”

I’ve never wanted the story to end there and apparently neither did Maire. She said we weren’t finished yet, so we went back to our places. My husband said, “So Mary, we need to love everyone.” My child got up, came into the kitchen, and took my hand. “It’s OK, Martha! We can trade.” She led me back to Marc, and had me sit down. And she went to the kitchen and started rattling dishes and puts and pans.

My husband and I looked at each other with wonder.

I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children

Matthew 11:25
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Flowers of Gratitude

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Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” 

I Thessalonians %:16-18

I was going through a difficult time when I was nineteen. My best friend had just died a couple of months before and I had no spiritual foundation for dealing with that. Not only that but my family was going through a difficult time as well.  All of this was made more difficult by the fact that I was not any good at processing emotions or dealing with things in helpful ways. I was trying to change that but I was  still learning. I called a mentor of mine crying, not sure what to do about feeling so bad.  She said to go for a walk and think of five things I was grateful for. I didn’t understand but I was a mess so I did as she asked. I don’t remember what I was grateful for in the end. I mostly remember that being grateful for the smallest things and keeping them in mind as I walked lifted the dark heavy cloak I felt like I was wearing by at least a few pounds.

In the many years since that time I have learned that gratitude helps not only in dark times, but even in the midst of the very darkest of times. Not only that but it seems to fix a lot of problems. It may be that gratitude helps us to accept what is. Or perhaps the slight change in perspective helps us see with more clarity and makes problems appear smaller than they did when we were freaking out, and solutions seem possible. It is a great help in relationships. Appreciating people is an important glue holding us close to one another. It’s the same with God. When Jesus healed a group of ten lepers, he was shocked that only one came back to thank him (Luke 17:11-19). He appreciates our thanks. Gratitude draws us closer to the Giver. 

I haven’t forgotten the bad things that have happened to me in life, at least not the big ones. But I have made a habit of gratitude to the point that, as I recently noticed, when I wake up I usually smile at God as soon as I am conscious. (How long has this been going on?) Generally I’m not elated much. However I am content overall and I have a lot of joy in my life. Sometimes I am really worried about something and sometimes I have anxiety or I get angry or depressed. However the smile is real and at the same time habitual. I am not sure anymore which came first.

I know that when I am feeling out of sorts, uneasy or upset, that one of the best tools in my tool box is to say, “OK what am I grateful for?” Sometimes the things I am grateful for are only things like “Well I’m grateful it’s not worse,” or “I’m grateful for the trees,” or “At least we’re not dead.” Sometimes I laugh at myself that those things are all I can think of. But they are still good things as well as real things. It’s a start. 

Fr. Brian Eilers, when I had just confessed having lost my temper with my family, said he wanted me to go out into the main church and take up my rosary. “On each bead thank God for something. Keep going until you have been all the way around the rosary.” I had been upset when I had driven to the church. But by the time I finished my penance I was smiling. I had even thanked God for my family. I’m so pleased to have them, mad or not! 

So if you’re upset or in a bad mood today, if you got bad news, or if you watched the news and lost your peace, go for a walk. While you are walking, think of five things you are grateful for. Tell God about these.  When you get back, write them down. I’ve advised this to friends having a hard time before. I usually get a good report about how it went. This also helps if you’re angry with someone you love. Think of five things you are grateful for about them. I promise it helps. It can also help when you’re mad at God which at one time or another all of us has been. And when we are happy we should be sure to thank the good God for our joy. 

“If the only prayer you ever say in your entire life is thank you, it will be enough.”

Meister Ekhart

You might like to try Fr. Brian’s gratitude beads with your rosary.

Maybe you can imagine you are putting flowers at the altar of God in Heaven. After all, he deserves them. And he usually ends up pouring them into your lap.  He loves doing that.

Loose stemless flowers on jeans lap, POV
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Why meditate on the Suffering and Death of Jesus?

  the Isenheim Altarpiece by Matthias Grünewald.

It is a pronounced characteristic of our Catholic faith that both personally and as Church we meditate deeply on the suffering of Jesus. Our crucifixes, art and literature are often graphic in their portrayals of his Passion and Death. The Saints emphasize this practice, the rosary we pray, the Church calendar, all return us to our suffering Lord. In the Stations of the Cross we walk with Jesus through his suffering step by step. Why do we do this? To an outsider it might seem ghoulish to dwell on the lurid details of his torn flesh, his bloody sweat, the tears he shed. 

The mystics say that Our Lord’s Passion is like a fire of love. The more we draw near to this fire the more we are warmed and transformed by it. 

I am a deeply sensitive, and, I hope, compassionate person. I am always uncomfortable with the Sorrowful Mysteries of the Rosary (traditionally prayed on Tuesdays and Fridays. During Lent it is also on Sundays).  Meditating on the Sorrowful Mysteries, we follow Jesus through his Agony in the Garden of Gethsemane, his Scourging at the Pillar, his Crown of Thorns, his Carrying the Cross, his Crucifixion and Death. It’s tough. But I don’t want to leave him alone in his sorrow. I want to share in it as his mother did. I want to comfort and help him. Also we can’t expect to only share the sweetness of the Lord without the bitterness of the cross.  Part of love is acceptance. I don’t want to only love part of Jesus I want to love all of him, accept everything. That means following him not only in his joyous times but right into the valley of death as well, and the cruelty he experienced from others. 

For me the fact of the betrayal of Judas, Our Lord’s broken heart, his grief, the abuse heaped on him, have helped me accept the sorrows in my own life. Sharing in his pain has made me more able to not look away from the suffering of others but to ‘weep with those who weep.”  (Romans 12:15)

A Methodist minister friend told me he noticed that Catholics don’t see ourselves as witnesses of the events in the life of Jesus. We think of ourselves as taking part in a very present way in our prayer and especially at mass. We are there at the Last Supper at mass. We don’t think we are witnessing something. It’s not a story. We are in it.  I like that. Maybe this points to why we submerge ourselves in the torture and cruelty of his death in such detail. We’re helping ourselves be there. 

Our Lord’s Passion teaches about love as intense faithfulness and determination, sacrifice, acceptance. It helped me stand by my husband all through his fight with brain cancer. In his darkest and fearful moments I listened to him talk about his feelings of raw desolation, anger, and even shame, of terror, of feeling there was no comfort anywhere. In spite of my love for him, part of me wanted to run and hide from the enormity of what he was expressing.  

I had no mitigating words to say. The profound suffering of another person is frightening to be present to. When he eventually asked how I felt about this on a spiritual level, all I had was the fact of Christ’s suffering. At least as we went through this with cancer we had a God with us who didn’t die gracefully in a shower of rose petals but was coldly executed, naked and bleeding like an animal, nailed to a cross, with a cry of spiritual abandonment only just having died on his lips. 

My husband nodded gravely. He got it. 

 1565
Oil on canvas
Scuola Grande di San Rocco, Venice

The Christian life is illuminated by the choice of Jesus to take our suffering on himself. It was our sins, our iniquities, yes, but our suffering too, according to Isaiah. 

“Surely he took up our pain and bore our suffering… by his wounds we are healed” Isaiah 53:4-5

The incomparable light he generated by choosing to undergo his Passion as an offering shines forever. It reminds me in my own darkest times, of his compassion. My tears are his too. St. Teresa of Avila says so great is his compassion that when you visit him in his agony he will forget his own sorrow in looking at you and wanting to comfort you. 

As we approach Holy Week let’s avail ourselves of the opportunity to love Jesus through his suffering and death, and to let him love us too.

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Prayer and solidarity in a dark church

The church was dark and warm when I came in. I could hear sleepy children stirring in the corners, and see the shapes of people in the pews. I had missed the rosary but adoration would go on until late. The one light shone on the exposed Eucharist on the alter. I sat down in the back, then knelt to pray in the silence.

I noticed cantors were standing in a dimly lit alcove. One of them stood up and read something in Spanish that I thought was from the Gospel of John. I left off studying my Spanish this summer and I’ve already forgotten a lot but it sounded like something from that Gospel. I can’t remember what it was now. Jesus calming the waves? There were prayers. Something about children, loved ones, fear. The reader sounded not only somber but sad. They sang a Mexican hymn about walking with the Lord.

It sounds like any Adoration night in a Catholic Church. However I haven’t yet mentioned that the feeling as I came through the church doors was overwhelming sadness, an oppressive sorrow that was almost crushing. I can’t be sure that was what people there were feeling but if they were it would make sense.

This parish I was visiting is primarily Latino parish. We have had ICE here the last couple of weeks. We are not a big town. We used to be small but I suppose we’re medium now. Local TV has reported on where agents been sited, arrests they have made. Local police have made announcements telling us not to interfere with ICE. The popular news anchor has posted videos of ICE activity people have sent him. Unusually for this conservative bastion of a town, there have been school walk-outs, protests, prayer vigils, almost every day that ICE has been here.

Obviously this situation has caused stress for a lot of people. Nothing like in Minnesota. In fact I have only seen a couple of ICE agents in person, and one abandoned car with the doors open on the road.

I didn’t feel like trying to do any structural mental prayer. My mind was unusually clear and still. Making it do anything felt like introducing unnecessary clutter so I went with just sitting still, being conscious, being present.

As time went by I felt sorrow grow. Maybe it was me. Maybe it was all of us.

More prayers. I heard the phrases, “my heart,” and “your heart” several times. Another song about trusting God, I think. People came in, others left quietly, sleeping children over their shoulders. A boy came around with a box of LED votive lights. Soon there was one at the end of each pew, flickering like candles. The priest walked down the aisle checking on everyone. For me sorrow kept deepening. I began to feel an intense wreath of warmth around my heart.

Silence. More Scripture, more prayers. The trust and love they were expressing reminded me of our family’s attitude when my husband Bob had brain cancer. “Everything will be OK and even if it’s not OK it will be OK,” we used to say. In other words, “This is terrible and we have hope that it can end well. But no matter what has to happen, we will be with you, Lord, and we will always have you.”

They were live streaming the event; probably for anyone too ill to attend or too afraid to come to church or leave the house. I thought that the people in the church were probably not the ones who were especially targets. They were here to pray for everyone else. It would be likely that they are worried about someone they knew, a family member maybe.

I was likely the only white person there. I could have no idea what this community within my community was going through or what it was like to be them right now. This prayer vigil was a vigil for peace. It had been announced as a way to “put everything in God’s hands.” It struck me that the people I was sitting with likely did not have much they could do about the situation. All they had was God.

I felt such gratitude that they were letting me sit with them at the feet of Jesus even though I can’t possibly share what they were going through. I had that sense of astonishment that I was sitting among a persecuted people. Maybe some of them didn’t know what had happened to someone they loved, whether they were being tortured or starved or beaten, whether they were far away in a dangerous country, whether they would ever see that person again. It was one of those moments when I couldn’t believe this is my country.

I looked at the people around me again. “Jesus I know these are your people,” I prayed. “I will do whatever I can, whatever you ask me to do for them. Just make me able.” My eyes filled. “Thank you for letting me be with them tonight.“

After about an hour, which passed quickly, I left.

I talked to my daughter Roise about the sadness I felt. Was I right that there was sadness in the voices of the cantors and readers? Was I projecting a pleading sentiment onto them? Was it my feelings coming out?

Roise suggested that as Catholics we believe that we are the Body of Christ together. Especially in the Eucharist, we are one together, sharing everything. Maybe I was sensing their feelings or maybe I was just part of the Body of Christ feeling its pain. When one part suffers all the others do too.

We thought about it some more. “Imagine how sad Jesus is about all this.”

Neither of us had anything else to say after that.

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The subject tonight is love

My brother, Mark Manning

The subject tonight is Love
And for tomorrow night as well,
As a matter of fact,
I know of no better topic
For us to discuss
Until we all Die!

Hafiz

It’s been my brother Mark’s birthday today. He would have been 56. (1970-2015)
I was thinking about love and letting go. I actually don’t like the phrase “letting go.” To me it sounds like sending someone away, like forgetting them. I hate that.


However somebody pointed out to me this morning that loosening my grip this Christmas on our family traditions, my ability to be more open to doing something new and allowing our Christmas to unfold in the new family we are, was a letting go. The fact that I was OK today on my brother’s birthday though a little sad at times, and that I was OK not doing anything in particular in his honor necessarily, was letting go.

That sounds a little scary for me but it’s alright. I am always afraid if I don’t try hard to remember and keep everything I know about them, I will forget the people I have lost. I really fear that. I don’t want them to be far away from me- like childhood friends whose names I can’t really remember anymore. I don’t want to let them go.

Then I thought about how love is a living thing. Love changes and grows as the people in the relationship do. Love is not static. It isn’t only in the past. Love isn’t diminished by change In fact love deepens as people adjust and sacrifice in the midst of and because of it they grow together and for one another.

The love between my brother and me is a living thing. Death has changed our situation drastically. Love has had to adjust and change and grow with that. But death can’t take away love. And maybe that is what it means to let go; when I don’t need to force anything to feel connected, or struggle to wrest back any little scrap death has left behind when it raided my family and took so many people away. Maybe letting go is to be able to trust that love just is and I can let it be itself.

My dad used to say that my brother probably loved me more than anyone on the planet loved anyone. What if I can trust that he still does? He always loved me just as I was. I loved him like that too.

I love my brother as he is right now, even not quite knowing what that is like to be him right now. When I get there with him I expect to love him even more. Death can’t do anything about that.

.So faith, hope, love remain, these three; but the greatest of these is love.

1 Corinthians 13: 13

*My brother Mark Manning at 7 years old.

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Harden not your heart

Photo by Ricky Esquivel on Pexels.com


Ezekiel 36:25-27

I shall pour clean water over you and you will be cleansed; I shall cleanse you of all your defilement and all your idols. I shall give you a new heart, and put a new spirit in you; I shall remove the heart of stone from your bodies and give you a heart of flesh instead. I shall put my spirit in you, and make you keep my laws and sincerely respect my observances.

What I think about with this is how good it feels when God cleanses us from our nonsense so that we can see clearly, our conscience enlightened by his presence. In this world it is so difficult not to form idols of one kind or another, and so natural to harden our hearts. But this isn’t what God wants of us. We need new hearts that see and love as God does. We need to be set free of our tendency to worship all the wrong things. We think of God’s law as don’t do this, don’t do that but God’s law is always love. Jesus made that clear for all time especially when he gave his new commandment to love one another as he has loved us. We need his grace overflowing to even come close. Yet we have access to that grace. We just need to want it, ask for it, practice it as best we can. He will do the rest. 

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Merry Christmas

Mass was beautiful this morning and I got to read the second reading for “Christmas mass during the day.” I loved this reading.

A Reading from the Letter to the Hebrews

In times past, God spoke in partial and various ways to our ancestors through the prophets; 

in these last days, he spoke to us through a son, whom he made heir of all things and through whom he created the universe,

who is the refulgence of his glory,

the very imprint of his being,

and who sustains all things by his mighty word.

When he had accomplished purification from sins,

he took his seat at the right hand of the Majesty on high,

as far superior to the angels

as the name he has inherited is more excellent than theirs.

For to which of the angels did God ever say:

“You are my Son,

This day I have begotten you.”

Or again:

“I will be a father to him, and he shall be a son to me”?

And again, when he leads* the first-born into the world, he says:

“Let all the angels of God worship him.”


I love mass at Christmas. Everyone smiles extra, whispering “merry Christmas” to one another. All the incense and poetic antiphons and prayers, the extra beautiful church and Christmas music that catches at the heart, brings us into the moment. The realization that we are all in the manger now – in the physical as well as spiritual presence of Jesus as much as the shepherds and Mary and Joseph that day strikes me. Jesus is fully present in the Eucharist and we can adore and as Mary did, receive.

Outside was an unhoused gray haired man alseep on a bench across the street. And there was Jesus again. Right here. Right now. I had seen him as I looked for s parking spot. I didn’t have any money on me. I didn’t want to disturb his sleep to ask him what else he might need. All I could do was offer my reception of the Eucharist for him and pray for him at mass.

By the grace of Christmas I ask that I will get another chance to help him in some way, and that when he wakes up someone will surprise him by filling a need of his, or giving him a gift he likes or a hug- or invites him over for Christmas dinner. Emanuel ; God is with us in a special way on this Christmas Day.

This evening I am thinking of going over to visit the Holy Family, maybe bring them some of these cookies.

Maybe Mary is still learning to breastfeed Jesus, straw in her hair, blanket over her shoulder. Maybe Joseph is out looking for something for her to eat, or hurrying back. He can’t wait to see them. He is so excited and in awe. He thinks how he will always protect them and how amazing it is that he gets to be with them for the rest of his life and care for them. He can still hardly believe it.

Come and catch him at the door, give him a big hug. Let him lead you to his, to our, greatest Treasure, held in Mary’s arms.

Stay and eat with them.

What do they tell you?

What do you tell them?

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