Bethany Hang Out

A Christmas Rosary (The Joyful Mysteries)

A personal tradition of mine on Christmas night after all the hubbub is done, the household is asleep, and the living room is dark, is to settle in a comfortable spot near the lit Christmas tree and pray a sweet rosary. Gently bathed in the multicolored lights of the tree, with something hot to drink, I’m especially comfortable and relaxed. Join me. 🙂

Take me, Lord, to the center of everything, into the mysteries of your Incarnation and Childhood. Take me into Mary’s pondering heart.

If you forgot or don’t know how to pray the rosary, check here. for instructions.

If you don’t have a rosary guess what? God made us with the perfect number of fingers to make do with as a rosary of the moment!

The important thing is to settle down and to pray with attentive love.

So take a few steady breaths. Most likely it’s been a long day hasn’t it? My head is usually swimming at the end of Christmas festivities even if they were nice. My feelings swirl around in me without much definition and I need quiet and solitude with God. Maybe you feel like that too. So take a nice deep breath so you can concentrate now, releasing it slowly. Smile a small smile in a relaxed way. Think of Mary’s joy. She was tired on this night too after all. Let’s relax with her and look at Jesus.

Come, Holy Spirit, come by means of the powerful intercession of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, Thy well- beloved spouse.

Proceed as usual with the Apostle’s Creed, an Our Father, and three Hail Marys in honor of her faith, hope and love that brought us to this moment with the Lord.

First Joyful Mystery: The Annunciation to Mary and the Incarnation of the Lord within her

Mary’s humility was light, natural and free. Real humility is only the truth about ourselves and Mary was grounded and centered in truth. She was free to respond with wonder and love and also to ask for clarification from the Angel Gabriel. “How can this be since I am a virgin?” Once she understood how this would happen, in freedom and with love she accepted. God the Son became a tiny pin point asking for shelter and love and she said yes. It was a quiet thing. And he was there. Maybe she cried. Maybe she smiled. Maybe both.

“To whom God willed to make known what are the riches of the glory of this mystery among the Gentiles, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.”
Colossians 1:27

The Second Joyful Mystery: The Visitation of Mary to Elizabeth

Mary seems to have gone alone to see her kinswoman Elizabeth. She didn’t hesitate, either. She “went with haste.” Nobody told her to. She seemed to just be drawn there. She must have felt full of the stars God showed Abraham as she hurried to Elizabeth’s, stars bright across the sky, stars in her body, woven in her hair, scatted in her path. I wonder if she felt so astonished and scared and excited that sometimes she ran? Elizabeth heard Mary’s voice calling to her. Nobody told her anything. She just knew. And it seemed the baby she carried knew too. She knew she was in the presence of the Lord and that Mary was her queen. Both women prophesied in joy. The first two Christians, the first two gathered in his Name. God took care of them both through one another. Mary needed understanding, partnership and support, someone to pray with her who was in on the Secret. Elizabeth needed help, companionship and understanding too. They must have had an amazing, as well as joyfully ordinary three months together, leaving both women stronger.

A faithful friend is a sturdy shelter:
    [she] that has found one has found a treasure.
There is nothing so precious as a faithful friend,
    and no scales can measure [her] excellence.
A faithful friend is an elixir of life;
    and those who fear the Lord will find [her].
Sirach 6:14-16

The Nativity of Jesus

None of the women of her family or village were there to help her. Men were not used to being part of the birthing process. But Joseph, surrounded by the kindly witness of the animals who seemed to understand, did his utmost for Mary that night in the dark, in the hay of a stable. Maybe she told him what she needed since she would have seen many births by then, going with her mother to help the other women. Joseph held her close and they prayed, wiping tears from each other’s faces, telling each other “You’re so brave!”

Mary laid the Baby in a feeding trough after his first nursing and after wrapping him in swaddling cloth she had brought with her, while Joseph cleaned up and brought her water. Then they would have placed the baby between them and slept, waking to feed him, to gently laugh and touch his soft little head wondering what was going to happen now as beyond the stable the rising star of Bethlehem shone out to the three wise men on their travels, and the angels sang to the shepherds in the fields filling the sky and their hearts with awe and joy.

The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, coming from the Father, full of grace and truth.
John 1:14

The Presentation of the Baby Jesus in the Temple

Oh no this was not what she thought she would hear at all; that Jesus would be rejected? That her heart would be pierced with a sword? What did it mean? The Angel had not said this. But Simeon had recognized him. She and Joseph had listened astonished as the old man blessed God and declared he could go in peace because he had seen the Savior as God had promised him. The prophetess Ana had known him too, had spoken about him. What is this God was telling them!? Joseph was worried because Simeon hadn’t said anything about him which made him think Mary and Jesus would face this calamity alone and it broke his heart. But Joseph and Mary were brave young people, full of love and determination. They discussed Simeon’s words on their way home. What would they do? Maybe Joseph said that there was only one thing to do: to love Jesus and each other, and to go on knowing they would walk with him as far as the Lord allowed. Mary squeezed his hand. “After all,” she said, “what else is there?” “God is it,” Joseph said. “God is it and that’s it.”

I say to the LORD,

you are my Lord,

you are my only good.
Psalm 16:2

The Finding of the Child Jesus in the Temple

“Mary, please try to eat,” Joseph pleaded. “Maybe you should sleep,” she said. “Maybe you will have one of your dreams.” But there was no sign, and no one knew where Jesus was. They prayed as they walked and searched with growing desperation, calling his name.

Finally they found him in the Temple. Mary interrupted the questions of the teachers of the law to embrace her Son. “Why have you done this to us? We have been looking for you everywhere!” Jesus was surprised. “Didn’t you know I would be here in my Father’s house?” The teachers were telling Joseph how amazed they had been to hear the uncanny wisdom of his child. Jospeh and Mary weren’t sure what was going on. But Jesus went home with them and kept growing, learning, and loving them, and they loved him back.

Maybe you feel like you have lost Jesus. Maybe you can’t find him and be with him the way you used to. But he is there in the Temple of your heart and you will find him again.

Do you not realize that Christ Jesus is in you?
Corinthians 13:5

Now imagine yourself with Mary. She is there with you, smiling gently, looking at you expectantly. Take her hand and pray the Hail Holy Queen. Add some words of your own. Maybe you would like to say, “Thank you Mother Mary. Thank you for all that you did to bring us Jesus and to be with us on our way.” Wish her a Merry Christmas. 🙂 Merry Christmas Mother Mary. And happy birthday, Lord. Happy birthday to you.

December 24, 2023 1

The holidays without them

A few days ago I was interviewed on local Catholic radio about loss and grief, my stories and relationships with my family and friends who have died, and how my faith figured into the journey.

One of the questions I was asked was whether I had any advice about handling the holidays. As you may know I lost my first husband in a car accident 25 years ago. Then, between 2012 and 2015 we lost four family members, all tragically. My second husband we lost to brain cancer. Six months later my mom, only 63, died of a combination of things; COPD, Lymphoma, untreated Lyme’s disease and dementia. My brother committed suicide in 2015 and my step dad died in a house fire four months later. These were the people we usually spent the holidays with.

Honestly we haven’t done well with holidays at all since all that, especially without my mom, the holiday queen (or shall we say dictator). We hardly ever had to do anything except bring a thing or two and stay out of her way, being unquestioningly obedient and obsequious to her requirements of us. These included No (more) practical jokes (that had been a major coup attempt to take over her iron fisted rule over the holidays) no disorder or chaos of any kind, and everyone cooperate peacefully and sing Christmas Carols whether we liked it or not.

We missed all of that after her death. We would never be able to cook like that (and for DAYS), set a beautiful Fiesta ware table like that, make flower arrangements ourselves from our own garden or provide the atmosphere she did. We would never do two Christmas trees; one artistic and one victorian style in different parts of the house, or line the sidewalk with luminares, or cover everything with color themed lights, or wrap the presents in themed artistically matching colors. Or be her. We could never be her. Nobody could. And nobody Could read The Grinch Who Stole Christmas like her. It only made us sad.

Photo by Karolina Grabowska on Pexels.com

So that first Thanksgiving without her we did something completely different. We had a chaotic Thanksgiving pot luck at my step brother’s house. It was loud with football on the TV the whole time and music playing and people in the band room banging the drums and everybody talking in every room. Lots of people people people.

My step brother has become more of a recluse since then. We don’t see much of him though there is no ill will and only deep affection between us. We keep in touch.

So pretty much we didn’t really do Thanksgiving. I mean not really. Sometimes we did very little and it depressed everyone even more. Other times we did nothing. It would just be my daughters and me and the babies.

At Christmas we did what we needed to do for the three kids but everyone kept it as simple and quiet as possible. It was hard not to get depressed. We usually did get depressed. I truly longed for Christmas to just be a religious feast day instead of all the other stuff on top of that.

Photo by Thgusstavo Santana on Pexels.com

Eventually we began to bring back some traditions we missed, like going around the table doing “wishes and gratefuls” on Thanksgiving. You say three things you are grateful for about the year. Then you wish the person sitting next to

you a year of whatever you see them needing or wanting. We brought that back. The kids come up with some pretty sweet and funny things to say too.

We brought back our old household tradition of leaving Santa cigarettes and beer on Christmas Eve. We know from experience that is what St. Nicholas is into. He left cigarette buts and beer cans all over the yard that time he set up a trampoline for the girls all those years ago. So we give him what he really wants.

But THIS year for the first time I am truly excited about the holidays. Because THIS year we have a HOUSE to have these events in! Our own HOUSE again. We have room for sitting at the table, to invite friends too, room in the kitchen for my daughters and I to cook together, a yard for the kids to play in. We don’t understand football at all but I want to put it on anyway. It will remind us of our men and we will just be comforted by it, not, I am hoping, sad. I think we may even be happy.

All of my mom’s Fiesta ware except a tea cup and a salt shaker were destroyed in the fire but I have been building a new collection. And we have SO much to be grateful for!

I plan to introduce some new traditions as well. We plan to light candles on the table for each of our beloved dead. Also when the girls were little we had poetry night and A.A. Milne night. On A.A. Milne night we would take turns reading from The World of Pooh and laugh and laugh. That stuff is hilarious. We continued that into their teens and laughed just as much.

And poetry night we could read one of our own poems or someone else’s we admired. We used to have a lot of fun with that.

We used to break into a family dance sometimes after dinner.

I’m thinking we could read aloud from The World of Pooh after Thanksgiving Dinner and then have a family dance.

On Christmas Eve last year I got the kids to memorize a poem each. It turned out really funny. (Especially the Shell Silverstein ones). I should start working with them earlier this time. But we can have poetry night again this Christmas. We will all do a poem!

There is even a yard for the kids to play in afterwards. I think it will be good.

Mom’s house was always filled with cigarette smoke on holidays because so many of us smoked. None of the smokers are with us anymore. But maybe we will light one up just to recreate the ambience.

I almost forgot we have a fire pit. So we can have a fire and my youngest can play guitar and we can sing our family song, Wish You We’re Here by Pink Floyd. 🙂

And any time my daughters and I are together we end up telling stories about the people we miss and what they used to do or say back then. We still miss them. But mostly we laugh.

And anyway, we know they are still here. They are probably laughing too. Even Mom. 😉

November 18, 2023 2

In her hearing

During these horrifying days of unutterable violence and war, of every kind of atrocity, what can we do? We are far away. We are not leaders of nations. We have to go to work, we have to let the dogs out, listen to a little kid, put dinner together, and also be horrified, feel helpless, ache for the children caught in this, and feed the cat. We have to figure out what to wear tomorrow, wonder if we forgot something we were supposed to do, and as the scenes of mutilation blood and terror cross our minds we wonder what to even say to God.

Maybe nothing.

Maybe we should just let our hearts be pierced as Mary did. We could take on her pure and open heart completely in tune with her suffering Son’s and willing to be present and active in those hours he was slowly dying. She accepted the piercing of her heart, and “the secret thoughts of many [were laid] bare.” I used to wonder what that last part meant. I couldn’t get an answer from anyone about it that seemed right.

But what happens when our secret thoughts are laid bare? We see the truth about ourselves. Our conscience is awakened and we tend to desire to change. Maybe the piercing of Mary’s heart caused conversion of heart for others and still does.

At the same time she was made the mother of all Christians from the cross by Jesus, she received from God a special gift for nudging us toward conversion, of laying bare the truth within us. This would be in line with her role as Spouse of the Holy Spirit who is the Spirit of Truth and Love.

We know Mary has been given unique gifts and that she intercedes for us in heaven. She is advocate of the people of God and she hears the cries of the world.

Such is her unity with God that in her hearing of suffering her knowledge of it is already prayer. Mary is there in Israel and Gaza now touching every face, assisting the dying, suffering with those in distress and in the piercing of her heart at the foot of this cross the possibilities open for changes of heart.

She is to be found wherever her Son is found, exactly where he said he would be; among those who are hungry naked imprisoned or persecuted. He is with the suffering and so is Our Lady. She is there praying with all who pray. Her feet are muddy and her face is streaked with tears. She wants us to join her and in the wind of the Spirit we can.

This is not a helpless dwelling on the horror taking place. This is knowing that God makes our little prayers BIG. We are to reign with Christ and this is how he shares his reign with us. He loves to share his mission with his disciples.

We don’t know what God will do in response. But we know he will do something. We know he gave the world a mother we need so much.

We can take on the mind and heart of Mary. We can go with her and bring comfort in mysterious ways, change hearts even when we don’t know it. We can become windows of grace God’s will can flow through into this world.

We are only little windows but God doesn’t care. He shares his power and love to widen our hearts for his love to flow through.

And in our hearing and seeing and knowing if we remain close to God, our silence becomes full and active. What we know instantly becomes intercession, becomes prayer.

When you hear of bloodshed and terror you will already be praying, and prayer does things.

Like Mary let our hearts be pierced at the foot of this cross. May God receive our offering.

“Come, Holy Spirit, come by means of the powerful intercession of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, thy well beloved spouse.”

Photo by RDNE Stock project on Pexels.com

October 12, 2023 2

Texas, what the heck?

I have been puzzled by recent attempts by the Texas legislature to bring religion into the schools. What were our leaders expecting to accomplish by putting the Ten Commandments on classroom walls (this one failed) in public schools? (And anyway why not the Beatitudes?)

And now what do they want with putting chaplains in schools to do the mental health work that school counselors usually do? To save money? In that case what about having other religious leaders from other religions in as well? I haven’t heard anything about that so I don’t know.

If the chaplains at school idea fails (it went into effect September 1 but I anticipate problems) I expect there will be another way proposed to bring their version of Christianity into the public schools of Texas.

But what are they trying to do exactly?

Having been raised without religion during a time when prayer was allowed at school and commonly practiced, I can say that it was always uncomfortable for me, sometimes upsetting and often embarrassing. I used to hide under my desk sometimes- and get in trouble for that and for my lack of participation. I was in first grade but I felt very much like they were disrespecting my parents and what they believed in and how they wanted to raise us, though I don’t remember talking to my parents about this

Having religion forced on me by the school, and being consequently judged about my lack of it by the other kids and their parents too, kept me closed to any relationship with Jesus for years. So their actions seemed counter productive to me and manipulative too. What good does that kind of exposure to religion do God?

Why would God want anyone to come to him by fear or force? (And anyway how would that be possible)? I can’t imagine that he could possibly want that. The whole point of life with God is love. You can’t force love. How can anyone come to love God when God means empty conformity and the enforcement of rules?

And do our leaders actually think that there is no moral code outside the Ten Commandments? That nobody knows right from wrong if they don’t see them? I don’t know. They probably do think that.

I just can’t get my head around this.

Do they think that God approves of religion as a form of government control? What an insult to true faith that is. What kind of God does that “make” God (as if you can make God be or do anything)? Just as you can’t force love you certainly can’t force faith either.

Maybe they think the kids have never been exposed to the Ten Commandments? Maybe not. But how do they know? Anyway some of the Commandments sound very different to a secular person than they do to a religious person. Without love and understanding they can sound just mean. The part about coveting your neighbor’s possessions in which the neighbor’s wife is listed as a possession, I would not want a kid to read without explanation and some adjustment to the current understanding that women are not men’s property.

What are you trying to do Texas?

Do tell.

Because it looks like an insult to both God and to kids who are not religious or who are from religions other than Judaism or Christianity. My Catholic faith teaches me that we are to respect other religions and people. This is not it.

Jesus said to do unto others they way you would want them to do with you. Wouldn’t we freak out if the Eight Noble Truths of the Buddha or a list of Yogic principles of conduct were were being put on school walls? Or if an Imam were being sent in to do counseling at school?

Plenty of Christians would definitely be out protesting for religious liberty, demanding the Bible be displayed, our priests and preachers sent in as well. We would certainly object to religion being taught in classrooms then.

We’re not being good Christians by attempting force, exclusion and control when it comes to Jesus. I think he would hate that. Jesus wants us to choose him and love him for real and of our own free will. Right?

What are we doing here? What do we really think is going to happen?

I love you, Texas. You’re my home and my people.

But what are you trying to do? This is just crazy talk.

September 25, 2023 0

Triumph of the Cross

“The Sovereign Lord has opened my ears;
    I have not been rebellious,
    I have not turned away.
I offered my back to those who beat me,
    my cheeks to those who pulled out my beard;
I did not hide my face
    from mocking and spitting.
Because the Sovereign Lord helps me,
    I will not be disgraced.
Therefore have I set my face like flint,
    and I know I will not be put to shame.”

(Isaiah 50:5-7)

Anyone can give intellectual assent to Christ’s existence, his nature and purpose. Anyone can quote Scripture. Satan did both of those things. When the devil tempted Jesus in the desert he quoted Scripture just fine. The demons exorcised by Jesus proclaimed his truth screaming, “You are the Christ the Som of God!” as they left the scene at his command.. So it isn’t enough to know the Bible or to acknowledge Jesus in order to belong to him. Following him, identifying with him, seeking unity with him, living as he did, loving him in all of his mystery, that is what being Christian is.

His triumph was all of the things that most confound the forces of hell: sacrifice, obedience, love, surrender, acceptance, humility, non-violence, abandonment to God, suffering and losing a fight in front of the whole world, and on purpose.

Even we don’t understand it unless we console ourselves that he was resurrected on the third day, which he was. But in that moment he died with trust and abandonment. He gave himself over and faced his enemies in silence.

This throws Satan, and sadly it throws us too.

Even we Christians hold a deep attachment to violence and revenge. We cannot let go of the exhilarating high of vainglorious triumph.

And yet the Beautiful One admonished us to take up our crosses and follow him.

I don’t think that is simply putting up with the hardships of life hoping for reward though I know that is part of it. I think we need to respond to the violent world as he did.

Turning the other cheek to me means, “I will not be turned back from love.” That kind of power can only come from God and we have to want it.

We have to renounce ourselves and follow Jesus. That’s how we find life and even find ourselves.

I haven’t gotten there yet. I have been there sometimes but it is not yet my home, my way of being. Not yet. I suppose that is how it is for most of us.

I still want to win. I want to win, I tell myself, for others; for the poor, for those on the margins, for immigrants. However, like anyone, my motivations are mixed. There is still a selfishness and pride in it. We all want to force things, to feel powerful. It is the effect of the fall of humanity in us.

The real battle we have is against ourselves, as St. Teresa of Avila says. And this is hard, she points out, “because we love ourselves very much.”

God gave us an innate sense of justice and right. There is nothing wrong with this. We go wrong when we stray from the Gospel. A line in the Oscar Romero movie, Romero got to me. St. Oscar said to a fellow priest and advocate for justice, who tried to talk him into joining the rebels with him on behalf of the suffering people of El Salvador, “If you do this you will lose God just as they [those he would take up arms against] have.” Whether these were St. Romero’s exact words or not it is an incredibly powerful statement. It rings utterly true. If we persist in our attachment to violence we will lose God. Nothing, absolutely nothing is worth that. And we will “lie down in torment.” (Isaiah 50:11)

I have read that some people are starting to complain to their pastors when they preach on the Beatitudes, that the preaching was too left leaning. When confronted with the fact that these are the words of Jesus Christ, they retort that this is outdated, doesn’t work, is “weak.” Look at us. We haven’t changed. The Cross, the Gospel, is still a scandal, still makes no sense.

However, When he was insulted, he returned no insult; when he suffered, he did not threaten; instead, he handed himself over to the one who judges justly. (1 Peter 2:23)

“For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you might follow in his steps” (1 Peter 2:21).

There is really no way around that.

Even those of us who know and accept the teachings of Jesus have parts of ourselves still attached to violence and our own ideas of justice. We still hope Jesus will clear the world of bad people on his return.. Not us though because we are nice people, right?

St. John of the Cross said that even if the only thing keeping a little bird tied to a tree branch is the thinnest of threads, the bird is still tethered, still not free.

We have to cut the thread.

On this Triumph of the Cross in 2023, in this era of mass shootings, unkindness and cruelty, and the promotion of a lack of compassion as a good thing by a significant portion of society, even by a good number of our fellow Christians, lets renounce violence in the Name of Christ, embracing instead the way of Jesus.

We can’t belong to the Christ of Revelation unless we belong to the Jesus of the Gospels with all that he showed us.

Thank God he is with us to help us with his endless grace.

He who has begun the work in us will complete it. (Philippians 1:6)

We have only to decide, every day, and trust that he will triumph in us.

“I have promised it and I will do it, says the Lord.” (Ezekiel 37:14b)

September 14, 2023 1

A ridiculous story

I forgot something in my post about what I did this summer. It’s just a ridiculous story. My life seems to be dotted with crazy stories involving animals. Here is another one.

My eldest daughter lives out in the country. She had a neighbor she was going to get me some chickens from. I like to raise them from chicks (it’s more fun) but I was open to it. I wouldn’t have to wait until spring this way. I requested hens only, all different colors so I could tell them apart and get to know them, and I asked for only four of them.

I wasn’t ready yet though. My daughter helped us move and at the end of the day offered to go pick up those chickens. I said I hadn’t had the chance to get a coop ready for them or anything. She said they had told her it’s today or never.

I don’t think sometimes so I said OK I would figure it out. I worked on it but there is just no rushing something like that. When she pulled up in her truck I was still excited to meet them though. Maire said, “Well these look like a different kind of chicken. And there are six of them. I was’t sure what to do so I went ahead and took them.”

They sure were loud. I looked in at them. They looked like turkeys and seemed almost as big. They looked at me and started screaming at me. I said, “These aren’t chickens.”

Maire said, “What do you want me to do? I can take them but the coyotes will get them for sure.” “I guess for the moment we can put them in the garage.” So we dragged the large dog crate they were banging around in, those crazy things, into the garage.

After she left I decided to try hanging out with them for a while and see what they were all about. I was trying not to be disappointed. Chickens are funny and endearing. These things were a little scary. I noticed one of them seemed slower and more hapless than the others. She kept getting separated from them and freaking out. The others had to call to her and find her. I started to worry because by my reckoning it was probably about 120 degrees in the garage. I couldn’t leave them in there. I thought of a truckload of chickens that broke down years ago and how all the chickens got too hot and died. Hundreds of them. I couldn’t risk that. I didn’t have a coop for them but my yard was fenced. So I decided to let them out where at least they wouldn’t die of heat.

To let them into the back yard they had to come through a room that probably used to be a back porch. We call it the sun room. The birds shot into the sun room screaming their heads off. I opened the back door and most of them ran out to the yard. That slow one got stuck in the shower somehow and was hitting the walls and screaming like a banshee flapping her wings. My dog was barking and the cats went streaking from the scene. I finally managed to catch her and get her to her friends outside.

I went out with them to see what happened. My dog was going berserk at the back door. They poked around for a minute, checking out the situation and then they all flew away.

I don’t know why I was shocked. Maybe because chickens can fly but not really. I rarely have had a chicken go over the fence. Trying to roost in the trees on a low branch, yes but just… leaving?

So I was shocked. How disloyal of them!

Admittedly we didn’t really know each other.

Well what now? Should I try to catch them? That did not seem possible. And where would I put them? I didn’t have a place for them anyway.

Then I thought, “Did any of the neighbors see this?” I didn’t think so. I hoped not. They would surely not be any too happy to have me as a new neighbor if they did.

I was worried about the not-chickens. One of ,my employers has a background in poultry science. So I asked him if they would be alright. He said they were guinea hens and ill suited for “urban life.” He said they were very loud and obnoxious. I could agree with that. He said even if I caught them they would just leave again unless I caged them which sounded like a sad life. Apparently they would be fine. We even live near a creek.

I found out they will eat squirrels and other rodents or any small animals. My boss said that if I had chickens they would have attacked them and eaten them. They sounded like real charmers.

I actually was impressed with their loyalty to each other, though, and their care for the slower membr of their group. Also they mate for life which is cool.

However none of that mattered because the situation with those things was completely out of my hands.

We saw them from time to time over the next several days walking along the road or in a neighbor’s yard. Something about this cracked us up.

Just when we thought they had moved on we would hear them in the trees next door screeching. Taking the trash out one night it sounded like one of them got separated from the others and was calling out. The others answered back from across the street, like “Is that you Mabel?”

This happened again another time and the whole gang ran single file down the alleyway looking ridiculous and sounding insane, to reunite with their friend.

I had to laugh as they went by like a gaggle of old ladies on the attack. But it is cool how they take care of each other.

My youngest daughter saw them all the way over at St. Joseph’s walking along a busy road seemingly arguing with one another.

In fact I saw them today already walking through our front yard. They’re still hanging around the area. Screaming.

Sometimes people drive by those goonie birds, laughing when they see them. I guess it’s a “what the heck!?” kind of laugh.

I hope they haven’t killed too many squirrels or carried off anybody’s chihuahua.

Yes I confess I have released a terrorist avian gang into my new neighborhood.

Sorry.

If you want to hear what they sound like I found a video on YouTube.

September 9, 2023 2

What I did this Summer

Brown and yellow leaves flutter to the ground from the trees outside my window; not because of the advent of autumn but from heat stress. This is common in Texas this time of year. However the heat has been relentless this summer. It wasn’t just triple digit heat now and then but every day every day every day every day. I would even say it was brutal. I’m content though. It’s been a great summer all the same.

My daughters traveled a lot but I didn’t. That means lots of extra child care has come my way. I would like the girls to settle down now, as much as I adore to distraction all three of my grandchildren, (ages 7, 6 and 4). However I am soon to have the boys for a few days. It should be both fun and exhausting.

A very consequential event this summer was the rescue of a box of abandoned puppies by my eldest daughter. Sadly one of them died at her house. After that my youngest daughter and I took the other two, both very ill. We did try to get them to the emergency room at the vet school here but they would not take them. They offered to euthanize them but we were unwilling. It was late at night so we took them home with us. For a couple of days I slept with both puppies cuddled up to me. The female was apparently blind, either from injury, illness or maybe she was born that way. Her eyes were a milky blue and she obviously saw nothing through them. The established dogs at my eldest daughter’s house kept attacking her. The remaining puppies clung to one another, often licking each other’s faces. They seemed much too young to have been taken from their mother. Before we could get them to a vet the female died. Her brother was so sad: lingering by the box where she had slept during the day.

At the vet we heard that the male puppy had little chance of survival. He didn’t have Parvo thank God but he was critical. Someone I know (thank you thank you) offered to pay his medical bills if we wanted to do the arduous work of bringing this mange covered, worm infested lethargic little boy back to health. We decided to try. We lived in a small already crowded upstairs apartment. We had four cats already. (Not really on purpose). We thought we would find him a home if he lived. He was a Great Pyrenees cross so we couldn’t imagine how we would manage a dog who had the potential to grow to an 150 pound animal.

He did live. In fact he just ran down the hall chasing one of the cats. We love him. He’s a joy. He is also enormous for a five month old puppy.

That’s no problem; we have room for him now however big he gets because…. I bought a HOUSE!

Now this is something I thought I would never be able to do again. I had tried to let the idea go. About a year before my brother committed suicide I had just sold my paid for house to go live in one he was to build on his land. After his death all of the money from the sale of my house had gone missing. It had been stolen out of my bank account. I’ll never know what happened to it.

Out of the blue my father and my step mom offered to give me enough money for a down payment on a house. They reasoned that since my dad and I are only 17 years apart we were nearly contemporaries. So when they left me money in their wills, when they died, I would be pretty old too. They decided the money would do me more good now. They were right about that.

After all that has happened this gift from my parents to make things right as best they could changed EVERYTHING. I cannot begin to tell you how healing it has been for them to do this for me. It feels wonderful. It’s a great experience of righteousness and mercy and love. Thanks Dad and M. Forever thanks.

This task of house shopping was daunting for me. I’m terrible at dealing with business type stuff. And I had never had to get a mortgage before or shop for houses. After the death of my first husband I was offered a settlement that provides me with a modest monthly income since his seat belt ripped out of the car when he crashed, causing his death. The settlement comprises the majority of my income and my jobs fill out the rest. I don’t know what we would have done without it. After I received that settlement I simply bought the rental house we were living in already. I raised my children there over 22 years.

The first thing I did with the down payment was try to buy my old house back. After feeling displaced for eight years, often living at other people’s houses or in apartments that didn’t feel permanent, and with my stuff still in storage, just going home sounded good. I have often wished myself back over the years. But it wasn’t to be. The current owners were willing to sell but the foundation had such severe damage that fixing it would cost more than the worth of the house. I couldn’t afford that. It nearly broke my heart. But not for long. God must be calling me to build a new life after all the losses. (We lost four family members between 2012 and 2015; all of them tragic traumatic losses and life has been upside down for us ever since).

So we started looking and dreaming. Then one day we walked into the right house. I knew it even the first moment the realtor let us in through the hot dark garage. It was the smell. It smelled like our old house. Turns out it was built almost the same year. and in a similar style. My daughter said it had “the vibe” of our old house. It did.

She said as soon as she saw the adorable kitchen and the shiplap walls she knew I was going to want this one.

If you have ever bought a house you know what a wild and stressful journey it is. But we got the house. And we’re here. And I can’t tell you how grateful I am every day. It’s been over a month and I’m still walking around smiling at everything. My granddaughter has her own room. She can play outside now because for the first time in her life she has a back yard. My grandchildren can play in the sprinkler. My dog can bark outside.

It won’t be long before I fill my little patch of earth with antique roses just as I did my old yard; tangled in the trees, hanging down in graceful strands from the branches. I plan to get a few chickens again in the spring. I don’t even eat eggs. I just like having chickens around. I can give the eggs to others. (Unfertilized don’t worry)! They will be much better than store eggs. Happy chicken eggs are the best by far. And these will be very happy chickens!

I am always finding new things to appreciate about this place. We named it for my book: Casa Maria. “Mary’s House. “

Thats another thing. I’ve been working on Spanish all summer with my youngest daughter. We have an app for it and friends we can practice with. My granddaughter finds it annoying when we talk in Spanish at home. She is a nosey Parker and wants to know everything we say. She should learn Spanish too then we tell her, if she wants to understand.

Another cool thing that happened was my book won an award from the Catholic Publishers’ Association. YAY! Third place in the category of prayer.

AND Our Sunday Visitor would like me to write another book. Yay! So I am working on a new book proposal. That means I am making a possible outline, and writing a prospective introduction as well as some samples of what it would be like. They haven’t decided yet whether they are into my topic. That takes time, lots of time. Meanwhile I mull it over constantly, always writing in my head.

And here we are. Happy Mother Mary’s Birthday! I am reading at mass for the first time today, and at our new church! My parish has built a new gorgeous gorgeous church. That’s another good thing that happened this summer.

It’s really been a good summer. So good it’s kind of freaking me out.

As I leave you all four cats; Frankie, Annie, Dia and Buttercup, Joey the Great Pyrenees mix and my older daughter’s little brown (pit bull I think) puppy named Doo-dah are all asleep in my room. The blinds are closed now because it’s hot as a pistol outside. Hotter maybe. Still I’m having some coffee and listening to jazz and I go to work in a bit.

Grace and peace to you,

Shawn

P.S. Reading at mass went fine. 🙂 So yay.

P.P.S. It’s 108 outside today.

September 8, 2023 5

Mary of Bethany; an oil poured out

July 29 is the feast of Sts. Martha, Mary and Lazarus, the siblings of Bethany. Bethany was a little village not far from Jerusalem. It seems to have been Jesus’ favorite stop on his journeys, his home away from home. Apparently these three friends were great company, and supportive of his mission. They had a house big enough for his travel companions, the food was great and Martha, Mary and Lazarus were always eager to be caught up on the latest adventures of Jesus and his itinerant followers.

Martha and Lazarus’ sister Mary has been conflated with St. Mary Magdalene since the Middle Ages and this impression continued for centuries in Christian hagiography and art. Modern Biblical scholarship and a pronouncement of Pope Paul VI put an end to that mix up. St. Mary Magdalen continues to be celebrated on July 22, and Mary of Bethany joined her brother and sister as her own person.

This leaves us with three Gospel stories of St. Mary of Bethany.

At the feet of Jesus (Luke 10:38-42)

Poor Martha is hosting all by herself, running ragged, resentful and starting to bang the pots and pans in the kitchen. Finally she decides to get her feelings out. She unburdens her heart right to Jesus. Isn’t that what we should do? Maybe not in front of the company, granted, but we should lay out burdens before him and be honest with him. He knows what’s inside us anyway.

I like to think the Lord’s answer gave Martha peace. All the times Jesus has straightened me out when I was wrong or off course I have felt instant peace. Whether what he asked of me was easy or unpleasant I felt peace and that’s how I knew he was speaking. It seems Martha had taken on more than she was required to. I have taken on tasks and responsibilities God was not asking me to and the first symptom I have is usually exhaustion followed by resentment and self righteousness. Eventually there will be an outburst. I hope Martha felt unbound and freed by what Jesus said to her.

It’s easy to see Mary feeling affirmed and freed, protected and understood by Jesus’ defense of her. I recently read that the way she is sitting at Jesus’ feet listening to his teaching would have been controversial in her time and culture. It was something a disciple did. Rabbis weren’t supposed to have female disciples. The study of Torah and the pursuit of knowledge was for men only. By sitting at Jesus’ feet as his student she was being quite bold and acting as an equal to the men. Jesus affirms her in this, allowing her to keep the place she has chosen.

Of course we also see Mary of Bethany here as a beautiful model for Christian contemplatives. She is deeply attentive to Jesus, looking at his face, internalizing all that he says, pondering in her heart.

During a skit of this scene we acted out as a family my then four year-old daughter Maire had Mary get up, offer to take over the host duties, and invite Martha to take a turn at Jesus’ feet. I like that a lot. Maybe it was that way.

Mourning Lazarus John (11:1–45)

Lazarus fell ill. His sisters cared for him and prayed over him, waiting for Jesus to come and heal him. They knew he could save their brother. They sent an urgent message. Mary would have sat by her brother’s bed keeping vigil, offering him her gift of profound presence and connection. Martha would have changed his blankets, kept a wet rag on his head, brewed medicinal teas, asked advice from the wise, sent for doctors, made favorite dishes she hoped he would eat. Sometimes they would have had to switch places and learn the other one’s ways of loving and serving.

Jesus never comes, though they keep a lamp burning for him through every night in hopes he will. Every footfall outside, every stirring they hear they think perhaps it is Jesus or at least a message from him. They don’t understand. Why doesn’t he come? Why doesn’t he respond?

Lazarus’ illness becomes imminently life threatening, their anxiety for him so intense, neither of them sleeps at all. They hold him in his struggle for breath and as life ebbs away.

They try to comfort one another. They ask each other, “Why did Jesus never come?”

They wash and anoint his body with the women of their family winding him in scented burial cloths to bury him in their family tomb.

The house is full of family friends and neighbors sitting shiva with them. https://www.shiva.com/learning-center/sitting-shiva

Finally Jesus shows. Martha as we have seen her do before, makes her thoughts and feelings known to him. She confronts Jesus while at the same time expressing her faith in him. She knows he could have saved her brother as he has saved so many others. She also has come to know and believe he is the Messiah and Son of God, just as Peter had also done and she says so. “Even now,” Martha says hopefully, “I believe.”

She runs to get her sister who is in the house with all the mourners and tells her Jesus is here and asking for her.

It’s when Jesus sees Mary’s tears that he cries too. This is important to me, to all of us. Yes for some reason Jesus does allow bad things to happen to us. At the same time, as Madeleine Le’Engle says, everything that happens to us happens to God too.

Mary also confronts Jesus, falling at his feet, her movement a desperate plea of prostate grief.

He doesn’t ask Mary for a declaration of faith. Maybe he knew she had it in abundance already. He only responds with his tears and his actions. He gives her her brother back alive.

Anointing Jesus (John 12:1-8)

This is the beautiful story that captures the imagination so powerfully; Mary of Bethany interrupts dinner, unbinding her hair, carrying in an alabastron of outrageously expensive perfume worth a year’s wages.

Since she seems to have been unmarried (as she is living at home) perhaps it had been meant for her dowry. To me this brings out an extra meaning. Perhaps she intended never to marry and to fully dedicate her life to Jesus, pouring out her love and devotion to him alone.

Her contemplative nature, her attentiveness and connection to Jesus lead her to anticipate his death; the only one of his followers who understood that it was imminent, and maybe even what his death would mean.

With compassion she comes to acknowledge both what he is about to endure and what he means to her.

Have you ever smelled spikenard, aka nard? It is not a floral scent but a sharp, pungent smell. It would have filled the whole house and the scent would have lingered for days and days in every room and on both Jesus and on her hair.

The others at the table were offended at her extravagance, saying the nard could have been sold and used to feed the poor. Jesus defends her. We will always be able to help the poor but we would not always have him. “She has done a beautiful thing for me.” She dries his feet with her hair.

Women’s hair was supposed to be covered in public and especially in the presence of men who were not their husbands. Here our Mary of Bethany unveils and not only that dries the feet of Jesus with her hair. I wonder what those present would have made of that?

I’m thinking of the spiritual marriage written about and experienced by the great mystics of our faith such as Sts. Teresa of Avila, John of the Cross, Rose of Lima, Catherine of Sienna among others, in which the soul becomes one with God. Maybe Mary of Bethany was experiencing this or had. Maybe this bold and lavish gesture was her response, her understanding of his destiny born of that union and love.

Wouldn’t you love to be able to comfort Jesus with your compassion and love? To do something that is deeply meaningful for him? To pour out your love diffusing its fragrance through all his house, to smell it on your hair for days to remind you, knowing he also carried it? To remember his words, that you had done a beautiful thing for him?

We can. When we love, when we serve, when we pray like an oil poured out to the One we love.

Your anointing oils are fragrant;

your name is oil poured out;

therefore maidens love you.

Song of Songs 1:3

July 27, 2023 0

Our Lady of Guadalupe at the Walmart Memorial in El Paso

The shooter was sentenced to 99 life sentences this week.

Bethany Hang Out

Fifteen or more years ago I had a dream that is still vivid to me now. I was in a small, dimly lit church where the early arrivals were just sitting down before mass. Near the altar there was a large terra cotta colored relief of Our Lady of Guadalupe. I was standing in the aisle gazing at this rendering of Our Lady and it started to become beautifully colorful. A man in the pews to my right started complaining about the image and saying there were too many (*racial slur*) around here already and the image should be removed. He continued to complain about dark skinned people being in the church and “taking over.” I was extremely upset of course and started begging him not to say things like that especially in the church. As I continued to try to persuade him, the corner of Mary’s dress began to…

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July 9, 2023 2

Bethany Hang Out

Catholic contemplative life and devotion

A Christmas Rosary (The Joyful Mysteries)

The holidays without them

In her hearing

Texas, what the heck?

Triumph of the Cross

A ridiculous story

What I did this Summer

Mary of Bethany; an oil poured out

Our Lady of Guadalupe at the Walmart Memorial in El Paso

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