What a week! Two celebrity icons pass away on the same day. Two journeys come to an end. Two lives so similar and so different. Two very clear messages.
Farrah spent most of her life celebrating and marketing her God given gift of beauty. She didn't just rest on the bank ability of her looks. She learned acting. She created works of art. She lived and loved. Just when you may have thought this was her life's journey, she is thrown a loop by being diagnosed with cancer. Instead of opting to privately endure her battle, she invited the cameras in to document the suffering that goes with it. So many of us have experienced a loved one fighting cancer, but when a celebrity brings it to a headline, it makes us more aware of what so many are going through. I think Farrah's true mission was to remind us that everyone feels pain, loss, and faces death, no matter who they are. Farrah lived as an icon, but died as the real, fragile human being that she was. The pretty facade hid a strong will and life with purpose.
Michael Jackson was raised in the spotlight. Constantly under the microscope, he spent his journey seeking privacy and a childhood he never had, while using his God given talent to fill the world with music and entertainment. Constantly re-inventing himself, he was the comeback king. But, like Peter Pan, he never seemed to grow up. He never wanted to. I can't help to wonder what he would have been like had he "put away such childish things" and embraced adulthood. A lot different, but I'm not sure he would have had to worry about things like tabloids and paparazzi. His masks drew more attention then deflected. But a child wouldn't know any better. Normally our childhood ends and we mature with what we learned as children. Michael never let it end. And now he leaves the world unfinished by choice. It kind of makes you appreciate being an adult.
From the ends of these two journeys, we are reminded that our journey too will end. Probably when we least expect it. Are we ready? Can we face God knowing we gave of what he asked of us to others? That we led others to Him through example and words? That we represented Him through our actions and our heart? If He ends our journey tomorrow, have we packed and prepared today?
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Sunday, June 21, 2009
A Father to Emulate
I seem to get all of the sensible things I pray for. I remember, about twenty years ago, praying for patience. I prayed for years to be more understanding that things take time and to be able to enjoy the time it takes. Before I knew it I was hearing people say "I wish I had your patience".
Prayer answered.
I am praying for a lot of things these days. A job. Focus. Eyes to see where I can use this time to help others. Strength to carry the burdens of others for a while to give them a break. I reach out to one saint who seems to be the role model for achieving all of these. My patron Saint, St. Joseph.
St. Joseph must have been a very patient and content man. He kept his family safe, fed, sheltered and protected them from straying from their faith. As I moved my life more in line with my patron, I realized how much my own father is like St. Joseph.
You really don't get to appreciate the sacrifices of your parents until you can see their journey through adult eyes. To steer your life through difficult times and still keep your focus on God's big picture. What appeared to be an idyllic time for me as a child, turned out to be the result of my Dad putting in long hours at work during a bad economy, giving up personal needs and wants so us kids could have a little extra, and loving parents who made sure we all made it to church on Sunday to give thanks for all of our blessings.
Now, as we are all grown, Dad still keeps us focused. Losing Mom so suddenly, was devastating for us all, but for Dad it was also the loss of his best friend. But in true form, Dad has once again steered us through a difficult time. And I am sure we helped him also. Grief is a process that nurtures growth out of the darkness. And out of the darkness, we have once again grown as a family.
When I was a kid I remember putting my little feet into Dad's shoes, trying to imagine that some day I would fit into them. Those shoes still seem so much bigger than my feet will ever be. My feet are still figuratively growing as I continue to find my way down God's path. But Dad gave me a pretty clear map to follow my journey of life.
Happy Father's Day Dad!
Prayer answered.
I am praying for a lot of things these days. A job. Focus. Eyes to see where I can use this time to help others. Strength to carry the burdens of others for a while to give them a break. I reach out to one saint who seems to be the role model for achieving all of these. My patron Saint, St. Joseph.
St. Joseph must have been a very patient and content man. He kept his family safe, fed, sheltered and protected them from straying from their faith. As I moved my life more in line with my patron, I realized how much my own father is like St. Joseph.
You really don't get to appreciate the sacrifices of your parents until you can see their journey through adult eyes. To steer your life through difficult times and still keep your focus on God's big picture. What appeared to be an idyllic time for me as a child, turned out to be the result of my Dad putting in long hours at work during a bad economy, giving up personal needs and wants so us kids could have a little extra, and loving parents who made sure we all made it to church on Sunday to give thanks for all of our blessings.
Now, as we are all grown, Dad still keeps us focused. Losing Mom so suddenly, was devastating for us all, but for Dad it was also the loss of his best friend. But in true form, Dad has once again steered us through a difficult time. And I am sure we helped him also. Grief is a process that nurtures growth out of the darkness. And out of the darkness, we have once again grown as a family.
When I was a kid I remember putting my little feet into Dad's shoes, trying to imagine that some day I would fit into them. Those shoes still seem so much bigger than my feet will ever be. My feet are still figuratively growing as I continue to find my way down God's path. But Dad gave me a pretty clear map to follow my journey of life.
Happy Father's Day Dad!
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Strong Roots and Many Blooms
That is how I describe my family tree.
Over a century ago my ancestors brought their European ways and religious values, packed in their tattered trunks and suitcases and came in search of a better life. Leaving behind the oppression that kept their quality of life at the standard chosen by the Emperor, Czar, King etc.
Faith brought them here. They had no idea of what they would experience. The first disappointment was that the streets were NOT paved with gold and that immigrants were immediately placed at the bottom of society. But freedom was worth the climb. And as far as I know, none of them moved back to Europe. Or wanted to.
It is here where they began to build families, communities and churches. The faith that sustained them on their ocean voyage was honored by the building of so many beautiful churches. Many, still home to their ethnic community. They struggled to survive difficult times, but always made time for prayer and devotion and to give thanks to God.
These strong roots are what anchors my mighty oak of a family tree. I am but a gardener. My job is to water, to add fertilizer (sometimes a little too much) and to make sure the blossoms are enjoyed by one and all. Our tree is rooted in the journey of our ancestors and it's branches reach upward toward the heavens in hopes of one day touching the hand of God. The leaves that grow through their cycle of life, then die and fall, become the mulch that keeps our tree growing through the cold, dark winters. New buds of life grow in the shadow of firm, older branches.
I am but one of a long list of caretakers to this tree of life. And I do not work alone. Our tree does not stand strong and tall just by chance. It is a result of years of cultivation, of weathering many storms, and the nourishment and freedom to grow in the land where it was planted.
Over a century ago my ancestors brought their European ways and religious values, packed in their tattered trunks and suitcases and came in search of a better life. Leaving behind the oppression that kept their quality of life at the standard chosen by the Emperor, Czar, King etc.
Faith brought them here. They had no idea of what they would experience. The first disappointment was that the streets were NOT paved with gold and that immigrants were immediately placed at the bottom of society. But freedom was worth the climb. And as far as I know, none of them moved back to Europe. Or wanted to.
It is here where they began to build families, communities and churches. The faith that sustained them on their ocean voyage was honored by the building of so many beautiful churches. Many, still home to their ethnic community. They struggled to survive difficult times, but always made time for prayer and devotion and to give thanks to God.
These strong roots are what anchors my mighty oak of a family tree. I am but a gardener. My job is to water, to add fertilizer (sometimes a little too much) and to make sure the blossoms are enjoyed by one and all. Our tree is rooted in the journey of our ancestors and it's branches reach upward toward the heavens in hopes of one day touching the hand of God. The leaves that grow through their cycle of life, then die and fall, become the mulch that keeps our tree growing through the cold, dark winters. New buds of life grow in the shadow of firm, older branches.
I am but one of a long list of caretakers to this tree of life. And I do not work alone. Our tree does not stand strong and tall just by chance. It is a result of years of cultivation, of weathering many storms, and the nourishment and freedom to grow in the land where it was planted.
Friday, June 5, 2009
The Art of Faith
When I look at the Pieta I am awestruck at the emotion in the image of Mary holding her dead son. The love, pain and numbness. Michelangelo sculpted not only with his hands but with his heart.
The Pieta has always been a favorite of mine. Perhaps because my parents and grandparents each experienced the death a child. Or perhaps it is the reminder that life is a circle. We see the blessed virgin looking down at her helpless son much like she did in the manger in Bethlehem, as an extension of God and his love for humanity. Only now there is also loss. One must imagine that Mary was at that point experiencing the most difficult test of her faith. She had to believe that this end was merely the beginning. While she knew the big picture the message of Christ was bringing, she was a mother. And Michelangelo's masterpiece shows no shining halos, no hovering angels, just a mother grieving her son.
It is the human side of Christianity that often gets lost. The Pieta reminds us of that. We can go into any church and see the statues and paintings of saints with golden halos and symbols of their life's work. They look confidant and serene. But it's the side we don't see that we need to guide us on our journey. The sainted figures most often lived conflicted lives, often leaving a faith they were born into to preach Christianity. And the consequences were torture and execution.
We need to remind ourselves that those stone edifices standing on their pedestals that seem so out of reach were once people just like you and I who chose to listen to God's call and were empowered by their faith to bring others closer to God and put them on a path to heaven. We can choose to do the same. And we have the advantage of the Internet to do it!
The Pieta has always been a favorite of mine. Perhaps because my parents and grandparents each experienced the death a child. Or perhaps it is the reminder that life is a circle. We see the blessed virgin looking down at her helpless son much like she did in the manger in Bethlehem, as an extension of God and his love for humanity. Only now there is also loss. One must imagine that Mary was at that point experiencing the most difficult test of her faith. She had to believe that this end was merely the beginning. While she knew the big picture the message of Christ was bringing, she was a mother. And Michelangelo's masterpiece shows no shining halos, no hovering angels, just a mother grieving her son.
It is the human side of Christianity that often gets lost. The Pieta reminds us of that. We can go into any church and see the statues and paintings of saints with golden halos and symbols of their life's work. They look confidant and serene. But it's the side we don't see that we need to guide us on our journey. The sainted figures most often lived conflicted lives, often leaving a faith they were born into to preach Christianity. And the consequences were torture and execution.
We need to remind ourselves that those stone edifices standing on their pedestals that seem so out of reach were once people just like you and I who chose to listen to God's call and were empowered by their faith to bring others closer to God and put them on a path to heaven. We can choose to do the same. And we have the advantage of the Internet to do it!
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