Paw Prints

"Each rising sun brings new hope because of God’s tender mercy." ~ Luke 1:78

During the night a blanket of snow fell across the midwestern plains, as Dori snoozed beneath woolen covers.  She stumbled to life as a warm, wet nose caressed her check, meaning of course, that Rebel need to relieve himself.

Racing to the door, she barely managing to get the puppy out.  As he tip-toed through the frosty landscape with urgent matters, Dori gazed into the white abyss laying silently across her yard.

Under a dove grey sky, the backyard resembled an unfinished painting; much of the canvas still flawlessly white.  Its purity elevated her spirit; a world made fresh as a book of new stories.

Rebel enjoyed everything about this day: the satisfaction of being the first to make an impression in a blanket of freshly lain snow, the subtle crunch underfoot as he frolicked among shafts of sunlight illuminating the winter scene before him.

In a matter of minutes, Dori’s snow (yes, HER snow), was quickly re-decorated; dotted and dimpled with paw prints and yellowed reminders of mother nature’s calls.  Dozens of circles zigzagged across the former glittery wonderland, its radiant beauty now vanished.  Her dreamscape gone forever.

Dori sighed.

But then, something occurred as memories sharpened into focus.  Perhaps those paw prints had meaning she hadn’t recognized.

Each of those ‘blemishes’ might represent mistakes from her own past.  Perhaps an unreturned phone call, maybe an un-mailed birthday card.  A forgotten lunch date, or a promise swept aside.

Bit by bit as she sipped a marsh-mellowed cup of cocoa, the fabric of her life unraveled.  She dug deeper into the past, pushing snow into the far corners of her mind, until she exposed the cold bare earth.  It was a frightening place.

She had to make things right - to become a better person; more positive, less judgmental.  “I must always be there for my friends,” she thought, “and family, neighbors … even strangers.”

The next morning, Dori bravely opened the front door to let her four-legged companion out, bracing herself for another cold blast.  Instead, a picture-perfect sight nearly stole her breath.

Once again, a fresh blanket of snow had fallen.  The tracks were gone, embellished with a new layer of glittering wonder.  The sunlight danced amongst the snowflakes, sending prisms of color shooting into the morning sky.

It was a new day.  A day to start fresh, along with that perfect layer of sparkling snow.  A new chance to be a better person.

We all have blemishes from our past, their yellowed pages long forgotten in our mind’s eye.  But like paw prints littering snow, we can learn from them, and our future will be better, and brighter, like the resplendent beauty that awaits us with each new sunrise.

Today Lord, I wish to lay down the burden of my shortcomings, and seek the courage to begin anew.  Help me understand that I’m not trapped in the past, but freed by Christ to live and grow today.  With gratitude, Amen

Flying Blind

“We live by faith, not by sight or feelings." ~ 2 Corinthians 5:7

Capt. Virgil Anderson was arrogant.  If he could do half the stuff he thought he could - maybe "confidence" would have been a better word.  It wasn't!

In his mind’s eye, he was superior to other pilots by virtue of his talent.  Twenty-two years of experience had taught him to rely mainly on the feel of the plane and his visual reference, rather than to trust the guidance of his instruments.

On the day he commanded United’s 737, the jetliner had been flying along normally when suddenly it began to experience all sorts of chaos.  It gyrated across the sky, plummeting thousands of feet at a time and turning violently to one side.  Two of the four engines stalled and failed, leaving the plane without the power it needed to maintain level flight.

Anderson responded instinctually, doing his best to right the course of the tumbling aircraft, while hundreds of passengers waited in abject terror, not knowing if they’d live or die.

At the time of the crash, the aircraft was flying about 1,000 feet above sea level in whiteout conditions – where the cloud-filtered sun reflected light from the snow, making it impossible to distinguish ground from air.  Without a visual point of reference, Anderson was easily fooled into thinking the plane was doing the opposite.

It flew into an icy mountainside, killing all aboard.

Investigators later determined that this tragedy had ultimately been the fault of the pilots.  They should have responded according to their flight training and according to the plane’s manual.  Instead, they relied on one fatal flaw - instinct.

Capt. Anderson, an experienced, well-trained pilot, had refused to trust his instruments, relying instead on his flawed assessment of the situation.  Even though he thought he saw the situation clearly, Anderson was in fact flying blind, refusing to heed the information conveyed by his instruments.

It cost him his life and the lives of hundreds of others.

The story offers a spiritual parallel.  When faced with the raging storm of uncertainty, we have a choice: trust our clouded perceptions or trust God’s Word.  We can trust our own feelings, or we can place our faith in the promises He made on Calvary, devotional prayer/Bible studies, and the wise counsel of Christian pastors and mentors.

It’s hard, and sometimes frightening.  But in the fog of life, our feelings will mock our faith and suggest that God has left us.  But His instruments will always reassure us that He’s still there, right beside us.

If you or a loved one is flying in a storm of desperation, remember our own perceptions, as real as they feel, are not reliable.  Fly instead, by the instruments God’s provided us.

Almighty Father, help me to trust my spiritual instruments - to follow Your will for my life and not let my feelings dictate what I do.  Help me set my mind to be a blessing to others and make right choices that honor You.  Amen

Father Figure

“To God be the glory forever and ever." ~ Philippians 4:20

He grew up the youngest of nine children in a broken home in Boston’s rough Dorchester section. By 13, he’d developed a serious addiction to cocaine among other illegal substances.

At just 14 years old, he dropped out of school, joined a cold-blooded gang, and began making his living on the streets - hustling, stealing, and dealing drugs.   With each passing day, his rebellious, anger-riddled, and destructive lifestyle mounted.

At 15 he faced civil action for his participation in two separate incidents of hurling rocks and racial slurs at African-American children.  He injured two of the students.

His chaotic life finally came to a crashing halt at 16, when he viciously attacked 2 Vietnamese men.  He sucker punched the first blinding him in one eye and beat the second man unconscious while shouting racial insults about 'slant-eyed gooks.'  For these crimes, he was charged with attempted murder, plead guilty to assault, and was sentenced to two years in prison.

He’d finally earned his stripes; locked up with the kind of guys he idolized.  Three of his brothers had already done time; his sister went to prison so many times he’d lost count.

Back on the streets after only 45 days, he quickly returned to peddling drugs.  But in the shadows, he was being watched - not by undercover cops, but by a fearless young priest.  The street punk stood speechless when the Padre got right in his face: ‘‘What the heck are you doing?”

Father Jim Flavin managed to get him off the street and onto a basketball team in the Catholic Church league.

The rest they say “is history!”

When he stood at the podium in 2007 accepting an Oscar for his supporting role in “The Departed,” Mark Wahlberg (aka rapper Marky Mark), fought back tears describing how the charismatic priest rescued him from a criminal trajectory.

‘‘Where we grew up, we mostly looked for the wrong role models in the wrong places.  It took me far too long to realize that the real heroes were there all the time.  Rev. Flavin helped us realize who the real heroes are.  He’s my hero, my mentor, my friend, my brother.  I have the greatest respect and debt to him; he married us and baptized all my children.”

Today Mark Wahlberg enjoys enormous success on both the big and small screens as model, actor and producer.  He’s packed away the demons of old and boasts a growing family, with his Catholic faith acting as a pivotal force in reshaping what had threatened to become a troubled adult life.

He’s never bashful about his faith, “I never would’ve been able to change my life and have the success and love that I have in my world today without my faith.”

“Lord, help me be a good servant, father, husband, son, friend, brother, uncle, neighbor, good leader to those who look up to me and a good follower of those who aim to serve You.“ ~ Mark Wahlberg

How Great Thou Art

“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you." ~ Isaiah 43:2

Jason awoke early for a peaceful walk along the Caribbean coastline.  The ocean had always been his remedy for relieving tension, worry, and anxiety.

Its shore marked a graceful arc in the sand, glittering under the remains of a moonlit sky.  With a soothing sound, the waves rolled in a brief burst of kelp.  Every few meters he discovered a briny treasure, once the habitat for some aquatic creature - footprints they left behind soon erased.

From the sandy shore, he gazed out at the horizon before him.  Waves of a royal blue crept towards him and then ran away, only to repeat the process in a cycle that left a salty mist on his feet.  But beyond those magical waves was something even more breathtaking and spectacular: the rising sun.

Beautiful smudges of coral, lavender, and a fiery orange blended together to create a sight so astounding it swept away all his worries, just like the waves creeping over seashells and stealing them back into its depths.

He inhaled deeply as the sunlight poured over him, allowing his mind to focus on the ocean’s energy.  It cleansed him from head to toe; from the inside out.  Negativity and fear escaped like the outgoing tide.

When he imagined its healing power, he pictured countless others who must feel the same way - surfers, divers, swimmers, and children grinning from ear to ear.  The ocean serves as medicine for so many.

Its power is immeasurable.  We’ve learned to travel over the mighty oceans, to descend to the bottom of them, and to travel through them - but the relentless force of their waves remain untamable.  Rocks are crushed, shorelines are changed, and even the most experienced sailors can be driven aground or sent to their bottoms.  Man’s combined genius and equipment can do little to conquer the oceans.

They’re no problem for God, however.  The One who created the mighty oceans does with them what He wishes.  And when the turbulent seas of adversity are threatening, we need to remember His awesome power.

Sometimes there are obstacles that seem overwhelming to us.  But like the seas, they have no more resistance to God’s power than water in a teacup!

So how do you tune into the ocean’s healing energy when you’re hundreds of miles from the sea?  Luckily you don’t need anything other than your intention, a willingness to look within, and the openness for this experience.

God’s love is like that.  It's refreshing, powerful, and a little terrifying at times.  But all you need to experience His love and healing grace is the desire to walk closely with Him, a willingness to confess your sinfulness, and a sincerity to communicate with Him daily.

“Dear God, Your ocean is so wide and my boat is so small; the winds are so strong - my sail so slight; and the world so fierce and I’m so frail.  Please watch over me, Amen.”                ~ Winfred Ernest Garrison

Two Apples

“Do not judge, or you too will be judged." ~ Matthew 7:1

Playful and sometimes a bit mischievous, Allis was a handful!  Her dark brown eyes were filled with vitality and self-assurance.  Reddish brown pigtails added to an overall impish appearance.  Snuggles and smiles had long since been traded for tantrums and egocentrism.   Today was one such case in point.

Allis and her Mom (Beth) enjoyed some quiet time in the tall grass beneath a cloudless, azure sky. The scent from pink, creamy apple blossoms permeated their senses; an aroma not missed by the peaceful humming of bees sipping the nectar, gathering pollen.  Nature provides such a wonderful backdrop Beth thought.

Allis spied a magnificent apple tree with emerald green leaves; it’s luscious, red apples waiting to be savored.   “Mommy, can I go pick some,” she pleaded.

“Of course, honey,” Beth replied.  “Just watch out for soft spots and worms, ok?”

Allis nodded and scampered off, anxious to find the perfect fruit.  But only a meter tall, she’d have to rely on those that had recently fallen off swollen limbs.

She picked one up; its skin was firm and smooth.  Without biting, she knew instinctively that on the other side of that rich, red skin was crisp white flesh.

Soon she located an almost identical one and lifted it from the ground to drink in the sweet scent.  Before her teeth broke its delicate skin, she pulled it away from her mouth and stared at it again.

Apple peels were works of art - perfect blends of red and yellow in patterns a human hand could never paint.  Such a natural treat.  They didn't shine since they were absent a wax coating.  Home grown, no chemicals, no trucking between states, just fruit right off the tree.

Pleased with her discoveries, Allis scurried back to her mother with a beautiful prize in each hand.

“My love,” Beth asked eagerly, “did you bring one of those apples for me?”

The girl looked up at her mother grinning briefly before taking a bite from one apple … and then the other.

The smile on Beth’s face froze trying hard to conceal her displeasure.  What had she done wrong in raising such a selfish child?  And how could she ‘unspoil’ her ungrateful kid?

Then Allis handed one of her bitten apples to Beth.  “Here you are Mommy, this is the sweeter one,” she said.

Despite our best efforts, we all judge others.  It might be over small things, like a co-worker who took too long of a lunch break.  Or it might be over bigger issues, such as a person who hurts our feelings.  No matter, it’s always wise to delay judgment, to give others the benefit of the doubt and the opportunity to explain themselves.

Father, help us to be mindful that it’s not our place to judge others.  We are no better than they are.  Help us to trust in Your almighty plan and the power of Your love to capture hearts and transform others.  Amen

A Winter's Day

“Truly the sun’s light is sweet; pleasant for the eyes to behold!  ~ Ecclesiastes 11:7

Michigan winters are often defined in various shades of grey.  That is, at least until its Great Lake traps it’s vast waters beneath a solid ice sheet, allowing the sun to shine on occasion.

But despite the dismal, dreary sky, Yulia loved her morning walks along the naked trees lining the Paint Creek Trail.  It allowed time for brisk exercise, prayerful contemplation, and of course, the companionship of her faithful friend Bella.

A frigid, misty rain was falling today.  The air clung like frozen lace on her skin, delicate and cold, like winter waves on shallow sand.  As they trekked through fresh, crisp snow, Bella’s puppy breath rose in visible puffs.  She too loved the outdoors.

Having moved from somewhere much warmer and sunnier, Yulia found it hard to keep her energy or spirits up as she walked along.  The weather forecast said it might be days before they would see the sun again.

Her body craved the sunlight that converts the vitamin D that naturally boosts serotonin levels.  Adequate serotonin directly affects healthier moods - which may explain why she always felt revitalized and happier when spring arrives.

Suddenly Bella barked and ran ahead a few dozen paces.  There she sat patiently waiting for Yulia to join her.  A tiny break in the clouds had appeared and a sunbeam shot through them, shining directly onto Bella’s coat.

Yulia hurried to join Bella, letting the sun’s warmth embrace her like an old friend.  It felt as if God leaned down from Heaven and planted a tender kiss on her forehead.  After weeks without it, she was surprised by the heat in its rays.  No longer did it leach enjoyment from her body, but instead, returned it tenfold.

She let it wash over her, rekindling a fire in her soul; reminding her that the sun always shines behind the clouds.  It was also a cheerful reminder that God’s love is always there even on the darkest of days.

The break in the clouds lasted only a minute more.  But the light Yulia took in from it stayed with her for the rest of the day.

Sometimes we all need a little light to keep us going when the world seems dark.  Sometimes we all need a little reminder of God’s love for us to keep us strong and shining bright.  And sometimes we need to be that light ourselves.

The next time then that this world seems dim and gray - be the light that makes it bright once again.  Share your love, your warmth, and your smile.  Give your goodness, your kindness, and your joy.  Break through the clouds and let God’s light shine through you.

Gracious and loving God, Your rays embrace the earth.  Help us to seek Your brilliance and warmth in good times as well as bad. Help us to always be mindful that You are our sure hope in a world that doesn’t always seem to care.  Amen

Superheroes

“For you know that when your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow." ~ James 1:3

Their infant son Louie has a life-threatening illness.  But this story isn’t about him.  His fate lies with the healing touch of a God who loves him deeply.

Nor is it about the medical professionals who take care of these little angels.  They are heroes, of course.

But it’s the parents who are the superheroes.  They use every weapon to fight because their children need them to.  They keep going because if they don’t, who will?

I’ve never actually met little Louie, but when I read the Facebook updates about him, it’s easy to feel the enormous, self-sacrificing love that surrounds him.  I envision bright, encouraging smiles on their faces as they sit by their son’s bed, praying for miracles.

Parents with hearts like stained-glass windows.  Those windows are made of broken glass which when forged back together, are even stronger and more beautiful for having been broken.

Parents who care of seriously ill children don’t have the same luxuries the rest of us have.  Every parent carries similar nagging fears: What if something happens to my child?  Will I be able to give them all the things they need to live a happy, healthy life?  How can I help them realize their full potential?  It comes back to one question: Am I enough?

But parents with healthy children can to put those fears on the back burner.  We don’t often have to look that terrifying monster in the eye and face reality.  But, for Louie’s parents, that’s a luxury they can’t afford.  They hold onto frail little hands and face the monster head on.   Their pain is deep, but their joy runs deeper.  Such selfless courage and boundless faith humbles me.

It wouldn’t surprise me if Louie clings to life - as his own gift to the parents he loves, savoring every moment with his family for their sake, as well as for his own.

For the rest of us who look at these parents and think, “I don’t know how they do it,” know this: It’s not their abilities that are superhuman.  It’s their extraordinary love, the intensity of which pushes them out of bed every morning and forces them to keep going, no matter the odds.

I suspect if I spoke with them face to face, they’d say something like: “Please don't feel sorry for us.  Love us, support us, talk to us and pray for us.  Louie is perfect!  He’s never hurt anyone; he only seeks loves and creates it.  We mourn for a world that sees only flaws.  Suffering helps us all experience joy.  Whatever brings you closer to God is a blessing.”

Father God, please bless Louie’s parents and all who love him.  Shower them with Your comfort and strength to sustain them as they care for this sweet child.  May they trust in You, Lord.  Give them the hope, faith, and skill to help nurse young Louie back to full heath, Amen.

Amazing Gracie

“Out of the fullness of His grace He blesses us all." ~ John 1:16

For first responders, there’s no such thing as a normal day on the job.  From saving families from burning houses to aiding the victims of car crashes, they adapt to whatever the situation.  But it was a cool, fall evening when Darren got the call that would change his life forever.

It came from a woman in distress - severe abdominal pain.  When Darren and the other firefighters arrived on scene, they quickly realized the young woman was in labor.  Though her belly was large, the girl was dreadfully undernourished.

Darren immediately started an IV and placed the mother on oxygen.  As the ambulance prepared to leave, the baby was crowning.  Without much effort, it slid into Darren’s hands.  His heart jumped into his throat as his brain registered the meaning of what had just happened.

Their eyes met as they stared blissfully at each other, alone in space.  Her newborn smile was as sweet as ripe peaches.  Tiny fingers curled around his pinky.  She seemed oddly content despite what must have been such a strange world after life in the womb.

The siren jolted him out of his daydream.  They called for backup and rushed to the hospital with mother and child.

While filling out routine paperwork at the hospital, Darren learned that the homeless mom planned to put the infant up for adoption.  It must have been an answer to their prayers.

They’d been trying (unsuccessfully) for a third child and were considering adoption.  Now it was in God’s hands.  “If it’s meant to be, it’ll be!”

He walked into the woman’s hospital room and introduced himself.  Darren explained that he had two kids, his wife was a school teacher and they wanted more children, but weren’t able to.  After a friendly chat, he swung by the nursery and sent his wife a picture of the sweet little girl.

She jokingly texted back, “Can we keep her?”  Darren knew his wife wasn’t kidding.

The next day, the whole family visited the mother in the hospital.  She was old well beyond her youth and paying the price.  She appeared frail, exhausted, and alone.

The adult conversation went well – but it was Darren’s boys who closed the deal; they absolutely loved her and couldn’t wait to make the beautiful baby girl the newest addition to their family.

Terrified of returning to the streets with a child she could not feed, clothe or care for adequately, the mother readily agreed to the adoption.

The family named their baby girl Grace ; she’d go by Gracie.  They knew the adoption was a gift from God – having placed the fate of their family growing by another in His precious hands.  And He grace-fully delivered on that prayer.

Blessed Lord, thank You for all that you’ve done for us today.  Thank You for the splendor of Your whole creation, for the beauty of this world, for the miracle of life, and for the mystery of love.  Amen

Stories for My Back Pocket

“Fight the good fight, finish the race, keep the faith." ~ 2 Timothy 4:7

It was an economic downturn that threw Mateo and his family off track.  Earlier that spring and typically a busy time for construction work, he sat home for weeks without any jobs lined up.  That had never happened in all the years he’d been an independent contractor.  Hard times were coming.

He tried desperately to find steady job with a construction company but by then, no one was hiring. They no longer had the extra income needed to support his wife’s fledgling bookkeeping business.  That went under too.

He filed for bankruptcy, his house was foreclosed on and his car repossessed.  Unemployed for the first time in his life, 42 year-old Mateo had lost everything.

He was broken; shattered really.  His heart beat without purpose; his mind desperate for some reason to live.  Any notion of hope quickly vanished like a desert mirage.

Eventually he landed a job as a night custodian at the local college.  The pay cut bled clear to the proverbial bone and the work triggered little satisfaction.  But the college offered free tuition.  So while his college classmates were in the library studying together at night, Mateo was buffing floors and picking up their trash.

He did schoolwork early in the mornings and after class in the afternoons before he started his 3 to 11 shift.  He rarely saw his wife, who’d gone back to school as well to get a teaching degree.  She worked days, he worked nights.  And when he was home he was studying.

Initially, Mateo took classes just to occupy his mind and keep despair from coagulating in his veins.  After completing the basic coursework, he set his sights on an undergraduate degree.  The thought energized him.  Others noticed a buoyancy in his step that hadn’t been there before.

Nearly a decade after his life unraveled, Mateo graduated with a B.S. degree in Mechanical Engineering.  As he walked (more like strutted) across the stage to accept his diploma, the crowd exploded in applause for him.

It had taken more than a decade to get his degree.  It took him less than a month to land a dream job (while continuing his custodial chores, of course).  He never lost hope.

Friends, as we ponder our New Year’s Resolution, let’s be honest.  Few of us really want things to be completely different.  We just want life to get better, or easier.  We can handle a tune-up or face-lift, but drastic change?  Medication, yes; surgery, no.

So my resolution for 2018 is to tuck stories like this one into my back pocket, and when I’m upset or feeling down on my luck, I resolve to pull these out and re-read them for inspiration.  Then I’ll look up … and trust the One who holds my future.

Friends - may this new year be a time of deep spiritual growth, a time of welcoming the Lord’s graces and gifts, a time for forgiving freely and unconditionally, a time for growing.  Best Wishes for 2018!

Yuletide Memories

“Glory to God in the highest, and peace to all people." ~ Luke 2:4

Christmas – a time of faith, hope, love and great memories.  As I sat quietly listening to our Pastor’s sermon, I closed my eyes and felt my eyes tear up allowing a flood of childhood, Christmas memories to wash over me.  Crying is sometimes how I understand myself best.

We were certainly not a wealthy family.  Yet, we were so rich in all life’s important things.

I remembered getting up on a bitingly cold, December morning and pulling on my oversized winter coat before heading outside with my Dad and brother to chop down a Christmas tree.  We usually picked a tree whose limbs could barely support the ornaments and lights when we decorated it.

Mom was in charge of setting up the ceramic nativity scene she’d hand crafted, with such respect and tenderness.  She’d always kiss the baby Jesus before setting it aside until Christmas Eve.

Mom sang along with the Christmas carols on the radio while she decorated the house.  I remember the peaceful look on her face whenever she sang, "Silent Night."

Christmas Eve dinner featured pastrami on rye with oyster (or potato) soup and freshly baked bread.  Dad placed a note for Santa on our front door so that he wouldn’t skip our empty house while we were at midnight Mass.

The service was a collection of singing, readings (in Latin), and a dual message: to praise God for sending His Son to earth, and to emphasize our responsibility to love one another.  I tried staying awake for the whole mass, but often fell asleep on Mom’s lap.

I remembered the eager anticipation of waiting to open my presents on Christmas morning.  They were few in number and never very expensive, but they always brought great joy to my heart.  I played with them for months and sometimes years to come.

Most of all, though, I remembered the unwavering love in that house.  It made every day feel like Christmas.  It was there in our hugs and smiles, laughter and tears, arguments and agreements, triumphs and tragedies.  Even when we moved from Webster Street, love followed us.  It gave me a hint of the love that God has for us all.  With it we felt like the wealthiest family on earth.

Christmas season is a special time of year.  It’s a time to connect with each member of your family, and create memories and traditions that your family and kids will remember when they’re older. Creating memories as a family also gives your children a secure foundation and understanding of their identity in the family and the importance of Christ’s birth.

May your life be full of loving memories at this Christmas and always.  And may you create new ones every single day.  Have a Blessed Christmas.

“This Christmas may you have … hot drinks by the fire, laughter to cheer you, and those you love near you, and all that your heart may desire.”  Amen  ~ Old Irish Prayer