I started a new routine this week, of rising at 4 a.m. to stretch and make coffee, then sitting down to write before the family rises to start the day. Getting up each day has gone well, stretching has been adequate, and coffee is always good. But the last thing I wrote for public consumption was Monday’s post, which in truth I wrote over the weekend.
Three days with no posts. Yesterday I found myself melancholy in mood and frustrated in prayer. I am doing exactly what I set out to do: putting my experience and gifts to work for the church. I have freedom, flexibility, and just enough money. So why, when I am free to write, do I have so little to share?
This morning, I sat down to pray before writing. Once again, my initial thought was that I have nothing to say. But as I prayed, I noticed something that put the fear of God in me—and, providentially, provided me a topic.
This blog will be quiet for the next few days. My two older sons and I are headed to Demontreville to make a silent retreat.
Yesterday was my fortieth day without steady work. Forty days in the desert, hungry and tempted to turn back. But I chose to follow this path. I have such sympathy now for those who are without work by no choice of their own, whose families go without because they can’t find a job.
I see this retreat as an oasis from the bustle and worry of the past six weeks that I’ve been seeking employment. I’m looking forward to solitude, rest, and time alone with God.
I will be praying for you in the silence of these next few days. If you pray for me, pray that I might find the way to abandon myself entirely to God’s will and the courage to follow it. Pray that Jodi be lifted up and loved and given peace during this uncertain time. Pray that our children continue to grow in virtue and holiness and stay open to God’s vocation for them. Pray that we all become saints and rejoice together in heaven.
See you next week!
“No one can serve two masters. He will either hate one and love the other, or be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and mammon.” — Matthew 6:24
I caught myself in a lie the other day. Over the past few weeks, I’ve told this lie to many others, but most frequently to myself. Stop me if you’ve heard this before: “I’m glad I made the decision to leave my job at the parish, but I still need to find steady work.”
I’ve uttered that statement or variations of it countless times in the past month. It is only half true—and the other half, I am realizing, is a lie straight from the serpent’s tongue. Continue reading
This morning I finished Matthew Kelly‘s 2016 book Resisting Happiness. I opened this book several weeks ago while staying at a friend’s, after reading the cover blurb: “A true story about why we sabotage ourselves, set aside our dreams, and lack the courage to simply be ourselves…and how to start choosing happiness again.”
It seemed relevant.
Although his books are very popular in our local parish and in the Church more broadly, this is my first cover-to-cover reading and mini-review of a Matthew Kelly book. Resisting Happiness was clear and concise, personal and practical, naming and describing dozens of little things we do that keep us comfortably stagnant and offering simple ideas on how to overcome those tendencies and start living intentionally for God. Continue reading
“Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light.” — Matthew 11:29-30
A few Sundays back, we had a guest priest, Fr. Tony Dummer from the Christ the King Retreat Center in Buffalo. The gospel reading was from Matthew chapter 11, and Fr. Tony recalled growing up on a farm in Oregon and using a team of horses for certain jobs. He said that one of the remarkable things about draft animals working together as a team is that two horses or oxen do not move twice as much, but several times the weight that one can. Continue reading