My Lent 2017 Plan

I love coffee.  Every morning I need it to fuel.  I think this dependency began when I started working in an office setting.  As I walked my dog early Sunday morning, I was thinking that before RCIA class I would make my usual stop at Starbucks before heading to the parish.  I was also thinking that Lent begins this week and the popular Catholic thought this time of year, "what will I be giving up," was begging me for an answer.  I arrived to class a bit early and while setting up my friend reminded me that it’s time for the CRS Rice Bowl Lenten collection, which we annually encourage our students to do as an attempt to give them an example opportunity for a charitable practice. That's when I had a eureka moment and decided that this year I would lead by example and give up coffee using the money I save to donate to my CRS Rice Bowl.  Such a small financial change for me will enable four families to three months of clean water, supply a farmer with two years of seeds, and provide a family with a one month supply of food.  What it will do to me physically won't be as positive, but this is the time to teach my soul that it’s  more powerful than my body (smile). 

For more information click link: Catholic Rice Bowl A Catholic Program for Lent

In the Catholic faith we have prayers that are popular during specific times of the year, during Lent one of my favorite forms is extremely favored: the Stations of the Cross.  Thus, I decided that for my Lenten practice I will spend some time daily praying the Via Crucis and on Friday join my local parish to pray them in community.  In RCIA we have this tradition of taking our students to the beach and setting up the way of the cross to pray interactively while the sun sets. We usually do this activity on Good Friday and do not pray the last station, but give them the night to meditate letting them know that the next day when they celebrate their sacraments we will be living the station of the resurrection. It's quite a moving experience, one of my favorites each year. 

This year I would also like to attend a reenactment of the passion, which is very much part of our Mexican culture. Here I must share that when I was a child in my pueblo we had very realistic portrayals every year that drew the entire town to the plaza.  I couldn’t handle the gruesomeness of the Via Crucis; thus, as an adult I have never attended one.  This year I am hoping that after praying with him daily, I will be able to join my RCIA team in attending our annual Way of the Cross Reenactment for my first time since I left Michoacán. Am not sure if you ever feel your Spirit inclined to a certain form or type of prayer recently I have been craving very intimately to accompany Christ on his was to the cross.

Also, this Lent I want to continue my forty days of Thank You notes for priests, deacons and religious.  Last year it was such a great experience that I am thinking this will become a Lenten tradition.  All those times that I told myself I would send a note to thank my priest (but I later forgot), well this is the time I bring to mind all those wonderful blessings and show my appreciation.  Now I did share how many thank you back replies I received from the many I sent; but, I assure you that my thank you's are not driven by selfish motives (smile). I am really looking forward to this new season and the new practices combined with some of my old ones in opening my life more to God and His will.

My Home Altar: Paschal Candle, anointing oil, rosary, prayer guides, journal, images of Jesus, 

cross of nails, flowers and my rice bowl.  

Three Things That Always Make Me Feel Better with Others

In continuing with yesterday’s post about things that refresh my soul, but this time in community with others. Girlfriends, all women need a good set of girls for comfort, support and relation.  I have been blessed with many great women who challenge, encourage and accept me.  When I am feeling down (though I usually would rather be alone) making the effort to interact with my besties always nourishes my soul.  This past weekend I got to enjoy some time with my girls (who are my family) and though they are not Christian spending time with them always lifts my spirit.  I mentioned that they are not Christian because for a while I thought my Catholic conversion would affect my non-Christian relationships.  Many told me that after they became Christian they just didn’t have anything in common with their previous relationships and terminated those bonds.  I am not going to lie some of our views are very different, but our love for one another is greater.  This past weekend I got to unload with them all the stresses I have been experiencing and they listened and lifted my spirits making great jokes about my silly worries.  They stuffed me with good homemade food and sent me away full both in body and spirit.

Novenas.  I love praying novenas with my friends.  Now getting together for nine days to pray is not possible – coordinating schedules and the distance we live from one another makes it quite difficult.  However, thanks to social media I am able to pray with them virtually.  The first Ave Maria cruise I went on I met two girls that have been referred to on this blog as my cruise angels.  Since, that first cruise we have been praying novenas together even though I live in California, one lives in Houston and the other in Guadalajara.  I think I was going through some crisis and I asked them if they would pray for me and Guadalajara suggested we pray a novena together and thus our prayer group was born.  Just last week we finished a Novena to Saint Faustina!

Mom, she always pokes her head in my room and smiles because she happens to be my biggest cheerleader.  She’s a woman that you will rarely see without a happy resolution, just being in her presence brings me joy.  Together the two of us are quite silly, when I am really sad she turns the radio and invites me to dance, if I refuse she dances in front of me alone until I break into a smile. Many times we annoy my sister with our shenanigans.  And every day at the same time she retreats into her room to pray the rosary.  She’s a woman of strong faith and great sacrificial love - am so blessed that God chose her for me.  She only went to school to the second grade and taught me that, “I must always be intolerant of ignorance, but understanding of illiteracy that some people unable to go to school are more intelligent than college professors.”  She’s a gem, my mother and time with her even in silence fuels my spirit with hope and peace.

What are somethings that you do alone and with others that make you feel better?  I think it’s important to have a list handy for those times when we need to be reminded how to deal with negative feelings in positive ways (smile).

Three Things That Always Make Me Feel Better

Sometimes little things can pile up and as much as I try to be positive, if I am not careful the stresses can begin to blind me of hope.  These past couple of weeks have been a bit intense in my life with issues at work rising due to mass layoffs, dealing with the aftermath of a car accident among other things.  I got caught up in the stresses and was beginning to feel the tension building.  Then we had a massive storm and during it I got drenched several times and when I got home I was about to have a pity party when a thought came to my mind and the idea for this post, “what can I do to make myself feel better?”  Below are three things that never fail in picking up my spirits.

Sitting across from Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament gives me instant relief.  Many times I have turned to him when life feels overwhelming and instantly my mood changes.  Sitting in silence having him there physically present changes my perspective from self to Jesus.  Most of the time he brings scripture to my mind, usually a verse perfect for my situation. Other times when my soul is too tumultuous to listen I pray the rosary and slowly decade after decade my soul quiets.  In really difficult times I cry and I always picture myself with my head on his lap he caressing my head letting me release my torment.  However strong my woes, I always leave the chapel with more hope in my heart.

Walking with Dollar.  You don’t know how many times I've taken my dog on walks so that I could talk with God.  There’s a park near my home, where I love to let my dog run free and while he runs wild in ecstasy, I usually have the deepest conversations with God.  I am a big believer in tears and their power to cleanse and I often apply this therapy.  Before my brother died I rarely cried (I had a hard heart), afterward I was given the gift of tears – at least that’s the explanation that most makes sense to me (smile).

Writing, when my thoughts get troubled I need to give them space to sort out; a blank piece of paper gives me that space. I think because growing up I didn't have my own physical area (in our overcrowded apartment) a journal functioned as my safe haven.  My own private room a place to scream, experience and express those unpleasant thoughts.  To this day when I am really troubled I grab a pen and paper and share everything.  They are powerful written prayers that always give my Martha Spirit a sense that I have done something about the problem.  You'd be surprise how writing down everything that is going through my mind without censorship, just getting everything out no matter how dark usually leads me to the root of trouble and once I have identified the problem I can then work on a solution.

The three techniques I have described above can really be summed in one word, prayer.  Prayer always lifts my spirit. The type of prayer that I do usually has to do with what I need most at that moment.  Sometimes I just need to be in the presence of God through the Blessed Sacrament, at other times I need to be out in nature with my best animal friend, still others I need to release a storm of words that are begging to be sorted.  These three types of pick-me-uppers are things that I can do on my own freely at any given moment.  Next time I will share three things that refresh my spirit that involve others because as much as I love my alone time God created us to be in community with other people. After all we are here to help and encourage one another always imitating Christ.

Music Gives Voice to Feelings

Music gives voice to feelings, those things that cannot be expressed in words a good song can come pretty close.  I grew up in a loud home where the stereo played all types of wonderful sounds.  Some of my fondest memories are of my brother and me spending a Friday night at the dinner table listening to heart wrenching songs while we talked about deep subjects.  Usually, we would ride our bikes to the liquor store and buy some beer or a bottle of cheap tequila and go back home to listen to music just the two of us.  I believe he did this so that once under the spell of the alcohol I would tell him my deepest thoughts and darkest secrets…  I remember we would talk about life in Mexico and how we needed a new revolution to cleanse the country or we would talk about art and argue over whether I should buy a real painting or be happy with a reproduction.  Somedays he would get me to lower my defenses and I shared the status of my soul the woes of my heart.  Other times the songs would dictate the subject of conversation… When he passed away I would visit his grave and take with me a BoomBox to play music while I laid on the grass beside his grave; beside him I would share the status of my soul tears pouring. 

His death drove me into the darkest territory of my being and my mind couldn’t handle it so I had a nervous breakdown.  I started hearing voices and seeing messages in writing.  After getting specialized care, I was put on a words diet.  I couldn’t read or listen to music until my brain calmed itself down.  My psychologist knew the importance music had for me so she prescribed classical music- mostly instrumental.  What was nothing more than elevator music became a realm of healing.  I would also like to add here, that I come from a small pueblo in Mexico and from that perspective classical music belonged to the upper class.  This period in which I was given the key to enter a whole new musical world brought down class barriers, I learned that music has no economic status.  Beauty belongs to God and He gave all of us equally this beauty.  During that year, I listened mostly to Mozart, his music became my medication and slowly my mind began to heal.

I grew up in a noisy home, full of wonderful sounds and to this day I need music like my lungs need air.  One day I was driving home and I heard Andrea Bocelli “Con Te Partiro,” though I didn’t understand the lyrics the sentiment he put into the lyrics and the music together gave me chills.  Later, I would discover that it’s a song of loss and it became my anthem during that time of such turmoil.  Am sharing a link to it here because it’s a song that still gives me chills, I love the sadness and the hope that together dance in unison.  God provides so many antidotes to help us heal and though some wounds will never truly mend – music like a Band-Aid makes them manageable.   

Cooking with Father Leo Patalinghug

Last Thursday, a few of my friends and I attended a Diocesan Pre-Valentines event: cooking with Father Leo Patalinghug.  It was a great way to celebrate our growing friendship.  I really didn’t know what to expect, I just knew that I had to witness the culinary art of our famous cooking priest.  For some reason I thought that we would be cooking alongside him, learning through hands on experience; to my surprise, we sat at dinner tables while he cooked in front of us.  At first I was a little disappointed by this set-up, but once Father took the stage I loved every minute.  His charisma and good sense of humor had us mesmerized from beginning to end.  He spoke on marriage and bringing back families to the dinner table – while he chopped onions, parsley, garlic, etc.  Watching him cook was as impressive as the words of wisdom he shared with us.  To end his lesson, he had all married couples stand and renew their vows!  It was such a blessing to see couples (especially the ones who have been married for a while) stand up, face each other and renew the promises to love one another.  They were like giddy teenagers (smile).

Father Leo cutting an onion and imparting wisdom.

Over 150 people in attendance.

Making the perfect sauce.

As a single person I sometimes yearn for the physicality of another.  Recently on a Sunday, I went to Mass feeling a little down because I had seen a couple holding hands and I suddenly craved that intimacy.  I remember going into Mass with this desire in my heart, and when it was time to pray “Our Father,” I felt a set of small fingers parting my own to hold my hand just as I had been craving.  The hand belonged to my nephew (smile).  Since that day that’s how he holds my hand every Sunday while we pray together.  I remember the first time it happened, I smiled thinking, “God, you’re good.”  It wasn’t until Father Leo was sharing how a single girl would get all dolled up to go to Holy Hour and be with God.  She craved to get dolled up and go out on a date, so every Friday she would get pretty and go to adoration.  It was Valentine’s Day and she was feeling a little insecure, but she still put on a dress and went to visit Jesus.  While she talked to Jesus she craved getting flowers (she had never gotten flowers before) as this thought crossed her mind a lady who had been cleaning the church came over to her and handed her a bouquet.  The lady asked the girl if she would like the flowers because there were too many and couldn’t all fit in the vase.  When Father was sharing this story I remembered the time I was craving to hold someone’s hand, but to hold it with interlocking fingers and this nine-year-old boy moved by the Holy Spirit gave me just that.  He’s just a really good, good Father, our God, and always gives us what we need even if it’s something so ridiculously small.

 The renewal of vows.

“Grace Before Meals,” Father Leo’s ministry shines a light showing that God truly is everywhere, even in the kitchen.  We got a little insight into the beginnings of Father Leo’s culinary career - how even he thought a cooking show on EWTN was a bit strange, but God wanted to use him in such a special way to share the Good News and spread the gospel.  After his cooking lesson, we all got to eat his pasta and it was delicious!  Such a fun evening and a happy pre-galantines day.             

The Healing Powers of Homemade Tea

These last few days, I have been on this mental teeter-totter.  Fighting with this restlessness between what I want to do versus what I should do and insecure of any decision made.  If mom was home she would make me a cup of tea.  A cup of tea is the best medicine for any ailment, at least it is for me.  My mom usually makes it for me and it’s always made with so much love that as I drink the herbal liquid I drink her healing love, and there’s nothing that a mother’s love can’t heal…  My nephew and I have been reading the first two Harry Potter novels and the first book shows how a mother’s love is so powerful that it can defeat evil.  The antagonist of the novel, the “one who shall not be named,” is pure evil and the touch of Harry Potter’s skin destroys him simply because Harry Potter has been protected with the goodness and purity of a mother’s love.  I almost laughed at how easily this fictional character is destroyed.  Now, as mom is out of town (my best friend, my confidant, my healer) I realize how ingenious the Harry Potter plot is because love is truly more powerful than the darkest evil- as Christians we hear this message repeatedly.  Yet, when I read the ending (sorry for spoiling book one) I almost let out a sarcastic, “Oh, come on,” because I thought this love charm protection spell was too cheesy.  This comes from a girl who loves cheesy!  Days later as I find myself missing my mommy I am beginning to doubt my hard judgement over the ending in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.

Yesterday, I made myself some tea because I really needed the comforting and though I boiled the organic herbs myself, as I sipped (savoring every taste) I felt covered in my mother’s love.  I flew back to a day when I was ten-years-old and terribly sick.  She picked me up on her lap even though I was too big to fit in her embrace, my feet no longer dangling and even though I felt too big to be in her arms I didn’t move.  She told me a story (my mother is a great story teller).  As she was telling me the tale a package arrived in the mail, it was a doll almost my size that she had ordered from some catalog.  I must have been really sick because I didn’t run to the doll I just sat content on her lap.  I don’t remember if there was tea, but I am certain there was.  There’s always tea with mom - it’s her spoonful of sugar.  And no matter what illness I might suffer, my mom knows what type of tea to make me and like a band aid on a boo-boo it’s instantly better.

Last night I cut a few leaves from our lime tree, washed them and stuck them inside my teapot filled with water.  

I waited until it came to a boil, added a little honey and enjoyed a cup while I sat in silence with my cute dog at my feet.  With each sip my heart filled with joy and my mind began to calm the infiltration of back-and-forth thoughts.  Racing thoughts are an occasional challenge we bipolar sufferers experience.  Nonetheless, by the last sip I had found my peace and my mind and spirit were no longer troubled.  My mami and her teas to the rescue once again (smile).

Learning to Pray

Iris the Flower of Hope.

When I began praying in a formal way, I followed the instructions of an Evangelical Pastor:  

A Quiet Place - Checked

A Set Time During the Day - Checked

A Comfortable Position- Checked

A Lit Candle (optional) – Checked

I remember that not knowing any better, I sat in my silent room like a small Buddha: my feet crisscrossed with my hands palms up resting on my knees.  My thoughts would wander trying to focus on God.  I waited frustrated that I couldn’t hear His voice; but I persevered sitting in the darkness for at least fifteen minutes daily.  One day, I had this vision where I saw myself standing at the edge of a river and my brother on the other side.  It was dark, we were just two shadows, but I knew that I was me and that he was him and that this body of moving water separated us.  There were no exchange of words, but deep in my heart I knew he was telling me to live and that one day I would too cross over that threshold.  So, I got myself on a little boat and I started living, rowing towards him every day a little closer.  He became my goal and I started exploring religion mostly through the notion of heaven of life after death…

Father once shared during a homily that when he asks people about heaven the popular response is I am going to see my loved ones, but people forget to mention that God will also be there.  For months I prayed and traveled back to this image, until one day I saw a white figure next to my brother and I knew it was Jesus.  Without speaking my brother told me that I needed to let him go, and that day in tears I knew that I would not visit this place separated by a river for a long time.  But I also knew that he was with God and that was such sweet sorrow.

The beginning years of my return to the faith I rowed my little vessel towards my brother, I carried his heart in mine like a compass.  A compass that guided me towards him.  The thing about God is that He knows how to speak to us each individually.  God knew that in order for me to trust Him and to fall in love with Him I needed my brother as a mediator.  I needed what was known to me to take a leap of faith.  For years my vision of heaven was my brother until one day, I realized that Jesus would also be there.  One day, as I rowed my little boat towards the speck of heaven my brother was, I realized that all this time God was using him until I was ready to see the majestic vision of the Promised Land.  To see the complete heavenly picture transferred my compass to the true guide, God.  When I think of paradise (now) I know that it will be bigger than just a reunion with my loved ones, it will be like a Mexican party where all are invited because everyone is familia - only better because we will be with God. 

I came across the song, “Al Otro Lado de Rio” around that time and it became so special to me.  There’s a light on the other side of the river. Animo!

May this song speak to you in a way personal to you.

Honesty is the First Chapter in the Book of Wisdom

White Chrysanthemum the flower of truth.

When I was a college freshman, a friend once made me a weird tasting Spaghetti.  He was extremely proud of his secret ingredient. After dinner he asked me how I had liked it, to which I gave him an honest answer, “It’s not the best I’ve had, I just think it would have tasted better without the odd tasting sausage.”  The sausage happened to be his secret weapon.  He was upset and so was my other friend who liked him and I couldn’t understand what I had done wrong.  “I was just being honest,” I later told my therapist.  She told me that when being honest I couldn’t forget kindness.  I realized that my opinion at times is not important, I appreciated the time and effort my friend put into making us dinner and that’s what I should have expressed.  I wouldn’t have lied and I would have also been kind. 

Growing up, dad always told me, "the Penny’s are people of their word."  That to me meant honest, people you can count on.  A yes from him is like getting a notarized contract, he’s no wishy-washy Charlie Brown.  Cather in the Rye continue to fuel my hate of hypocrisy and now my faith teaches me to live in the truth.  All of my life that’s something that has been a constant, live truthfully.  Now I have a bigger responsibility if I want to be a saint (which as of recent, I do) then I have to lead a life of truth.  Besides lying is way too hard, I am a scatterbrain and I wouldn’t be able to keep track of my lies.

I like routine.  With children routine makes them thrive because they know what to expect.  It creates order in their lives, promotes confidence and gives them a safe setting for growth.  Since, I have been diagnosed bipolar routine makes me really happy.  My day begins early because I work east coast hours, which means it also ends early because sleep is important for my sanity.  On a regular day, I pray, check for my good morning and when I reach the office while I drink my coffee I go through my social media page.  At work for the most part things run smoothly, usually with me working on my own and stopping occasionally for brief breaks.  Then the alarm goes off at the same hour and I run home to a happy dog and a little alone time to gather my bearings.  The afternoon activities change depending on the day.  Lately, I have been a homebody so I pick an activity, pray, walk my dog, say goodnight, read then time for bed.  It doesn’t sound too exciting, but I love my simple life. 

In between all that I try to share on FB with consistency because I guess I want to create an environment to thrive.  Sharing with such precision doesn’t come easy, I am not obsessive compulsive, but I go through the trouble of keeping such an exact social media routine thinking it will promote trust. I am always an open book.  I am aware that lies are not just what one says, but also the things that sometimes one withholds.  The last few weeks I have posted things afterwards thinking that keeping to routine was the better option.  Yet, I think it might have created distrust? I am still learning to be an effective communicator, communication just happens to be one of those areas of study that one never fully graduates from.  In certain matters it’s hard to trust, but I think, “devout Catholic’s should not lie” and that helps me trust others and keep my peace.  We are called to live in truth, not when it’s convenient but always as a sign that Christ is in us.

I have friends who have two FB pages for different people, or some who find a way to post selecting and unselecting friends who can see posts- I don’t do any of that.  If I befriended you on social media every soul is equally tortured with my multiple posts.  Lies create paranoia (I see this with friends who use FB selectively) and for a bipolar sufferer maintaining our peace and sanity is of utter importance.  Sometimes I feel like blocking my sister because she can be so critical at times, but I deal with her wrath because it was my choice to befriend her (smile).  We’ve been sisters all of our lives and we still have disagreements and most of the time due to poor communication!  But we have also been raised to forgive and not hold on to any resentment.