Keep God in Halloween

Throughout the years I have created a few traditions that we follow as a way to make Halloween a little Christian.  This weekend my nephew and I spent moments of fun getting ready for my former favorite holiday.  As a child we were dirt poor in addition we didn’t have a car, so going places or spending money on non-essentials just didn’t happen.  Thus, getting to make up for it via my nephew makes the little child in me dance with happiness.  We started Friday afternoon, by spending sometime at our local pumpkin patch choosing the best pumpkin for our gospel carving activity.

"The Pumpkin Gospel"

 It's all about Harry Potter this year!

As I have shared before, there’s this great little book that uses the process of carving a jack-o-lantern to talk about how God works in us.  It’s called the “The Pumpkin Gospel.”  The short glow-in-the-dark book is one that I have used every year.  My nephew and I read it before we begin our creative process.  I refer to it as the pumpkin carving instructions because it goes step by step of the carving a pumpkin process giving each step a spiritual meaning.  The pumpkin goes through a sort of allegorical conversion from pumpkin to happy jack-o-lantern with God’s light shining thru. 

Then we tag our candy with stickers I usually purchase at my local Christian Store.  Stickers that have a smiley face with the words, “Smile, God loves you!” Tagging each of our two-hundred mini candy bars is always a fun process.  This year my nephew’s little friend came over and asked why we tagged our candy and I told her so that everyone knows that God loves them.  At which she said, “you know not everyone believes in God,” and we had a good discussion on the subject…  I’ve also heard some people will have saint cards to give along with the candy.  The goal is to evangelize (smile).

We also attend our parish’s Fall Fest- in which my nephew and I dress as saints and participate in the fun activities.  This year I was preoccupied with celebrating my brother-in-heaven’s memorial mass- that I completely forgot about Fall Fest!  Sunday morning after a stroll in the park, giving the lecture at RCIA class, making sure I got everyone to church for the memorial mass, then spending sometime at the cemetery – the Fall Fest slipped out of my mind.  This year my nephew and I were both going to be patron saints of the impossible: he, Saint Jude Thaddeus and I, Saint Rita.  In all the activity we all forgot.

Halloween is a day we dedicate to celebrating fear.  There’s fun in getting spooked as long as we know that it’s pretend.  Nevertheless, life gives us scarier scares and it’s great to know that we have God to guard us during the real terrifying moments.  Thus, keeping God in Halloween should always be the objective- just like we want Him in our lives everyday. Have a Happy Halloween!    

Halloween: St. Rita of Cascia Costume

I love Halloween!  It used to be my favorite holiday because of the costumes.  Why dream of being a princess when you can make it happen - even if it’s just for a day.  After a rough beginning (when I returned to the Catholic faith) Halloween continues to be a day that inspires my creativity.  As a revert, initially I was only going to be a “little” Catholic because I felt like the religious life meant “No” to most fun. In fact, the first challenge I faced was the opposition to my favorite holiday by the young adult group that I belonged to.  Every year they devoted a session to “Say NO to Halloween!”  I, of course, thought what lunacy.  While I have come to understand the arguments that some Christians have against Halloween, today I employ my creativity beyond the costume making to the way I celebrate the day itself.  In past posts I’ve mentioned how I tag all my candy with “Jesus, loves you stickers” so that during the one night a year that tons of people come so willingly to my door they will leave with treat in hand and a message of love.  October thirty-first is the day that I evangelize the masses of trick-or-treaters!  Instead of turning off my porch light and saying no, I use the opportunity to share God in a very casual way.  In the years, since I started doing this I have never gotten a single complaint and my nephew and I enjoy having a moment together stamping our candy with a faith filled message.

I also choose a saint to study during the October month and then pay tribute by dressing up as her for the festivity.  It's also a way of evangelizing others, when people ask me who I am dressed as I can share a little about the saint.  One of the women in my Franciscan Fraternity saw me for the first time and she was like "hey, you're Saint Helena" (she was referring to the costume I wore a few years back).  This year, I was cruising through Savers when I noticed that a complete costume of a nun was on sale for $4.99, score!  I found the classic black habit so then I started a Google search for nun saints that wore black habits and after some perusing I came across Saint Rita of Cassia.  She attracted me because, like Saint Jude Thaddeus she is the saint of the impossible.  I found a book on PDF that told her biography and after I got the news that I was being laid off, I devoured the work in just one sitting.  God has the most amazing sense of humor and proper timing because my saint selection this year couldn’t have been a more suitable life to study. 

From a young age Saint Rita desired to be a nun, but being the only child her parents wanted her to marry.  Obedient to their will she married a man they selected for her, he turned out cruel and abusive.  Yet, she remained faithful baring two sons who she loved deeply.  She constantly prayed for the conversion of her husband and after almost eighteen years she won him over with patience and kindness.  However, he got caught up in wrong circles and was assassinated.  His death provoked her two sons to seek revenge.  Unable to persuade her sons to forgive, prayer became her only hope.  Afraid of eternal damnation for her sons she asked God to intervene; to change her son’s hearts or to take them before they killed anyone.  Within a year both of her children passed away in a state of grace forgiving their father's murderer. Without any family left, she decided to dedicate the rest of her life to God.  She wanted to enter the convent, but she was turned away.  Facing another crushing disappointment she turned to prayer and God gave her the perseverance to try again until she was accepted at the convent.  Though her life was painfully challenging she found refuge in prayer uniting her sufferings to Christ.  One day during prayer in front of a crucifix she received a physical wound on her forehead, a mystical and visible mark of Jesus’ wound from the crown of thorns.  She is also one of the incorruptible saints, her body is venerated at a basilica in Italy.

Walking with her this month, has been a delight because I know that God sent her my way to encourage and to show me that prayer moves mountains! And to remind me that even in difficult times God is with me and He longs to share my suffering.  Why waste a day trying to keep evil out, when instead we can deposit good and use the occasion to evangelize others and ourselves!    

“Prayer to St. Rita of Cascia”

“O holy protectress of those who are in utmost need,
shining as a star of hope in the midst of darkness,
in patience and fortitude as the patriarch Job,
scourge of devils, health of the sick,
deliverer of those in extreme need,
admiration of saints and model of all states!

“With confident trust, and firmly united to the adorable will of my God,
through the merits of my only Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ,
and in particular of that painful crown of thorns
which with a tender devotion thou didst daily contemplate;
through the merits of the most sweet Virgin Mary
and thine own excellent graces and virtues,
I implore thee with my whole heart and soul, to obtain my earnest petition,
provided it be for the greater glory of God and my salvation.”

How Should a Catholic Woman Dress?

These past few years I feel like I lost my style mojo.  I live in leggings, comfortable tunics and flats.  Am not sure when I no longer cared if I left my house without an ounce of make-up and my hair up in a messy bun.  My former twenty-something fashionista self would be terribly disappointed in me.  I’m in a rut and I accept it.  At first it was the result of the spiritual change that was taking place inside me.  I wanted to tame my vanity – so I started focusing less and less on my appearance.  During this period of physical detoxification, I contemplated a secret vocational desire; meaning that I was privately discerning religious life and I wanted to strip myself of the world.  So, my daily getting ready ritual went out the window in an attempt to live more humbly.  Slowly, I realized that perhaps religious life wasn’t for me, but I liked the freedom that I had found in not always having to be dressed to the nines.  Another change simultaneously took place, I started gaining weight and though I see quite fashionably plus-size women I feel like I haven’t learned how to dress for my body type.  In addition, this whole notion of modesty slowly hit my radar and instead of coming out victoriously into a better version of me – I feel like I went to the other extreme: frumpy. 

How should a Catholic woman dress? 

I am still figuring out how to answer that question.  I don’t like matronly dresses or clothes that look like I stepped out of an Amish community.  At first, I tried to imitate other church women.  I figured that would be a proper place to start, but I’ve never been one to copy.  I often read in style magazines that your style sends a message of who you are, though many might disagree I believe what we wear matters.  A professor in university always wore a tie and he explained how just by dressing formally his students respected him more based on years of dressing casually.  A journalist decided to blog about how people reacted to him wearing police, fire fighter and military uniforms - he was so bold to even try a priest’s cassock for a day! His findings were that people generally responded with great courtesy, respect and admiration for people in uniform.  His conclusion: what we wear matters.  

These past few weeks have been a period where I have been forced to examine things in my life.  I've been looking for a new job and wondering where I am going to land, what the next phase in my career will be?  With this wave of looking ahead, of making plans – I realize that there’s other areas that I would like to change in my life, other goals that need to be made.  One is finding balance between my vanity and my frumpy- to come to a middle ground where casual doesn’t translate to unkempt.  I know part of my style struggle has to do with my weight gain.  I don’t feel my best at this size and it’s really hard because instead of fighting I feel like I have thrown in the towel.  Sometimes it seems like giving up is easy, but living with the daily feelings of disappointment is really not.  Usually battles that need to be fought are never easy and most of us give up before facing the fight, or we go to battle, lose and resign our hopes.  BUT – pulling from my mother’s favorite aphorisms, “todo cuesta, everything has a price.”  Things that are worth it are never easy. 

There’s a standard of modesty that goes with answering how a Catholic woman should dress, but in the answer there’s room for individuality for your quirkiness to peak through.  Answering that question, requires a unique personal response one that usually digs into who we are and the light we want to shine thru.  One that takes us into a journey that battles the dragons that oppress and jail us in prisons of insecurity.  God sets us free, but we need to want to be free.  I have tried losing weight many times and I just don’t make any progress, but I realize that my daily appearance shows my defeat.  There’s a difference in a humble exterior and one where the person has given up entirely and I feel like I am becoming the latter.  My heels, jewelry and pretty clothes are gathering dust in my closet because I have lost confidence in myself and not because I have become more spiritual.  Thinking of working in a different environment where I no longer can come in as casually as I do every day pushes me to revive my style.  While, it’s uncomfortable to see weaknesses that cannot be fixed in one day, but require effort and some time– I know that with perseverance the victory will come.  Maybe I am too intense and can never take at a question from a superficial eye, but I want all of me to be "real" from the deepest roots of my soul to the surfaces of my body. 

Finding Hope in the Words of Saint Therese

Hurry and heal black eye, so that you look good with your Halloween outfit. :)

We all need a bit of encouragment every now and then, this morning I found much in the words of Saint Therese of Lisieux.  She happens to be my favorite female saint, while some people think that having favorites is not a good practice- I disagree.  Just like we bond with certain people more than we do with others, I believe it’s the same with our holy intercessors.  Saint Therese is my BFF and anytime I am running low on fuel, or need help I seek her confidance.  Her simple, poetic language always revives me with hope.  The following quotes were written in my journal a few years ago, when I attended a women’s retreat.  This morning I was flipping through the journal looking for something to inspire me and I knew I had to share these three quotes!

“What offends Him and what wounds His heart is the lack of confidence...  It is confidence, and confidence alone, that must lead us to love…”

It’s hard to trust another, even if the other is God.  Maybe that’s why throughout the bible He gives us example after example of trusting in Him.  Many of our ancestors failed miserably, which I find so comforting because God loved them even when they were unsuccessful.  We also are given two great examples (Jesus and Mary) of the blind faith that led their lives.  I find hope in both- in Jesus and Mary I have my aim, but in those who were weak I gather courage knowing that God loves me even when my confidence is lacking.

“Your heart is made to love Jesus, to love Him passionately; pray so that the beautiful years of your life may not pass by in chimerical fears…”

These past few days of uncertainty I have found great strength in God and His promises.  Yet, it’s easy to lose sight and focus on the fears.  Especially, for me who likes routine and these past weeks have at times pushed my mind into “the what if” territory.  Teaching my mind to focus on God and hope with great confidence in Him, can at times be challenged by fears of the unknown.  Just this morning I had to give myself a cheerful pep talk because my thoughts were drifting into future fears.  I had to refocus on God and send those fears a flying!  That’s why I love the quote above because it’s our choice as to what gets replayed in our mind throughout the day- what better rest than love all day long (smile).

“Every day is made up of hundreds of little moments that are opportunities to love God… We have only the short moments of our life to love Jesus.”

Once our mind is immersed in God, then our actions are those of love.  Our view is no longer centered around me, but on how I can love God through the service of those in greater need than I.  It goes back to trust, if I place my trust in God then I am freed to love others because my worries are obliterated the moment I place my confidence in Him (smile).  Thank you Saint Therese! 

FYI Post timings and days might change during this period of transition. 

Life Lately: My Dollar

The day I brought him home.

Over the weekend Dollar developed a marble size bump below his eye.  At my touch I didn’t notice any pain, but since it appeared from one day to the next and made one of his eyes appear smaller I made an appointment for him yesterday afternoon.  His vet told me that it was a tooth abscess which probably meant that he had a cavity or a broken tooth.  In order to get a clear diagnosis Dollar needed to be sedated and remain at the vet all afternoon.  Now, I am not sure who has worst separation anxiety me or him.  He’s fourteen and I was traumatized when a friend took her senior dog to the vet and the dog became so agitated it had a heart attack at the animal hospital.  Thus, I always try to be with him away from home, but yesterday I had to leave him there and trust that he was in great hands.  An hour later the vet called me and told me that Dollar’s teeth were ok, that it was actually a lesion inside his mouth that got infected.  She drained the abscess and said I could pick him up after a period of two hours of observation.  I was elated that my prayers had been answered and that things were not as serious as the vet had initially thought.  So, I expected to pick him up and be able to go to class.

Our First Halloween! Fairy & her dragon.

However, when I put him in the car he started whimpering, this awful crying sound which didn’t go away for two hours after he was home.  I later learned that the noise was a side-effect of the sedation usually related with the trauma and separation anxiety.  He finally relaxed a bit, but didn’t have complete mobility.  His hind legs were jelly.  I tried feeding him and giving him liquids, but not even his most favorite treats worked.  I was unable to give him the antibiotics or pain medication and I felt like such a failure all night.  Luckily he was able to sleep through some of the night while I laid awake vigilant laying my hands over him in prayer.  He loves it when I pray over him.  Usually, when he’s having a bad dream I just lay my hands on him and the nightmare evaporates into thin air.  This morning, he has full mobility (though he’s still a bit wobbly) and I finally got him to eat, drink, and take his meds! Praise God and Saint Francis our intercessor! 

His first t-shirt after a long walk.

We have been through a lot my Dollar and me, and though our years are getting shorter he’s my baby.  At the moment he’s curled at my feet in his bed, but let’s look back…   

 At the preschool parade, my students loved him!

His first bed.

His first Christmas!

Our first Christmas!

 Before show and tell at the preschool I used to teach at.

 Our first Christmas after my brother passed away.

 His first sweater.

The first picture at our new home.

Forever my pumpkin!

We've both grown and changed so much, but it's been the greatest adventure since day one...

Lessons of the Fall

I have been looking into job leads, sending out my resume while still keeping a fulltime job and all my other activities; thus, my schedule has been a bit constrained- with the job search taking much of my thoughts and time… 

Today, I want to walk away from that topic and discuss something lighter – like the arrival of fall!  If I were a season, autumn would be my name!  Even though in California the seasonal changes are quite subtle, I love this time of year.  I love the crisp smell, the orange-mustard hues, the crunch of the leaves and the lower temperatures.  It’s sweater season. O’, how I love a good cardigan let me count the ways (smile)!  And pumpkins – the sight of the orange spheres bring cuddles of happy to my chest… But what I love most is the grey skies and the barren trees.  If fall had a sound – it would be that of a “full” silence as nature quietly sheds its skin.  Don’t be tricked by its understated change, deep within its roots, life begins to fall asleep awaiting for the indication to rise again.  This sleepiness of fall is what draws me so.  The hushed stupor feels like an incarnation of an introverted spirit: one so calm and one so still.  Unlike spring and summer with its loud colors and sounds, fall’s low vocal cords require a trained ear.  During the fall things begin to look dead, like they will no longer bear fruits, but if you look deeply a trained eye sees the transformation happening - a change, from what was to what will be.  At the beginning of fall, when I walk Dollar I can taste the season, it lingers on my lips and caresses my body with its large, breezy wings.  It motions me to listen, to quiet my soul.  To hear and see what goes unaware. 

Many, many years ago generations assigned gods for the many aspects of creation. The Greek goddess Carpo was in charge of autumn and a bountiful harvest.  Some cultures enamored by nature decided to make mother earth a god.  While I find mythology quite beautiful, there’s not an ounce of reason that supports those claims.  Yet, the God with a capital “G” that I believe in has shown me that reason and faith can stand side by side.  We live in such a perfect world, where the laws of nature follow such an embedded code that they know when to begin preparing for the long winter sleep.  God used science to create this complex universe; but, like the genius that He is, He left us visual poetry that reaches the soul in ways no scientific formula can.  You can understand scientifically the amazing process of the seasons, but when you’re enveloped in that fresh gust of wind and see the long fingers of the branches saluting the heavens – something like the most pure wonder caresses the spirit. 

Fall prepares nature for its upcoming rest and even when things look dead after a proper period of waiting life will soon peak through again and all will be more glorious.  Great things happen during autumn, but they are so muted that one needs to calm the spirit and will it to listen.  November twentieth is my last day at the office, but I am at peace because life continues even when some channels appear to be dying.  Fall doesn’t panic because it knows that spring will follow after the winter.  God wrote a beautiful symphony with the seasons, a song so full of truth that comforts those who dare to stop and listen.  It’s cyclical and full of change like our lives; but there’s beauty and hope in its continuous stages.  The year wouldn’t be complete without fall just like our lives wouldn’t be complete without the moments of shedding and even the moments of rest.  

Through Love, Serve One Another

I came back to the Catholic Church after a long journey as an agnostic and then a protestant Christian.  I also returned with great need.  In 2007, I was learning to live with my new bipolar diagnoses and had just began treatment.  Mentally and emotionally I was in a really dark, insecure place.  Life had little meaning, I was unemployed because I couldn’t keep a job and I had told my mom that if God didn’t help me soon that I was going to take my life.  One day she took me to three parishes to speak with different priests and though all made the time to speak with me I left their offices in the same state of desolation.  At Our Lady of the Pillar Church, I was meeting the third priest of the day.  Even though I didn’t have an appointment he made the time to speak with me.  He quietly listened as I shared my darkness.  When I was done,  he said, “Sometimes people with depression feel so heavy because they only see their hurt.  I want you to go and look for an opportunity to volunteer your time helping someone else.” 

The young adult group that I was attending invited me to visit Saint Francis Senior Home that following Sunday.  Though I felt like I had nothing to contribute, I accepted the invitation.  When I got to the home, I was the only one in the young adult group who spoke English so they asked me to lead the two-hour visit.  Those two hours taught me that even at my most broken state I still had much to contribute.  A simple visit with lonely, abandoned, aging women showed me that suffering wasn’t just inside me it was very present in the world and in my community.  And, I didn’t have to offer a grand gesture to help those hurting – my presence and my listening ear gave those women so much joy.  As I continued to help at the senior home, the sisters who run it told our group how knowing that our group was visiting would motivate their ladies to leave their beds, shower and get ready for their visitors, “On the Sunday's you come, we have no trouble getting the ladies to shower.  They are so happy for visitors that they run out of bed and into the shower.”  

They love to dance!

Soon I became the coordinator of the Sunday visits and one day I decided to have a manicure pampering day.  The sisters again shared their joy because sometimes they don’t have enough time or people to trim the ladies’ nails.  These small gestures made such an impression in the lives of the women of Saint Francis Senior Home, but also taught me that service is the most healing, rewarding, uplifting thing a person with depression can do.  Jesus told us that he came into this world to serve and we must imitate what he taught us.  Service saved my life! In my spiritual journey I have fallen madly in love with God and this passion continues to inspire me to live a life doing good.  I crave to reach heaven and hear God say, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”        

I think they've enjoyed having Dollar (in costume) come visit- more than me!

Sister Death Transitus Vigil

October fourth is the day that the church dedicates to the remembrance of one of the most beloved Catholic saints, Saint Francis of Assisi.  Each year selected parishes celebrate the vigil of his death, known as the Transitus, word that comes from the Latin meaning: “passage,” “crossing” or “going over.”  The Transitus Feast has always been an important part of Christian spirituality because ideally we should not be afraid of death.  Saint Francis even referred to “Sister Death” in a positive light, a sort of crossing into eternal life with the Father.  His death was a paradox that carried the sadness of a beloved being lost to this world with a deep joy of his birth into eternal life.  His friends and loved ones gathered around him singing and praising the Lord with many tears on his last day of life.

It’s only my second year in attendance at such a beautiful service and it’s become one of my favorite celebrations of the year.  I lost my faith and for the greatest part of my life I lingered between agnosticism and atheism.  Until the day that my brother died.  When he died I came across a fork on the road a decision concerning my spirituality needed to be made: to believe or not believe in God.  As I have shared my brother was schizophrenic and he endure a lot of mental anguish, pain that I saw so deeply entangled in his being.  When he passed, I could no longer believe that the material world was all we had, but if I was going to believe in heaven it needed to be a heaven that was real.  Not the heaven with angels playing harps and a golden gate like the one featured in most cartoons.  I needed him to exist to cross over into a real heaven with a real God, a place where he would find peace and a meeting spot where one day we would be reunited.  This search for heaven is what led my initial steps towards my Catholic faith.  Every year, during the Transitus Vigil I am reminded of my quest and for an hour - time is suspended and I get to experience Sister Death and hear the bells of heaven as one more saint arrives eternally home.  Death loses its power, it is redeemed in Jesus Christ.  

The friars Chanting Ultima.

  

“Lord, I beg you, let the burning and gentle force of your love pervade my soul and withdraw it from all that is beneath Heaven, that I might die through love of your love, since You did deign to die through love of my love…”

This year I invited my Secular Franciscan Fraternity to the vigil and quite a good group was able to accompany me, though my first Transitus will always be the most special, sharing it with my sisters in Christ was such a sweet treat.  And though there was no birthday cake this year, we did get to enjoy those almond cookies that Saint Francis loved so much and which Lady Jacoba made for him to delight as he departed from this world.  Saint Francis of Assisi pray for us and happy feast day!        

It's a Matter of Waiting

I am writing this bit from my garden, a place I have been spending most of my time lately.  It's just such a wonderful feeling to be outside enjoying the natural beauty, listening to Solecito (my bird) sing and watching my dog sunbathe.  Usually I am involved in reading, working on my purse restoration, praying or just in silence thankful for this space.  When I was a little girl, stuffed like sardines in an apartment, I used to dream about a yard with a white picket fence.  It took my entire childhood and teenage years for this dream to materialize; God didn't forget nor did my prayers go unanswered it was just a matter of waiting.  Waiting.  In this day of such a fast paced world with technology making everything faster, waiting has become a foreign concept.  I've always been fascinated by how God made the birth process a nine month waiting period for the parents.  Pregnant women will even complain as the day gets near about their desire for baby to already be out so that their discomfort will minimize.  Yet, like a bun in the oven it needs to stay inside until it's fully baked (smile).  

As I think of my doubts in prayer, I believe they stem from asking God for prayers that required years to be answered.  I prayed for a home of my own and that took many years to acquire.  Another prayer that left me scarred was asking God (even during my agnostic years) for my father to stop drinking.  These two prayers hurt to voice, and they hurt more in the waiting.  Yet, as I have reflected on these two petitions I realize that they were voiced from a person that I am no longer today.  I lost my faith at a very young age and during moments of desperation I called to a God that I was unsure I believed in.  Today, I know that God is real and I believe in the power of prayer; yet, I feel like God is asking to heal an area that I didn't even know needed healing.  An area that goes back to that girl who prayed in desperation fighting reason and a deep belief that prayer didn't work.

Though it took many, many years, God provided a home and gave me the father I always wanted.  The big lesson is that God answers when He knows best.  My sister had been married for many years and she was unable to conceive.  A year after my brother died our prayers were answered when she found out she was pregnant and that news gave us all a huge reason to go on.  Waiting isn't easy nor popular in this fast paced world, but God uses time for our benefit.
Last Sunday, we heard in the gospel about the workers that were all paid the same wages even though some worked only a couple hours.  I always had a problem with that scripture reading because I felt it was so unfair.  But if you have ever been a laborer waiting for work at a Home Depot parking lot you know that you would rather work a full day shift then to wait uncertain whether you will make any day wages.  Usually waiting is accompanied by worry; yet, God challenges us to present our petitions to the Lord and go about our business knowing He will provide.  A huge lesson, one that I hope little by little with His grace I will learn (smile).