Our Halloween Traditions

Over the weekend my nephew and I were able to work on our Halloween traditions.  First up was carving our pumpkin.  This year he wanted to create a jack-o-lantern that played tribute to his new obsession, his favorite computer game, Fornite.  Since he’s getting older I thought that our usual tradition of reading the toddler book “The Pumpkin Gospel” before our carving process was no longer age appropriate because he’s almost a teen now.  I never expected him to miss this part of our carving process, but as we began to outline the design on his pumpkin he said, “Tia, aren’t you forgetting something, what about the story we usually read before we carve?”  I almost fell to the floor in shock because in the years past he’s complained about the book, but now I realize that he’s one of those kids that complains about things even though in reality he really enjoys these small faith traditions.  I asked him to summarize the book and he totally remembered the story, but now it had a new depth because he’s older and understands spiritual truths a little better.  After his retelling I went and I grabbed the picture book from my book shelve and we read it just like we have done so since our first year carving pumpkins.

Then we worked on branding our candy with stickers to evangelize the masses on Halloween night.  This year instead of our usual “Jesus loves you” stickers we found stickers with images of Jesus and Mary to place on all of our candy wrappers because sometimes an image can be equally inspiring as words.  Again, while we were blessing our candy with a good Catholic message my nephew was like, “Tia, you know we are the only house that does this.”  Which followed with a great discussion on how being different is totally cool.  “We want to share our love for Jesus with others,” I told him “can you imagine getting a candy with the image of Jesus or Mary - it can help families have discussions about who the people in these images are. Besides Halloween is a day to not be normal…”

Then we attended our annual Parish Fall Fest as Saint Barbara and Saint Maximilian Kolbe.  The parish fest is a celebration for the children in our parish, they are invited to dress as saints, there’s a pizza dinner, games and a scary reptile critters show.  This year both my nephew and I volunteered and we had such a great time!  He was the only middle schooler dressed in costume (apparently at his age it’s no longer cool to dress up) but again I passed my love for costumes with him and in the end he enjoyed dressing up. Thus, our Halloween weekend came to a close.     

 Saint selfies!

Halloween Costume: Saint Barbara

We are about to enter one of my favorite weekends of the year, Halloween weekend!  Each year I take the challenge of making one of the most controversial nights for Christians, full of Jesus.  Usually it begins with a well prepared saint costume.  This year I began my costume hunting at Goodwill and found a gold beauty of a dress and a crown that needed proper jewels, both pieces reminded me of Saint Barbara.  While Saint Barbara has been a saint that has always been present in my spiritual journey, I have never given her enough attention.  Though the first Catholic parish that I started attending after my reversion is dedicated to her and though recently I discovered that an image that has been hanging in my parents’ bedroom is none other than Saint Barbara- this October I finally made a conscious effort to get to know her better.  I had a bit of trouble finding a proper biography in book form, so I used a film that my Texan Angel gifted me with very high ratings.

Saint Barbara is known for physical beauty, according to the film “Saint Barbara: Convert and Martyr of the Early Church.” She lives during a time of great Christian persecution and is the daughter of a wealthy Roman governor, Dioscoro, who guards her carefully.  So afraid is he of letting Barbara out into the world that he builds a tower with three windows to preserve her from outside influence.  However, through a slave who attends to her, Barbara comes to know Jesus and secretly converts to Christianity.  Her love for God is so strong that when her slave is condemned to death due to her Christian faith Barbara attempts to save her.  She rebels and goes against her father and other government leaders as she also tries to save other persecuted Christians too.  Ultimately her Christian faith costs her life, as her father orders her execution after unsuccessfully trying to get her to reject her faith.  Before her death she is severely tortured and endures much cruelty.  Legend has it that after each torture session her wounds would heal, however her father eventually carried the execution himself beheading his daughter after failing to convert her to paganism.  As punishment Dioscoro was struck by lightning on his way home and Barbara was given a Christian burial and her tomb became a place of great miracles.  She is venerated on December fourth, the day of her believed martyrdom and because of her association with lightning she is the patron saint of artillerymen, military or anyone who faces danger and a sudden violent death in work.  She is usually represented with the tower, a martyr crown, palm branch or chalice.   

 This statue was my inspiration.

Her story is such a strong testament of faith and a most beautiful conversion testimony.  During a dark time in Christian history, God still works using people to spread His salvific message.  Saint Barbara hears the truth and from her tower prison she sees daily the beauty of creation.  She spends hours looking out her windows, admiring the natural beauty and being warmed by the rays of sunshine that shine through.  These gifts propel her thank such a generous, beautiful God.  As she learns her Christian faith (from her slave) she comes to encounter God- and their bond is so tight that no matter how hard her earthly father tries to separate her from God she refuses to surrender.  Her refusal to turn against her new found Christian faith is what most strikes me.  Learning of the humiliating, long, painful torture she received I am not sure if I could endure the same.  Especially so soon after my conversion!  Equally impressive is her ability to stand up against her father during a time period when women were seen to have so little value.  Her actions are quite courageous- truly a role model to keep and now another of my close intercessors. 

Prayer to Saint Barbara

St Barbara,

you are stronger than the tower of a fortress

and the fury of hurricanes.

Do not let lightning hit me, thunder frighten me

or the roar of canons jolt my courage or bravery.

Stay always by my side so that I may confront

all the storms and battles of my life

with my head held high and a serene countenance.

Winning all the struggles, may I,

aware of doing my duty, be grateful to you,

my protector, and render thanks to God,

the Creator of heaven, earth and nature

who has the power to dominate the fury of the storm

and to mitigate the cruelty of war.

St Barbara, pray for us.

Amen.

Previous year Saints Costume Links: St. Rita , St. Cecilia, Joan of Arc, Saint Elizabeth of Hungary, Saint Helena 

There's Still a Penny & Dollar

Pablo Neruda wrote “A Dog Has Died,” a poetic eulogy for his beloved dog when his dog passed.  In the second stanza he writes:

“I, the materialist, who never believed in any promised heaven in the sky for any human being, I believe in a heaven I’ll never enter.  Yes, I believe in a heaven for all dogdom where my dog waits for my arrival waving his fan-like tail in friendship.” 

When death comes knocking at our door to claim a beloved -simultaneously the ones left behind are left trying to make sense of the loss.  For many of us death is the first time we acknowledge our mortality and with it what comes next.  When my brother died I understood Neruda’s words to the core of my being, but unlike his poem I needed concrete evidence that life after death is real.  In fact, death was what humbled me to my knees and opened my heart to hear God’s truth.  Today, I believe in heaven with the same certainty that I trust the air that I breathe gives me life.  It is this truth in life after death, that has given me and continues to give me a reason to live.  A reason that my life on earth matters, has meaning and that when one breathes life's last breath all is not lost...  In fact, it's only the beginning of eternity (smile).    

Nevertheless, we all deal with death differently, but in the end we all hope for a heaven- a place where all those gone before us go…  I usually dissociate myself from loss, when my brother died I immediately packed up his room and gave everything away- almost erasing him from my life because that’s the only way that I could cope.  I didn’t want things of his in my home to remind me of his absence- so they all went to charity or in a box in the attic.  This past weekend, I found myself getting ready to purge my dog’s things because I thought that he too was about to leave me…

A couple days ago during his regular short walk around the neighborhood my dog collapsed, two out of the ordinary sways before his body plummeted to the floor.  As he laid on the concrete sidewalk completely unconscious, I thought he had had a heart attack and as I waited for any signs of life, his little chest showed me there was still life in him.  I carried him home where he continued to have balance issues.  Seeing the signs of his rapid deterioration I was bracing myself for the worse, and once again I had to find peace in the promises of my faith.  Those promises that in November of 2004 began my spiritual journey.  I thought of Neruda’s poem and while many say that animals don’t have souls therefore heaven is not their destination I believe that God is merciful even with little furry friends who are angels here on earth for so many of us.

Late last night, the vet called and told me that the results were back for Dollar’s tests and they all came back normal- except for his thyroid.  His thyroid is rather low which is causing him to fall all over the place, but with medication he should improve. Praise be to God!  I get to have him in my life a little longer.  While I was making preparatory arrangements for a possible euthanasia – God extended our time together.  Thank you all for the prayers, God heard them! In a couple weeks hopefully after the meds begin to kick in, my little wolf will be back to his shenanigans.  

Acts of Kindness

On Sunday, I gave my first lesson as a catechist this year, as I was sharing God as creator of the world, I mentioned that to me being outdoors contemplating the beauty of nature always pushes away my anxiety.  When I see the perfection of things at work it’s easy for me to believe that my struggles are a piece of cake for God.  When I see the animals in nature I am reminded that even though birds do not sow or reap they do not fall prey to anxiety trusting that God will provide. Since God esteems us much, much more than birds then we too must not waste energy worrying.  After my lecture one of my students shared how she has been super anxious because she is about to give birth to her fifth child and she got notice that within two months she and her family must turn the keys to her apartment.  Her husband is sole provider and his income is not high enough to qualify for an apartment.  Thus, she’s afraid that in a couple of months she, her new baby and family will be homeless.  In hearing that God provides, that He’s all powerful and meditating further on the Sunday Gospel reading (that we need to let go of things that keep us from God), she found solace knowing that she needed to offer her worry to God. 

The RCIA team was of course inspired by her openness to share such personal details and feeling the desire to offer more than affirmation, our fearless leader organized a surprise gift from both teachers and students.  We are all giving a small monetary donation in addition to voluntary gifts for the baby.  Since, this mommy is three weeks away from welcoming her baby and under so much stress I thought that she deserved a bouquet of flowers, but thinking that the flowers would die within days I decided to get crafty and create a bouquet of diapers!  I can’t wait to see her face on Sunday when we all surprise her with a little bit of kindness (smile).  Sometimes we forget when we intercede for another person, that we are the vehicle through which God can bless another person.  I know that I can be really good at saying a prayer for another person, but prayer invites us to do more than just state the intention and leave it to God.  In prayer God inspires us to be Jesus for that friend in need.  My mom’s favorite prayer is, “God place someone in my path that you wish me to help today.”  That is a really lovely prayer because though God doesn’t need our assistance to answer our prayer intentions, He loves to use us to do good. 

Sometimes it’s not that clear as to what to do to help another, but usually if we sit with God, He will inspire us on how to act.  I bought a pack of Huggies initially thinking that I would do a nappy cake, but then decided that a diaper flower bouquet would be much more special because it goes with the talk about creation... You can also pray for the recipient as you create her gift.    

The bouquet is really easy to make you just need: diapers, foam ball, vase, skewer wooden sticks, ribbon, tissue paper, invisible rubber bands      

God's Universe

A few nights ago I was in my bedroom reading a book when I started seeing flashes that appeared like someone outside my bedroom window was taking pictures with the flash constantly going off.  For a moment I thought it was a person with a camera outside my window and curious to discover my stalker I opened the blinds only to find an illuminated sky.  Sunny California surprisingly hosted a lighting storm complete with thunder and showers.  In my home state rain always generate such a buzz because for the most part our year is sunny side up, thus when there’s an interruption Californians get super excited.  I enjoy dusting my sweaters and Ugg boots for wear in the rare colder temperatures as people rush to express their gratitude because we need the water to avoid a drought.  It is this positive frenzy that makes connection with God so simple.  He could have made one single season with a set temperature and weather pattern- but he gives us such variety. He caresses us with the power of the wind, touches us with drops of rain and lights the sky.  These seasonal changes, so experienced by our senses, also renew washing the earth and watering the plants. 

It is during these changes in weather that I most meditate on the power of God because He controls the wind with the sound of His voice the wind obeys.  I think of Jesus asleep on a boat in the middle of the ocean during the terrible storm, his apostles in utter fear wake him up and he simply commands the natural elements to behave and the tempest passes.  Or the story of creation (in the Book of Genesis) where the voice of God creates: the Creator says, “Let there be light,” and light comes into existence.  Just the sound of God’s voice carries power beyond our comprehension!  This natural phenomenon gives me hope because no matter the difficulties that I might be facing when I become aware of the power of God in controlling elements beyond anyone’s scope I realize that my tribulation is a piece of cake for Him.  Just like the storm that panicked the apostles my problems too will pass- and if I ask God for His assistance even better because He loves helping us out.

I am not one that can easily ask for help- it makes me uncomfortable relying on someone else.  When I do, I feel like I become a burden for them; even in prayer when I pray for myself- for my own intentions I struggle.  I feel like God only wants to listen to my intercessions, but when it’s about me he just doesn’t hear them.  Which of course is a lie because Jesus constantly told us to ask God for everything.  I think of the rain and how happy the flowers, trees and plants are to receive sustenance and am reminded that accepting help is an act of humility of recognizing my smallness and in doing so allowing another to shine in service.  We are all interconnected including creation- the beautiful home God created for us- this interconnectedness makes us dependent on one another.  In this country of individualism, God reminds us that in order to exist in harmony we all need one another.  In recognizing our smallness we become aware of His absolute power and that is pretty liberating (smile).

Little by Little

I read that because dogs only have short years to live they don’t squander their time – utilizing their days to give love, “because time is limited, there is no time to be unhappy.”  To further that thought, I believe that dogs don’t waste days hiding how they feel.  Every day when I arrive home Dollar acts like it’s the best day of his life – meeting me at the door, tail dancing in the air.  He follows me while I place my things down and if I don’t stop to acknowledge him with a warm caress he lets out a dramatic cry, which always makes me laugh.  When I am home he follows me like a second shadow resting only when I sit. He’s always aware of where I am at, ready to come to my assistance too innocent to let pride get in the way of him displaying his love and admiration.  I envy that he can so easily wear his heart on his sleeve without fear of rejection, it’s as if in his world rejection has no meaning, but maybe it’s because he’s always belonged to a loving a family.  Am sure animals that are abused eventually shut down, just like humans who have been hurt build walls to protect themselves.

I have been reading CS Lewis’ The Problem of Pain, in it he makes this assertion that people do not lack self-love.  For example, if my tooth is hurting I go to the dentist to correct the problem- if I didn’t love myself I would not address the pain choosing to suffer instead.  It is so that my life is full of decisions that keep me from hurt.  From a young age we all learn to keep safe- while in our youth the pain we protect ourselves is mostly physical (scraped knees, electrocution, burns, etc.) as we grow up we realize that the emotional and psychological ails, hurt just as much if not more.  With each rejection I add a brick to my wall of defenses and before I know it I am really good at not showing my emotions.  In my life I have experienced all types of pain, the type of hurt that leave scars so deep that without God I don’t think I would have been able to heal - some wounds are still in the process of healing.  For many years I was afraid to show my feelings because I felt like I wouldn’t be able to cope with any more rejection.  I still personalize rejection- believing the first thoughts that come when I have been refused: “you’re not good enough, something is wrong with you, you will never find happiness…” 

Sometimes I still find myself believing those negative emotions because I can be quite sensitive, but just like my little wolf whimpers when I ignore him - I "sigh" and God comes to my assistance.  When I am experiencing self-doubt and anxiety I run to God- sometimes I go to Chapel and talk to him, other times I go out into nature and remind myself that God controls bigger things so he can more than handle my silly problems and if I really need to quiet my mind I pick up a faith book to push the negative feelings out with Truth: “I am enough, nothing is wrong with me and I am for the most part happy…”  I’ve never been good at showing my affection to people of the opposite sex (I am a survivor of sexual molestation), but God is teaching me that not all men are evil and that I need to let my guard down if I want someone to come thru, sometimes the urge to protect myself overpowers my desire to let others in, but God reminds me “poco a poco” after all Rome wasn’t built in a day (smile).       

Love Delights in the Beloved

When you care about someone even watching him sleep is satisfying- just knowing he exists and is part of your life makes one smile.  I came to this epiphany as I watched my little wolf laying at my feet lost in dream.  In life, many times we are judged by our performance, a teacher once told me that no one likes to hear about failures, in literature as in film the stories that are most memorable involve the hero’s journey, a plight of action and adventure...  Often times I feel like I am the sum of my success; but, when I am home with the ones that love me most I know that in love performance doesn’t exist.  God gave us the capacity to love, He made this beautiful emotion to connect us with one another and with Him.  Yet, love is a choice that popularly gets hidden in romanticism as a miraculous feeling that suddenly appears.  When I was young I used to think that my parents loved me because they had to, but as I grew up and met people from broken families I began to see that my parents love was a choice both made to love me unconditionally- even during moments when I was difficult and challenging to love.  I also used to think that love was flowers and chocolates and poems- all things sweet- a definition that only reached the superficial lining of this beautiful gift.

In my parents’ relationship, I didn’t see a whole lot of romantic expressions, thus my role models of love came from fiction.  I made it a study watching every romantic comedy, reading all the romantic classical novels and I craved to have a Romeo and Juliet (without the dying) kind of love - one that was always exciting, dramatic and so full of passion, even if it was short-lived.  I was looking for a unicorn in matters of love, not even a magical expression – but a love that didn’t penetrate past the surface.  As soon as there was a feeling of normalcy of ordinary- it was no longer the ideal.  Looking at love stories in popular culture and how they usually only get told until the object of their affections is caught, some even make it to the wedding, but few speak of what comes after- I come to realize that to many - love is just the chase and the imaginative happily ever after.  When in reality love hurts, it aches, it breaks and throws you down in pits of the most painful suffering because to love is to open ourselves to discomfort and to hurt. I saw this type of love in my home, one that caused a lot of pain and I wanted to run away from it as soon as I was of age to do so.  However in my journey, I met a woman that told me that if I ran away from my family I would also be running from the source of my highest happiness because though love can throw you into the depths of despair love also lifts you to paradise.  Just look at Jesus, he came down from heaven and died for us so that we would be with him in paradise.  Our love stories, thus must emulate his, they should be unafraid of suffering, of sacrifice - but also have merriment as he enjoyed his friends when he walked this earth.

As I watched my little wolf sleep, looking at his tummy as it inflated and deflated, felt his breath on my skin - I wondered if God gets such delight in watching His creation, even when we repose.  Without doubt I know He does because when love is present there’s no need for performance, love dances simply because the beloved exists (smile).  True love seeks the beloved even when it hurts, even when we must travel in an unpaved road and suffer trampling in the unknown path because just being in His presence is enough -because hurt when shared is endurable.  The most intimate relationships require no action, no words just presence.  I think of the saints who could remain in God for long periods of time in silence, just happy to be in His company and I realize that when one reaches that level in a relationship one begins to understand love as a verb, but a verb where the action is simply union.  Togetherness in quiet, just joyful to exist together in one point in time, to look at the world (both the happy and the sad) and know that we have a partner in crime to face whatever peril will come.  Knowing our weak nature God gave us friends along the way to encourage and teach us about love- even a little yellow mutt whose fleeting years have been a university in unconditional love.  A little fur ball who's shown me that sometimes delighting in the beloved is the most beautiful form of love.  Animals have always spoken such deep truths to me and when I think of love now I think of finding a person who can be quiet with me- quite boring as opposed to the romantic notions that a young me craved for.  In the quiet so much is spoken, so much is revealed, so much healed...

My Favorite Franciscan Feast Days

This is one of my favorite weeks of the year because of the domino feast days: archangels, Saint Therese of Lisieux, guardian angels, Transitus and today Saint Francis of Assisi!  Every feast brings with it such beautiful traditions that invite us to look beyond the material world.  Two weeks after my brother died I got my home blessed, a priest came to the house and performed a blessing ritual during the ceremony he said something that I have since carried, “Many of us think that this home I am blessing is just that my home- but this is just a house on your way to your forever home in heaven.  Don’t make the error of living like this world is it, always remember that we are just passing by – visitors on our way to eternity.”  Coming from poverty, from living sardine style in a two bedroom apartment with eighteen other people- my dream was always to own a house.  When we moved into our house it was one of the happiest days of my life, having my own bedroom, a yard to read my books, enough space to spread my arms and just relax - felt like heaven on earth.  It was my house, a home I was no longer ashamed of full of people that made me the most happy.  We had achieved a great dream and now it was time to decorate and take pride in our accomplishment.  As excited as I was of my earthly home, Father was challenging me to think of the mansion that Jesus went to prepare for me where I would live forever in His presence with all those gone before me.  Once again I dreamed of a home, but one no longer requiring a mortgage, repairs, maintenance, or insurance in case of a natural disaster.  Father was alluding to life after death, the reason behind my conversion, the source of my hope that my brother was in a better place, a place I would one day hopefully arrive at- just like he had, only now he would be there to receive me when I exited the train towards heaven.

These feast days of the past few days remind me, that my days on earth are numbered that I have a forever destination and though that might sound morbid, Catholicism prepares us to meet Sister Death with hope of the future. Yesterday, as I sat in the pew participating in the Transitus prayer service at my local parish, the altar had sunflowers (which always connect me with my brother in heaven) and I thought of his death and the sadness I felt.  Which reminded of something I once read, “when we are born we come into the world crying and when we die we go with the crying sounds of those left behind.”  I wondered if babies know that they have entered into a temporal world and that’s why they cry and it made sense that when we die we go peacefully while the ones left behind cry…   

This week has two of my favorite Catholic traditions the Transitus Prayer Service or the vigil of the passing over of Saint Francis into heaven.  This feast is an important part of Franciscan spirituality because ideally Christians shouldn’t be afraid of death.  In remembering Saint Francis’ joyful end, turning his soul to the author of Love with such confidence we are invited to embrace our mortality with great trust that God is waiting for us, that all is not lost- that we are crossing over to God in the final mystery.  The service is absolutely beautiful - one that I look forward to every year and invite you to experience.

So beautifully set-up.

On a lighter note, as Saint Francis is one of those saints that has such depth of spirituality which stretches us into realms completely out of our comfort zone (death), he also elevates us into a happy celebration of life.  On his Feast Day, every October fourth, another tradition that I just adore is the blessing of the animals.  Bring your pet to church day!  Dollar and I have been participating in this short prayer ritual since we learned about it and we have nothing, but high reviews.  All pets are welcomed!  This year he wore his birthday suit and he was the belle of the ball, I thought it’d be funny to have him wear his Sunday’s best and it sure made a lot of people smile- mission accomplished.  Now you see why I love Saint Francis he elevates me to heaven, but teaches me to appreciate life here on earth because life or death both are a gift from God. 

I love this shot because you can see when Dollar receives the holy water and his demons leave him (LOL).

Gianna Club Paint & Wine Night

On Saturday, my Gianna Club hosted a paint and wine evening.  The sister of our leader is an artist and she helped us work on our very own interpretation of the Immaculate Heart of Mary.  Time flew in the company of such solid Catholic women...  Last month kicked off year two of the club, this time organized in a different manner.  Per the leader, we are calling each period a semester because each semester will include the reading of a book.  This club will feature a Christian book to initiate dialogue at each monthly meeting.  Instead of having a monthly speaker the book will serve as a way to spark discussion and foster sisterhood among our group.  Usually each monthly session (called “Water into Wine”) begins with light appetizers, wine and conversation before the whole group gathers to discuss the book.  I feel like it’s a very effective way to form friendships with other Catholic women because the whole night is shaped around conversation.  After our book discussion we get a prayer card where we write our intentions, then all the intentions are placed in a bowl and each person picks a prayer card before heading home.  Whoever I receive I must pray for her during the upcoming month and reach out to her to let her know that I am interceding on her behalf.

As these monthly meetings are more geared into growing in faith together, this year Gianna’s Club is also adding a social night each month.  For September our leader hosted at her home a wine and paint night.  Each person made a small contribution to cover material fees.  Since sometimes pictures speak louder than words I thought I would show you how the artistic night enfolded.

 Inspiration was the first stop- loved that our wine glasses had our name as a personal touch.

Light hors devours was provided, in my opinion the breaking of bread during a shared meal always invites people to relax and enjoy.  Food is great at helping us open up (smile).

Each of us received a blank canvas and a picture of our objective.

The artist (in black) walked around our tables giving us tips on how to achieve a better painting.

 At our tables we did a fine job encouraging one another.

Each piece looked quite unique, showing us the diversity of the Holy Spirit at work in each of us.

The night helped solidify old friendships and begin new ones.

My final product.

Next month’s social evening will be a clothing swap, and for this recycle loving gal- that sounds fantastic! If you want to learn more about the club here's the link Gianna Club.  I have been a fan of the club since I first learned about it because it's not defined by age or marital status, all women are welcomed.