Learning to Love the Rosary

I used to hate the prayer of the rosary.  From a young age I equated it with death since funerals were the only place that I ever heard the recitation.  When my grandma on my mother’s side died, I was five-years-old.  The night she died, as the family prayed the rosary, I was taken by mom to say good bye to my grandma, and I remember being terrified of the dead body; yet, mom made me go up to it, kiss and say goodbye.  After, I remember sitting through the novena watching my mother cry and mourn her loss. At that impressionable age, I didn’t understand fully what was happening, I just saw the daily gathering of the pueblo women to recite these prayers that made mom cry.  For a young child, nine days seemed like an eternity and I just wanted the praying days to end so that I would return to my normal life where mom was happy.  When my brother died, a group of women also gathered in my home to pray a novena for his repose and again I chose to leave the house so that I wasn’t present during the prayers.  Every day, I would grab Dollar and off we would disappear. 

As I explored the Christian faith, I learned in the non-Catholic churches I attended that reciting prayers written by other people was unheard off, God wants to hear us “in our own words” was the message I received.  “He especially delights in the prayers of new Christians who are still so humble that they haven’t picked up cliché phrases to make their prayers sound better,” I was told.  Thus, I got really good at having conversations with God, of telling Him using my own language my needs and hurts.  However, in moments of true desolation, when I had nothing to say I found that something was lacking.  As I reverted to the Catholic faith, I realized that the prayer of the rosary really helped when I was speechless in the presence of God.  I saw in my Jovenes Para Cristo community that the rosary was not just prayed in funerals, but was a highly favored prayer by the Church with mysteries that were joyful and luminous too.  I heard it prayed with the accompaniment of music and in community and I began to understand its beauty and power.

In my family we never gathered to pray, even though my mother is a very devout Catholic, she usually would just step away daily to pray her rosary privately.  As I have gotten older, I try to live my best life now and this is how the idea of planning a one night a week family prayer gathering came to me.  This year has been a challenging one for my family and I, thus, I invited them all to a Thursday rosary prayer moment.  We have been gathering to pray the rosary for each of our needs now for a little over a month and I can already see blessings from these short prayer moments.  Sometimes our own words are insufficient and having a guide to help us be in communion with God is such a blessing.   We all gather and in one voice we praise God and leave our petitions at His feet knowing that He will provide for our needs.  Thursdays are the luminous mysteries, mysteries that fill us with hope - to see God in each of the mysteries and reflect on holy his life is so encouraging.  I have learned that the rosary is quite a perfect prayer not only perfect for funerals, and novenas, but also to pray daily as a source of sustenance and that’s what I am trying to pass onto my family- though I am pretty sure they already new that.

Taking the Time to Getaway

Father was sharing how Catholics don’t believe in retreats anymore.  He said that twenty-five percent of the people that used Serra Retreat Campus are professionals, twenty-five percent non-Christians, twenty- five percent protestants and only twenty-five percent Catholic.  I found his statistics a little shocking because I try to go on a weekend retreat once a year and I thought most Catholics did the same.  Though I have never paid attention, I think the retreat center is not the only one that struggles with getting Catholics to sign up.  At the Sacred Heart Retreat House in Alhambra, I’ve also seen the sisters over promote their campus to be able to run their home.  If one is new to the faith a retreat does sound a bit odd, and they can seem expensive because usually people think that all faith-based programs should be free.  Yet, the small fee goes into running the center so that we can all have access to beautiful places of worship where we can leave behind the world to encounter Christ.

I think that for me, my first retreat was the pivotal point in my faith journey.  At the time I was still very new to faith, I remember that I drove my car to Big Bear thinking if these people try to brain wash me, I will get in my car in the middle of the night and disappear.  Though I had a getaway plan- I never felt the need to use it, in fact when the retreat was over, I didn’t want to return to my life I craved to stay in the mountains with God.  In those mountain grounds, miracles occurred I had an encounter with God that began years of healing to come.  Every time I go on retreat – the same happens, I go up in need of His salvific waters and He never disappoints to give me drink.

This last retreat, my friend who is a quarter Papago Indian planned a prayer moment just for me.  In her culture labyrinths are used to show the journey through life with all the twists and turns.  She explained how we all have a path we must walk and how a block in the road is not seen negatively, but rather a way to direct our course towards the center.  The maze design symbolizes the choices we make in our journey through life.  In reaching the center we look back reflecting on all the choices that got us to there.  Usually people carry objects with them to leave at the center- she gave me a rock she painted and asked me to pray for all the things that I wanted to leave at God’s feet.  When I reached the center, she used a horn to call on the four winds.  I found this unique way of prayer to be so enlightening and enriching.  I always associated labyrinths with pagan worship, yet the way she introduced me to her culture I found so special.  God really transcends all human barriers.

Each retreat that I have been on has filled me with blessings.  It has fortified my faith and encouraged me in my path with God.  Thus, if you haven’t given yourself the opportunity to go on retreat, make the effort to leave behind all with the desire to encounter God.  He is patiently waiting.

Introverts and Expressing Emotions

When I was in fifth grade, I confided in a friend that I liked this boy.  While I trusted that she would keep it to herself, she went and told the boy.  After learning about my feelings, this boy chased me into the girl’s bathroom shouting that he didn’t like me back including some not very nice things.  I have always been a sensitive person, an introvert to the core and having such a public display of rejection traumatized me for life.  So, if I had crushes, I kept them to myself for fear of this reoccurring.  I excelled in keeping my emotions hidden, so much so that I am certain none of the guys I’ve liked have ever had the slightest suspicion of my attraction.  I saw friends catching men’s attention and smiling when they locked eyes- I saw them getting drinks bought and finding relationships and even though I frequented the same pubs I never left with anyone’s number.  I was too afraid or maybe too proud to dare lock eyes with anyone.

Late in college after too many drinks I asked a guy why I wasn’t getting approached, "am I that unattractive," I spilled.  He looked deeply at me and said, "guys don’t approach you because all of you screams "don’t come my way." You sit at the bar without smiling or ever look at the direction of a man to express interest.  Guys need a little encouragement to take a leap your way.  They need to know that they can come towards you with low odds of rejection."  Though I pondered at his advice, I found that somehow, I was damaged that way- that my fear of rejection prohibited me from showing any sign of interest… 

Fast-forward to today, I am still terrified of rejection, but my faith is teaching me to set aside that fear because if I am interested in someone, I have to express that interest to motivate him and vice versa.  Lately, I’ve had a lot of time to pray and God is showing me that my worth is given to me by Him; thus, if I get rejected, I am not any less me.  I am not any less valuable.  He’s also slowly filing away insecurities and showing me how showing interest looks on me.  And going to a bar, locking eyes and smiling is not my thing because I don’t want flings, I want a friendship that will hopefully turn into more.  Yet, even in a friendship there has to be little signs of encouragement otherwise as Pablo Neruda beautifully put it:

“If little by little you stop loving me / I shall stop loving you little by little / If suddenly you forget me / do not look for me for I shall already forgotten you”     

I love this poem because it expresses so beautifully that any type of relationship depends on both parties investing in one another.  In showing each other interest.  The friendship thrives when both parties give of one another.  I also love it because the narrator captures a possible end with hope, not crumbling in pain:

"I shall lift my arms / and my roots will set off / to seek another land"

 Siempre adelante, trusting in God's plan.  Our faith shows us that even for introverts like me have difficulty expressing interest, through the fostering of friendship one can slowly let those barriers down, confident in God's plan for our lives.

Manifestations of God in My Life

After my RCIA end of the year bash, I went to Mass at Holy Spirit Parish to unite with the Church in celebration of Pentecost, the birthday of our Catholic Church.  I was able to witness for the first time in my life (on this Feast Day) fourteen people being Confirmed; thus, being fully initiated into the body of Christ.  In all my life, I had never had the honor to be present during a confirmation ritual on Pentecost.  Witnessing this holy moment in the lives of my brothers and sisters- reminded me and my life and the third person of the trinity.  From the very beginning of my reversion- the Holy Spirit has been the force that has changed my life and inspired my mind and heart to an ongoing conversion.

Pope Francis constantly speaks about the importance of an encounter with God in the lives of believers.  For me the Holy Spirit has been the one that has always led me to Christ.  When my brother was dying in the ER, I went outside and was sitting on the curb outside begging God for a sign of His existence.  It was a muggy day and all of the sudden this great, misty wind shook the leaves of the trees and enveloped me in the tightest embrace.  It was a different type of wind, one that took with it my hopelessness and began a fire deep within me.  At the time I had no knowledge that biblically the wind is synonymous with the Holy Spirit, it took me awhile to learn that God comes to us in creation – sometimes through a powerful gust of wind.  Since, I have had these moments when I am in deep prayer and I feel His wind surround me- and it comes in areas where wind just doesn’t make sense.  In an enclosed space without air conditioning, on a hot day when everything is still, in the small, confined chapel… 

It happens most often when I need a spiritual reboot, when things are going crazy and I am fighting so hard to not lose my peace. Things here have been quite challenging lately and not because I am looking for a job, but because those I love are facing critical moments in their lives and I can’t do anything to alleviate their pain other than to prayerfully be present.  Yet, when I am becoming overwhelmed, I turn to God and He always lets me know that He is with me.  Sometimes, I kneel to pray and close my eyes so that I can better concentrated- I disclose the state of my heart and when I really need it, I feel this cool wind surround me.  These manifestations tell me He is with me, that I am not alone and that my troubles too shall pass.  It’s as if I am Popeye receiving a can of spinach that my skin absorbs until my inner most being has a strength only activated by God.  I the rational- who constantly seeks proof to grow in my faith – believe wholeheartedly that Christ left us the Paraclete to guide and inspire; to love and to strengthen…  That’s probably why I love Pentecost Sunday- because on that day the whole Church felt His power and through it the world changed forever.

Sacrament of Marriage In Healing Our Society

Yesterday, I treated myself to an event where Scott Hahn spoke on the Sacrament of Marriage.  He is promoting his new book The First Society in which he explains that Catholic marriage is the answer to bettering society.  I come from a family where my parents just celebrated their fiftieth wedding anniversary and their commitment to the Sacrament has really inspired how my siblings and I think about matrimony.  Recently, my mom was sharing that early in her marriage she packed her belongings and took my brother (her only child at the time) and sought refuge at her mother’s home.  Mom said that as the end of the day came to a close my grandma asked mom to go home because it was getting late and mom responded that she was leaving my dad.  My grandma then said, “daughter, I warned you long before you married him that he was an alcoholic and that you were going to suffer because of it and you made your choice to marry him.  So, now go home and be a good wife.”  This would be the last time that my mother would try to leave my dad.  

For years she suffered the neglect and alcoholism of my father.  These were bleak years in which she saw dad squander money, get into bar fights, come home in state of disarray from falling in drunkenness, bring his drunk buddies and expect my mom to serve them, neglect his parental duties…  Mom suffered silently and as I grew into a teenager, I resented her for staying with my dad even when he was so utterly selfish…  Yet, as time passed- as I grew into an adult, I saw the sanctification of my mother and through her self-denial and prayerful persistence the transformation of my father.  She has taught me that marriage is for life and a choice that sometimes doesn’t feel great- but always chooses the beloved.  That there are times (even years) in marriage where it sucks, but if you survive these difficult moments all is worth it.  My dad would come to recover from his alcoholism and to this date he’s been sober for twenty plus years.  These years have allowed me to see a transformation that sometimes I still have to pinch myself to accept that I have the most amazing father.    

These past years, have been the golden years in my parents' marriage.  I see them together and it warms my heart because after fifty years they are more in love than ever.  My dad has changed so much, he constantly boasts about my mother and how lucky he is to have her. Yet, his actions are what most impress me.  He’s always thinking about how to lighten her load and constantly showers her with flowers and sweet words.  What he didn’t do as a young man in wooing mom, he does now and he’s more than made up for all the suffering he inflicted. 

Scott Hahn spoke about the importance for married couples to share with others that in matrimony there will be huge challenges and times when the spouses feel like huge failures.  I have seen this in my parents’ relationship; yet, I have also seen them triumph and to finally fall rhythmically into a harmonious place side-by-side.  It’s difficult to reach fifty years of marriage even harder to reach it madly in love as my parents are- but if I have learned one thing from them is that love is a choice.  Love is not a feeling that wears off when the serotonin levels in the brain level, it's a choice perhaps the most difficult choice – to choose daily, love above all. It is through this relationship of the two that my family is so close knit - my parents are the foundation that constantly brings us together in joy or adversity.  Thus, when I hear that Catholic marriage has the power to heal society- I completely agree.     

Bumping into Fat Friar Jacques

During my retreat weekend I came across a jolly fat friar sculpture in one of the Serra Retreat Gardens.  He reminded me of Friar Jacques from the famous nursery rhyme and thus I baptized him as such, since there was no name tag on him.  This perfectly round character gave me so much to ponder because from any angle that you look at him, Friar Jacques is quite round.  Yet, his smile and arms lifted in a position of prayer or open to take you in a warm embrace really spoke to me.  So much so that I asked my friend to take a picture of me with him, so that when I am having low self-esteem days, I can remember that it’s ok to be chubby.  I think that every year I write a post on weight and it seems like I get nowhere in the department of losing usually because I give priority to other things instead of working out.  That combined with the Seroquel that I take for my bipolar makes it almost impossible to lose an inch.  Recently, I was doing research on people with bipolar and weight loss and found that most people on Seroquel find it impossible to lose weight because the medication is to blame.  Thus, I have been thinking long and hard about whether I should change my medications. 

The encounter with Friar Jacques, helped me because even chubbies belong to God and can do a whole lot of good.  Sometimes people with weight issues easily postpone things in wishful thinking- I won’t do or attend that until I am a size smaller.  I know that I have thought that plenty of times, especially when it’s a reunion and I haven’t seen a person in a while- in the back of my mind I am afraid of their judgment, “Wow, Penny has gained weight…”  The thing is that even when I was at my smallest, (size 7/8) I still struggled with weight issues.  I always thought I was fat- even when I was at a healthy weight.  I see pictures of myself from those days and I think how in the world did I think that I was fat then?  Back then it was probably because I was addicted to reading Fashion Magazines and the women in those pages were all a size 0.  I felt like I didn’t reflect the type of beauty those periodicals sold.  Obviously, it also went deeper with the abuse I experience as a child and this feeling of ugliness that it gave me.

Now as adult, I have made peace with a lot of the psychological issues that I grew up having, but I still struggle with self-image mostly because of the weight I have gained due to the bipolar medication that I take.  For the longest time my motto has been fat-but mentally healthy.  Yet, I know that I can try to be both physically and mentally healthy.  I haven’t decided (it’s a huge decision) if I am changing my meds, but I will continue to live my best life always.  Bumping into fat ol’ Friar Jacques really helped me understand that I need to be content with myself whether slim or plump.  I have a body that is round, but healthy and I need to be thankful for it instead of ashamed by it.  While I strive to lose the pounds, I also need to strive to accept me because as I age my body is going to go through many changes and I need to learn that no matter what physical changes occur I am worthy and capable of blessing the world with my existence.  I looked at the chubby friar and his whole person emanated jolliness, he looked like he really enjoyed life so much so that he didn’t allow issues with self-image to negate him of life’s beauty.  I still look at the photo I took of him and I can’t help, but smile- so many lessons learned from this fat brother (smile).   

Retreat Insights

If you are blessed to go on retreats often you are aware that there are different types even when the goal is the same, leaving it all behind to encounter God.  The one I attended this past weekend was extremely social- since it was a reunion of all the Franciscan Fraternities in Southern California and people were seeing each other for the first time in the span of a year I understood their giddiness. Nevertheless, I was surprised that there was so much conversation and social gatherings each night.  When I picked up my roommate as I was helping her place her things in my trunk, I noticed a bag with two bottles of wine, surprised I slipped, “What kind of retreat am I going to?”  She chuckled, “A Franciscan one.”  Every night closed with a social, where people shared wine, snacks and conversation.  It was really a great time.

Yet, I missed having Mass and adoration daily or the opportunity for confession.  I think that after attending many retreats I do enjoy the ones with more time devoted to prayer.  One of my sister’s said, “You might be Franciscan in heart, but Carmelite when it comes to retreats.”  On my last night, I left the social early to walk the grounds and spend some time alone in prayer.  I went to the point, where a huge cross and a life size Father Serra stands illuminating the great view of Malibu reaching all the way to the ocean.  I took out my cell phone and put on a religious song then I closed my eyes and listened to the music mixed in with the crickets, frogs and other sounds of my surroundings.  I could feel His caress as the wind stroked my face. 

While lost in prayer, I recalled when Jesus is tempted in the Judaean Desert by Satan. Being at highest point of the retreat house reminded of Jesus also being taken to the highest point of town.  First, Satan, asks Jesus to jump then offers the riches below.  This experience of momentarily seeing Jesus at the top of world refusing the devils proposals spoke deep to my heart because God showed me that in my darkness though I am tempted to give in to the negativity, hopelessness and plain darkness - Jesus has shown me better.  Tears streamed down my face as I realized that my struggles (the hurts that I am feeling now) have purpose.  I can surrender to adversity, to Satan telling me that God is not present during the dark night of the soul or I can offer them to God with great faith that nothing is impossible for Him.  If Jesus declined, I must too.  I thought of him tired and hungry refusing to have any consolation that did not come from His Father and I asked God to give me that type of faith - the type that doesn’t tremble when life gets challenging. 

Even though the retreat didn’t have as many opportunities for community prayer as I am accustomed to, I realize that grounds are equally important in helping us enter into the heart of God.  Serra Retreat had so many special nooks and crannies with Franciscan saints and Holy Family shrines that I still had a prayerful time in the presence of God.  How could I not with so much natural beauty (smile).

Saint Francis Kindred Spirits

Since I returned to the faith, I have a spiritual practice of attending a weekend retreat once a year.  For three days I leave my worries behind seeking God for nurture, renewal, healing and just to be with Him alone without any distractions.  These weekend encounters have become a definite need in my life for so many reasons and I do believe that everyone should make the time to unplug and seek God in a quiet place in community.  The past three years or so I have been going to the Sacred Heart Retreat House for a women’s silent retreat, but this year I was encouraged by my fraternity to attend the Regional Franciscan Retreat in Malibu.  Thus, Friday morning I picked a couple friends and we all headed up to Serra Retreat House to spend our weekend with other Secular Franciscans from Southern California.

I do love Saint Francis and all weekend long I learned so much about him and his spirituality – I truly felt like he accompanied me during my stay.  He gave me a new sense of what it means to be holy.  The root of the word holy means, “separate” or to be set apart for God.  To have a desire to be a saint and this wanting will push me to be what God created me to be.  I found it so refreshing how saint Francis follows in the steps of Jesus, but the journey is Francis’ and the steps he takes belong to him.  For the longest time, I was terrified of losing my identity in my quest for God, of becoming a clone as Nietzsche often described Christians.  Yet, the saints teach us that though we must imitate Christ, we are not copies of one another because each of us is unique.  God created each of us without using a cookie cutter mold, making only one of each.  Our saints reflect real people that were tremendously different individuals, but their desire to be what God created each to be was what made them the same.

God chose me before the world began and He craves that I will choose Him too.  Yet, my yes is so special because though I must follow in the footsteps of Jesus or even imitate the path of a dear saint the journey belongs to me alone.  In my journey I make Jesus’ values my own and it is this personal quest that doesn’t make me a copy, but an original person walking in the steps of our Lord.  Francis exhorts us to model ourselves after him, but more like kindred spirits and not bad copies of him because there’s only one Saint Francis.  He leads us to ask how do I make this journey, these values my own?  I must follow Jesus and the path has been carved by so many saints before me, but the steps in the journey will always belong to me (wow).

Family Rosary Group

My prayer life fluctuates, but one thing is certain - I enjoy having conversations with God as I would a friend.  When I am going through a struggle, I usually seek Him as I would a friend and just talk to Him using my own words.  If something is really bothering me, I journal.  When I write things down usually, I get to the root of the problem and discovering the cause of my struggle leads to finding a solution and developing a plan of action.  Sometimes life throws at us problems that cannot be addressed in any other way than prayer.  I have organized a family rosary praying group once a week because where two or more are gathered together in His name, there God is in the midst of them.  Sometimes troubles pour, but that’s no reason to hide in defeat.  I know that the greatest moments of my transformation happened during difficulties, the greatest moments of my faith growing - of my trust in God increasing happened during the dark nights of the soul.   

Though I enjoy spontaneous dialogue with God, I also have a great devotion to the rosary.  Sometimes my words are inadequate or just lacking- it is then that I turn to the rosary to pray and meditate on the mysteries of our Lord.  For many who are not used to speaking with God, repetitive prayers help initiate this dialogue or when one is stumped and out of words this form of prayer allows the conversation to begin.  From my own personal experience, when my heart is heavy, sometimes I have no words to express, so moving from rosary bead to rosary bead reciting these beautiful prayers allows me to enter into the heart of God. 

When I pray the rosary in community, I am better able to focus on the prayers.  Everyday, before morning Mass there’s a group that prays the rosary inside my parish – sometimes I make it on time to pray it and I love that this form of prayer can be done alone or in community.  It is this group, that gave me the idea to start my own rosary group with my family.  I sent the invitation to all members and they accepted.  I know that this action in our lives is going to bring many blessings and am excited to make this a family habit- so that during the hard times we don’t crumble, but seek the Lord with strong faith that He has it all under control.

Walking Through the Desert

I have been going through a dry period, some challenges at home with those that I love most have really affected me emotionally.  Even so, I have been going to daily Mass and when I arrive, I tell God, “am here Lord, even though I don’t feel like it.”  Usually I find my greatest consolation in receiving the Eucharist, though I am going against my emotions when I receive the Eucharist a spark of hope is renewed and I can accept walking through the desert because bits of my future in Eden are revealed.  This past Sunday, I went to Spanish Mass and as I arrived, I greeted God with the above sentiment adding that I needed His guidance.  I waited and during the Gospel reading I felt like the part where Jesus says, “I give you a new commandment: love one another.  As I have loved you, so you also should love one another,” was for me.  Following the reading Father gave such a great homily warning us not to accept the diluted definition given by modern society that love is a feeling.  “Love is a choice,” he said, “it’s persevering even when the rosy feelings are not present… It’s loving your brother when you don’t feel like it…”  Mother Teresa used to say that the solution was usually to put more love into things.  Most of the time my reaction is to withdraw – to find a safe haven to protect me from hurt. 

Over the weekend, I was able to attend Mass in the Ordinariate Form for a couple of friends who got married.  Again, during the homily, the priest exhorted us to love the way God taught - to understand that suffering is part of loving, and suffering for each other is the greatest gift.

On Sunday, during RCIA we held a celebration for one of our students who after twenty-eight-years of living with her significant other was united in Holy Matrimony.  The husband joined our student to celebrate with the class.  We had a first dance, a toast, cake and gifts as part of the festivity.  Before the celebration began, the couple wanted to share some words and I was really moved by what the husband had to say.  He admitted that he had hurt his wife and children a great deal because he was machista, but after finding God and being molded by Him -he changed.  His testimony really moved me because again he was declaring that love is a choice that requires active renewal and to press on even when our feelings betray us. To continue living our faith even when we don’t feel any consolation because eventually the desert will pass. If I may ask for your prayers for my family, thank you.