My True Home

Some moments in the year feel heavier when they have been marked by loss. I know for me every November there’s this gray shadow that just sits in place.  It just shows up around the same time and just sits there, a reminder of something tragic, but also a testament to great love.  When I was younger, I couldn’t wait to grow up and leave my family because my teenage heart felt like I couldn’t handle the pain of being part of such a dysfunctional family.  One day, I was so upset that I shared this with my mentor, she in her wise age told me- you’re only thinking of the pain that you would avoid, but you would miss out on all of the joy.  That was the beginning of my education - only those that know great pain can also know great love, these two disciplines live side by side to illuminate the power of love. 

God calls us to be happy, and though I try my best to live contently every November the shadow comes and drops reminding me of the separation between siblings that began one Fall day.  I used to agonize over the sadness that comes during those weeks, but now I use the shadow to remind me of why I believe.  My faith is strongest when I think of death and when I know that even if it comes and it shatters my heart, that one day I will be reunited.  At first, I used to think that I would be reunited with my loved one and that gave me utter joy and satisfaction- until one priest said, “what about Jesus?”  Now when I think of my reunion with those that have gone before me, I also think about Jesus and Mary and all the saints that I have gotten to know and the longing for the life to come intensifies.

We are all just passing by, this house that we call our home is temporal and a crumb of sand compared to the home that waits for us in heaven.  That’s why I believe, that’s why I reverted and in November I think about it more deeply and the shadow that comes serves as a reminder of the world to come…   

Degrees of Prayer :o)

Last week two parents showed up at my school wanting to speak with me to inform me that their daughter (former student who recently graduated) had suffered a brain aneurysm.  They shed some tears and showed me a picture of her in her hospital bed.  They were like if God left her alive then that means she’s going to heal.  Since they brought God up into the conversation, I told them about Saint Peregrine’s Chapel at the mission, I told them that they should stop by and light a votive while seeking his intercession. 

When I was a little girl in Mexico, I remember my mom going to our parish daily and sometimes lighting votives.  I especially recall the fresh match smell and to this day I love the scent of matches it conjures such warm memories.  Today, in my house we have paschal candles that we light when we are going through difficult times, have important meetings, or as a sign of intercession for family or friends.  We also light it on significant occasions, especially when a loved one is dying or has died. 

Though, lighting a candle as a way to engage the mind in prayer is a good habit to have, to me lighting a votive has deeper meaning.  I either light one for deep felt intercessions or sometimes in thanksgiving for prayers answered.  Though some family members who are not Catholic have warned me that it’s superstitious thing to do and that God only requires a personal relationship – I do believe that sacramentals are important in deepening faith.  When I have challenges where I feel like things are so out of my control, it calms me to take that secondary action to light a candle as an expression of how deep I am relying on God.  Only special prayers are accompanied by the light. Only those prayers where I know my limitations and need to express to God in a way that words cannot do I light a votive.  The more serious the intention the more steps that I take to show God my need of Him.  When I feel desperate, then lighting one at home is not enough.  I must go to my parish and light one in the house of the Lord.

When I travel I am so thankful for the churches that still have the candles that require a match. In the area where I live most are electronic and light up at the push of a button.  To me there’s something quite spiritual in lighting that match, watching the smoke of the match dissolve into thin air in its place the flame illuminating my hopes.  I also really like the parishes that have candle stations in front of various saints because then I go crazy and ask the communion of saints to intercede like good friends to our God.  This weekend, I lit a candle for my student at the parish where I attended Mass and it gave me such a sense of relief, that though I cannot do much for my student I have a God who works miracles.      

The Saint Francis Challenge

I needed motivation to get active and I heard of walking challenges so I decided to do a little research and see if there was an app that would connect me with some kind of physical activity to keep me accountable and most of all inspired.  That’s when I started looking into The Conqueror Application.  I downloaded it and was browsing through the trails that it provides, when I noticed that on the list were some spiritual treks.  There was of course the Camino de Santiago, but my heart skipped a beat when I saw that one of the called the Saint Francis Way.  My fingers were too quick to click on the description and as I read that the challenge would take me on a virtual 312 miles trek following the footsteps of my favorite Saint across the beautiful Italian countryside, I was quick to sign up for it.

I am now about a week into the challenge, and I am totally motivated to continue using the app until I reach my goal of arriving at the Vatican in Rome.  The app lets you decide on the pace you would like to go and I decided to set a goal of walking those miles in about three months because this is my first challenge and I want to make sure that I stick with it.  Every day, it takes the information from my Fitbit and calculates how far I have traveled.  On a map it shows my beginning point and how far away I have gone from it, it also shows points on the map where other travelers are at the virtual trek.  I can choose if I want to get involved in chatting with the rest of the people on the app, or whether I just want to walk on my own.  So far, I haven’t bee interreacting with the others and I prefer it that way, but it’s nice to see my progress as measured with the others for some reason it helps to keep me accountable and motivated.  There are virtual walkers who are going slow like me and others at a faster or even slower pace and that makes it a little competitive which sometimes I need.

The great thing about the app is that it also has, what it calls postcards and these cards come along every few miles and describe the place where you are and a little about Saint Francis (which I love the most)! I really enjoy that I am trying to get physically motivated, but also that I can add spirituality to the notion.  This just makes the trek, that much more special.  I feel like everyday I am on this journey with Saint Francis and we are in this together.  This is not just a challenge about getting physically active this is also about connecting with a spiritual giant and trying to learn more about him as I walk in his footsteps.  At the end of the challenge, the company will mail me a medal to commemorate my achievement. So far, I am really enjoying the process and I am thinking that it won’t be the only virtual pilgrimage that I go on, but for it being my first who better to go with me than Brother Francis!     

https://www.theconqueror.events/all-challenges/

Making the Time for Creativity

This year I want more to be more intentional about being creative.  For the past Covid years I have been living life trying to balance all the implications that an pandemic added to my life.  My job became so hectic that it eclipsed everything else.  This year, I have picked up this new motto that no work is coming home with me, that includes my thoughts, I will not fixate on all the things that I need to finish for school once I leave the site.  I have been using this technique, since I returned to work after Christmas Break and I am noticing that such a small change is really making quite a difference in my day to day.  I don’t feel this overwhelming shroud over me anymore because I am learning to compartmentalize things or maybe I am learning to set boundaries. 

All it took was something my boss said during our staff holiday lunch.  In her annual speech she said that she hoped we realized that there was more to work and to try to live our lives knowing that our family, loved ones and ourselves deserved our dedication too.  I had been so focused on my students and offering the best services possible and that became my entire focus and I was so miserable!  I felt like a robot only living to get my kids graduated during such uncertain times- this meant giving up on everything else because all of my energy was focused on doing a good job.  So, during break I began to do things that I hadn’t done since Covid hit and I realized that the more I balanced my life the more I felt like a balanced human being.

I finally restored a vintage, seventies Bottega Veneta bag that I found at The Salvation Army a couple years ago.  The bag had a big black ink stain to the faded tan leather and I knew that a dye job would restore it for another round of life.  I was able to dust my brushes and dye bottles during my time off and spend a whole day just working on the leather and bringing the bag back to its former glory.  It’s as if restoring this bag, helped reignite a fire that had burned out by the pandemic.  I began to get excited about equally frivolous things – like working on more leather projects and I felt joy.  Thus, I continued making small changes and I those small changes have reaffirmed that life needs to be about more than just work (smile).   

My Parents Wedding Rings

Last year, for my birthday I took my parents to the circus.  As I was driving us there, I told my parents, "This is the other way around instead of you taking me to the circus as a child, I am taking you guys." We laughed and recalled our humble childhood and closed the conversation grateful that we no longer live paycheck to paycheck... When I started this blog I lamented how I always wanted to have an heirloom passed on to me, but my parents had a limited beginning too. My mom often tells us (and I can hear the pain in her voice), "When your dad and I got married we didn't even have enough to take a single picture. During those times most people went without all the extras including rings."  Thus, when they had their 50th wedding anniversary I made sure to give them a professional photo session. It was such a heartwarming experiencing seeing them take those too long awaited photographs.

This Christmas, I was thinking what can I give them? Thanks be to God our fortunes have changed and materially we are blessed.  Then, I got this idea and I told my siblings about it and as a family we got our parents their wedding rings!  On Christmas Day, we were all so much more excited about what we gave then opening any presents.  When my mom opened her jewelry box and saw that she had both the engagement ring and wedding band that she had been secretly dreaming of (but never asked for) she leaped into my dad's arms like a lovestruck teenager.  My dad seeing her happiness wondered why we hadn't thought of this gift sooner.  And when you think that men are not into romance and details, let my dad's excitement when he put his band on be a testament that men are just as taken by traditional signals of love.  Unfortunately, we didn't get the right size rings and had to take them to the jewelry store to get them sized and we have to wait a few weeks to get them back.

I was sharing with a friend one of the best moments of my Christmas, and she was like, "so you married your parents there in your living room."  We of course didn't do that, but it was such a heartfelt moment to see these two lovebirds well over fifty years into their marital sacrament, look at each other with a love only stronger, deeper and most true - celebrate a ritual that had been missing, but never lacking has been their joyful-love and commitment for one another.  -- This year, I learned that while I have been making up all the things that I missed out on as an impoverish child, I can do the same with my folks.  I can help make their dreams come true, like a good fairy daughter (smile grande).      

Rollercoaster Weekend

It’s been a bit of a rollercoaster weekend.  It all began with the emotional highs of celebrating my nephew’s 15^th birthday! We celebrated him along with ten of his friends at Fountain Valley Bowl.  The years have gone too quickly, just yesterday I was afraid to hold him in my arms because he was a tiny babe!  Now, one of the tallest in his group, I still find myself as in awe of him as that first day I met him outside the womb.  He’s just beginning his passage towards adulthood and I can still see glimpses of a child, when he’s not putting up the teenage bravado.  On this day, he was all smiles surrounded by his teen posey and from the margins I got to share in his celebration as we gave him the space to claim his independence.  Though, when it was time for the cake, I did embarrass him by corralling all the kids to sing him a very high-pitched birthday tune.

Following the mini quinceañera, I headed to my friend’s house for my annual Christmas dinner gathering. After a year hiatus we were able to come together and celebrate the birth of Jesus together as friends and sisters in Christ.  It was great to see each other because even now the gatherings are quite scattered and rare.  The children as always show us that even though we all come from humble, turbulent beginnings we are choosing to give our future generation a better life, not just materially, but also by being more loving and trying to correct the wrongs we experienced.

On Sunday, I woke up to the news that the one celebrity that has become an integral part of my family’s history had passed.  Vicente Fernandez or “Chente” as many of us affectionally called him had gone on to serande Our Lady of Gudalupe on her day.  That night we gathered as a family to watch Chente’s wake and were surprised by a concert given by the Mariachi Azteca who accompanied him for over forty years at El Rancho Los Tres Potrillos.  The family opened their doors to the ranch’s arena for the pueblo to come and say good bye to their beloved star and from the screen of our home my family gathered to pay our respects.  We cried like we have never mourned a celebrity while we saw his family and loved ones stand guard at his coffin.  We recalled all those wonderful memories he gave us and the many songs that have nurtured us throughout our years.  At first he was boracho music (Sigo Siendo El Rey), or songs that we played when our hearts were broken (La Diferencia), or when we lost a loved one (Mi Querido Viejo), or when we found out my sister was pregnant (Hermoso Cariño), or when my nephew crawled dance to “Estos Celos” and we used the “Para Siempre” soundtrack as his lullabies… Eventually his music interwined with our memories.  It felt like the closing of the Ranchera golden era, a death of a tradition, a loss of the good ol’ days.  It was also quite fitting that as a family we gathered to watch “El Ultimo Adios” like we used to gather so many times around the TV screen to see his movies in the eighties and nineties.  

   

My Technology Break

For Thanksgiving Break I wanted a break from all technology so forgive me for going MIA for a couple of weeks.  I was tired, burned out from being in front of a screen that as a gift to myself I took some time off.  During that break I did many things that inspired as well as refreshed me.  I began with a visit to the new Saint Michael’s Abbey- I hadn’t been to the new relocation site, since accidently driving there once when it was just a patch of dirt.  While the construction continues the abbey is now open to the public!  I was able to see some of the artists working on the murals for each of the chapels.  It was great to be inside and witness how the place of worship slowly comes together.  I can’t wait until the Abbey Church is completed!

That first Monday of my Thanksgiving Break, I drove up there in the mid-morning hours to avoid traffic and the drive especially when I made it up to the hills was so relaxingly peaceful.  I loved feeling like the road was for me only because I got to enjoy the gorgeous Silverado Hills.  I entered into God’s presence as I drove towards the abbey and when I arrived there were only two people in the Church in addition to the quiet artists painting away.  I walked very slowly touring the main Church just admiring the architectural design and the work that was slowly underway.  I got to see the dedication chapels blank just holding the name of the saint that would soon be depicted in colors.  It was quite exciting to see that many saints that I hold dear will have a chapel dedicated to them and hold their relics! 

While I sat there enjoying the sun shinning through stained glass windows, I knew that like the old abbey this place would become a favorite praying spot, a place close to home to retrieve to in moments of needed spiritual fueling.  I lost track of time and soon I was praying the Sext along with the Norbertine Fathers and seminarians.  It was such a treat to listen to them chant!

Spending half of the day at the abbey was the best way to begin a week that has been so instrumental in finding relief from all the stress that I felt.  My time off with each activity added life to my burning candle and now I feel so ready for Advent and for celebrating the birth of our Savior.  Next on my list, confession so that my heart is pure to receive the Babe Jesus.     

Emo Penny

A very buried emo Penny came to the surface and took over my sunny disposition and this dark reel on repeat consumed my vision for the past eighteen months.  It was weird to get up, even in ninety-degree weather and feel a clouded heaviness.  As most of the world I have been on COVID survival mode, the change in lifestyle and the consequences of that unanticipated change have been felt so deeply here.  I waited for life to return to normal. In time, I thought things will go back to life as it was before the epidemic; but, two years and still wearing a mask on the daily I understand that I can’t put my life on hold. 

I had a long weekend and while I didn’t do anything Instagram worthy (if I had an account); I feel so good. A good that I haven’t felt in a long time.  That type of simple goodness where one wakes up and with no effort hope is present like that MIA student that hadn’t been on campus during lockdown and now is sitting right before my eyes. 

Penny, I am here and just like that I see the sun coming up like the most extraordinary sunrise, like a prodigal son, hope returns. Hope is here.  It’s been awhile in the desert, but I have caught sight of the coast and I know that my emo slump is reaching a conclusion.  Thanks for bearing with me.

It’s no fun feeling a great disconnection from the things that once brought joy, to feel so far away from God.  To have no creative juices left because all my energy went to surviving my work hours.  Sometimes, I forget that I am bipolar – that it’s easy for me to be depressed because my brain was designed with that malfunction. It’s been awhile though since I sunk so low and I know the culprit was COVID and all the unexpected changes, but I feel better now.  This long weekend, helped me reenergize and to find the gift of hope.  It also helped me see how much my faith has grown because even though I felt so apart from God for so long reason helped me see beyond my emotions, to see the truth no matter how low I got.  I guess that’s why they call them growing pains.

Any who, I know that I am still not fully my cheerful self, but everyday things are looking up.       

Protestant Books Folly

Did I ever tell you about the time I gave protestant books to my priests for Christmas?

I had just returned to the Catholic Church and I was involved with Jovenes Para Cristo.  I thought what if I buy a great book for each priest and have everyone in the group sign the card so that it’s a thank you gift from our entire group.  So, I got everyone in the group to sign and put a special message in the three cards.  At the time I had recently visited the then Crystal Cathedral and found some great books that I thought would suit each of the priest’s personalities.  To me books have always been the perfect gift and I was really excited to give a few of the ones that I had read by Robert Schuller, Chuck Swindoll and Lee Strobel to my parish priests. I wrapped them in pretty paper, stuck a shiny bow and placed the group signed Christmas cards on each gift and delivered them to the parish office.

My heart was excited, thinking that I had done something meaningful expressing gratitude to service men that often go day by day without a thank you.  When my phone rang and it was the president of the Jovenes Para Cristo Association, I thought he had called to tell me that the priests had received their gifts and were warmed by the thoughtful expression. 

“Penny, did you give our priests protestant books?” The leader of the group began the conversation in a tone that clearly illustrated that I had done something wrong.

Instantly I was upset. I didn’t understand the accusation.  I just thought of my intentions and how I just wanted the priests to feel special and valued.  So, I told him, “It was a gift, and if the priests have a problem receiving a gift given with the purest intentions, have them directly talk to me about it.” He didn’t argue any more when he realized that I didn’t do it with malice, it was just a matter of ignorance.  He let me go, but I still felt upset because I thought my gift wasn’t well liked instead of it being inappropriate.  To me there has never been a bad gift because I always look at gifts like a little goodness from the giver.  The giver takes time to think of what the gift will be, personalizing and taking the time to purchase.  Then the gift is wrapped and decorated all while the giver thinks of the reaction the recipient will have. 

Thus, there are no bad gifts- at least not when the intention is to bring happiness – that is unless you give protestant books to Catholic priests! I was driving this morning thinking about this incident and laughing at how many times I was too protestant when I made my return to the Catholic Church.

Just a Regular Halloween

Hope you had a Happy Halloween!

After totally passing on it last year, this year I had a little more enthusiasm and mustered an outfit for myself and Francis.  In my thrift escapades I found a small mariachi hat and I thought that Francis would make an adorable charro which he did.  It’s been quite a joy sharing his pictures with my students today and watching their reactions.  A fluffy dog with a hat will make even the most challenging kid smile and break the ice.

I also was able to dress as Jessie from “Toy Story” on Friday to school and the kids had some cute reactions.  I specially loved the reactions from my virtual students as they logged in expecting to see their usually black hair teacher and were surprised to find a red-haired imposter.  Again, I found the Jessie t-shirt and hat at the thrift store and made my wig using red yarn, then I added some calf print fabric to my jeans and it weren’t for my brown skin – you wouldn’t be able to tell us apart.  For both Francis and my costume, I manage to spend less than fifteen dollars and the joy that I got was priceless!

On Halloween Day, we closed our door and turned off our lights, no candy evangelizing this year.  Funny, the year that I don’t participate is the year that I got asked by a priest to share how I celebrate Halloween. He’s trying to get a plan established to get his community to revamp the holiday with saints instead of goblins.  Thus, I had to rely on posts from years past to highlight what I have done to keep my faith on Halloween Day.  Maybe next year, the saint costumes and candy evangelizing will return as now I have a small following of people who are taken by my very Catholic Halloweens.