God never looked in your mirror or mine and wished He saw someone else. — Bob Goff

Walking in virtually all conditions is now a standard part of my daily routine during this time of collective isolation. Salvation of mental health aside, I find if I merely spend most days walking the approximate distance of a half marathon, I am able to very nearly balance out the calories from my goldfish cracker consumption. Are the Pepperidge Farms people conspiring with satan? Well, duh! Stoppage of the forced marches causes a precipitous and immediate spike on the bathroom scale. Curtailed use of goldfish as a sedative seems to result in temptation to alternative forms of debauchery, so here we are.

Moderation has never been my area of giftedness.  I’m more naturally blessed with volume and melodrama.  So, I believe I will stick with the crackers and traipsing combo for now.  I’ve decided to be a little gentle with Shelly and not try to win this coronavirus “thing” we are all experiencing.  I’m doing the best I can.  If you’re living your best life during the pandemic, I am thrilled for you, I really am.  We’re doing fine over here, but this is NOT me at my very best. 

For instance, I went to wake my youngest son so he could log in to some high school online classes shenanigans at 9am the other morning. I looked like Medusa, and I was in a tank top and yoga pants that I still had on from the day before. “It’s time to get up,” I groaned. “What’s the deal, Mom? You don’t look great.” I quite agreed with him, and I began laughing aloud at myself as I spoke the thought I’d be wrestling with since I woke to the gray day. “Well, it’s raining, so what’s the point of living, really?” Then, Zach and I began to cackle at how pathetic I looked and sounded. Tom came bounding upstairs to see what fun he was missing. I’m not sure our explanation did anything but confuse him. Up until now, I might have been tempted to label myself as a poor parent with a negative attitude, but today I see the value in modeling something else. Learning to laugh at oneself is a very vital life skill, after all. I’m choosing to believe Z saw that.

A couple weeks ago, some friends and I decided the connection with one another felt a bit strained because of our inability to lay eyes on each other.  So, we’ve followed the lead of the rest of the world and moved our friendship to Zoom.  Seeking some sort of organization to keep us on track, my dear friend Chris suggested a book club.  We are currently in the middle of a very slow reading of the book Everybody Always.  Despite of the fact that he’s an attorney, the author is a positivity hero of mine, Bob Goff.  I plan to tell him that in person someday.  I’m not sure how that’s going to happen, but this guy has so inspired me to try and become love in my own life by following the lead of Jesus that I plan to find a way…but I digress. 

The book suggestion was mine. Actually, I wanted the girls to read his first book, Love Does. I keep giving it to people who I think the Holy Spirit sends me that need to hear from Bob. You see, his message is challenging, but accessible. I think his crazy stories lead folks to the Lord. That isn’t the best part, though. Bob is the kind of guy who makes you want to add “up until now” at the front of your sentences. He doesn’t say it that way in his books exactly, but that’s what I hear. He thinks big and steps out there to meet Jesus. It’s scary on the ledge trusting Christ with our lives. You see, we all seem to listen to this interior voice from time to time that says we aren’t good enough, or we are failures, or we just can’t do this. I think we need to re-think things at this moment in time and add the phrase “up until now” to the start of our negative self-talk sentences. Are we or are we not made in the image of the Lord? That fact alone makes us the beloved children of the Most High God.

 The girls wanted me to read something with them that I had never read before.  So, I lied and told them I hadn’t read Bob’s second book, Everybody Always.  Well, I didn’t lie exactly, I just led them to assume I hadn’t read it.  At least, that’s what I’m telling myself since my heart was in the right place and the confessionals all have a “closed for business” sign on them right now. 

Here’s what happened at last week’s meeting.  We decided to choose an activity and put love in action this week.  The challenge was to identify a neighbor that perhaps we didn’t know, or (if feeling particularly brave) someone we find particularly off putting and reach out to them.  Nothing works to create peace of mind and heart quite as well as selflessness.  I chose a crabby older couple that lives across the street.  We’ve lived here 6 years and I couldn’t even come up with their names.  It’s really not okay.  Mostly, they seem to dislike us because Nick Fred parks his old clunker on the street near the end of their driveway. 

So, I wrote them a note and included a little care package.  I apologized for not getting to know them sooner, asked about how they were doing, and I offered to run errands for them during this crazy time.  My cell phone number along with some chocolate wrapped in yellow ribbon accompanied the kind letter, in which I shared some details about our children and our lives.  I even addressed the car situation, explaining how I regretted the angst the vehicle was causing them but explaining why it was the safest option available to us and how Nick will be permanently moving out of state in a month. 

Transformative moments like this little one from my week always remind me about the power of selfless love.  When I sprinkle love on someone else, expecting nothing in return, I nearly always find the same interior result.  That is, when I let go of my judgements and ego, then I start to like who I’m becoming.  Feedback or outcome didn’t matter, because this was about loving others more in practical ways.  It made me seek out other opportunities all week long. 

Are you wondering what happened with my neighbor? I’ll allow it. When we were out in the driveway shooting hoops, Dave from across the street came out to chat. He smiled at me, and we kind of agreed to disagree on the location of the car. Later, he sent a text telling me about himself and his wife, and he thanked me for offering to help them out.

That was nice, and it felt good.  The thing is, that part doesn’t matter.  Not really.  It was never really about Dave and Nancy.  It was about me and the Lord.  No matter who I think I am, or where I am on my road of faith, God can use me.  Up until now, you might not have thought He could make use of perfectly imperfect you, but He can.

A few saintly souls aside (for whom I have long held great esteem), none of us really wants to “home school” our children. What we’re doing now, in fairness, isn’t really home schooling at all, but it sure feels like it to those of us who are not born with the gifts of wisdom or patience. Our educators at every level are doing their best to deliver meaningful content across subject areas via the internet right now—and with zero time to prepare. By all accounts, the vast majority are doing so creatively and with compassion. After all, the majority of these folks don’t live on an island. Most of them, like the Thieme family, are navigating in a storm of the unforeseen. I’ll be candid. If my sons learn how to make the perfect over easy egg or change a flat tire instead of mastering the bone structure of the human wrist or the finer points of Spanish II this spring while the world implodes, I’ll live with it. We’ll fight on in the fall and play catch up academically. This is the season of the pandemic, and I don’t know a single soul whose mental health and daily life is unaffected.

Because I know this last sentence is absolute truth, I am trying my best to not yield to my baser instincts in dealing with those few teachers who just don’t get it. What I yearned to do this morning with one misguided Catholic school instructor was aim in her direction that famous quote by our Lord when He sharply rebuked Peter with “Get behind me, Satan.”

I didn’t. We’ll call it a moment of grace. I’ll pray it holds.

Instead, I texted my girlfriends for moral support.  They were squarely, and not surprisingly, in my corner.  We have coronavirus rules, you see.  Rule #1 is support your girlfriends without judgement because none of us is truly okay.

I’ve been reading this book called Work and Prayer. I don’t particularly recommend it. However, if you’re the extra curious sort who is interested in all things Catholic, it’s not so scary. It’s an explanation for lay people about the rule of St. Benedict.

St. Benedict is famous for this “rule” and essentially for saying we need to find God where we are, that it’s wiser to get down to being grateful for what we have and are doing, to making the best of it. “Doing otherwise brings jealousy, resentment, and distaste for what is,” he states. He beseeches us to “act like leaven” which is to be, by example, a persuasive influence in transforming those around us for the better. At least, that’s what I’m taking from the book so far. Well, that, and I’ve learned some new vocabulary words like, “compline” for instance.

Benedict spends a lot of time talking about proper humility and the peace it should produce in our hearts. I’d say I’ve got some serious work to do before I have ANY SHOT at this wild idea he has about how all things are to be embraced with a quiet heart. If there’s one thing we can all agree on, it’s that there’s not a single quiet thing about one Shelly Thieme. Did you hear me mention I wanted with all my heart to tell a poor high school teacher this morning to “get behind me, Satan?” I still kinda want that. Sheesh. Hail Holy Queen, Mother of Mercy…

Walking.  That’s what is working for me.  It might have been only 30 degrees this morning, but I got up and did it for an hour or so all the same.  Most the time, I spend these walks in prayer. Prior to our time of isolation, I was often at morning mass at this hour.  I miss Jesus and the sacraments so very much.  We have had so much trouble with the whole “streaming” thing over here that we couldn’t even watch Easter mass. Our Wifi is sketchy and inconsistent at best.  We don’t need Wifi to pray, though.

This foul-mouthed, ill-tempered mother of three large male humans is a surprisingly able prayer warrior. I really am. If you ask me to pray for you, or your intentions, I do it. I truly consider it a great honor. I’m not the most articulate. In fact, my prayers often sound a lot like my words in this blog— or Jim Carrey’s character in Bruce Almighty. I know this because I watched that silly movie on Netflix yesterday. Don’t judge me. I know you’re over there watching Ozark or Tiger King or something. There’s ample whining, some volume, and plenty of run-on sentences in my prayer lexicon. That’s my point. He knows my voice though, because I am DEFINITELY the squeaky wheel. You know what they say about that squeaky wheel getting the oil? I’m counting on it! “Ask and you shall receive”. My hope is wrapped up in that thought. There’s a growing list of names on my phone, as my only prayer “quirk” is that I really prefer to pray with names. Yes, God knows who you are, but without a name, I tend to lose track of folks. There’s this idea in my head that is ever before me about how my heart and my efforts on His behalf are always seen by the Lord. I want to do my best work.

Why am I sharing this? Well, yesterday, five terrific people reached out to me. They were all struggling in some way with the current situation in which we find ourselves. I promised prayers, and they thanked me. In fact, three of them texted back later with rather effusive gratitude. It struck me as work Jesus gave me and it gave me great joy to feel I had helped in a small, but meaningful way as I sit in quarantine and I felt gratitude and joy. It happens to me a lot, these requests. Do you need prayers too? I’ll be glad to pray for you. Share your name or your specific intention by replying to the post, or email me at shellythieme@yahoo.com. I’ll pray. I promise. When God sent Jesus here, He was telling us He wanted to be with the ones He loves. I want that too.

I’ll leave you with one last thing.  For all of you who are more like “Get behind me, Satan” Shelly from this morning, be gentle with yourself.  I struggle interiorly with that concept, and I know a lot of you do too.  We are all doing our best, ugly though it may look at some moments.  St. Benedict implores us about this.  He says we should never despair of God’s mercy.  That seems an apt, helpful reminder to me this day.

So now I am giving you a New Commandment: Love each other. Just as I have loved you. You should love one another. Your love for one another will prove to the world that you are my disciples. (Jn 13: 34-35)

I have a little group chat going pretty much all the time with a few gals I affectionately call my “mom squad”.  This is not new to my everyday rhythm, nor is it something we’ve added since all the COVID-19 insanity disrupted, well, life.  The conversations continue to be about what is happening in our day to day worlds.  We cheer each other on from afar, celebrate life’s tiniest victories, comfort one another when one (or more) of us has a case of the blues, and always we pray for each other.  These girls are some of my most treasured peeps.  I mean, who else can I text a photo of my newly painted toenails to and they will understand the sliver of heaven I am sharing?  If you have friends like these too, let me tell you folks, your days and mine have all been touched by the sparkly stuff which can only come from the Lord!!

Yesterday, one of these amazing women shared with our group a photo of the dry erase “family goals” board in her hallway.  She’s the most Type-A person I know, and one of the most affirming, articulate friends I’ve ever had.  I’m pretty sure she was trying to encourage some greatness in us.  Each of her family members had 3-4 daily goals on that board.  It was impressive, and full of things they wanted to accomplish during the quarantine.  It would be downright inspiring to a better, holier woman than myself.  Mostly, it made me laugh aloud at myself and think of my most recent conversation with Tom.  He was mocking my coronavirus routine.  You see, I was getting up, showering, then realizing each day there was literally nothing normal on my calendar so I’d take a long walk.  Right after my shower.  I told him in no uncertain terms that this was MY QUARANTINE and if I wanted to get sweaty in full makeup, then that’s my prerogative.  However, he did have a point?  So, in my own quirky, weird way, I felt like I had WON THE DAY because I entered it smelly on the day I got that “goals” board from Lisa.  Her people have lists of accomplishments, and I am celebrating the fact that I am embracing my own BO.  To each her own?  HAHAHA!!!

My point is, there is no right or wrong way to do this time of “isolation” and we all just need to be gentle with ourselves and each other.  Some people need goals, others need Facetime, and still others need to get in a long daily walk or extra prayer time.  I’m not going to lie when I say some of us just need the damn Wifi to work properly so the family doesn’t implode while they try to upload assignments or work projects.  As for me, what I probably need most is to practice CHILLING OUT.  So, perhaps my skipped morning shower is actually a holy practical exercise in patience? 

Here’s what I’ve noticed that I want to share.  Like a lot of you, I’m online more now than I ever have been before…and that place really is a rabbit hole sometimes.  For the first time ever though, I really am seeing the blessings of technology in the way that it can aid relationships when we are forced to be apart.  However, people are difficult and opinionated, and that includes me.  Humans who are a little rattled can be challenging to handle, so sometimes we are tempted to put up barriers, or even demonize the guy with a differing opinion, which is sort of natural.  Some folks do it loudly with a grumpy tweet aimed at someone they see as a villain, and others of us do it in the quiet of our hearts.  The thing is, either way…that is NOT how Jesus taught us to love.

Today is Holy Thursday, and we remember our Lord instituting the Eucharist on this day, by sharing a meal with a man that He knew would betray Him.

I’m reading a sunny book right now that was written by a positivity hero of mine, Bob Goff.  As I look around online to connect with folks in a way that is currently safe and available to me, I keep asking myself the question Bob asks in this book.  “Am I really so insecure that I surround myself only with people who agree with me?  When people are flat wrong, why do I appoint myself the sheriff to straighten them out?  Burning down others’ opinions doesn’t make us right.  It makes us arsonists.”

We are all made in the image of God. He loves you and me and the goofball at Meijer who has ALL the TP in his cart just the same. The same thing goes for the guy in the free food line who drove up in a Tesla. Let’s pick on the TP guy a second and call him “George”. We don’t know the circumstances which brought Tesla guy to the free food line, nor do we understand the motives of George hoarding the TP. What we do know for sure is that even if in the unlikely circumstance that both gentlemen are filled with ill will, the Lord loves Tesla guy and George more than I love my three sons. Let me tell you, that’s just a freaking lot of love, and also a tad disconcerting, am I right? I know this because, well, God is God and I am not. He loves His children more than I love mine because HE IS LOVE. That means He loves you, and me….and George and Tesla guy more than you and I love any soul on this earth. I don’t know about you, but my son called me “pouncy” this week (for good reason) so that unearned, unconditional love feels pretty nice about now, huh?

This day more than any other seems an appropriate time to just remind myself Jesus taught us to love our enemies. That means the backbiters, slanderers, opponents, rivals, antagonists, and just the people who confuse the heck out of us on Twitter.

Think about Jesus with Judas at that first eucharistic meal before He died.  It’s so fitting to me that our Lord instituted this most important sacrament the night before He was crucified.  We pay special attention to everything He said and all that He did (with even more sharp focus today) perhaps because that’s exactly what we humans do with any good friend who is near death.  Jesus wanted us to have a profound and intense relationship with the Eucharist, because He was giving us Himself as spiritual food, necessary for the life of our souls. 

Do me a favor for a hot second and focus on the joyless feeling you have interiorly when you’ve spent yourself (perhaps only in the quiet of your heart) criticizing yourself or others because you or they have failed or fallen short.  Can we just NOT?  I’m taking a pause on that behavior for Holy Thursday, reflecting on the beautifully imperfect life I’ve been gifted, and with deep gratitude asking the Lord for the grace to love others and myself the way He does. 

JOIN ME in a little prayer of gratitude for all our priests?  Today is also the day we celebrate the institution of the priesthood, and without these good men, the Eucharistic feast we all miss so terribly is simply not possible.  I think this familiar prayer feels perfect today, at this unique time in history for them all. 

HAIL HOLY QUEEN, Mother of Mercy, our life, our sweetness, and our hope.  To thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve.  To thee do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this valley of tears.  Turn then, most gracious advocate, thine eyes of mercy towards us, and after this, our exile, show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb, Jesus.  O Clement, O Loving, O Sweet Virgin Mary. 

Pray for us O Holy Mother of God that we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ.  Amen.