“Let us love, since that is all our hearts were made for.” –St. Therese of Lisieux

Disparaging people I adore is an action I try to avoid in general, but especially in writing. Therefore, it’s with some amount of trepidation that I submit to you a summary of some of the highlights of my last few days. However, I deeply value authenticity, and perhaps a little messiness keeps it real. Actually, I pretty much think that being invited into the weird, vulnerable and rusty parts by someone else is the greatest gift that friendship and family has to offer. I humbly submit to you, therefore, some of the unpolished moments of the last few days.

My mom is a tough bird. The word choice is intentional here. She literally spent part of her childhood living in a chicken coop. That is not a joke. She complains…NEVER. Right now, she’s a little hunched over. Her long overdue hip replacement isn’t happening until October, and there’s been some discussion about rods being placed in her spine after that. I plan to continue to appeal to Our Blessed Mother on behalf of Grandma Kate and see what we can get done about that lousy plan. My point is, when Mom complains of pain and vastly alters her normal active lifestyle, one knows she’s in significant agony. She was here this week, quietly but obviously enduring that torture and cheering on Z in his recent tennis matches. Dad came too but didn’t stay because he had to get back to Lafayette for a little minor surgery. Of course he did. It’s 2020. UGH! The massive dose of naproxen that Mom’s doc prescribed to get her through until her surgery was making her sick to her stomach, so she stopped taking it. Now, Mom has been known to enjoy a glass of chardonnay from time to time, but on her visit this week, it was her choice analgesic. Because he’s a giver and didn’t want her to drink alone, my thoughtful husband sat beside her in the kitchen sipping bourbon. Frick and frack were quite the entertaining combo that evening after the Guerin Catholic boys tennis team had a bad loss up at Westfield High School.

After their (several beverages into the) evening, Drew came bounding through the back door, home unexpectedly from Purdue. The Covid-19 mayhem and stress involved in attempting to understand the clear as mud rules were taking a toll. Drew wondered how they will be applied in his fraternity setting by the university and it simply was too much for my 4.0 college senior to navigate as he takes on his last semester as an undegrad. That’s fairly revealing. So, he came home for guidance and a break from the mask. Not much laughter and smiling is happening for these young folks on campus right now, I can tell you that. We don’t know what’s happening or how long he’ll be here. Drew’s been on a college campus with the throngs, so, to be safe, I sent Drew upstairs and put overserved Mom downstairs. I sent Zach to Nick’s old room. Now, we were up 2 bodies since morning at this point, and down several ounces of alcohol, but no one here was sharing a bathroom with anyone… except for me! That was as much Covid-19 saavy as I had in me. So, I decided to call it a day and went to brush my teeth.

Tom began hollering at me from the family room. He suggested that I might want to check on Mom because she had been yelling my name from the basement. I think I mumbled a two syllable phrase and it closely resembled “Well, crap” but it wasn’t quite that appropriate. Ha? You see, unexpected calls from parents of late have been things like chemotherapy side effects, heart attacks, and hospital visits. Given the way the night was going, it didn’t seem like this was headed anywhere positive.

But do you know what she wanted? She wanted to give me a pair of her underwear. Yep. Her underwear was gifted to me late Monday night because they are the most comfortable panties she’s ever owned. Also, they are one size fits all. How innovative. That seems normal? I can keep them she says. Lucky me, right? Because, you guys, EVERYONE wants to wear their moms underwear. If only sarcasm burned calories….

I showed them to Tom when I came upstairs. And then I started to cry and fan my face because I was laughing so hard. Tom said if I start wearing Mom’s underwear we will have to get a divorce. Sorry for outing you, Mom, but thank you, God, for the best laugh I’ve had in a month!

We’ve all got a story to tell about our journey through 2020. Mine’s quite a bit bigger than the messiness I’ve described above, but a glimpse at my more vulnerable (and grateful) than before heart reveals something. I’ve grown spiritually, and I’ve learned some things this year. I hope you have too. One of the great lessons for me is about vulnerability. It’s a holy and good thing when we gift it to one another and to the Lord. I mean, Jesus knows a thing or two about being vulnerable, am I right? If you’re not tracking with me, Google “Sorrowful Mysteries.” God has a pattern of redeeming us when we are broken open. We simply have to go to Him. Prayer can change that which seems impossible. I invite you to try it.

I can’t fix Dad’s heart, or Mom’s hip, or Grandpa Tom’s colon cancer. I can’t rescue the friends who are struggling with broken marriages, addiction, or mental health crises. However, I can walk beside them, making sure they know they are not alone on the journey. I can love (and find the humor) and so can you. We can’t listen or hear or enter into the heartaches and hurt of others to love them along unless we are willing to be available and vulnerable. We can’t be the face of Christ during the not-too-pretty parts of life when we are bitter or angry or selfish.

Sometimes, I don’t get invited to “the” party. Do you know what I do get though? The honor of holding onto the secret hurts, and the SOS text in the middle of the night. If you’ve experienced it too, you’ll understand why I’ll take it over almost anything. Nothing feels quite like trying to spend a moment loving like Jesus. Those are moments I guard, reverence, and hold dear. I don’t want anyone to feel alone, overcome by suffering. The way we bring light into darkness is through the fire of our faith and the light of our smile. When God is at the heart of our lives, we shine and our tiny corner of the world is transformed.

We need to hold one another in high esteem, and we need to laugh and love in each moment as it comes along. That’s how I think we survive 2020 as Christians.

I’ll leave you with this little grin. My 16-year-old, Zach, asked me in the midst of the eLearning this week to help him come up with a five syllable phrase for his now online GCHS ukelele class. I was annoyed by virtual school and too much screen time and was not in a particularly inspiring mood and my reply was “I hate Zoom meetings.”

Later, when I asked him what he went with, he began to giggle, looked up and me and said, “Five Syllable Phrase”. HAHAHA! Yep. He’s definitely my kid, and his snarky little sense of humor remains in tact. Well played, Z! We’ve got to keep smiling.

Here’s the little prayer I’m saying lately. It feels like our country and our world can use all the love and cheerfulness available right now. I hope you’ll join and pray along with me!

“O Holy Spirit, descend plentifully ito my heart. Enlighten the dark corners of this neglected dwelling and scatter there thy cheerful beams.” –St. Augustine

Here’s hoping you get a chance to spread a little love and laughter in your day. PEACE, OUT!