Mad for…Bob

Above all, let your love for one another be intense, because love covers a multitude of sins. Be hospitable to one another without complaining. As each one has received a gift, use it to serve one another as good stewards of God’s varied grace. (1 Peter 4:8-10)

During 2019, some of you may remember that I wrote about someone different each day. Those “Mad for” entries became fairly popular, and thousands of you surprised me by reading them and encouraging me to complete my goal of affirming someone new daily in this space over the course of a calendar year. It was a powerful experience for me, and then, I needed a break from the never ending deadlines!

Recently, my friend Claudine encouraged me to pick up my pen, so to speak, and begin writing more frequently. She says the world needs the positivity. I’m going to let the Lord be in charge while I continue to ponder the request. I turn 50 next month, so maybe in my 50th year, I’ll try to share 50 lessons I learn through the people around me? Or perhaps I’ll come up with another idea before my birthday. Stay tuned. Here’s what I do know for sure. Today, Jesus wants me to tell you about my brand new friend, from whom I was the witness of beautiful humility, which led me to a reminder about how important it is to be simply kind.

I have new pen pal named Bob. I’ve written to him a couple of times, and to be honest, I was neither needing nor expecting to hear back from him. His name was sent to me from a nice young man at church who simply told me that this is a guy who might enjoy getting a cheerful note in the mail from time to time. I’m a big fan of cards and letters, so I figured I was perfect for this simple good deed.

Today, Bob called. I don’t usually answer the phone for numbers I don’t recognize, but this one had a local number and I suppose I was curious enough to welcome the interruption. I suppose it might not be prudent since he was a stranger, but I had written my email address and phone number on my last card and I urged him to reach out if there was anything with which I could help. I’m pleased to say he took that offer seriously.

Bob sheepishly said hello when I answered, but I’m nothing if not gifted in the gab department, so he gained courage as the call went on. Old guys usually love me. I credit this to my natural volume level, which is not usually considered an asset by my family, but is a huge aid with folks whose hearing isn’t what it once was. It turns out Bob is just shy of 80 years old, and he’s fighting Parkinson’s Disease. When I asked him if he had any family, he proudly shared about his son who is a graduate of West Point. Hooah!

See that scripture quote at the top of this entry? I find it reassuring. You see, I’ve got a multitude of sins to cover up. However, I have noticed in all humility that there’s this one tiny thing I have in common with Jesus. I’m a big fan of the interloper in my day who gives me a chance to be love to the next guy. Actually, few things feel more satisfying or beautiful. The Lord was THE GOAT at loving people up who interfered with the plans of his day. I remember lots of miracles in scripture that started with moments where someone reached out in faith asking Jesus for a favor.

Bob called because he wanted me to pray for him. You see, he sounded a little frightened of his Monday doctor’s appointment with the neurologist. I asked him what time the appointment is scheduled for (it’s at 3pm), and then I smiled. I knew then what the Lord wanted me to offer for my pen pal. Bob’s appointment is at the hour of mercy. I will say the Divine Mercy Chaplet for Bob on Monday at 3pm.

With his voice cracking, Bob thanked me profusely. It was a great reminder that our tiny kindnesses can go a long way, and that each of us (no matter how small our lives may seem to us) has been given gifts that can be used to spread the love of Christ.

So, whoever came up with this little pen pal idea over there at OLMC? GREAT WORK.

Shine on, friends…

Feels Like 10 Degrees

An inordinate amount of time has been spent by myself and my youngest in our driveway this week. There’s a “good” shovel and there’s a “backup”. If you want to feel the satisfaction of moving large swaths of snow in short order, you want to lay hands on shovel #1. However, once you’ve done that several times, it occurs to a person that the “backup” shovel is aptly named, because if you want to keep your back in the upright position, that’s the one you gotta choose. 16 year-old boys should do the heavy lifting. What was I thinking on day 1 of this driveway adventure??

Errand running on this sunny day seemed like a productive idea, and out I went. When I stepped into the first store parking lot, the shiny stuff was hitting my face, and I thought, “What a nice day! It’s definitely SO MUCH WARMER!” So delightful did the weather improvement feel, that when I got back into my car after completing my first task of the day, I opened up my weather app. For the love of God and all things holy, folks, I swear to you what I saw was this. It’s 18 degrees with a windchill of 10. I promptly got out of the car, looked up at the blue sky, as if to the Lord Himself, put my hands in the air, and declared aloud, “FEELS LIKE 10 DEGREES!!” Then, I doubled over laughing at myself.

There was a man in scrubs on the sidewalk. He looked at me and said, “You ok?” I just started laughing and said, “Isn’t it such a beautiful day? Don’t you think it feels warmer?” He replied, “Actually, yes.” That’s when I told him, “My phone says the windchill is 10 degrees. It just struck me as so damn funny!” He smiled wide at me and replied, “Your laugh made my day.”

As I sit drinking my coffee and warming up again, this incident reminded me of a story I heard Bishop Robert Barron tell about one of my favorite saints, St. Therese of Lisieux. I’m paraphrasing, but he said that the sun shines on the great and the small alike, and that Therese knew she was the small. She wasn’t a great spiritual academic like St. John of the Cross. So, she needed to lift her arms in the air like a baby and let God lift her up, as she didn’t have the intellect or giftedness to climb up to Him like some of the great saints.

In my opinion, she lived so well the concept …”For if we live, we live for the Lord, and if we die, we die for the Lord; so then, whether we live or die, we are the Lord’s.” (Romans 14:8).

In a simple way, without really thinking, I feel like I had a little Therese moment right there in the parking lot. In all humility, my silly, childish act smiling with God about the ridiculousness of my weather reality made me realize I’d gotten something right. You see, freezing cold weather is undoubtedly the cross. Shoveling snow until your eyelashes are icy is the cross. However, doing those things and finding joy in them, feeling a certain serenity in the midst of the tiny sufferings? That’s what embracing Christianity looks like in my life. It’s minor and it’s uncomplicated, but that’s the kind of stuff I have to give Him.

Last week, I had to go to see the breast surgeon. Ah, the joys of abnormal mammography. Of course, I was edgy. Honestly, though, I just told Jesus that I loved Him and I trusted His plan for my life, even if it took me someplace I’d rather not go. I suppose it’s easy for me to say today that I meant it, because things ended well. I pray that when the day comes where I don’t get the ending I’d hoped for, I’ll still submit in peace to the will of God, who loves you and I beyond all telling.

You all, there’s nothing fancy about me. I buy my makeup at Walgreens and I wash my face with a bar of Dove soap. I’m impatient, imperfect, and permanently flawed. I know I fail and need God’s mercy. Maybe I will die on my way to a basketball game this weekend, or perhaps I will live to a ripe old age like my Grandma Langdon. Either way, the fact is that just a handful of people will ever have even known that I was here on this planet. But the Lord knows, and His love is radical. So, I consider myself rather hidden and small, like Therese. In her, I see a bit of myself. She had a burning preoccupation with love. Wouldn’t it be a great way to live to emulate that?

In this past year, so many of us have experienced suffering and sadness. Grace invades when we remember that our lives are not about us at all. When we live for the Lord, shining His light on others the best we can, and carry our little crosses with joy? That is the way of love.

For those of you who tell me you feel sad, who share you can’t find God right now, please know I pray in a special way for you. And if you are someone who is reading this wishing someone would pray for you too? Email me at It would be my deep honor to pray for you and your intentions. Here’s some great, practical advice from St. Francis de Sales on how to help oneself when feeling blue. I hope it helps you as it does me.

“When you find your heart growing sad, divert yourself without a moment’s delay; make a visit, enter into a conversation with those around you, read some amusing book, take a walk, sing, do something, it matters not what, provided you close the door of your heart against this terrible enemy. As the sound of a trumpet give the signal for combat, so sad thoughts apprise the devil that a favorable moment has come for him to attack us.”

St. Therese of Lisieux, Pray for Us!

St. Francis de Sales, Pray for Us!

St. Joseph, Pray for Us!

Mary, Cause of Our Joy, Pray for Us!

St. Blaise is Still Weird, Though…

I have become friendly with Chad at Grove’s Appliance Repair. He and some of his co-workers have made several visits to the house in the 7 years since we built the place. Probably, the KitchenAid people won’t want me for their ad campaign anytime soon. The good news is that few people have made such extensive use of a crockpot as yours truly. I own two, actually. I recommend use of the older models that use a knob to control the temperature over the new fangled digital versions where “warm” means “blazing hot” and “high” means the smoke alarms will be going off at any moment. When the Food Network comes up with a 6-hr slow cooker version of “Beat Bobby Flay”, I feel like I’m pretty much a shoe-in to take home the victory. No one can slake the massive, testosterone fueled appetites of young men with giant vats of mystery food quite like I can.

There hasn’t been a fully working kitchen here since Thanksgiving. That day, Tom made us just a glorious bird. That thing was magazine worthy, and it tasted even better. Let’s be honest though. I mean, anyone can cook delicious food with properly working equipment. What challenge is that? Ha?!

In the time that has passed thus far in our oven repair escapades, my oldest son has purchased his first vehicle, mom has torn her meniscus in two places, my parents both have gotten and recovered from covid-19, Christmas and New Year’s Day have come and gone, a new president has been sworn into office, a third vaccine has come onto the market, my middle son graduated from college, and my youngest son can now drive passengers– including a girl– with whom it seems he recently had his first official “date”. Honestly, these are just some highlights. The damn kitchen is hopeless.

When I got a series of frantic text messages this morning from a friend who was completely losing her mind this morning over her own household crisis, all I could do was look at my kitchen– Chad and his 1000 piece puzzle that used to be my oven– and laugh. Because do you know what entertains me? SO MUCH. The world is a silly, hysterical, amusing joy ride. It’s best not to take any of it too seriously.

Chad and the hopeless oven.

Here’s what we can do. We can lift up the next guy, or we can knock them down. I get to decide what I want to give the world today. What have I got that’s worth sharing? It’s my choice. CNN, Twitter, and the NY Times can do their thing, and I can do me.

Today is the feast of St. Blaise. When I was a kid, the priest at St. Lawrence would line us all up in church and then choke us with these long candles. They called it blessing of the throats. It creeped me out, if I’m honest. His feast, though, falls at a tough moment in the calendar year. There’s a lot of cold and gray. So, some time ago, I decided to turn the day from weird, gray and macabre to something better. I interiorly declared it “Random Act of Kindness Day”. It’s the third day of the month, so I’d do three small kindnesses for others. I rarely have to think too hard, the opportunities simply appear. It’s the Lord’s way, I believe, of reinforcing for me that our greatest calling is love and the chances to practice it are everywhere. Yes, it’s absolute truth that we are called to love, even in the middle of winter.

Chad has been here a long time. The oven still doesn’t work. But what I know now that I didn’t know before is that Chad’s in the middle of chemotherapy. He didn’t look amazing, and I asked if he was okay. He assured me that he was, but admitted he was fighting cancer. Yet there he is on my floor and on the phone trying to fix the great and mysteriously doomed Thieme oven. As he sheepishly got up again to use the restroom, all I could think was…how can I imitate Christ’s love and consideration to this sick man?

I don’t know that much about St. Blaise, except the throat thing and that he was a physician. However, since today is his feast and he was a healer of men by vocation, I have prayed for his intercession on behalf of Chad. Also, I invoked my friend St. Therese who taught me about the value of our little acts of love and sacrifice.

Some day, I’m going to be awesome. Maybe I won’t ever be like St. Blaise or St. Therese, but God’s got a great plan for me, and He’s got one for you too. I think I’ll just trust Him and roll with it, wherever the road leads. I’m trying hard to not get upset about eating potato soup out of a crockpot again because my friend Therese was not about convincing herself that life’s predicaments didn’t bother her or pretending to have feelings she didn’t have. Her temperament and nature was exactly what made her patience a sacrifice. She offered all these things to God. She did so for love of Jesus. Thanks for showing me the way, Trixie.

Let’s get real for a second. I am seriously annoyed by this oven thing as well as many things much larger going on around me at the moment. We can let life make us cranky and bitter if we choose. Or, we can ask Jesus to help us love deeply. Love is a choice and today I want you to think about something. What in the heck would this crazy place do without weirdos who choose kind– even when their souls feel full of brokenness, struggle, rejection, loneliness– and on top of that the damn oven doesn’t work!? I say we stand in it. Let our weary feet be the rich soil the Lord uses to bear fruit. What do you want to give the world today?

As for me? I’m going with a 4th act of kindness for the unsuccessful, very hard-working oven repair guy named Chad who is fighting a battle much bigger than the one with my KitchenAid oven.

Here’s a great prayer for you weary travelers, who like me, struggle sometimes wondering what the heck we are doing, but are trying to trust in the Lord, who is love itself, all the same. It’s a personal favorite.

My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone. (Thomas Merton)