He Never Misses

Author: HeNeverMisses

  • 43 Things

    God gave you a gift of 86,400 seconds today. Have you used one to say ‘thank you’? –William Arthur Ward

    That's me blowing out the candles yesterday.
    That’s me blowing out the candles yesterday.

    “You know you round up to 45 now? And 45 rounds up to 50. So basically, you are 50, Shelly!”

    Then, gleeful grins followed by cackling.

    This is the kind of grief I am getting this week. But, when you dish it out yourself, you’d better be able to handle a little ribbing. For the record, however, I think I should state that I am actually a very youthful 43 this week—contrary to what some have been told by my husband Tom and my good friend Lisa.

    In honor of the occasion of the 43rd anniversary of my birth, here are 43 things, some completely silly, some more substantive, for which I am grateful. They are listed in no particular order.

    1. Family. Yes, some of them are goofballs. But they are MY goofballs.
    2. Birthdays. Just love everything about them—yours, mine—life is such a gift!
    3. Yellow Box flip flops. Thank you, Yellow Box people for making the cutest, most comfy flip flops ever made (and making them in size 11)!
    4. The Laudate App. If you’re a Jesus girl who loves your iPhone, it’s a must have.
    5. French chemist Eugene Schueller, inventor of hair dye. ‘Nuff said.
    6. Pansies. You dudes get a bad rap. What an unfair name. Thanks for being there to usher in springtime!
    7. Teachers who don’t give homework on the weekend. It’s tiring for moms trying to pass 3rd grade for the 4th time.
    8. Books by George Weigel. He has an intelligent, faithful, and accessible voice. Love him.
    9. Santa Margherita Pinot Grigio. Yum.
    10. People who smile….cuz smiling’s my favorite!
    11. The St. Margaret’s Guild Decorator Show Home. An annual girly tradition with Mom.
    12. Kenny, who bags my groceries and cheerfully escorts me to my car at O’Malia’s grocery store!
    13. Catholic Schools
    14. Diet coke, with a lid and a straw…in a Styrofoam cup. Lent is extra-long without you!
    15. Boys playing ball outside for hours in my driveway.
    16. Jimmy Fallon. Geez that guy is funny.
    17. Happy, chill music. Stuff you can listen to while you drink your margarita too fast so it won’t melt.
    18. People who “follow me” on Twitter….because let’s be honest….they are a rare breed!
    19. The garbage man. Without him, smelly chaos.
    20. The sun. May I never take you for granted again!
    21. Mass. When Jesus is on board, life just works better.
    22. Laughter. What beautiful noise!
    23. That feeling when you know Jesus used you to help someone.
    24. Hugs. My husband actually calls me a “hug whore”. Is that a compliment?
    25. Acceptance. I’m so thankful to people who like me just the way I am.
    26. Kid President. Don’t know him? Look him up. That’s one cool little dude.
    27. Glitter. It’s just fantastic sparkly stuff and you know it!
    28. Friends. “Faithful friends are beyond price…” (Sir 6:15)
    29. Hand dancing. If it was only an Olympic sport, I’d be IN!
    30. Compliments. Accentuate the positive. Latch on to the affirmative. Just sayin.
    31. Confession. It’s like free therapy for Catholics. Brilliant invention. Forgiveness is pretty great, and that is all.
    32. People who can laugh at themselves.
    33. Dangling earrings. What’s not to love?
    34. Pope Francis. Domus Sanctae Martae, regular guy shoes, a Jesuit who chose the name Francis? He rocks.
    35. Sports. Especially games the Thieme boys are playing in. When Nick Fred crushes it over the head of the outfielder, or Z crosses someone over, or D drains another 3….then the smile.
    36. Bonfires—with marshmellows.
    37. St. Therese of Lisieux. Don’t know her? Read Story of a Soul. Saccharine, sentimental awesomeness!
    38. Chuck Lofton, WTHR-13. He just seems like he enjoys his job so much I don’t even get cranky when his forecast is a bust.
    39. Mackey Arena. Not a bad seat in the place.
    40. Songs from the old “Glory and Praise” book. Sing to the Mountains, baby!
    41. My husband’s socks. Warm, cozy, cushy. Sorry, hon.
    42. Vacation sex. (Sorry, Mom).
    43. Love. “Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God.” (1 John 4:7)

    Mother Teresa said, “Every time you smile at someone, it is an action of love, a gift to that person, a beautiful thing. So, my birthday week gratefulness list is my attempt to smile at you, and to inspire myself (and maybe you too) to notice how big we are blessed in ways “itty bitty” as well as “ginormous”.

    This is the day the Lord has made. Let us be glad and REJOICE!

  • Shaazam, You’re Good!

    “Bracketology” as it turns out, is not a word that appears in my dictionary app.  The people at Merriam-Webster have apparently not spent enough time in Indiana during the month of March.  As we speak, there are six completed NCAA men’s basketball tourney brackets posted on my pantry door.  When the “picks” arrive from Grandma Kate and Grandpa Jim, we will have the door completely covered in scotch tape.  It’s a time of year filled with laughs and bragging rights….and the official start of spring here at the Thieme house.

    Do you want to know what is bugging me?  NONE of our teams are in the tourney.  IU, Purdue, Notre Dame, Butler, Ball State…..out, out, out and out!  Since I bleed black and gold, it’s the woeful Boilermaker program that is a tough pill to swallow.  I could go on about my opinions with how to fix that, but I doubt Purdue President Mitch Daniels is in the habit of taking the suggestions of stay-at-home moms about the future of the athletic department—which is in embarrassingly bad shape—in case I failed to adequately communicate that earlier.

    Let it go, Shelly.

    Serving burgers to grade schoolers is what’s up next on my schedule today.  Usually, I really look forward to being lunch lady.  Today?  Not so much.  You see, this morning my youngest son was sobbing before school.  I am sure he calmed when he got to school.  He’s waaaay too cool to cry in front of “the guys”.  You know when you’re upset , containing it, then you see your mom and you just lose it?  That’s my prediction for how lunchroom will go today.

    Last week, he spent two days taking I-STEP tests.  Yesterday, he did a “practice test” for the I-READ.  This test is now required in order for students to be promoted to 4th grade in the Hoosier state.  In Zach’s case, he has been getting A’s on all his reading tests in class.  Of course, that doesn’t matter a bit to the state of Indiana.  Zach is anxious because the tests are given on computers.  He isn’t comfortable with the computer test.  He has developed some test taking strategies which help him (like circling questions you aren’t sure about and underlining key sentences in text) which you can’t do on a computer.  He is sure his computer will crash.  Or, he won’t know how to work it….and of course you aren’t allowed to ask any questions under penalty of death.  Needless to say, he is pretty sure he will be in the 3rd grade until he’s 21.   That seems like pretty high stakes pressure for a 9 year old.

    I could expound at great length upon what I think of all the standardized testing and how we have taken education away from the educators and turned our kids into dots on a big bar chart.  Instead, I will spare you from suffering further under my black cloud.

    Did I mention he will see me right before he takes this “make or break” test that has him in knots?

    Let it go, Shelly.

    My washer made this morning’s laundry smell like rotten eggs.  Nick’s new car starts—sometimes.  Caesar, the neighbor’s big fluffy mutt, prefers using our yard as his “potty.”   I miss actual keys because keypads seem to hate me.   Energy-saving light bulbs?  The ones that are supposed to last like seven years?  Ugly, expensive, and mine have all burned out.  Again.  Also, you should congratulate the 3 Thieme boys when you see them.  I am pretty sure they have now officially set a record for most leaves and mud ever tracked into a house.   Impressive accomplishment, gentlemen!

    All of this junk is a little taste of what is getting to me today.   As I pondered my excessive  negativity and prayed for grace this morning, I found myself suddenly humming.

    Here’s the lyrics to a terrific song by Francesca Battistelli,(@francescamusic) whose chorus came humming out of me, without my permission:

    This is the stuff that drives me crazy
    This is the stuff that’s getting to me lately
    In the middle of my little mess
    I forget how big I’m blessed
    This is the stuff that gets under my skin
    But I gotta trust You know exactly what You’re doing
    It might not be what I would choose
    But this is the stuff You use

    Thanks, God, for reminding me that getting my underwear in a knot over the minutia of life is a useless waste of time.  Thanks for the grace to see my shortcomings clearly this day and for sending me a song to lighten my mood and knock me awake.  You gave your grumpy, undeserving daughter a beautiful gift—that song in my heart.  You are light years beyond any kind of fantastic word I can think up.  Thanks for loving me just the way I am, while challenging me to be more.  Thanks for my beautiful boys, including their filthy shoes.   I love you too.

    Off I go.  I’ll give those kids a little of what You gave me.  Promise.

    Shaazam, You’re good!

  • I’m Fat and it IS Tuesday

    Today in Carmel, Indiana
    Today in Carmel, Indiana

    “Global warming, my ass!”  This is the response a friend sent when I shared the following tweet from our local ABC affiliate, WRTV:“@rtv6:  Record low for Indianapolis tomorrow is 2 degrees set in 1873.  That record is very much in jeopardy.”Another pal texted, “Why do we keep breaking all these crappy records?!  SERIOUSLY…I need sun and heat!”

    I admit, the 55 inches of snow we have received in Indianapolis this year is making me start to wonder whether the locusts are next.  I know I am supposed to wake thanking God for the day, but I am feeling something less than gratefulness.  It’s March 4th and it’s 11 degrees outside.   I just want sunshine and a temperature warm enough to take a walk outside without my nostrils freezing when I inhale.

    So, what’s my point?

    Well, besides being another in a long line of frigid days, it’s also Fat Tuesday—Mardi Gras!  Meaning what?  It’s our last day to “revel” before 40 days of penitence, sacrifice during the season of Lent?  Umm.  This thought is a major struggle for me.

    Here’s what I’m really feeling:  I’m fat and it IS Tuesday.   That’s about the only commonality between “Mardi Gras” and the space I am this day.   I just put a roast in the crockpot and that’s the closest thing to a “king cake” happening at the Thieme house.  It’s tax season and we are missing our resident CPA.  The whole damp, white of the outdoors plus the frozen, slate colored sky is a winter that has been like the longest Lent I can imagine.  Add to that the rawness we feel from losing my mother-in-law, followed shortly thereafter by the loss of a treasured uncle, and now I have painted you a picture of our emotional and physical state here at the Thieme house.  Now, God wants 40 more days?  What if even just being nice is starting to feel like a stretch?

    “My soul is sorrowful even to death….” 

    Those are the words of Jesus that feel meaningful to me this day.  He spoke them about how He felt knowing He would be put to death—for you and me.

    I think the call for me today is to GET OVER MYSELF.

    Like the older son in the famous “Prodigal Son” story, I have acted as if I am put upon.   There he was, obeying his father, trying to do the right thing.  Little brother disrespects his dad, runs off with his share of the money, blows the wad, and then comes back to a hero’s welcome.   “Hello?  Over here, Padre?  Been doing all my work plus that little goofball’s jobs too?  Now, you’re making over that guy?  How about a little love pour MOI??!”   I completely get that big brother.  Legitimate beef, if you ask me!

    I’m a lot like that bugged older brother as I think to myself how “poor me” this winter and growl at those around me (sometimes aloud, other times with my evil stare).  Class act, huh?

    Here’s a quote that reflects my feeling for what Lent should really be about in terms of my frame of mind:

    “True humility is not thinking less of yourself, but thinking of yourself less.”  –C.S. Lewis

    Lent is about reflecting on what Jesus did for us.   It’s about gratefulness permeating us to the core of our being.

    I, for one, can clearly see that my heart is not yet ready.  It’s possible that I am just a touch crabby.  So, MAAAAYBE I do need Lent.

    It’s comforting to me knowing that Jesus spoke these words, “The flesh is weak, yet the spirit is willing.”    The mind of a Christian should be open to God’s will even though we may not understand.  It should be filled with compassion, showing love for others.  We cannot suffer with those around us, we cannot love them as Jesus wishes, if we are too busy thinking about ourselves and grumbling about [fill in your irritants here].

    We are called to live outside of ourselves, dropping any self-righteousness or self-pity we may surmise is justified.  It isn’t.

    “But You, O Lord are my protector, my glory, and the lifter up of my head.” (Ps. 3:3)

    So, as Lent begins, I plan to make a conscious effort to begin my day with something slightly better than “Good morning, God.  Talk to you later.”  By focusing on all that is positive and beautiful, I know that I will open my heart to the great truth Jesus wants me to live— that all is a gift.

    The saint to whom I will call for intercession this lent is Mother Teresa.  She’s the perfect choice.  Think about it.  Where did she live most of her life? Calcutta.  Google it.   It’s similarities to downtown Carmel, Indiana are mindblowing—NOT!   Who did she serve?  The poorest of the poor.  AND YET, instead of grumbling like yours truly about gloomy surroundings, or people that irritate, she was just such a cool chick, always quick to smile.  She is famous for posting the following on the walls of her convent:

    The Anyway Poem

    People are often unreasonable, illogical and self centered;  Forgive them anyway.

    If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives;  Be kind anyway.

    If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies;  Succeed anyway.

    If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you;  Be honest and frank anyway.

    What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight;  Build anyway.

    If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous;  Be happy anyway.

    The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow;  Do good anyway.

    Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough;  Give the world the best you’ve got anyway.

    You see, in the final analysis, it is between you and your God;

    It was never between you and them anyway.

    Is it just me, or does this pithy little poem seem like a great Lenten list from which to choose?   I believe I will start with a very intentional “Do good anyway” for my first week of Lent.   I’ll let you know how it goes.

    Let’s light the darkness, all!

  • Oh, what a day!

    My 16 year old son, Nick, with his first car...a 2003 Hyundai Santa Fe!
    My 16 year old son, Nick, with his first car…a 2003 Hyundai Santa Fe!

    Oh what a day! Oh, what a day! 

    My baby brother ran away.

    And now my tuba will not play!

    I’m eight years old and turning gray.

    Oh, what a day! Oh, what a day!

    –Shel Silverstein

    Admit it, this is a lively little poem, huh?  It’s catchy, silly and it rhymes.  Silverstein’s work stuck in my brain when I was a girl the first time I heard it.  Anytime I exhale the words “Oh, what a day” (for reasons either positive or negative) I can’t help repeating this goofy, brilliant little poem at top speed right behind it.  Sometimes I even do it aloud, which typically elicits a stare which wonders silently about my mental capacity.

    OH WHAT A DAY!

    The forecast this gray day called for 6-10 inches of additional snow in my weather weary hometown of Carmel, Indiana.  Ugh.  But, it’s a big day here at the Thieme house, so I shook off Chuck Lofton and Al Roker with their unfriendly news of the morning and got ready to face the day.

    As the mother of a son who has reached the age of 16 years, 183 days, it happened to be the first date on the calendar where he was both eligible to receive his Indiana driver’s license AND the BMV is open.  It’s a big day.

    I’ll never forget my own Dad leaving work to come and pick me up at Central Catholic High School the day I was eligible for my license many moons ago.  Mom and Dad didn’t make me wait until a day and time that was practical…when there was no school or sports conflict, for instance.  They let their inner teenager lead the way.  I recall extreme gratefulness and pure joy!!

    OH WHAT A DAY!

    First, however, there was the carpool full of grade schoolers to escort to St. Louis de Montfort Catholic School.  As I pulled out of the parking lot, I felt a strong inner tug to stop for daily mass.   It’s something I do with fair regularity, but I lack discipline and so hadn’t necessarily planned to do so this morning.  But I have prayed much of late asking for God’s help on this weakness so the tug was all His perfect timing.  Okay, Holy Spirit, I thought.  You win.  I keep praying about how I need Your help with discipline in all things…physical, spiritual, practical.  Thanks for being loud.  I hear you.  Mass it is.

    Just moments after my arrival, in came my father-in-law.  I quickly realized God nudged me intentionally and for a specific reason.  My silent quick glance to heaven was a prayer of thanksgiving.

    “Is mass this morning being said for Jane?” I quizzed.

    “Yes. “

    We sat together, sang together, and Fr. John asked us to bring up the offertory.   It was a lovely, intimate mass and I had the opportunity to pray aloud for the souls of two cherished family members whose losses are fresh and for peace for all of us who mourn.  We held hands as we said the Our Father and we hugged at the sign of peace.  It felt like a great and undeserved gift and if I am honest my heart was aching with both the losses and the overwhelming gratitude for a God who would love me so much that He would know just how to nudge me into attendance so that I wouldn’t miss His incredibly beautiful hug this morning.

    OH WHAT A DAY!

    At midday, my oldest son got his driver’s license, picked up his first car (a 2003 Hyundai Santa Fe) and got his first tank of gas courtesy of the thoughtful and pretty terrific Dawn and Craig Miller at Indy Auto Source.  He drove himself to grab and sandwich, and he made his way home across 116th St. for the very first time all alone.  He acknowledged that his dad and I were due “some extra love” and gave me a high five.  Exuberance and joy were quite evident on his scruffy teenaged face.  I told him that if God blesses him with a family someday to remember how he felt this morning, continue to work hard in school, and pass on the moment one day to my grandchild.  I also told him I loved him and am proud of him and that he has given us no reason not to expect he will be extremely responsible with his newfound freedom.  Then, a tear I could not reign in fell down my cheek.  He smartly ignored it.

    OH WHAT A DAY!

    What else?  They poured the floor in the basement of my soon to be home today.  That job was finished moments before the snow began to fall. That would be the same snow that is not supposed to stop until nearly a foot of it has collected.  I am not a builder, nor have I recently slept in a Holiday Inn, so I don’t understand that decision.

    My friend, Kris, asked our help for her daughter at Purdue that suffered a bad fall today and was in need of medical attention.  She reached out knowing our families are both from Lafayette.  We passed along the names of a couple doctors, the best ER in town and our promise for prayers for our fellow Boilermaker.  A CT scan and X-ray later, we learned there’s no internal bleeding….Thank you God!

    My youngest forgot his reading book, my carpool partner called to warn of a problem for her 4th grader arriving home in my car, the ball games were cancelled (again), the kitchen is covered in melting snow footprints, and three friends offered to get my kiddo home from school.  Chase is sending me a new credit card because they think someone is trying to steal my identity.  Oh, and the 9 year old is thrilled I remembered the peanut butter crackers on my grocery run.

    And NOW, here comes the SNOWVERLOAD!!

    OH WHAT A DAY! OH WHAT A DAY! MY BABY BROTHER RAN AWAY.  AND NOW MY TUBA WILL NOT PLAY.  I’M 8 YEARS OLD AND TURNING GRAY. OH WHAT A DAY, OH WHAT A DAY!!

    Like moms everywhere, the life I live is completely without glitz.  It used to be that I struggled to find my worth in the invisibility that is the day to day existence of the stay-at-home mom.  Now, I realize this is the most important work imaginable and I only get one chance to give it my best shot.   I am so grateful for every silly moment of this snowy February day.  My 16-yr old gave me a high five for goodness sakes and I got to hold hands with my pretty amazing father in law and pray with him.   It doesn’t get much better than that.  This is the journey.  This is the good stuff.  Today was a crazy day filled with smiles and a few tears.

    Here’s my prayer today.  Maybe a few of you will find it suits your needs sometime.  My great honor would be if you pray along.

    Dear Jesus,

    I praise you and I thank you for my very full and often invisible life.  In each small detail, in each circumstance, I am given a chance to praise You, Lord, and thank You for loving me perfectly.  When I choose to smile through both routine and chaos with peace in my heart, grateful for the blessing of my family and friends and the life You provide me, I honor You.  Like St. Philip Neri, who was famous for his joyful spirit in right relationship with You, I invite You to be part of all the smallness of my life.  I ask Your help with the discipline and desire I need to grow in holiness and ever closer to You.

    Amen.

    And now, I’ve gotta go!!  It’s time to work the snow shovel!

    PEACE OUT!

  • Yes Lord, Yes Lord, Yes Yes Lord!

    Mother Theodore Guerin Teacher of the Year, Kristy Worthington and family
    Mother Theodore Guerin Teacher of the Year, Kristy Worthington and family

    Imagine if you will the horror of being a 14-yr old high school freshman and being asked to play the guitar at an all-school mass the very first week of school.  Nobody knows who you are yet and the first impression they are going to get is that you’re a “religious guitarist”?

    As my husband tells it, we were practicing the mass songs with the students prior to mass when I became perturbed.  “Ok, you St. Lawrence people, I know you know this song….so sing!!”

    If I was there playing, they better be there singing, darn it!   So, I decided to take my case to the entire student body rather loudly into the microphone.  Clearly, I’ve never been one for sliding under the radar.

    With is tongue firmly planted in cheek, he tells people all these years later  “She was sooo H-O-T.  That’s when I knew she was the one for me!”  He quite enjoys torturing me with his mocking of this moment from our shared Catholic school experience years ago.

    This is the life moment that came to mind as I read about Pope Francis and his daily homily from yesterday.

    “You’re able to shout when your team scores a goal, and you are not able to sing praises to the Lord, to come out of your shell ever so slightly to sing (his praise)?” the Pope asked during Mass.

    The guy’s got a point.  We all need to get over ourselves and sing.  Don’t have a good voice?  Well, God gave it to you, let Him deal with it.

    Are you more grateful when the Colts score a touchdown or PG drains a “3” than you are for your healthy children, your thoughtful spouse, a sunny day, your eyesight, the ability to smell the chocolate chip cookies  fresh from the oven, a warm bed, your kids amazing school?  The Pope is reminding us that God loves when we love Him with enthusiasm, praising Him for all the blessings He pours upon us.  It’s something to think about.

    Catholic Schools Work

    Today at my parish school, a kind, gracious and faith-filled teacher named Kristy Worthington was honored by her peers as the “Mother Theodore Guerin” Teacher of the Year as part of our Catholic Schools Week celebration.  While she is deserving of the honor for many reasons, I would argue her most laudable quality is the JOY she exudes to all in her path.  It draws us in, calls us all to our own discipleship.

    Our churches,  our schools and our communities need people like Kristy, along with her enthusiasm, her creativity and the joy that is so characteristic of her youthful spirit.

    Do you know what else?  When the school choir breaks out a few verses of “Trading My Sorrows” and they get to that refrain which is a beautiful prayer of joyful praise, she is ALWAYS among the first to bust out her “Yes, Lord, Yes, Lord, Yes, Yes, Lord” hand motions….and it quickly spreads.

    Says Pope Francis, “The fruitfulness that praise of the Lord gives us, the gratuity of praising the Lord: that man or that woman who praises the Lord, who prays praising the Lord, who, when praying is filled with joy at doing so, and who, when singing in the Mass rejoices in singing it, is a fruitful person.”

    Today’s prayer:

    Thank you, Jesus, for Catholic Schools where our children can learn about how much You love them.   This week we thank You for all the amazing gift of that grace filled presence in our lives and for all the underpaid, but AMAZING teachers like Kristy who make it possible and through whom You work.  Today on the carpool ride home, Lord, we’ll be breaking out a song of praise to honor and thank You for the blessing of all the schools where we can pray with each other and with our classmates.  We ask for Your grace to help us to do a better job of honoring You with JOY each day!

    Yes, Yes, Lord….Amen.

    **Post script:  The song I referenced (link below to listen) is called “Trading My Sorrows” by Darrell Evans and is available on iTunes. 

  • Prayers for Boilermakers…

    “There’s been a shooting at Purdue today,” said teacher Cathy Cederholm as I finished up my lunchroom duty at St. Louis de Montfort today.  “I’m checking up on all my Purdue kids to make sure everyone is safe.”

    The information being released is minimal and the situation is still active at my alma mater, which happens to also be my hometown.  From here, what I can do is pray for the students, professors, campus employees and passersby who might have been in harm’s way (or feared they were) today.

    For the young Boilermakers who are out in the world on their own for the first time and now dealing with a lost sense of safety and security, and for their parents whose hearts stopped  beating until they got the “I’m safe and I’m okay” call, there’s little else any of us could do.

    Perspective

    Sometimes, it takes something extremely serious to help us with perspective.  Other times, a tiny moment does the trick.

    When my 9 year old glanced upward with that morose little face full of innocent freckles and asked me about this situation on the campus he has visited so many times, I told him that it made me sad too.   Then, I just had an honest conversation with him and his 14 year old brother.  I told them how we needed to pray for the victim and his family, and also for the shooter.  Zach looked up waiting for my explanation on that last part.  I shared how no one who understands that they are wonderfully made and truly loved by God would choose to solve their problem with a gun.

    I said, “Do you think God loves the boy who made the really bad choice today at Purdue?”

    “He’s probably not very happy with him, but He’s God and God always loves us, right Mom?”

    “Yep. That’s right, Z.”

    Most days, our challenges and concerns aren’t so incredible.  For instance, when my oldest son Nick was 4, he was timid.  On the soccer field, he stayed outside “the scrum” and watched the other kids fight it out.  He was afraid to get hurt, afraid to fall.  Learning to ride a bike was therefore a near impossibility…and his dad and I were frustrated by his inability to get out there and meet the world.  We wondered if we were failing him in some way.  His words were, “I just can’t do it!  It’s too hard.”  He couldn’t see the freedom waiting for him.  We wondered and worried about him like all parents do, especially the first time around.  It seemed like such a big deal.

    A few days after watching us and our futile attempts with Nick and his bike, a neighbor told us (and our little guy too) about her “magic bike”.  She described how her son Will had learned to ride on the “magic bike.”  “I could have Will’s uncle bring the bike back from Ohio for you to borrow if you want to try it, Nick” she gently offered.  “Yes, Mrs. Volpe, I would like to ride the magic bike.”

    Within moments of his little feet touching the pedals of the “magic bike” a couple weeks later, the walls of fear were coming down and suddenly his world was bigger and faster—and much more fun!  Freedom is delicious!!

    On that particular week  12 years ago, there was both worry and then joy for my young son, Nick as he took off on the rusty old white bike shipped in special from Ohio.  It was one of those life moments.

    Today, I received a text message from my now 16 yr old (yes, an illegal text sent to his mom from school) wondering about the safety of Will Volpe– the same kid whose bike he borrowed those many years ago, now a Purdue Senior studying engineering.

    My grandma used to say “small kids, smaller worries, big kids, bigger worries.”  How true.  It doesn’t really matter if they are tiny or if they are enormous, though, does it?  They are ours all the same and each day we must be prepared to handle what our journey brings as best we can.

    Freedom is peace of heart in the middle of the chaos

    Over oatmeal and coffee earlier in the week with a girlfriend, we discussed our children.  We talked of our hopes for them, the challenges and perils they face growing and maturing, and our need to trust that God will lead us all according to His flawless plan.  Being at peace and trusting in God’s plan, trying our best to do His will.  That’s freedom, but gosh it’s hard.  It’s especially challenging for those of us right in the middle of raising young people in 2014.

    As I wondered aloud that day about the school dance and the driver’s license eligibility date approaching, my friend shared with me that her beautiful and remarkably bright daughter frets and struggle so much over the issue of body image.  This young lady is a gifted athlete who wears a single digit dress size.  If there was ever anyone who should look in the mirror and appreciate God’s creation, it is this young lady.

    How can she not delight in it?  How can she fail to see how wonderfully made she is?

    Her mother sees all this with clarity and not a small amount of angst, yet she seems willing to walk alongside her lovely daughter with a fair amount of peace in her heart, despite the difficulties.  She is a godly mother, and to me there seems an innate need on the part of mothers everywhere to love our family by some sort of inner compulsion.  It’s how God made us.

    Our journey is perilous but we must take it if we want to be free. 

    Our children are each on their own journey, just as we all are.  The important thing is that as we walk, wherever we are, that we learn to know who we are in God’s eyes.

    Why?  Because we aren’t the author of the story, and the only thing we can count on in this life for sure is that some days are going to take our breath away and we aren’t going to get out alive.

    Who am I in God’s eyes?  I didn’t know when I was 16.  Or 30.  I was a slooooow learner.  Of course I don’t want that for my 3 boys.  I’m sure you’d rather an easier path for those you love as well.  UNFORTUNATELY, God isn’t big into sharing when it comes to authorship.  He is the Author of Life(Acts 3:15), Author of our Faith (Heb. 12:2), Author of Salvation (Heb. 2:10).

    Friends really are a gift from God and that chat felt like a God sighting along Highway Shelly.  It helped me so very much as I meandered through this Tuesday afternoon.

    Patience and humility are the words of the day.  God makes His presence known when He wishes and appears for His own reasons.  We have to be, says Fr. Robert Barron “humble and docile in his presence, ready to wait, if necessary, through long hours, days and years, prepared to hear the rush of God….when it comes.”

    For the first time maybe ever, I realized today, I feel a legitimate sense of peace.  I am not saying I don’t have significant things about me that I don’t like a bit.  I loathe that I am sometimes more concerned about me than about others.  It bugs me that I don’t get out of bed without hitting the snooze button.  It irks me that I lack self-discipline, have a bad attitude towards exercise, and that I drink too much diet coke.  I talk too loudly and check my iPhone too often.   It drives me crazy that my pride doesn’t allow me to love selflessly the way God wishes.  And seriously, what’s up with the kidneys always full of stones?

    Here’s the thing.  I don’t define myself anymore by what’s lacking in me, by the sins I commit or the suffering that is mine to manage while my God seems far away.

    Says Fr. Barron,  “When we suffer, we are like the tiny child, sadly and angrily incapable of grasping the reason for our pain, and God is like the father whose only recourse is the invitation to trust.”

    Much like my sons are each the child of a crazy lady who insists they shower and occasionally eat from multiple food groups, not to torture them but out of love, I am the child of a merciful God who is wild about me.  So are you!  Sin or imperfection cannot be allowed to define us.  That is a peace stealer and it is NOT OF GOD.  God loves me because I am His.  It doesn’t have anything to do with what I do or the parts that I don’t like.  God loves me because of who He is–and  HE IS LOVE.

    Here’s my little prayer today.

    We praise you God and thank you for making us just as we are.  We thank you for our friends, family and all those you have given to walk alongside us in this life.  Lord, we ask you to reveal your love to us and to our children in a new and profound way.  Help us look in the mirror and say, “Mighty God, I know you love me.”  Help me shine like the sun so others may see You through me.  Oh, and Jesus…please be with all the Boilermakers who need your powerful presence tonight in their minds and hearts.

    Amen.

    “Whoever is without love does not know God, for God is love.” (1 John 4:8)

  • She’s not going to make it

    Jane M. Thieme Jan. 17, 1943-Dec. 4, 2013
    Jane M. Thieme
    Jan. 17, 1943-Dec. 4, 2013

    “Come now.  She’s not going to make it…”

    I dropped the bag full of groceries on the counter and headed out the door thinking “how can this be?”

    After that, time and details are kind of muddled in my mind.  However, I woke this morning knowing that the grandmother of my boys, Tom’s mom…….Grandma Jane…….is gone.

    Sure, she had been ill.  Yes, she struggled physically.  But, she just baked Drew his favorite pumpkin pie for his birthday.  She was going to the Yuletide show this weekend.  She was headed to Chicago.  How can she be gone?

    Today, this reality is coming over me in waves.  SIGH.  I guess I just needed to type it and see the words come across the screen in front of me today.  So, forgive me for being a touch inarticulate and not terribly inspiring.  This entry?  Well it feels cathartic, so I’m sorry for your luck if you were in the moody for sunshine.

    The funeral was Saturday.  Our parish wrapped us in love and helped us say goodbye.  They anticipated our needs, they fed our family, and our two priests were present to walk alongside on a truly difficult day.  I am grateful for my church.  Catholics know how to say goodbye in the most meaningful and lovely way.

    This is going to be hard.  How can my father in law be okay when half his heart is gone?  I’m not sure.  God’s grace is sufficient says St. Teresa of Avila.  Gosh I hope she’s right.

    THE EULOGY

    Below is a copy of the eulogy.  As my brother in law Jerome aptly put it, I was “voluntold” by the family to write and deliver it at her funeral mass.  I share it here at the request of several.  If there’s anything here of meaning or comfort to anyone, all glory goes to God.

    Good morning.  On behalf of my father-in-law, Tom, as well as Jennie, Mary, my husband Tom and the rest of the family, I want to open by saying thank you.   The sense somebody cares always helps, because that sense is Gods powerful love…and your presence here today is a very great gift you have given us for which we are truly grateful.  Your time, prayers and attendance at this special mass for Jane are the tangible presence of Christ holding our hands as we give her back to Him.

    Since there is absolutely no adequate way to try and do justice to Jane’s big personality in the 3 or 4 minutes I have this morning,  I am just going to remember some of her greatest gifts and how they blessed all our lives.  I’ll start with her insatiable need to seek out the newcomer.   Jane loved to welcome new faces, and did it in her own fantastic way.  We kind of joked when anyone new showed up at a family dinner or event….”here comes her fresh meat!”

    The very first time I visited her home I was 15 years old.  She took one look at me and said, “Well Shelly, that skirt is darling…but you need to come back here to my room so we can look through the jewelry box for a better pair of earrings.  Those silly things you’re wearing are waaay too small.”  In a way that only Jane could pull off, she immediately killed the awkwardness of my greeting the boyfriend’s mom with her own version of “what not to wear.” 

    I have heard so many stories the last few days about her sunny hospitality and unique brand of warmth towards co-workers, cousins, friends, neighbors, old boyfriends….it seems everyone has a “Jane story”, and all of them make people smile. 

    Jane’s heart was soft for anyone down on their luck.  In fact, right this very minute our South Haven cottage handyman is sleeping in her Michigan cottage bedroom because he didn’t have another place to go.  So, over Thanksgiving, she offered him her pillow and a warm place to sleep in exchange for some painting and repairs. 

    This was not new behavior.  On the morning of December 25th many years ago, I was told she noticed a young high school kid milling around outdoors.  His home situation was difficult and he had moved in for a time with the neighbor down the street.  He was locked out I think, and without a Christmas plan…until he ended up at Jane and Tom Thieme’s Christmas morning breakfast on Saw Mill Road.  .  I have no doubt the tree was perfectly trimmed that morning, and I am sure the homemade centerpiece on the table would put Martha Stewart to shame.   I can’t remember his name, but I do recall it gave her great joy to see him on the field playing football for Purdue a couple years after their chance encounter, knowing he was in college and doing well.  Jane had a gift for hospitality. 

    Did I mention she was an extrovert?  She charged her batteries by being with other people.  Her favorite person was, without question, her partner of 49 years, Tom.  She once said to me, and I will never forget it, that if she had been on a quest to marry the most thoughtful and hardworking man in the world, she couldn’t have done any better.  With Jane at his side in all her vivaciousness, I feel safe saying he met and interacted with thousands of people he might never have otherwise encountered.  They always seem to be so comfortable with each other, balancing each other, that their example of a holy marriage will always be to us a beautiful influence in our own lives.

    What else?

    When I listened to Mary Jo, Jennie, and Tom talk the last couple days, I heard about all the summer fun in South Haven when they were kids because to her, things like an extra day of vacation and great games of charades were priorities.  That led to a chat or two about the more recent fun in Michigan had by Thomas, Katie, Nick, Drew and Zach along with us, their parents, and Jane and Tom, orchestrated utterly by her grand plan of cottage ownership about a decade ago.  She handled the bills, she scheduled the repairs, she managed the details none of us wanted to take on…………so that the family could be together, smiling, eating Sherman’s and watching the sunset.

    If Jane could speak to us today, I think the first thing she would say is, “Oh, I don’t want all this fuss over me.”  Oh, but she really would.  She would adore the fuss as much as she loved each of you who touched her life in ways big and small.

    One last thing. Jane did some suffering too.  Her cross seemed especially heavy during many moments the last couple of years.  We weren’t prepared to lose her.  Our hearts weren’t ready.  So, for those of us who have ever thought about saying to God, why this?  Why now?  I have this thought.

    An interviewer asked a young man who had been through extreme suffering and was facing death if he had ever questioned God about why He allowed this to happen.  The young man answered, “Yeah, I ask God why all the time.  Why out of all the people in the world did you choose me?  Because now I am going to spend eternity with you!”

    What an amazing perspective. 

    I leave you with a prayer inspired from psalm 39, which will maybe help us remember how important it is to live simply, not taking ourselves too seriously……….but by loving each other and our God in the light of eternity.  

    Lord, remind me how brief my time on earth will be.

    Remind me that my days are numbered—how fleeting life is.

    You have made my life no longer than the width of my hand.

    My entire lifetime is just a moment to you, each of us is but a breath.

    With you, my God I long to live forever.

    May Jane’s soul and the souls of all the faithful departed rest in peace. 

    AMEN.

  • Let’s Start an Intention Avalanche!

    In her book “Come Be My Light”, Mother Teresa shocked the world with the revelation of her deep interior darkness.  During this time, God used her radiant smile to shine one of the brightest lights of modern times on countless people all over the world.  This is what came into my mind today when a positive and faith filled friend sent out a message this morning which gave me pause.  I want to share part of it with you.

    Everyone will go through some hard times at some point.  Life isn’t easy.  Just something to think about…Did you know the people that are the strongest are usually the most sensitive? Did you know the people who exhibit the most kindness are the first to get mistreated? Did you know the ones who take care of others all the time are usually the ones who need it the most? Sometimes just because a person looks happy, you have to look past their smile and see how much pain they may be in. To all my friends who are going through some issues right now–Let’s start an intention avalanche.

    The sentiment expressed here is a bit sad but truly lovely at the same time.  I read it as a call to pray for all of those around us, especially those who smile at us radiantly.  Every person—family member, neighbor, colleague– in our path was put there by our all-knowing and loving God.  We have to care enough to pray for them, love them, even though they may not ask.

    The note above was sent by a sparkly and positive person– a mom– that I regularly encounter.  I am ashamed to say that I cannot recall having before offered a single prayer for her.  You see, she seems to be doing just great, and she never asked.  That’s not okay.  A friend shouldn’t have to look miserable or advertise their illness or struggle in order to be “prayer worthy”.

    “Love one another deeply, from the heart.”  –1 Peter 1:22

    Admittedly, I get a fair number of prayer requests.  I consider this a great honor and privilege, and I also think it’s just the influence of my big personality.  I make  “friends” with bank tellers and bag boys and small talk with coaches and kindergarteners.  Just yesterday, for example,  I found myself searching for prune juice at O’Malias with a cute old guy who was a bit turned around and couldn’t find the juice aisle.  I thought I knew where everything was at that store, in fact, until tested on the prune juice.  But, my new bff, Stanley, and I did find it! The “never met a stranger” gene is a gift inherited from my Dad.  Is this a blessing, or a curse?  Ha?!

    This kind of giftedness, however, should not be mistaken with the kind of faithful friendship that is possible when we open our lives and hearts up to others.  We have to be willing to take the risk of vulnerability when we lay out the welcome mat to our hearts.  This is why I work hard to honor all the prayer requests, even if it means that I offer a single “Glory Be” on my busiest days for a particular intention.  Someone has usually risked revealing fear or genuine interior desire when they ask for prayer, after all.

    However, today’s message made me realize, that’s not going to cut it.

    “Blessed are they who have the gift of making friends, for it is one of God’s best gifts.  It involves many things, but above all, the power of getting out of one’s self and appreciating whatever is noble and loving in another.”   — Thomas Hughes

    When we look up from our own lives to notice those around us, we have the opportunity to multiply joy or divide grief.  We have to understand silence sometimes speaks loudly too.

    It used to be when I heard about this idea of “prayer without ceasing” that I pictured pious little nuns with bloody knees.  It didn’t make the idea of being near God all day long sound like anything but a crummy idea.

    Here’s what I think about prayer now.  Prayer is speaking to God in the quiet of our hearts, but it is also sneaking in the back door to do the dishes of the neighbor who hasn’t asked but needs the help.  It’s keeping your girlfriend’s kiddo, it’s sending a birthday card, a sunny text message to a teenager, making a breakfast date, or popping in to grab a hug.  These things take time, it’s true.  That too is a prayer though, and it honors God in a way that is possible for minivan moms like me.

    “Whoever refreshes others will himself be refreshed.”  –-Prov 11:25

    Today, to thank God for the special people in my life, I am going to pray by action.  I choose my sparkly friend who today selected a unique way to say “help me.”  I am honoring her by letting her know how I see Jesus through her, that I am thinking about her, and that I am thankful for the friendship.  I hope she will feel Jesus hugging her with my hands.

    “There are so many hurts that circumstances and the world inflict upon us, we need the constant reinforcement of encouragement.”  –Billy Graham

    To all reading this today:  Know that you are loved.  Don’t ever forget that Love came all the way down here to earth to help us in our helplessness.

    Now, pass it on!  Get busy!

  • Forgive Me, Father, for the Crappy Attitude

    All Saint’s Day and Halloween were on a collision course this year here in Carmel.  I don’t ever recall a government entity before changing the date of a holiday because of rain.  I remember loathing the whole “when I was a kid, we used to walk 3 miles uphill both ways…” line of chatter that seemed to emanate from some members of my extended family.  They always seemed to think that we “young people” were “soft”.

    I have to say, I am old enough to finally understand where they were coming from.  My thought process a couple weeks ago was that Halloween belongs in October and the kids need to “man up!”

    Therefore, it will be of zero surprise that I decided we would NOT postpone Halloween and we just marched forward with our annual party.  The house was filled with the laughter of 21 kids and many of their parents.  Captain America, Jake from State Farm, a “Cereal” Killer, Cliff Paul, a Taco, a Tennessee Volunteer, an Artist, a Mouse, a Cowboy and several other children ages 9-16 took to the streets in the rain in search of giggles and some chocolate!

    Returning to the house soaking wet and with precious little “loot”, their spirits were high nevertheless.  We dug through drawers and passed out dry t-shirts from my sons’ closets and the kids ate chicken and noodles and downed the candy that I had purchased for neighborhood trick-or-treaters who stayed home this year.  Some played X-box, some sat around the table and laughed, some played foosball………and they all laughed at each other’s rain soaked Halloween hair.

    All I could think was about how blessed we all are to be surrounded by the smiles of happy, healthy children—and that of all the Halloweens, it’s this uber- wet 2013 that they’ll all surely remember.

    “See what love the Father has bestowed on us that we may be called children of God.  Yet so we are.” (1Jn 3:1)

    The next morning at All Saint’s Day mass, I heard this bit of scripture in the second reading.  It struck a chord.   Actually, it kind of stung me.

    SEE WHAT LOVE!

    God is so good to me.  I would have to bet He is getting a little bugged by my lack of a grateful heart in return.  He pours on blessing after blessing, and I shrug them off, take them for granted and grumble back at Him like my son does when I ask him to take out the trash.

    He gave me amazing parents, 3 healthy thoughtful boys, a cute, funny husband, a wonderful city to live in, a parish full of compassionate people, terrific schools for the education of my children, 2 gorgeous Goddaughters, a fav sis, sunsets…mad air hockey skills….and on and on.

    So, why is it that I so often fail to gracefully carry the small crosses of everyday life?

    The rude neighbor, the pounding headache, the coach who doesn’t seem to appreciate the “awesomeness” of my child, the little boy who prefers not to bathe—I am not gracious interiorly on these matters.  Even my most patient moment is far from what I would deem “Mary-like”.

    “Everybody’s got a little larceny operating in them, surely you know that?”  –Bing Crosby

    Sidebar:  If you know the movie this quote comes from, then you are eligible for an automatic upgrade to first class in my book.  Bing’s made a good point though, hasn’t he?

    Allow me to digress and provide a just one specific example representative of the greater series of failures that has been on my heart lately.

    Several days ago, my youngest came home after practice a bit overwhelmed.  He was tired and hungry and his teacher was clearly out of control.   It seems he announced there would be a big test THE NEXT DAY!  Ugh!  My sad, freckled faced boy was frustrated and exhausted.

    “How long have you had this 4 page study guide, hon?”

    “Today, Mom.  We just found out today.”

    “Are you sure?  You didn’t have any more notice?  1 day?”

    “Uh huh.”

    Well, I was irked.  You see, my little man is not quite there yet when it comes to independent study.  This 8pm development also occurred just moments before the Colts were going to take over my large family room TV.  I was already in my jams, ready to watch Andrew Luck get it done on Monday Night Football.  NOW, I was in the study helping my third grader understand wavelength and amplitude.

    THEN, it hit me.

    I  texted my friend whose son is in Zach’s class.

    “How long has Anth had the science study guide?”

    The quick reply was “He brought it home Friday, why?”

    AHA!!!!  The irritable feeling I was having towards my son’s science teacher was irrevocably transferred to the little criminal I am raising.

    Suffice it to say I had an ugly temper tantrum and followed it up with an inappropriately loud homily about honesty.

    Sadly, this one might be my holiest child.  He’s the one who asks me to read to him about the saints, and who says things like “Jesus likes it when we come to mass.”  I couldn’t seem to recall that while I was missing the Colts game to try and pass 3rd grade science….AGAIN.

    But Bing was right.  There’s a little larceny operating in all of us.   This poor kid clearly inherited an extra dose of it from his maternal side of the family.

    Still, a grateful, grace-filled mother would certainly have handled this situation with more patient affection than I did.  I believe it may even be possible to sincerely and lovingly teach the lesson on honesty to the little criminal (ha?), or endure the headache without grumbling, speak well of the coach who cut your kid from the team, or smile at the difficult neighbor who dislikes your every move– for the love of Christ who loves us tenderly– even though we might be filled with piles of imperfections and a healthy dose of larceny ourselves.

    I am screwing it up.  God just loves me up.  I give him back attitude.  Real mature huh?  I am not proud of myself.

    So I went to confession this week.  I told my confessor that I have a crappy attitude.  I told him how blessed my life is and how I just interiorly feel bugged and exhausted every time God asks me to bear a little tiny cross.  I might outwardly even be sunny, but inside I have an ungrateful heart.  He smiled and he let me exhale—at considerable length.  The guy is going to heaven.  Then, he absolved me.  He reminded me how I profess to enjoy St. Therese—whose life literally is a book on this exact subject of bearing our little crosses in love.  He told me to get over myself, carry my crosses, and go to the chapel and say a prayer of gratitude.

    Geez I love that sacrament.  I went to that chapel and I did my penance.  There, I read this:

    “Brothers and sisters:  we, though many, are one Body in Christ and individually parts of one another.  Since we have gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us exercise them; if prophecy, in proportion to the faith; if ministry, in ministering; if one is a teacher, in teaching; if one exhorts, in exhortation; if one contributes, in generosity; if one is over others; with diligence; if one does acts of mercy, with cheerfulness.

    Let love be sincere; hate what is evil, hold onto what is good; love one another with mutual affection; anticipate one another in showing honor.  Do not grow slack in zeal, be fervent in spirit, serve the Lord, Rejoice in hope, endure in affliction, and persevere in prayer.  Contribute to the needs of the holy ones, exercise hospitality.  Bless those who persecute you, bless and do not curse them.  Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.”  (Romans 12: 6-15)

    Okay, God.  I hear your marching orders.  Thanks for giving me a do-over…..AGAIN.

     

     

  • It’s Up to You- No More Than Two

    Banner at Northview High School in southern Indiana
    Banner at Northview High School in southern Indiana

    “It’s up to you, no more than two.”

    In an apparent attempt to “educate” the students entrusted to their care, the powers that be at Northview High School (right here in Indiana….Brazil, Indiana to be exact) have posted this banner.  The title of the banner is “Zero Population Growth”.

    If we stop having so many children, the world is going to be vastly improved.  That’s the message.

    I had no idea Tom and I were contributing to the downfall of humanity.  Thanks, Northview, for clearing that up for us with your math project.

    What I think is that this is an unbelievable example of the culture of death which permeates our lives and those of our young people.  Offensive is the most gracious adjective whose use I could tolerate here.

    Check out this story for more details and decide for yourself.

    http://on-this-rock.blogspot.com/2013/10/why-we-need-solid-catholic-schools.html?m=1

    What does our Lord have to say?

    “God blessed them and said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply.  Fill the earth and govern it.  Reign over the fish in the sea, the birds in the sky, and all the animals the scurry along the ground.”  (Gen 1:28)

    Let us pray:

    St. Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle.  Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil.  May God rebuke him, we humbly pray; and do thou, O Prince of the heavenly host, by the Power of God, cast into hell Satan and all evil spirits who prowl throughout the world seeking the ruin of souls.  Amen.