He Never Misses

Category: Catholic School

  • The Knee Brace

    Meandering across the church parking lot waiting for kids to come out of school, I ran into another carpool mom, a woman with whom I am familiar, but we are not close friends.

    Oh gosh! What happened to your knee? Are you okay?

    The moment I asked, I kind of regretted being nosy. Classic Shelly, I thought.  However, then came her truly hysterical reply.

    Honestly, I am totally fine. It’s just that I am SO incredibly out of shape that I can barely breathe even walking super slow on the treadmill.  With the brace on my knee, people will assume I am rehabbing and working out is less humiliating.

    HAHAHAHAHA!! You are both funny and brilliant!

    I laughed until I couldn’t breathe. I so completely identified with this authentic, sunny woman.

    How many of us feel both ashamed and humiliated by the shape we are in, by the way we look? If it’s not that, then it’s something else, right?  Based purely on the utterly unscientific data I have collected from my “vast sphere of influence” (ie, other carpool moms, facebook, and in the stands at HS basketball games), literally EVERYONE has some issue about which they would prefer NOT to be judged.

    Here’s the thing. This itty bitty slice of my life was just a fantastic reminder to me.  Never look down on anyone.  Only God sits that high.  Here’s a little quote I love, written by St. Josemaria Escriva.  He said, “If you have so many defects, why are you surprised to find defects in others?”

    So this was just a tiny interaction in the carpool line. At first blush, it was just the most fantastic giggle.  Laughing is my favorite, so I shared the small story about the knee brace with a few friends.  I was hoping to share a smile.

    As I looked back on that encounter, I realized it was something much more. It was God talking to me.  He does it all the time; it’s just that I’m not always listening.

    Understand this well: there is something holy, something divine hidden in the most ordinary situations, and it is up to each one of you to discover it.” –St. Josemaria Escriva

    Christian optimism should encourage us to demand a little of ourselves. Let’s open our eyes and hearts.  As Lent begins, this is an important struggle for us to undertake.  Responding to God’s call, being aware that we are free to do so or free to reject it, is the most wonderful experience of grace.

    For instance, I found myself just this week having a conversation about the power of grace. I was trying to point out to a couple of struggling parents that the benefits of Catholic education outweigh the frustrations that they were feeling about the experience.  A woman sitting near me, who overheard part of the chat, interjected and told me she’s not religious and she isn’t sure if she believes there is a God.  She asked me why do I think there is?  It was clearly not the moment for a big theological response—which is good because that is NOT my area of giftedness.  She was judging, being cynical, and truth be told, it was clear she wasn’t really interested in my reply.  So, I just said, “Because He winks at me, ALL THE TIME.”

    She put down her drink and looked at me, and said, “He does, does He? Tell me about one of those winks.”

    So, I shared with her the first thing that came to my mind. I told her about hearing that a priest had been relocated from the east coast to here in Indiana, and that I had further learned he didn’t have any mass intentions.  So, I sent him an encouraging note, along with a few bucks and some mass intentions—mostly for family members who had died.  There was my grandmother who had just died, my mother in law, the parents of some close friends, etc.  The last mass intention was for myself.  I sent it off to Muncie, expecting to never hear another thing about it, but confident I’d done a good thing.

    Some weeks later, I received a reply note from the secretary of this parish in Muncie. It listed all the dates of masses being said for the intentions I’d requested.  The last one listed was a mass being said for my intentions—ON MY BIRTHDAY.

    I don’t know this priest, nor do I have any connections with the secretary. God just loves me so much and He wanted me to feel it.  Only He knows truly how much I love the mass.   For my birthday, He gave me the greatest gift I can imagine.  It was a God wink that took my breath away.

    Mostly, I think God’s little moments for each of us are meant to be private consolations. They’re just between us and Him.  But this one came tumbling out when I heard “prove it”, so that’s my sign that it’s a Holy Spirit moment.

    My little story was perhaps poorly conveyed. I kind of meandered through it, attempting to “put on a knee brace” throughout.  It’s a tad late in the game to try to hide the fact that I’m a Jesus girl, but in certain company that really does make a person feel like a unicorn.  I was exactly like that acquaintance from the carpool line.  I didn’t want to be judged, but I really wanted to do the right thing anyway.

    That, folks, is the power of grace. In all our weakness, God still manages to work His magic through us in all His magnificence.  It’s pretty freaking hilarious and breathtaking at the same time when I think about it.  There I was trying to explain why I know God exists while trying to be “casual” about my Jesus girl-ness…what even is that?  Good grief.

    This Lent, I plan to take a little time to fast from some things—like harsh judgements, complaining, and bitterness. It seems like a really appropriate time to focus on gratitude, kindness, and forgiveness.  Also?  Maybe less carbs.  Less carbs would be good too.

    It seems kind of perfect to me this year that Lent starts on Valentine’s Day, because here’s what I want everyone to know. Know you’re loved – infinitely–by our good and gracious God.  Let all He has done out of love for YOU seep to the very center of you for the next 40 days.  Happy Lent.

     

  • Be Like Will.

    Ummm…Drew?  Did I hear the doorbell ring at 11:30 last night?

    Yeah, Mom.  You did.   All you need to know is that Oby is an amazing friend!  I gotta go!!

    Ok, then.  Have a great day, D!

    The above conversation was one of those “I’ve got no time and I am running late so make it quick, Mom” moments.  Every mother of an 18 year old knows what I’m saying.  In this case, my middle kid had gotten very little sleep.  He had played his basketball game and gotten home about 10pm the previous evening.  He arrived home starving, so I shoved a sandwich and some apple slices at him.  Then, he hustled upstairs to work on homework.  I knew he would be up until all hours.  His academic load is significant— by his own choice.  He’s a bright kid and a hard worker but I do worry about him.  It’s a mom thing.  Is he getting enough sleep?  Is the insane IB homework load just too much?  Would it be better for him to have more time for just being a goofy kid?  You get it.  All of us who have kids constantly have this little interior chatter.

    This particular day stands out to me, because as the day wore on, I learned more details about the late night visit of one Will Oberndorfer.  It was a God wink.

    Apparently, in the new world of electronic everything, there are online quizzes and apps you must have operational, plus midnight deadlines for assignments….all sorts of things I cannot imagine as I compare my son’s academic experience to my own.  I don’t even pretend to understand any of it, and I am truly thankful to God that I was born in 1971.  Pencils, paper and dogs that ate homework were all actual things back in the day.  I digress.  Anyway, on Tuesday night after Drew had his sandwich and a shower, he began his homework marathon later than normal.  It was pushing 11pm.  Shortly after plopping down at his desk, Drew realized that there was a glitch causing his computer to be unable to run some application he needed in order to successfully complete a required quiz by midnight.  He texted his friends—the other crazy young people who are also up half the night, every night, trying to finish their own work.  He was wondering if any of them knew a way to fix the computer issue.  None did.  His friend Oby offered to let Drew come over to his house and use his working computer.  Drew didn’t want to bother his buddy so late.  He then just thanked his friends anyway deciding he would have to just take the zero this time.  He would take his computer into the Guerin Catholic IT folks in the morning for a technical assist.

    Then, the doorbell rang.  It was 11:30pm.

    I don’t want you to take the zero.

    There was Oby.  He had an operational computer for Drew to borrow to take the quiz.

    Was it just a small act of kindness?  Yes.  Did it feel small to Drew?  No.

    This week, God used a terrific teenager named Will Oberndorfer to remind me, again, how we can all effect positive change in this crazy, wonderful, and sometimes breathtakingly desperate world.  It’s done one kind act at a time, right in the place where you live.  Simply put:  BE THE FRIEND EVERYONE WISHES THEY HAD.

    If we’re all working to be the face and hands of Christ, pretty soon it’s going to be incredibly difficult to go anywhere and NOT see how much we are ALL deeply loved by our truly awesome God.

    Atta boy, Oby!  You are the REAL DEAL, kid.

    Spread love everywhere you go.  Let no one ever come to you without leaving happier.  –Mother Teresa

  • Your Sweater’s on Inside Out

    Humility is not thinking less of yourself, but thinking of yourself less.  –CS Lewis.

    Typically, my neighbor schleps Zach to school each morning.  I’m the afternoon shift.  The carpool pickup slot has some cons to consider… waiting endlessly in a parking lot, kids eating leftover Doritos in the backseat, and fairly large arguments about who spotted the yellow car and first yelled, “SKITTLE!!!!”  However, on the plus side, the carpool pickup slot which is assigned to yours truly occurs during this coveted time called afternoon.  The morning?  It happens pretty early.

    “Wow the morning people have a quiet gig, ” I thought to myself as I shivered all the way to SLDM this morning.  Considering the early hour of exit, I was in pretty solid spirits.  “Look at me all showered and dressed in this (low-key) adorable outfit, and it’s only 7am!” Positively self-congratulatory, I was in the pre-dawn carpool line.

    Passing off the dress clothes for the junior high dance, the CYO uniform for the big game at OLMC in the morning, and the overnight bag, (all belonging to my little man), I knew this day was destined for greatness.  I really have got my act together this fine Friday.  My dear friend Renee, victim of the handoff, is one of those people who can wear pjs during the daytime or throw on a ball cap and still look darling. When I try that, well, picture a rounder version of Gilda Radner as Roseanne Roseannadanna on SNL.  Too young to have the vision?  Google it.  She was hysterical and with hair that looked like it had been electrocuted.  Today, though, I had it going on.  Guerin Catholic purple and black, warm and cozy black boots and purple nail polish too!  BOOM!

    I was ready to take on the world.  I had a long list of (mostly Christmas) errands, and I was already dressed for the big game against the cross-town rival.  I had a date planned pre-game with my sweetie, AND I had time to start my day at mass.  YEAH ME!!

    Taking my favorite seat up front so I can be close to Jesus, I prayed for so many people and I was pretty proud of the fact that I had written down their names this time.  The world is full of hurting hearts and broken bodies.  I gave them all to God.  I was feeling groovy.  As I grabbed my coat and turned to go, there was a tap on my shoulder.  “Shelly, your sweater is on inside out. If I were you, I would want to know.”

    HAHAHAHA!!!  The lightbulb came on instantly.  Message received, Lord.

    It’s good you were here, Shelly, but hello?  Forget to thank anyone for your zillions of blessings?  Psalm 90, my dear girl.  Try reading it. That’s what I heard interiorly with the tap on my shoulder.

    He’s gentle and He’s patient.  Pride is about my glory; humility is about God’s glory.  I feel like I read that in Ephesians somewhere.  Maybe I need to read the whole book and find that bit of scripture.  I’m pretty sure God isn’t so impressed with people who watch themselves worship and who don’t bother thanking Him.

    Thank you, Lord for opening my eyes to Your blessings and the grace to acknowledge who You are and how You love me this day and always.  And, Lord, thanks for smiling at me even when I act like an idiot.  I’m going to try opening with gratefulness tomorrow. I love you too. 

    Yours, Shelly

    I might be slightly less amazing than I led myself to believe this morning.  BUT, I am still a truly beloved child of God AND SO ARE YOU.  Let’s help each other remember that one, huh?

  • An Open Letter to my Catholic Friends…

    Dear Friends,

    I’m going to be honest. Humor eludes me today. At the grocery store this morning, I overheard half of a conversation that bothered me.

    “I know Ann, I gotta go because I am at the grocery now, but I don’t know what she’s thinking letting her daughter go to that school next year with all those backward, elitist Catholics. Plus, Catholic school is SO expensive!”

    I said nothing, but it felt like a very personal blow. To be fair, I arrived at the grocery store in a posture that was poised for anger and I felt defensive. Therefore, the longer I thought about it, the more annoyed I became with this stranger who obviously doesn’t know anything about us or our church. To call me BUGGED would have been an inadequate characterization.

    I appreciate your consideration about my perspective on this, but first, I’d like to remind you about who we are as Catholics, because this gal and her comments sent me exactly to the center of my political frustrations too. Good people, I PROMISE this is NOT a political post. I’m just acknowledging my head is right in the middle of the muck coming across my Twitter feed and TV and I am trying to be real. One of the news stations this morning re-ran part of an interview from a couple years back. It was a prominent figure making a staggering claim that the Catholic Church is responsible for 50% of social services in the United States. The media, predictably, pounced on that with mountains of statistical “fact checking” about how Catholic Charities, while one of the largest charities in the country, falls far short of that mark.

    This is true. Catholic Charities serves ONLY about 10 million individuals annually, BUT these millions are served regardless of their own religious, social or economic backgrounds. Some of it’s more well-known partner organizations include Habitat for Humanity as well as Catholic Charities Disaster Relief. In short, they work hard to reduce poverty and provide emergency relief throughout the US and well beyond. It’s hardly an insignificant contribution (and definitely not rooted in elitism).

    I wanted to yell at the screen, “Someone, anyone? Defend us!!”

    To understand the social services impact of the Catholic Church, though, I thought, one needs to understand that our country is home to a vast network of Catholic hospitals and health systems, and that the University system in our country was largely a Catholic invention. Also, within the 195 dioceses, there are approximately 18,000 Catholic parishes in the USA. I “Googled” it.

    Let me say it another way.  The parish nearest my home is Our Lady of Mt. Carmel in Carmel, Indiana. This parish built and operates the 13,000 sq. ft. Matthew 25 Center, which includes a large food pantry, the Trinity Free Clinic, and serves THOUSANDS annually. They meet the needs of marginalized people from all walks of life EVERY SINGLE DAY. Their network of volunteers from doctors and dentists to retirees, as well as housewives and their children is astounding.

    The parish school my son attends at St. Louis de Montfort in nearby Fishers also houses a food pantry. The parish gives 10% of collections, or about $250,000 (I’m guessing) annually to meet the needs of the community by supporting financially and with manpower many local charities doing good work that aren’t necessarily affiliated with the Catholic Church. One recent collection, for instance, went to a local shelter that provides emergency housing for women who have escaped domestic abuse. The parish regularly houses families on their campus who are struggling with homelessness as part of their partnership with the Interfaith Hospitality Network (among a zillion other worthy endeavors).

    These two parishes whose compassionate contributions I have sorely underreported here are QUITE representative of the incredible work the other 17,998 or so parishes are making. My husband is the CPA, not me. I just know this amounts to a boat load of people helping a boat load of other people.

    Guess what? I KNOW YOU good Catholic people with your sleeves rolled up all over your community, and I know you don’t really give a rip how much “credit” you get for who you help. The vast majority of you simply want to be the hands and face of Christ to those around you. You inspire me. You make me want to be more and do more! You all are trying to do small things with great love, as St. Mother Teresa advised. Some of you are old fussbudgets, others are sales people, teachers, pediatricians, high school kids….so many hands are in the mix.

    Where are you going with this, Shelly??

    Here’s where I am going.

    “Hey, Carmel! Hey Fishers! Hey America! WE LOVE YOU!”

    When you are down on your luck, come find us. We are literally EVERYWHERE. We’ve got nuns that will help care for your Uncle Henry who’s down on his luck and priests who will help his daughter find a counselor and a great gal named Jayne who will get her a bag of groceries and some new undies.

    We’ve got Universities who help underprivileged young people get a college education who couldn’t otherwise afford one—and a student body filled with so much heart they are building houses for people on the weekends and tutoring students in your local public school for free.

    We’ve got hospitals. We’ve got grade school kids making PB&J’s who will pass one to you to take along for the road after you leave the food pantry. We’ve got HS kids taking their day off after finals to come rake your leaves. We have thousands of those little old “church ladies” and countless Catholic prayer groups who will pray for you– and if you need help with food for your brother’s funeral–we’ve got your back.

    Stop in and see us.

    When you call us names or tell us we’re backwards, we’re human. It makes us sad. When you think it’s okay to disrespect our beliefs, and especially where it relates to ending the lives of the most vulnerable, it makes our hearts weep. Broken hearted people don’t always think straight or articulate well. For those times where we have failed, we ask your forgiveness. We will work on our behavior. It doesn’t change the fact that we are right here and we want to help—no matter who you are or where you live.

    Catholic friends, when did disagreeing become something that must express itself venomously? WE, as a group, need to do a better job understanding that people weren’t exactly a big fan of Jesus either (and we are CLEARLY NOT HIM) and rest in the Lord. That’s all. The anger and defensive posture are unbecoming.

    As my 12-year-old son says, “We’re a good family.” Like all good families, we are full of flaws. But don’t be led astray. Our church is born of Christ Himself, and it’s okay to be proud to be Catholic.

    With God’s help, we’ll keep trying to respect one another and do better. We must.

    If I have the chance to talk sometime directly to the heart of folks like the woman I overhead at the grocery today? I would say this. “I’m worried about some of you guys. Some of you don’t see how BELOVED YOU ARE. Hey you! Yes, you! God loves you. He’s better at loving than any human being could ever be, and He sees everything amazing about you.”

    My faithful friends, my Jesus girls, my peeps…. If you know that, really KNOW THAT, in your heart, then you are blessed beyond words. I’m asking you to please join me in prayer for our country? It’s full of angry people who do and say evil things which means they don’t know God loves them, y’all. It breaks my heart. I’ve been there. It’s a really crappy place to live. Let’s ask God to use us to be His face and His hands to show them what love looks like.

    “There is no place for selfishness—and no place for fear! Do not be afraid then when love makes demands. Do not be afraid when love requires sacrifice.” (St. Pope John Paul II)

  • Just hand over the chocolate…

    “It must be nice to live in your optimistic, sunny damn world.”

    That was the insult hurled at me by my truly handy husband at the moment of his exasperation.  He was in the middle of hanging a very large TV from an impossibly uncooperative mount above our fireplace.  At the moment of his greatest frustration, I said something about how amazing he is and how I knew he would have it solved and looking good in mere moments.

    Truth be told, had it been me in his place, I’m quite sure I would have been uber annoyed by the chirping of happy thoughts too.

    However, I do think attitude is everything, and I know happiness is something you have to help yourself to.  Sometimes, though, I forget.  Moments like this one with Tom happen and they are like little post-it notes from the Holy Spirit.  They help me to remember how my attitude influences the quality of my relationships and how joyful my life is each day.

    Some things we can control (like choosing optimism), and others we cannot.

    Controlling the fact that my oldest son is soon moving out of the house isn’t something I can or even want to control.  Still, it’s the most bittersweet thing imaginable and it’s never far from my mind.  I’ve read the articles on what I should expect with this “limbo summer” and how normal and natural it is for my kid to do all the things he’s doing.  It’s the slow untangling to his more independent life.  I get it.

    I’d been told about the rising tension between us that would come from nowhere and I’d hoped those moms were just wrong about me and Nick Fred.  The warnings were clear about younger siblings lamenting the loss to come and trying to cling a bit to their brother, but that I should expect that will be to no avail.  The warning about him staying up too late, retreating to the basement and spending every available moment with everyone but us was issued.  Those “mentor moms” around me have warned me.  It’s normal.  It’s fine.  I thought I was prepared.  I’m not.

    So, today, it’s time to reframe.

    What I reeeeallly want is for my son to just stay right here by his mom and talk to me.  I want him to know in his core that he is loved beyond measure and that we believe in him.  I want him to know he must work hard and be honest, and have fun, and dream big and laugh often and be true to himself.  I want him to know I’m not really mad about the giant pile of clean laundry that sat for DAYS in his cubby in the mud room.  I want him to know it’s not really a federal offense that when he did eventually move it that he put it on the staircase and made an even more gigantic mess.  I need him to understand that he DOES need to finish the thank you notes for all the generous graduation gifts but that my nagging tone about all of this really just hides the incredibly proud and completely broken heart that is underneath the noise of my always loud voice.

    In 2 months, his giant pile of folded clothes which has fallen over sideways will be gone.  That silly green “Tebow” Jets t-shirt which matches NOTHING will not be waiting for me to fold it again and roll my eyes.  Part of my heart will be living in Cincinnati.   I have this lump in my throat that won’t go away.  Also, I am bursting with excitement and pride.  Reconciling all of that has been a struggle.

    What this Jesus girl does when she’s struggling is look for guidance.

    “Certainly sons are a gift from the Lord.”  Yep.  It’s right there in Psalm 127.  BOOM!

    So, I’m not delusional.  I know I will continue to be a complete contradiction of feelings.

    Mostly, though, I just feel love.  How unbelievably grateful I am!

    God is love.  That’s another thing I know and good gosh it sure helps.  If God is….well….God, and I am just Shelly then I’m thinking He probably loves my kid even more than I do.  Come to think of it, He must love ME that much too.  It will all be well.

    For 18 years, I have known the face of Jesus through this kiddo.  He is indeed a gift from the Lord.  Tom and I?  We have been blessed beyond measure by this big bear of a kid named Nick.  It’s time.  He’s ready.

    NickandMe
    Nick Fred and me after the baccalaureate mass.

    Happiness is available, and I hereby choose it.  That feels like the grateful, optimistic and holy choice I can make that will honor the God of the universe.

    THAT SAID:  If you have a kid in the class of 2020 moving into Buenger Hall on the campus of Xavier University this August 18, I recommend you carry chocolate with you.  My research tells me that 20 out of 20 people like chocolate and I am definitely one of them.  Just hand over the chocolate calmly and no one will get hurt.

    St. Francis Xavier…..pray for us!

  • Eagle Eyes

    Mother Guerin“His hemoglobin is at 7?  What does that mean?”

    “Well, as you know he threw up blood, and his numbers being what they are….what we know is that he is bleeding.”

    “So what course of action are you thinking is needed, Doc?”

    “We’ll do a blood transfusion, give him 2 units of blood, then look at the numbers again.  If he vomits again in the meantime, we will need to send him by ambulance to Kalamazoo.”

    Barbara and I glanced at each other and then back to her brother, (my father-in-law) Tom.  He was conscious but so weak and lethargic that his few words were breathy and his eyelids were impossibly heavy.  We were both worried.  She excused herself to go home and call Tom’s twin sister, Josephine in Chicago.  I stepped outside to talk to the doctor.

    “We’ll hope that he can stabilize after we do the transfusion, but I would say there is a more than even chance we may need intervention tonight that I am not qualified to handle.  You need to prepare yourself for that possibility.”

    I called my husband out of his meeting and let him know that a 3 hour drive from Indy to Michigan was NOW in order.  I followed that up an an SOS to my parents.  My three boys were left managing alone.  We needed Grandma Kate or Grandpa Jim to stop what they were doing, making a spontaneous road trip to solve that.  I sent a quick text to my oldest Nick, 17, to explain the situation.  I knew he could manage for a while.  He has a car, and he is a responsible kid, and he would watch out for Drew and Zach until arrangements could be made.  Then, I headed back upstairs to room 245 at South Haven Community Hospital.  I said a quick prayer to God to keep my whole family safe and provide me a clear mind and peace of heart.

    It was a long day and night Tuesday and even now the medical struggle continues to unfold.  I was there on watch for my kind hearted and very ill father-in-law for three days, and I came home last night.  My sister-in-law, Mary Jo, replaced me and is now in charge of white blood cell counts and hemoglobin numbers.  Serious illness causes chaos for the patient, as well as their family.  Of course we wouldn’t be anywhere else, we love him and want to be there.  If you have lived more than two decades of life though, you have likely been in the midst of a similar circumstance at one time or another, so you will understand.  So, we pray and we do our best.

    gcbaseballpicHere’s the thing.  God is so good to us.  We ask, and invariably, He scoops us up.  He finds a way to show Himself to us if we are paying attention.  Let me tell you about our God “wink” from Tuesday.  It came courtesy of the Guerin Catholic High School Baseball team.

    While his parents were a state away worried sick over Grandpa Tom, our oldest son Nick was at baseball practice.  Remember, he now knew that he was (albeit temporarily) in charge of his brothers.  On his way out to the field, he looked down at the lanyard which carries his car key, only to discover that while the key fob was there, the key itself had fallen off and vanished.  Imagine how he must have felt?  He is concerned about his grandpa who is gravely ill.  He is responsible for his brothers.  His car is now of no use to him and there is no way to get another key without having the car towed to a dealer.  Did I mention he has no credit card?  No checkbook?

    What can he do?  He has no choice.  He starts retracing his steps.  He is looking back and forth from his car to the baseball field and back again.  His buddy, Cole, sees him and beings helping him look for his key.  Then, Cole goes and solicits the help of a couple of others.  No luck.  Word spreads that Nick has lost his key and before long he looks up to discover that the ENTIRE GC BASEBALL PROGRAM is scouring the ground for his key.  Guess what?  After several minutes pass and Nick has headed inside to make sure no one turned it in to lost and found….in the grass, on the ground, the key is FOUND!  It’s not a small search area.  Truly, it was like finding a needle in a haystack.  WHEW!!

    I have no doubt that Nick was teased mercilessly about losing his key.  Probably, he will not live it down.  I promise you from the palpable relief in his voice as he recounted the story, he doesn’t mind a bit.  Do you know what else?  Those kids and those coaches HAD NO IDEA how important it was on that day, for that kid that his key was located.  They could just as easily have ignored Nick and his lost key.  That’s not how they roll though….and that’s what makes it so awesome!  They were just doing what they do.  They were being kind, living examples of Christian community.

    Had it been a normal day, he could have phoned me for backup.  Or Dad.  Or Grandpa.  On TUESDAY, Nick Thieme just needed his key.  Period.

    So, later, after he had picked up dinner for his brothers and things had settled down, Nick shared his story with me which I stood in the parking lot at that hospital 3 hours north of him to check in.  He said, “Thank GOD Mom!  Kyle found my key.  I almost added to the crisis.  Oh my gosh, I was so relieved!”

    I am not going to lie.  Tuesday was DEFINITELY in the “Not Top 10” for the Thieme family.  BUT, if we are people of faith, we have to decide.  We have to decide to trust God and His plan for our lives and CHOOSE to see Him loving us even during times of trial.

    “Therefore, everyone who hears these words of mind and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on rock.  The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against the house; yet it did not fall, because it had it’s foundation on rock.”  MT 7:24-26

    So, GOD IS GOOD.  He used young hands, feet and EYES of the Guerin Catholic baseball family to let us know He is here on a colossally crummy day, and He loves us.

    Golden Eagles hear me.  THANK YOU for being the face of Jesus to our family this week.  There are high calorie desserts in your futures, courtesy of the Thieme family.  They will be behind the dugout on a night you least expect it!

    St. Theodore Guerin…………………….PRAY FOR US!

  • Losing Shannon

    My dear friend, Janet (L) and her beautiful sister, Shannon (R).
    My dear friend, Janet (L) and her beautiful sister, Shannon (R).

    Dear Jesus,
    I do trust You, but I don’t get it. I know You love us, but wrapping my head around this is impossible. She is with You now, in arms more loving than I can imagine. Help us to trust in Your plan for all of us. Fill Connor and Danny, Jan, Colleen, Rita and Danny with grace and peace. I ask this in Your most holy name. Amen.

    He folded his little body in half, burying his face between his knees. No sound came from him but a puddle was forming on the otherwise dry sidewalk there on the bluff overlooking Lake Michigan. The grotto said, “Our Lady of Lourdes” but I thought of her that day as Our Lady of Sorrows.
    It had been two days since she died, but we were out of town and isolated from the media and friends and I couldn’t figure out how to tell my freckle faced little man. I knew he loved her. She had just taken him to Steak N Shake along with Connor, Anth, Mikey and Ty between baseball games. It’s what baseball moms do. She was the teacher who taught them all how to hold their hands when they received Jesus for the first time. It’s what 2nd grade teachers do in Catholic schools everywhere. But, she did them, as all things, with special panache, filled with a twinkle in her eye.
    Dealing with death is a fact of life, it’s true. This is different though. It broke me to think of it, and it crushed my spirit into 1000 pieces having to shatter the innocent childhood of my beautiful boy by telling him.
    “Honey?”
    “What’s going on mom? Why is no one telling me what’s going on?”
    “Sweetheart, it’s Mrs. Hall. She died, Zach.”
    “What do you mean? I just saw her. She was fine.”
    “Zach. She died. I want you to listen to me carefully. Mr. Hall died too.”
    “Mom? How? An accident?”
    “ Mrs. Hall died when Mr. Hall shot her, and then himself. It was not an accident. It’s one of the most terrible things I can imagine, Z. We can’t be sure why something like this ever happens. You know, sometimes people can’t think straight and they are really sick even though they look okay on the outside. I know you want to understand why….but for now none of us know, and we are all sad. I think we should just focus on what we can do. We can pray.”
    “I’m so so sad for Connor and Danny, Mom.”
    “I know, Z. Me too. Me too.”
    “Spread love wherever you go. Let no one ever come to you without leaving happier.” –Mother Teresa
    She died on July 27. It’s been a month.
    I was not her Mom, or her Dad. I was not her sister or her son. I was not her nephew, niece, nor was I her best friend. I saw her frequently, and we were friends. We were “Bring Z over and swim” or “You know I am going to eat all of your sunflower seeds if you keep them there” kind of friends.

    A month feels like 5 minutes. I was expecting her to walk into the lunchroom and tease me with her smile when I was at SLDM last week with my apron on saying, “What? No Diet Coke? I bet you brought a Coke for Jan! I keep telling her that I found you first and she stole you from me.”
    She taught all three of my children and showed up every day with a smile, despite any personal hardship she might be going through on any given day. I saw her with fair clarity, and “I don’t mean to be mean” but Shannon was not perfect nor did she claim to be. Who among us is? It doesn’t change her legacy an ounce.
    What I have learned as I have prayed, watched, listened and reflected in one month is that God called her to live that “Spread love” mantra of Mother Teresa and she did it with style and substance. She was not just smiling; she was giving us all an authentic piece of God when she twinkled those smiling Irish eyes in our direction.
    My heart hurts—especially for those two boys. I pray, and then I pray some more. I try and make deals with God, and sometimes I tell Him that His plan sucks canal water.
    Today, as the one month anniversary of her death is just hours away, I find myself thinking about what Shannon would have done if a terrible tragedy had happened to me, or you, or any one of the thousands in her path?
    I know the answer right away. She would let her light shine every chance she had. She would pray with her class, give excessive numbers of hugs and she would keep on keeping on. She would spread love.
    I’m not yet ready to change my prayer. I have it memorized now.

    Dear Jesus,
    I do trust You, but I don’t get it. I know You love us, but wrapping my head around this is impossible. She is with You now, in arms more loving than I can imagine. Help us to trust in Your plan for all of us. Fill Connor and Danny, Jan, Colleen, Rita and Danny with grace and peace. I ask this in Your most holy name. Amen.

    Tomorrow’s challenge: Let your light shine. Let no one come to you without leaving happier.
    BRING IT, PEOPLE! Who’s with me?

  • 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. 

  • 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.

  • The Naked Saint on the Pizza

    03-st-francis-renounces-all-worldly-goods-1299“Preach the Gospel at all times, and when necessary, use words.”

    ― St. Francis of Assisi

    Earlier this week, I was the mystery reader in my son’s 2nd grade class.  Apparently the clues I sent in about myself made it “waaaay easy” to figure out who I was before I entered the classroom.  You see, “normal moms” send in clues about the type of minivan they drive or how many kids they have, while I chose to share slightly more colorful information about how I dominate my youngest son in wall ball and that I find watching golf on TV torturous.  I’m not sure how I went wrong there, but my little man was a touch irritated.  In any case, the class was expecting me and plenty squirrely when I sauntered in at the end of the day.

    First, I read a funny and silly book called Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good Very Bad Day.  Mostly, I chose that one because it’s sure to get laughs from a class full of 8 year olds.  It did.  Then, I went with something a little different.  It was a book about St. Francis.  Perhaps it would be nice for the kids to hear about the saint after whom our new Pope chose his name?  I mean, I love St. Francis.  The Pope loves St. Francis.  His is just a beautiful story of conversion, leaving behind “things” and choosing God.  Nothing but good can come from learning a little more about St. Francis, right?

    WRONG.

    Let’s review the facts on the great saint from the perspective of an 8 year old.

    “Mrs. Thieme, he was kinda a rich guy with a mean dad, huh?”

    “Mrs. Thieme, Mrs. Thieme!  He was rich before he went crazy and got naked on the pizza.”

    “Well, sweetheart, the word is actually PIAZZA.  It’s not the same…”

    “Mrs. Thieme!!  Can we see the picture of the naked saint?”

    “Yeah, we wanna see the picture of the crazy naked guy!”

    To the parents of 2nd graders in my son’s class at St. Louis de Montfort, I apologize for any conversations you might have had to endure about the scantily clad, mentally unstable saint after whom the former Cardinal Jorge Bergoglio chose to name himself.  I meant well, my heart was rightly motivated, and it just didn’t translate how I intended.  For the record, there WAS a cartoon style illustration in the book which showed the unadorned backside of St. Francis renouncing his worldly possessions at the behest of Bishop Guido, but I skipped over the page 17 picture.  I did so much to the chagrin of all the boys and girls listening.

    Here’s the thing.  St. Francis is a saint worth knowing.  I am a touch friendlier with him than I am with some of his other cohorts there in heaven, because I spent 8 years of my life being taught by the Sisters of St. Francis of Perpetual Adoration (SSFPA) at St. Lawrence Catholic School as a kid.  Those gals made sure we knew all about Francis and his simple life of joy.  I knew for a moment he was considered the biggest fool in Assisi, that some people thought he was mad.  But, I looked at those gals who taught me in class each day, wearing those tragic brown outfits and I noticed their smiles.  Nothing spoke to me as a more powerful witness about the love of God than did those happy Franciscan sisters who had chosen to say yes to Jesus calling them to be His spouse.

    I was just dying to share a little piece of this amazing man with the kiddos.

    Without the ferocity of devotion St. Francis had to God centuries ago, this group of amazing religious women who helped me learn so much about the love of our Awesome Creator wouldn’t even exist.  That’s just one tiny thing among millions that a powerful crazy love for Christ can accomplish.  Francis was on fire with faith and that fire spread like a raging forest fire through hundreds of years all the way to Indiana.  Cool, huh?

    Even just this week, our new Pope preached about this idea of “apostolic zeal”.  Pope Francis said at mass on Thursday this week that Apostolic zeal, implies “an element of madness, but of spiritual madness, of healthy madness” in proclaiming Christ.

    He urged all present to press on with zeal, the kind of zeal clearly evident in that naked guy I tried to introduce to the 2nd graders.

    Said Pope Francis, “There are backseat Christians, right? Those who are well mannered, who do everything well, but are unable to bring people to Jesus through proclamation and Apostolic zeal. Today we can ask the Holy Spirit to give us all this Apostolic fervor and to give us the grace to be annoying when things are too quiet in the Church the grace to go out to the outskirts of life. The Church has so much need of this! Not only in distant lands, in the young churches, among people who do not know Jesus Christ, but here in the cities, in our cities, they need this proclamation of Jesus Christ. So let us ask the Holy Spirit for this grace of Apostolic zeal, let’s be Christians with apostolic zeal. And if we annoy people, blessed be the Lord. Onwards, as the Lord says to Paul, ‘take courage!’ ”

    I like this Pope.  He speaks my language.  Did you read what he said?

    “If we annoy people, blessed be the Lord.”

    In the spirit of being annoying  and not letting it drop already (a particular strength area of yours truly), I’ll give you a few neat facts about Francis I learned so long ago that I never got to share in 2B this week at St. Louis de Montfort School.

    • St. Francis invented the first creche in a mountain cave near Greccio where he celebrated Christmas mass in 1223 and shortly thereafter in 1224 received the stigmata.
    • St. Francis wrote the “Canticle of the Sun” but did not write “The Prayer of St. Francis”.
    • St. Francis was canonized in 1228 by Pope Gregory  IX in Assisi, and his feast day is celebrated Oct. 4.

    P.S.  Is it just me or do we need more religious women back in our Catholic schools ASAP?!  Let’s pray for vocations!

    “All the darkness in the world cannot extinguish the light of a single candle.”

    – St. Francis of Assisi