…and the disciples were continually filled with joy and with the Holy Spirit. (ACTS 13:52)
“Joy is the unmistakable work of the Holy Spirit.” That’s the quote I heard this morning at church spoken by a perky, bright gal named Denise. It really struck me as profound. It’s the soul of happiness. Joyful people are the ones God uses so often to bring others to Himself. How am I doing? Do I have this gift? Am I sharing it as I should? These were my questions and they were a big part of my Lenten prayers this morning. So, I have been contemplating about the most joyful folks I have met in this life, and I am comparing them to the stories of some of my favorite joy-filled saints. Here is my unscientifically created list of Top 10 Qualities of Joyful People! Do you consider yourself a JOYFUL PERSON? How many of these qualities do you have? What have I left out?
1. They don’t take it personally. Joyful people are other focused. They consider circumstances and consider that they may not have all the information. They do not look within themselves insecurely. When things don’t go their way, joyful people do NOT dabble in the form of self-centeredness which takes it personal.
2. They see the bright side. Joyful people tend to do the following when things go wrong, “Well, in good news…” They reflect on lessons learned, solutions which might be employed next time, and they find a way to be content—even in a storm.
3. They don’t judge. They know the only perfect person was Jesus and know “I’m not Him!” They are able to find something positive to say about even the most challenging folks around them. They’ve made their own mistakes, picked themselves up, and are working on their own holiness by shining their light, not wagging their finger.
4. They know there is a time for everything. We can’t always work, nor can we always “have fun”. Joyful people scoop up opportunities to show up for others, they don’t dwell on past mistakes, and take time to enjoy the little things. Sometimes, that means belting out a favorite song or showing up for the little league game. Other times, it means taking time for sacred silence.
5. They are self-aware. Joyful people know what their gifts are, as well as their quirks and shortcomings. They know who they are and what they are capable of. They have the kind of positivity (despite their own flaws and misgivings) that cannot be taken away– because it wasn’t gifted to them by men.
6. They are creative. For many, when joy exists before the “I”, and they are able to live a life standing outside their own egos, a greater sense of creativity is present in them. Joy thinks outside the box. Many joyful people are just plain silly at times! They aren’t afraid to look like a fool. Many times, this will mean they are curious types who ask questions and are truly interested in knowing more about you!
7. They are consistent. Joyful people are not typically regarded as “sometimes joyful”. Others see them that way. Period. It’s sometimes quiet, but ever present. Even in sadness, joyful people still exude flickers of light. It may manifest itself very differently, but it’s always there. It’s a divinely given gift, after all, and is rarely a gift for just a season. Therefore, authentic joy doesn’t need a reason or a season. It’s simply unreasonable happiness which is rooted in deep gratefulness to God.
8. Joyful people are loving. When people describe others they know who are joyful, they always mention love. Don’t believe me? Ask around! The truly happy know joy isn’t a feeling. They are people who have turned themselves toward God. The only response to that is the living of the high adventure and love that is rooted in the divine.
9. They appreciate simple. Joyful people have learned to love the simple things. They find deep peace in knowing their blessedness. Things like campfires, sunny mornings, cool breezes, a long walk, a good giggle bring deep interior consolation. Sure, joyful people might enjoy “the good things in life” just as much as anyone, but they aren’t terribly attached to them.
10. Joyful people love themselves. They know deep within that they are beloved sons and daughters of God.
I am grateful to God especially for St. Teresa of Avila, St. John Vianney…and my sis Robin, Vivian, Lily S., Jake A., Janie M. and Renee (among many others) for their examples of joyfulness that inspire me!
“Do not be afraid, for behold, I proclaim to you good news of great joy that will be for all the people.” (Luke 2:10)
I, Michelle Lynn Dykhuizen Thieme, have decided today to declare my candidacy for President of the United States of America.
You’re pumped, right?
I have a loud voice. Like, really loud. What’s even better is, I only know this fact because everyone around me keeps telling me. So, that means I also have poor self-awareness. I’m (waaaay) over 35 and I have paperwork to prove I was born in Lafayette, Indiana. I have zero political background. Well, that’s not entirely true. I did serve as president of my HS class. It seems to me right there is a great recipe for a presidential run. Who wants to be my campaign manager? Anyone?
To be completely upfront, my candidacy might prove to be a tad tricky.
First of all, I try to always apologize when I’m wrong, and even though I’m loud, which I know the media loves, I really prefer to get along with people and maintain harmony whenever possible. In fact, I like to write notes to people and remind them why they are awesome. That feels like something I will need to fix to be a viable candidate.
Plus, let’s look at the issues. Guns? Nope. Don’t like ’em. I didn’t even like it when my sons tried to make their legos into gun shapes and play cowboys and “native americans” in pre-school. I realize that might seem over the top. So much for the NRA support. Does this make me a democrat? There are family members and friends in my life who make their living farming and some of them like to hunt. They also really don’t like predators (you know, foxes, raccoons, opposums, coyotes) who come after their livestock. OK, I REALLY don’t like guns but you guys can keep your hunting rifles. Ditto for you and your FBI friends, Don, and you too, Gerry and all the other police officers out there who are trying hard to keep us safe. I get it. Some people rightly value their firearms. We’ll just have to respect each others differences on that one and wade through together.
“Respect each other’s differences?” What kind of poppycock is that? Man the media are going to have a field day with me. I’ll need a good PR staff. Who’s in?
What else? Well, I really feel in my heart that a big challenge in our country is a need to strengthen families. I suppose that’s a republican thing to say. The thing is, I respect and love people in my life who have families that look less traditional than mine. Now, I’m sounding lost in a political Bermuda triangle. I know. Clearly, my positions make me insane. Oh, and I think it’s utterly silly to bother those nuns on 86th St. who are super busy changing the sheets of Indy’s poorest seniors with some law about they need to provide contraceptives to the receptionist. Actually, it downright bugs me. I mean, she knew she was taking a job working for nuns, right? I’d bet she’s probably cool with giving Sister a pass on those drugs– if she wasn’t– she probably would have just applied for another gig. The nuns and I are on page and…so my hopes of democratic funding seem to be dwindling.
I love nuns, families, and I care about the poor. I really hate guns, but I get that some people need them. When a girl down the hall at Purdue called me a “fisheater”, I didn’t get bent out of shape. Last week, someone called me fat. Big damn deal. I loathe sexism and racism and most the other “isms” as much as the next guy, but mostly people who don’t like other people because of who they are or what they look like are just idiots to me. I wish I’d written “sad” and said I would pray for them. I’m working on it. Focusing on people who fail isn’t the centerpiece of my life. The pervasive over-sensitivity and uber concern about political correctness revolution just isn’t working for me. These moments always remind me how blessed I am to have a mom who constantly reminded me that I will never be sorry I was too kind. I should also mention my eloquent Dad who didn’t have a problem reminding me from time to time when I lost my way that “your shit, Shelly does in fact stink.” Thanks for keeping me straight, guys.
The scripture verse at the beginning of this declaration of candidacy came from the Christmas card I sent out this year. That’s a pattern of behavior for me. I’m kind of into Jesus. In fact, I believe the fact checkers will uncover that I am a mass attending, sacrament loving Catholic. If that’s not a candidacy killer, I don’t know what is.
So there you have it. I might be the most un-electable possible candidate in this year’s election. I’m a definitively pro-compromise, family (and nun) loving, anti-gun, police appreciating fish eater. I love our underpaid teachers and think high-stakes standardized testing is killing education, and I’m willing to listen to why you might feel differently. I believe in doing all we can to help the poor up. I don’t think it’s a close call when it comes to crazy things like the taking of lives or the selling of baby parts, but hating others despite our differences isn’t a thing I believe in either.
I’m never going to be President. Frankly, neither are any of you. And that, my friends, is what’s wrong with America. Let’s just set aside my obvious obstacles, such as I am not a millionaire and I have been a stay-at-home mom for 10 years. My bet is, even if you can actually fit neatly into one of the 2 political parties calling the shots, when you unravel your belief system you will find you are really going to have some issues which inhibit your electability. Mainly it’s about you just aren’t cranky enough.
In my opinion, what has made America great over the years is her capacity for compassion, for building one another up. We’ve lost our way. The venomous tone at present is surely NOT OF GOD.
Today, I felt called to speak up for the end to the rancor.
Do you want to know why I love the nuns? They keep me honest. The $40 they had to come to my parish begging to get from me seems like a lot as I toss it in the basketm but when I head out to shop, it seems like nothing. I am definitely part of the problem. However, I continue to pray and to try and do better. I hope the same for my nation.
God gave us free will, it’s true. When we are free to act without being under the influence of another, that is real freedom. Consider the words of a great saint in whom even the vast number of non-Christians in India saw great virtue. Reading her words always makes me feel as if I have inhaled a tiny breath of heaven. As I finish my silly little entry today, I invite you to join me in a prayer for our great country and I offer you this bit of fresh air. I hope you enjoy it. Know that above all you belong to God, He delights in you, and you are loved.
“Spread love everywhere you go. Let no one ever come to you without leaving happier.” –Mother Teresa
Tongue firmly planted in cheek, my handsome husband texted me from his conference in Las Vegas this week. Tom: Our keynote is trying to tell me that it’s not all about me. She’s full of it. Me: Someone should have informed her. Tom: She also wants me to be positive and find the good in people. She doesn’t get me. Me: Lmao! She is unqualified to give a keynote to accountants. Someone should have vetted her. Heads will roll. Tom: Now she wants me to lighten up. Come on woman.
Now, part of what makes our marriage work is that I have a self-imposed rule that I don’t write about Tom. However, I am making an exception today to illustrate two things. First, I’m not really all that good at following rules. Second, he is a truly funny guy who makes me laugh aloud now and then. Laughing leads to smiling and I happen to believe whole-hardheartedly in smiling.
The most authentic voice that has ever spoken about the importance of smiling, in my mind, is Mother Teresa. She said this, (and so much more) about the matter.
“Spread love everywhere you go. Let no one ever come to you without leaving happier.”
Well, what if we’re not actually happy? What if we have an “Eeyore” temperament or our personal circumstances are a mess? Isn’t it a little deceptive to fake it?
I have one friend who is from a large, wealthy family who was taught at a young age that she must appear cheerful. She and her siblings felt they were shaming their parents if they didn’t appear to be happy. This kind of “pressure” to smile does feel inauthentic, don’t you think?
On the other hand, several years ago I received a letter from an awkward, even geeky, former classmate. The note came decades after we had been in school together. “You were the reason I made it through school. I knew every afternoon when I got to English class you would be there smiling at me and saying hello. Except for you, the experience was pure misery.” I didn’t see this coming at all. The thing is, though, I remember making a choice to be kind to this kid. It was my mom. She endlessly told us that we would never be sorry we were too nice. Spot on, Mom. Thanks.
I share these two stories to make a point. These are two very different types of smiles. In the first example, my friend spent her growing up years “faking” joy. It was feigned and deceptive. The purpose? It was done to make people think favorably about oneself, and it’s difficult to pull this off successfully. Why? Because human beings can feel it when you are “all about me.”
Perhaps unbeknownst to Mom, she was channeling Mother Teresa’s approach to joy with her ever present instruction. YOU WILL NEVER BE SORRY YOU WERE TOO NICE. Mom taught us the outward looking smile. The smile which is aimed at another for his or her benefit is silent and powerful acknowledgment that you see the presence of Christ in that person.
“Spread love everywhere you go….”
Love is a decision. When we love, we are making a decision to look outward. It’s not about impressing someone or looking the part. Have you ever considered how you might answer if God someday asks, “How did you love me?”
Here’s three minutes worth seeing that speaks about this truth of our job to love and be a witness to love in a very accessible and relatable way. The priest who is featured is known only to me as “Fr. Rob.” He publishes at Petersboat.net. This particular video speaks about the red cups at Starbucks that have been on every media outlet ad nauseum the last few days. I think you’ll enjoy it, so I’ve put a link at the end of this post.
What’s my point in all of this?
Even if I’m not feeling it, even if I’m not in the mood, even if you’re like the sarcastic comedian I’m married to and you claim it’s not part of your natural temperament– I do think we should go out of our way (even if we have to force it) to see the good in others, to perform little kindnesses, and to smile at others in our daily path.
Did you know Mother Teresa felt a profound darkness of soul for the last many years of her life? She was experiencing tremendous interior misery for many years. It was a shocking revelation only revealed after her death. It was mind blowing to many, because the world saw intense joy in her eyes, and deep peace in all that she revealed to others.
She smiled for love of God, so that’s the message we received from her. LOVE.
It’s not about you.
My son texted me after his last final of the trimester this week. His needs and desires were immediately clear to me after the better part of 2 decades of being his mama. I’m curious what you think of our interaction.
Kid: Mom I am so mad. Guidance has changed my whole schedule for the rest of the year.
Oh Lord, let my heart be kind.
Me: I trust this injustice largely centers around the fact that your friends are no longer in your classes as opposed to you are not going to meet graduation requirements?
Kid: I’m really mad Mom.
Me: Well then, great day! You have been blessed with the opportunity to offer up this horrible alienation from your friends for the good of some deserving person or cause. I mean, maybe you are the one who is gonna convince God to infuse my sorry rear with grace to stay ON the diet? Or maybe your sacrifice will help your brother’s pelvic bone heal more quickly or heck…maybe there will be some soul in heaven who was previously in purgatory cuz of you! #Blessed #Awesome
Kid: Well thanks for the insight mom. #Not Funny
I can’t shoot a basketball, and I’m miserable at any math above junior high level. The “house” part of housewife gives me fits. It’s true, I’ve been tried and convicted, with cause, of having the attention span of a squirrel. Parenting with the backdrop of my sarcastic temperament, however, does sometimes entertain me. It’s one thing I really do like about being me. Now that we communicate a lot via technology, I admit celebrating my very fast thumbs with excessive giggling on a fairly regular basis. What I’m trying to say is that I crack myself up.
This exchange made me laugh….BUT it also gave me pause. I pray that I don’t use my “gifts” for evil. This tiny episode happened very near another one which also veered near the “sense of entitlement” end of the teenager spectrum.
So, did I nip it in the bud with humor and love….or am I a snarky mom who lacks compassion? I wonder who among you would disagree with my tactics? Would you have called the guidance counselor? Other parents, what say you?
Oh, Lord, let my heart be kind and my children respectful.
It was barely past 7am on a recent Tuesday morning when my phone began to blow up.
First came a photo of Cole and Clay from my dear friend, Ann. The caption read, “Grab the Kleenex…it’s going to be the year of Lasts! The last day our boys will go to school together! Send pics.”
Then, the adorable Chris sent her shot of Rhett and Rhye. Her senior looked half asleep, but still handsome. Her caption read, “Uuuugh.”
Shortly thereafter, more buzzing commenced from Lisa.
“First day of 1st grade, and first day of senior year.”
That was followed up by an adorable side by side of her son, Christian, that would just melt your heart.
A few moments later, “Kleenex needed all day” arrived with a smiling photo of Dominic with his big brother Vinny, from my friend Julie.
I quickly gave into peer pressure and then the morning’s “Last first day” shot of my two oldest. I wrote, “Let’s just enjoy them all year.”
Drew and Nick on the “Last first day”
Look at me trying to be sunny! It didn’t last. Within two hours I had texted my mom, “Can you just sprinkle a little Prozac in my all my beverages this year?”
I felt a bit like a mom cliche. I know, it’s silly, and I realize how much God has blessed our family. Still, there was this wave of sadness, of thinking so wistfully about the last year with Nick under our roof. God’s grace is sufficient, I thought. I followed it with, “whatever.” Then, I found this golden nugget.
Those to whom God gives riches and property, and grants powers to partake of them, so that they receive their lot and find joy in the fruits of their toil: This is a gift from God. For they will hardly dwell on the shortness of life, because God lets them busy themselves with the joy of their heart. Ecc. 5:18-20.
A couple of weeks ago, a friend of mine lost his dad in a tragic accidental drowning. It appears to all that Mr. Doerr was cleaning the pool when he apparently got tangled in the vacuum hose, hit his head and fell into the pool. I lost my breath a bit when I read the note I received which laid bare the details, and I imagined the deep grief of the family.
What Fr. Richard reported the day of his father’s funeral was this, which I read on my phone in a bit of disbelief. He wrote, “It was an absolutely beautiful thing.” There was no “but”.
His simple words spoke powerfully about his strong faith and grateful heart. It convicted me instantly, but I didn’t quite understand why just yet.
There’s more.
A year ago, I lost my friend, Shannon, in horrific fashion. In the midst of their terrible grief, her sister, Colleen, and husband, Doug Stine, adopted the two sons she left behind. They are being raised alongside the little Stines, Ryan and Maddie…and a brand new baby girl born just days ago. They named her Shannon Lynn.
I sent my grieving friend, Fr. Richard, this photograph. It was the moment when Colleen introduced her parents and her older sister, Janet LYNN, to their newest family member. When I saw it for the first time, I sobbed.
I explained to him that it was one of the most poignant photos I have ever seen and that it was of the O’Malias. Mom, Dad, and their two daughters– in the delivery room– meeting Shannon Lynn, who is named after BOTH of her aunts. I told him it was so stunningly beautiful that I can’t stand it, and that it was, to me, a powerful example of God’s grace just reigning down on them.
They say a picture is worth a thousand words. So I won’t write about it anymore. Here it is.
Welcome to the world, Shannon Lynn Stine
To that, the reply I received from the good padre was a link to the homily given by Fr. Rasner at his dad’s funeral. I thought that was a bit of an odd thing to send but given that I was out of town on vacation during the funeral and regretted missing the event, I was glad to get the chance to hear it.
To say that it was powerful and comforting would do it a massive disservice. It was perhaps the most beautiful and inspired funeral homily I have ever heard. The Doerr family is a large and faith filled group which has produced two priests. The younger Fr. Doerr shared this with me because he recognized in that homily what I felt when I saw that photo.
God’s grace reigns down on us. It happens all the time in small and powerful ways. It’s our choice to see it. We have to cooperate with grace, you see. When we do, the only appropriate response is gratefulness. The Doerrs and the O’Malias have provided me (and many, others) inspiring witnesses of faith and gratefulness amid terrific difficulties. They have given me pause.
Why, oh, why is gratefulness NOT my default position at this point? I really MUST be the most stubborn, slow learner of all times.
Let’s circle back to my pitiful morning of angst at the realization that this is Nick’s SENIOR year. It’s the year of lasts. Sniff, sniff. Perhaps the storm clouds and film noire attitude is not the way to go? A little melodramatic– you think??
This is just one small example and one tiny situation. However, it’s definitely emblematic of an overall spiritual shortcoming. It was the O’Malias and the Doerrs that inspired me to visit Jesus. I prayed, “I don’t know what I need, Jesus, but You do. Please help me.”
As I prayed, I got thinking about the proper way to handle this year (and my life, and my failings), and then I kept thinking of this crazy, over the top guy we met this year on the baseball field. “Why am I in the chapel thinking about Skiles Test baseball,” I thought. “Girl, focus on what you’re doing,” I scolded myself interiorly.
I couldn’t. That’s when I realized God was talking. Duh. When people get “stuck” in my brain, I tend to spiritualize the experience. In other words, I believe the Holy Spirit is behind it and has placed them there for a reason.
What can I say? Some holier people probably hear angelic choirs when they pray, or at least think of cool biblical guys. I tend to go another way.
Stick with me, and allow me to digress….
“They may forget what you said, but they will never forget how you made them feel” — Carl Buehner
Coach Bazan is a lunatic. No, really, he is. So is his wife, Coach “Ball.” Her name is actually Crystal, but everyone calls her Ball. Really. She brings bags full of gum and miscellaneous candy to every practice and baseball game. Sure, it’s just little league baseball, but still…and she video tapes every game. Why? So she can send video clips to parents of their kid’s great hit, or awesome catch and enjoy it or send it to a grandparent who lives afar. Coach Ball only sends highlights.
“We gotta call him ‘All American Thieme’ momma, because that is what he’s gonna be someday! I was so excited when we got him on OUR team this year because I am sick of playing against him! He hit 7 for 7 against us last year!”
Those were the first words spoken to me this spring by Coach Bazan about my 10 year old son, Zach. All I could think was, “Good God!” Who knows the stats of players from the opposing teams? From last year? I don’t think I am ready for this guy. And do you know what? I WASN’T!
Before we knew it they all had nicknames. There was “Lights Out Ferrucci” and “Hitman Haas.” He named “Gotcha Goff”, “Max the Rock Johnson”, “Mr. Excitement”, “Tough as Nails Bartlett” and “Lightning Baltz”. We will never forget “Irish Padgett” or “Hammer Hardister.” It was kind of hilarious how the boys beamed when he called them by their awesome nicknames……….which was constantly!
I have to be honest. I don’t know much else about this family but for sure I know one thing. They taught me a very important lesson. That lesson?
SOAK IT UP.
Life is an amazing gift. Live it—in positivity, with gratitude! My heart is so often overflowing from amazing blessings. When God reigns down on us, He intends for us to SOAK IT UP, and then… drip sparkly little bits of joy all around us. I do feel a tremendous amount of joyfulness. It’s time for me to take a cue from the terrific Bazan family and shake that sponge a little harder.
There is a time for nostalgia, for pining over how fast the time has gone, and if all goes as it should, there will be an entire box of Kleenex utilized when I drop my oldest son off at college next fall. But, I don’t need to make it the longest, most painful separation song in history. Brooding is a colossal waste of time—whatever the crisis of the moment.
Now is the time for gratefulness and generosity of spirit. Now is the time to honor God and the amazing family, friend and community He has given me with my joyfulness!
Those to whom God gives riches and property, and grants powers to partake of them, so that they receive their lot and find joy in the fruits of their toil: This is a gift from God. For they will hardly dwell on the shortness of life, because God lets them busy themselves with the joy of their heart. Ecc. 5:18-20.
God deals out joy in the present, the now. He also reigns down His love on us through others.
For me, He has most recently spoken through the beautful witnesses of the O’Malias, the Doerrs and the Bazans, To them, and to God, I am grateful. Candles have been lit and prayers said for these families with a full and thankful heart.
Has anyone loved you up in a meaningful way lately by their example of faith or their kindness?
“Freedom consists not in doing what we like, but in having the right to do what we ought.” –Pope St. John Paul II
There’s a lot of laundry at my house. Our place on Randolph Crescent Drive is home to two sweaty teenage boys, a 10 year old who avoids bathing, plus Tom and myself. Yours truly handles the washing and folding. I’m positively adequate at the task. In my defense, imagine trying to memorize the correct home for scores of t-shirts and athletic shorts. I have three “men” who essentially wear the same size. Black Nike t-shirt with a white “swoosh”? Go fish!
“Tax Season” Tom came home the other night wearing a very snug fitting work out worn t-shirt. He looked at me in disdain and said, “Do I look like a size Medium to you?” I assured him that he looked H-O-T, but he was bugged. Sometimes, well intentioned people make mistakes. Oops. What he grabbed from the top of the pile in his dresser obviously was misfiled.
Last night he texted, “Happiness is….a size XL t-shirt.” I replied, “Well sometimes it takes a size medium day to realize the fabulousness you take for granted?”
Hubby had a classic response, “That’s one way to think of it. You’re so glass half full in a glass half empty world.”
I tell this mundane little talk to illustrate that I do tend to try and see the upside in life. Effort is occasionally required to uncover truth and discover positive intentions most people have, most of the time. In “Shellyville”, this is not at all regarded as “wishful thinking”, but is grounded in reality.
This brings me to the hot topic of the week here in Hoosier land, the “Religious Freedom Restoration Act.”
Have you checked a news outlet– any news outlet– in the last couple days? Whew, as a state, we are taking a beating.
Let me begin by saying I believe in treating all people with compassion and kindness. The vast majority of my fellow Hoosiers feel the same. I’ve spent the last 43 years getting to know a lot of them. Trust me. Good peeps. I am Catholic, and I love Jesus. Convincing me that Jesus would EVER condone hate-mongering of any type is an unequivocal no-go. Without delving too much into some of my favorite works of literature to back up my thoughts, I will just defend myself by saying His friends and disciples included murderers, adulterers, women, and lepers. He was born a Jew, 2000 years ago in the Middle East. I’m no historian, but my guess is he was a person of color. Does that matter? Hell to the NO! I’m just using my personal Jesus vision to illustrate why it makes ZERO SENSE Jesus would condone any modern day pizzeria, retail shop, etc from discriminating against ANYONE based on race, gender, sexual orientation or any other reason one can conceive.
Indiana: Did we just pass a bill that allows “cover” for those folks? Did we make discrimination fair game?
I argue that at this point– IT DOESN’T MATTER. Even if RFRA is truly rooted in compassion– we need to DROP Senate Bill 101.
Why? Because regardless of what the bill was intended to do, its existence has no quantifiable upside.
Lest my conservative friends think I have crossed over to “the dark side”, I will add that I understand this bill does not even apply to disputes between private parties. It applies to the government or state actions– and I believe it was intended to give existing Federal law local teeth. What I’m attempting to say is that I believe it’s authors were certainly not motivated by desire to legalize discrimination. It was intended to prevent burdening a person’s ability to exercise their religion. 20 states have like legislation. I’m told by a few legal beagles I know that it’s the “local version” of President Clinton’s 1993 Federal RFRA.
Further, there’s no doubt the government struck fear in the hearts of faith filled people here in Indiana when they deemed folks like the Little Sisters of the Poor outside their definition of what is a legitimate religious organization and ordered them to pay for abortificants. I am among that group. That, to this Jesus girl, feels like very objectionable behavior.
Where did we go all wrong? I think it’s super simple.
We’ve forgotten that most important sense– you know, the 6th sense– COMMON SENSE!
We need to trust in the goodness of the majority of Americans. Let the free market work! In 2015, a restauranteur or jewelry shop owner who refuses service to a certain segment of the population will surely wither and die. I promise you I will not be back to buy my next car from the dealer who insisted on talking to my husband before letting me test drive one of their vehicles, for instance. In fact, it’s tempting to publish their name here so you don’t either. Instead, just ask me when you see me next, ok?
And what about those Little Sisters? Well, I would argue that if you have any common sense, you would know when you decide to go to work for the Little Sisters of the Poor, you should know 2 things before you arrive. First, you aren’t going to get rich working for them (ummm….they have the word POOR right in their name after all). Second, they’re Catholic. So, probably if you make your free will decision to have an abortion (and I sincerely pray you don’t) they aren’t going to spot you the money to pay for it. You’ll be on your own dime there.
Let’s use our heads, people.
Optimism, compassion, and hospitality. Indiana is full of all three… and we’re still open for business! No ill conceived piece of paper signed by a government official at any level can change that!
Sometimes, it takes an ill fitting size medium shirt in your gym bag to help you remember the XL (you had been wearing all this time) was the better fit after all. Just sayin.
Dishearten. –verb. To depress the hope, courage or spirits of; discourage
That doesn’t seem like a spectacularly positive choice of words with which to begin, does it? It’s the sunniest selection appropriate to describe how I felt recently upon hearing about the behavior of a large group of teenagers recently engaged in a “brawl” at a shopping mall I used to frequent. Yes, I said “used to”.
As a mother of three sons, ages 10-17, I suppose I feel uniquely qualified to outright reject both the “solutions” and hopelessness offered by local parents and pastors which were shared by Indianapolis area media regarding the handling of teenagers.
To punctuate the sentiment of surrender and discouragement felt by all, one mother was quoted saying to her child, “Y’alls generation is terrible”.
Another group, comprised of pastors from local churches, suggested that the solution lies in helping the young people find something to do—because there just aren’t good choices readily available.
These were themes I continued to hear over the course of days. Well meaning as those people might be, I listened and thought, “What planet are these people living on? We all need to look in the mirror, folks!”
Do you want to know what my teenage sons do on weeknights? They do their homework. If there’s time left over before bedtime, they might catch a game on ESPN, or watch an episode of “The Voice” with their mama, or they might play basketball on the tiny plastic hoop in my 10 year old’s room. He usually has a full NCAA tourney scribbled on a piece of paper. Last night Zach was Michigan and his brother was Butler. I have no idea who made it into the round of 32, I just know that the older boys are forced to play on their knees to make it “fair” and that it sounds like the house is coming down when they play.
On the weekends, when they don’t have practices or games themselves, they go support the high school team. Like many schools, at our place, admission is free to students. Away games, the kids have to come up with $5 or so and they can usually be entertained by two games for that price during hoops season………..hollering for their Golden Eagles for about 3 hours or so. After the games, sometimes they come here and I throw in frozen pizzas for them and a few buddies. Occasionally, they hit BW3 for wings. I know who they are with, and if they have post-game plans at a friend’s house, I check in with the parents to make sure they are home. Often, I get text messages from these parents letting me know that my son is now on his way home, or that he ate a whole bag of Oreos, or that he’s really horrible at Guitar Hero.
On Sunday, you’ll find them in the 3rd row on the left at mass.
Our faith community has expectations and kids rise to the occasion. It’s amazing when you set a bar for them, they often surprise and hurdle right over it. For instance, the kiddos are asked to do service work at their churches and in the community. There are specific requirements we give the kids, depending on their ages of course. Younger kids (like say 5th graders) might be asked to do 5 hours of service work. High schoolers need many more. They are amazing and creative and their work inevitably reveals to them something about themselves and about their Awesome Creator. The boys and their buddies have raked leaves for the elderly with their school friends, they’ve spread mulch at church, they’ve served meals to the homeless, they’ve stocked food at the food pantry, fit shoes on needy kids, written letters to soldiers, played bingo at nursing homes, worked in the concession stand for CYO games, instructed younger kids at sports camps, dusted and cleaned pews, and on and on over the years.
One particular day after playing bingo with some seniors at a nursing home filled with folks of very limited means, my youngest son (who was 8 at the time) said, “I think that one old lady really liked me mom. She said I made her day. Jesus is happy with me I think.”
My oldest son told the tale of raking leaves in Noblesville for a woman who then arrived home one fall day to find her work had been done for her. She was in tears explaining how her husband had been in the hospital after suffering a heart attack and how much the gesture meant to her. Clearly, the kiddos in his group felt they had been Christ to this woman…..and that felt pretty terrific.
Another day, one of the boys made a point to show me a photo of he and his buddies on twitter. The picture had been posted by his baseball coach while the team was cleaning the kitchen at a downtown food kitchen. He was proud of himself and wanted to show his mom about his morning!
THEY NEED SOMETHING TO DO? THEIR GENERATION IS TERRIBLE?
I profoundly reject those ideas.
Admittedly, when my middle son asked for a rosary for Christmas I did wonder to myself who he thought he was kidding. A priest friend agreed and jokingly suggested I check the police blotter. My point is, no child is perfect, and they are all going to make mistakes….including my own. I share about our life because in all humility I think something is going right, not because the boys I live with are without flaws and not because they have perfect parents. FAR from it.
BUT. Consider the following.
Professor Clay Christensen of Harvard Business School shared a story via social media that I intercepted a month or so ago. It was about a Marxist economist from China coming to the end of a Fulbright Fellowship in Boston. Christensen asked him if he learned anything surprising or unexpected and without hesitation he said, “I had no idea how critical religion is to the function of democracy.” The Fulbright Scholar went on to explain the reason democracy works isn’t because the government was designed to oversee what everybody does, but rather democracy works because most people, most of the time voluntarily choose to obey the law.
Christensen then goes on to share how this Chinese scholar noted that in America’s past, most people attended a church or synagogue every week and were taught there by people they respected. He went on to say Americans followed these rules because they had come to believe that they weren’t just accountable to society but they were accountable to God.
Professor Christensen then opines about wondering as religion loses its influence over the lives of Americans, what will happen to our democracy? If you take away religion, you can’t have enough police.
Here’s the link to a clip of Christensen’s short messgage: https://www.youtube.com/embed/YjntXYDPw44
That leads me right back to the brawl at Castleton Mall and the hundreds of young people who seemed to be lost that day, and the thousands more just like them who desperately need Christ.
All you who love Jesus or who want to love Him more, join me in prayer for our young people, our nation, ourselves. “O, Lord Jesus Christ, open the eyes of my hear that I may hear your word, and understand and do your will, for I am a sojourner upon the Earth. Hide not your commandments from me, but open my eyes, that I may perceive the wonders of your Law. Speak unto me the hidden and secret things of your wisdom. On you do I set my hope, O my God, that you shall enlighten my mind and understanding with the light or your knowledge; not only to cherish those things which are written but to do them; That in reading the lives and sayings of the saints I may not sin, but that such may serve for my restoration, enlightenment and sanctification, for the salvation of my soul, and the inheritance of life everlasting. For you are the enlightenment of those who lie in darkness, and from you comes every good deed and every gift. Amen.”
(Prayer by St. John Chrysendom)
We’ve got to do better. With Jesus, we can.
Let them look up, and see no longer me but only Jesus.
Stay with me.
And then I will begin to shine as You shine,
So to shine as to be a light for others.
The light, O Jesus, will be all from You.
None of it will be mine.
It will be You, shining on others through me.
Let me thus praise You
In the way in which You love best:
By shining on those around me.
Let me preach You without preaching,
Not by words but by example,
By the catching force,
The sympathetic influence of what I do,
The evident fullness of the love
My heart bears for You. Amen
A few weeks before she died, Grandma Jane did something my son Drew remembers as one of his favorite things. She made him his favorite thing– a pumpkin pie– for his birthday. It wasn’t a years long tradition, but a one-time gesture of love delivered to our house on his 14th birthday. As only seemed fitting, we covered it entirely with whipped cream and served it to D instead of cake. He described it that night as “perfection!”
Twenty-four short days later, she would be gone.
It’s exactly a year later now. My tall, lanky, middle kiddo is celebrating his 15th birthday. After 9am mass this morning, his effervescent, joy filled cousin Katie whispered to me, “Don’t leave after mass, Aunt Shelly. We have something for Drew.”
To my immense pleasure, Katie, who is 12, has taken to sitting with us at mass while her parents sing in the choir. I suppose, as a mother of 3 smelly boys, I cannot resist the sparkly headbands and bright pink sweaters– even if for only an hour! She’s a ray of sunshine in my week, holding my hand during the Our Father and giving me a bug hug during the sign of peace. She is girly to her core.
This day, Katie did something else incredibly meaningful. She brought Drew the PERFECT birthday present.
Any guesses?
Drew, left, with his little brother, Zach, holding the “goods”!
Yep, homemade pumpkin pie!! The happy Grandma Jane memory that sparkles for Drew is a tradition Katie decided to carry on. I for one happen to think that act by my favorite 6th grader is a great big piece of LOVE!
My favorite saint is St. Therese, the Little Flower. I have been praying for their help of late that I can always believe, as she did, in God’s great love for me, so that I might imitate her “little way” in my life– radiating Christ. Small acts, big love. That’s the idea. We don’t have to be someone popular, or rich, or important to be Christ to someone else.
Thanks for reminding me, Kate, that it can be as simple as baking a pumpkin pie.
Nicely done, sweetheart…..and props to our Awesome God for using such gorgeous bundle of sparkly love to show us Your face today!
St. Therese of the Child Jesus, Pray for us!
(Radiating Christ, by the way, is a prayer which was written by John Henry Cardinal Newman, and was a favorite of another pretty awesome chick who knew just how to do small things with great love..........Mother Teresa.)
“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.
Here’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!
Large flag hangs from the bell tower of the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception in Wash DC today. (photo cred: Catholic News Service)
“I just rode up those elevators to the top with Mom to celebrate her 50th birthday,” I said to a roomful of no one listening. They were all glued to the TV, like me, aghast. We were suddenly and radically changed individually and as a nation that day 13 years ago.
“I’m leaving to pick up my boys, and I am going to spend the rest of the day hugging them,” I declared to no one in particular. Then, I got up and left the office. No one objected. My room full of office mates were stunned and frozen in place, barely glancing up.
They are 3 and 1, I thought, driving back to the daycare center. Into what kind of world have I brought them…?
Where were YOU that morning? Every American over the age of about 20 can answer this.
Today is a day to memorialize, remember, and above all PRAY.
At Guerin Catholic High School today where my older boys attend school, an all school mass was held. Fr. Joshua Janko paid tribute to those lost on Sept. 11, 2001 and he challenged us to listen to the words of the Gospel. He powerfully acknowledged how difficult the words of Jesus seem to be on this day.
“Jesus said to his disciples: To you who hear I say, love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you…” (Lk 6:27-28)
How can we possibly love those who desire to harm us? I’ve got to be honest, it’s 13 years later and I’m not sure. I do know everything is possible with God. Our prayer releases the power within us to be the hands and face of Christ, to do good, if you will, in the face of evil. It’s not about them, it’s about you and me and our God– who IS love itself.
God loves without limits. He is all good. I’m honestly not sure how to rectify this when in the presence of that which is truly evil. So, the Lord calls me to trust. Good gracious that can be hard some days.
“Come unto me all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” (Mt. 11:28)
I give THANKS today for:
Police Officers and Fire Fighters, whose daily sacrifices I didn’t even begin to notice prior to 9/11/01. You are heroes where you live, and I am proud of you and grateful for your service.
Our US Armed Forces, to each soldier past and present, I thank you for what you have done to protect the collective freedoms of all of us who call the United States of America our own.
My faith, the most beautiful gift from God, and without which I would be lost. Thank you, Lord, for the grace of strong faith!
Today, I admit I am struggling with the challenge offered by Jesus and echoed by Fr. Janko. I don’t want to pray for terrorists.
…and the disciples were continually filled with joy and with the Holy Spirit. (ACTS 13:52)
He Never Misses 