He Never Misses

Shelly Thieme:

Always Editing

  • 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)

  • Rio, Kerri’s Twin, and stuff….

    ChristtheRedeemer

    That Kerri Walsh Jennings sure looks good in her volleyball bikini after having three kids.  She said she was born to have kids and play volleyball.  I feel like we’re twins or something except she had three easy pregnancies and I don’t play volleyball and the whole body thing.  Just sayin.

    The Olympics is underway.  Since I live in a sports crazed house filled to the brim with testosterone, it may not shock you to know that we have been watching everything from fencing and rowing to women’s gymnastics and yes, as I mentioned in my opening paragraph, beach volleyball.

    Generally speaking, I don’t tend to love what the media has become in the last several years.  There are practical limitations at times to media neutrality, but pervasive bias which contravenes the standards of journalism as well as coverage filled with divisive vitriol has become widespread to the point where it makes television virtually unwatchable for me—well except for Chip and Jo Jo.  Those two I love.

    For a few precious days, though, my TV woes are pushed aside as we all get to be on one team!  U-S-A! U-S-A!!

    Last night, I saw two super cool things in between the commercials I am trying desperately to ignore so they don’t ruin the Olympic experience for me.

    First, I saw a young swimmer from Indiana screaming with delight at the end of his swim.  You could NOT hear the NBC commentators over the joyful outburst.  What made it awesome to me was that this kid, Cody, was the bronze medalist in his event.  In the lane next to Cody stood an excited Brit with his arms in the air—and HE had set a world record and won the gold.  That didn’t matter to Cody Miller.  He had done his personal best and he was PUMPED about coming in 3rd and seemed genuinely thrilled for the man who had bested him, giving him a huge hug of congratulations.  THAT is TV worth seeing and it was a powerful witness of what sport and life should be about—HAPPY for the other guy, GRATEFUL for your own blessings!

    My other Olympic smile comes courtesy of the beautiful skyline of Rio de Janeiro.  There, on display for the world at a time when we all desperately NEED JESUS is Christ the Redeemer.  Standing with arms wide open on Corcovado Mountain, this masterpiece which cannot be missed by even the most secular of media outlets, is 125ft high, I heard on the Today Show.  I love that Hoda and Matt told me about it.  An article on the Olympics that I read said the statue was made with the purpose of showing that Christ loves all and to spread peace to all who see it.  The stone is from Sweden, the design is Polish, and it was engineered by both French and Brazilian men.  God Bless Brazil and all who made it possible!

    The Olympics is a personal favorite, as I am sure you guessed by reading the opening paragraph of my post.  It is part of a text string shared between myself, my sister and my hilarious mom this week.  I read an Irish proverb once that said, “A good laugh and a long sleep are the two best cures for anything” and it seems to me remarkable wisdom.  The world is just so darn serious lately and there’s so little smiling!  Are we forgetting to notice the good stuff?  Could we all just use a giggle and a breath of fresh air?  I think YES!  Let’s work on our smiles and spread them around?

    Signs attract attention, and the more luminous, the more they stand out and the greater the impact.  The lighthouse at the end of the pier in South Haven, or even a traffic light is powerful because of its difference.  They couldn’t do their job if they didn’t stand out from the things around them.

    Our smiles?  They are signs too!

    Everytime you smile at someone, it is an action of love, a gift to that person, a beautiful thing. –Mother Teresa.

    If I am not different in some way, or if I am afraid to be what I am called to be, I will also go unnoticed.  Cody was a witness because he did the unexpected.  The people of Rio and their message of love and peace—powerful!!

    I think Jesus wants us to be signs too, in our lives, as little as our lives or moments may be—a tension relieving giggle can definitely be darn good Jesus girl stuff.  A van full of teenagers singing “Yes, Lord” at migraine inducing volume in a minivan is for darn sure a valuable contribution to the world.  So is leading a simple prayer before a meal.  When I maintain courageous hope and strong faith, then I am an authentic Christian.  That brand of holiness, born of desire and effort to grow closer to Christ, is what makes my ordinary valuable.

    As my fellow parents of 2016 grads and I send our oldest kids off to college, I felt a strong tug to issue a reminder of what we have been doing with these last 18 years of smelly blessings.  We’re sending new lights out into the world, friends.  Keep on keeping on because your job isn’t done yet.

    How much fun is it going to be to see the glow spreading across the country, though?

    Oh, and Mom? You’re SO right about Kerri.  Twins.  TOTALLY.  GO USA!!

     

     

     

     

     

  • 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!

  • Dear Mom

    MomInParis1

    This is a sketchy photo of my mom.  She’s spending Mother’s Day in France this year and I could not be happier for her.  My adventurous, amazing Mom deserves this fun trip with her girlfriends and I know she is soaking it all in.  But, it’s Mother’s Day weekend, and since she’s far away, I knew the best way to reach her would be Facebook this year.  This letter is a Mother’s Day gift from me to you, Mom.  I love you.

    Dear Mom,

    The other “kids” are still jealous I have the youngest, coolest mom.  It’s true.  You always were.  I mean, aside from that time you FORGOT you were the mom and you screamed wanting ME to kill the mouse in our kitchen (“YOU DO IT! YOU’RE THE MOM!  I’M ONLY 12!”), it always worked out pretty well for me.  I could use all kinds of adjectives like “hilarious”, “kind”, “creative”, “selfless”….and those are all accurate and true but they just don’t do you justice.  The thing about you that is truly mind-blowing to me as I gaze back over the decades is this one simple thing.  You ALWAYS show up.  ALWAYS.  You might be exhausted, your schedule might be frenetic….it has never mattered.  There you were and are.  Birthdays.  Softball games.  Tennis matches.  Choir performances.  You were at every May Crowning—you weren’t even Catholic then and didn’t understand—but we were there so there you were.  This selflessness only increased once Robin and I headed off to college and then down the aisle.  You organized my closet when I was too pregnant to breathe and stayed overnight in the hospital with my 4 year old when I had food poisoning and couldn’t bear to have him alone for a moment.  You’ve watched my kids for days on end so I could try and remember what it was I liked about that guy I married after 4 months of tax season…………..too many times to count.  The thing is, I don’t believe they miss me at all because the entire time you just spoil my goofballs until they’re sufficiently ruined.  I have three boys and you’ve never missed a single birthday. How’s that even possible?

    I’m gonna make a confession, Mom.  There have been moments in my life where I have thought to myself, “God doesn’t love me.  Why would He?”  We all get blue and feel crummy about ourselves.  I have special gifts in this area.  Here’s the thing.  I have never doubted for a moment in my life that I am loved by my mom.  Even when I was acting like a moody, pain in the ass, immature teenager (sorry about that)…I knew you loved me anyway.  ALWAYS.  So, follow this logic if you would.  When I was struggling and truly blue some thoughts rumbled.  If I know for SURE that my mom loves me even when I am being an idiot, then one starts to suspect that perhaps the God of the universe is maybe even a touch more adept at loving.

    Years pass, and this magnificent example of love in my life? I am given the chance to share it with my own three smelly, sarcastic, terrific ying-yangs.  Motherhood has a funny way of helping even total knuckleheads like yours truly to understand a bit more about love.  Then, circumstances of life rattle me, and that same nagging, negative, interior voice crops up.  The thing is, now I can slay that dragon from the south in short order.

    Why?  First, I know that I have parents who love me NO MATTER WHAT.  Plus, I am certain that there is NOTHING my sons could do that could cause me to quit loving them.  Yes, they might disappoint me.  They could break my heart.  Even if one of my sons did something unthinkable, though, I know that I would still love them like you love me.

    So there’s this.  On my bad days, those days when I feel God must not love me because of whatever stupid reason I concoct interiorly with my (high quality) creative gifts….I stop myself.  My math won’t add.  God doesn’t love me.  BUT, I love my boys forever and always?  And I am SURE my mom loves her girls to the moon and back?  So.  You and I love better than God?  Hmmm. I mean we’re good.  B-U-T….

    You didn’t know you taught me that I am a cherished daughter of God, did you?  Well, you did. That’s pretty much the best gift ever.

    Even I am not so lacking in humility that I believe you and I love our children better than God loves His.

    Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.  I miss you… and I love you more than you will ever know.

     

  • Top 10 Attributes of Joyful People

    Joy…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!

  • Declaring my Candidacy

    “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 Teresacropped-shellybday2014.jpg

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

  • Smiling and Loving…and coffee cups

    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.

    https://vimeo.com/145450214

    P.S. Do you think Mother Teresa would care about the color of a coffee cup? Me neither.

  • I’ve got quick thumbs and I cannot lie….

    OfferitUpMy 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.

  • #Soak It Up

    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
    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
    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?

    Yeah, that was God.

    This year’s motto:  #SoakItUp

    Then, shake that sponge, folks!

    Peace Out!

  • Integrity is Everything

    Integrity

    I’m going to make a confession.  I don’t listen when you leave me a voicemail.  I did see that you called and if you are over the age of 60, there’s a fair chance I will call you back.  That’s my nod to the old fashioned notion of respecting our elders.  It’s a solid concept, plus those folks are typically technophobes.  Under 60?  You’ll more than likely get a text that says, “Need something?”

    In good news, I’m not going to be bugged when you ignore my message for a week– or forever.  As long as you respond in a timely manner to my SOS, we are square.  “SOS” would be the triple threat:  call, text and email combo.  That constitutes a legitimate emergency, in which case, you’d better get your shit together and find me if your intention is to remain one of my peeps.

    This (oh-so-flattering) self-portrait I paint is my way of saying I value authenticity.  My life is run at a chaotic, even manic pace.  There are decades of our lives like this, I have decided.  Trust me when I tell you I wouldn’t trade this time in my life for anything– it’s one big frenetic gift from God.

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

    I like this quote so much I had it printed on stationary.  People remember how you make them feel.  For the love of God, and the sake of my soul and yours, I’m getting up on a soap box today as we conclude the school year.

    “Well, we’re planning a trip to Michigan this summer,” I replied just today to a mom who asked about our plans for the vacation months.  “Oh. Well that’s nice.  WE are SO excited to be going to Europe to do some touring and learn some world history with the kids.”

    Sigh.

    Some of my closest friend and I have been wrestling with this issue of why so many folks seem to be trying so hard to make sure that they (or their spouse, child, or all of the above) appear to be better than the rest of us?  It creeps out in discussions of grades, test scores, and most certainly on the sidelines of sporting events.  Has anyone else noticed there’s an epidemic of competitive, hardheartedness around here?  These are good, faith filled people so I know in my soul it’s rooted in simple insecurity and worry.  Each one of us is trying to outdo the other.  Social pressure, the urge to excel– well it’s getting ridiculous,

    If you’re guilty, you know who you are.  I’ve served time for that conviction myself, so I would know.  I do forgive you.  But, CUT IT OUT!  You’re bugging me.

    Here’s the thing.  Authentic, integrity filled, loving people don’t judge you because your kids are on baseball game #78 and you’re counting sunflower seeds as your protein as serving it with a perfectly paired “vegetable” known as popcorn from one of Central Indiana’s finest concession stands, counting down the days until you’re sitting beside Lake Michigan doing NOTHING EDUCATIONAL, thank you! (Yes, I know, that’s a run on sentence.  If you read it correctly you can hear me saying it in one breath, very loudly)!

    Genuine friends don’t get their underwear in a knot when it’s the third practice in a row they’ve schlepped your kid along with them.  They simply understand you have 3 events, and 3 kids, and you can’t tri-locate.  They’re hoping when their 2 toddlers get bigger someone equally kind will take pity on them in their poverty.

    People of integrity overlook a grumpy morning, and in fact, a really genuine friend may gently call it to attention if it’s a repeat offense and offer to talk, pray or hug.

    The older I get, the less time I have for people with agendas or those looking down on me.  It takes courage to simply be up front or invest a moment to be kind.  We’re got to do a better job a loving each other, darn it!

    That means if my son is being a jackass, I’ll believe you.  When you confess you let him have it, I’ll not get in your face.  I’ll say, “Thanks for handling it.”  Guess what?  The uber competitive parenting?  I’m out.  You win.

    It’s true I’m super proud of my oldest son for having the most compassionate heart, and I’ll cheer really loudly for him if he somehow hangs onto the best case scenario B- he is desperate for in Math.  You betcha when Drew takes the ball hard to the hoop or Zach catches a line drive, I’ll be smiling widely and clapping with volume.  AT THE SAME TIME, I’ll be genuinely pleased for your kid who got an A+, and I’ll pray for him and his peace of heart when you share with me he’s feeling defeated by a coach who plays favorites instead of your equally talented, good character kid.

    Can’t we be on the same team?

    I’ve run into too many people of late who seem to have this habit of keeping score in all things.  I love me some good competition as much as anyone.  However, we’ve made a left turn somewhere with our “Blue Ribbon, A+ Schools” and our “I’m better than you” mentality.  Maybe comparing ourselves with others is natural and I’m sure it can be beneficial sometimes.  I argue today, however, that we must be collectively desperate for reassurance and comfort.

    So, if it makes you feel better to know that my youngest son won’t eat anything that resembles a sandwich, and the only vegetable he will eat is corn on the cob….well…I’m here for you other “inadequate” moms.

    However, our worth as mamas should not be measured against the successes and failures of another gal who’s doing her best not to raise little criminals.  Our worth should be measured in how well we love.  Let’s try for affirmation and reassurance of one another?  Let’s agree to cut out the crap and keep it real.  There’s no such thing as a perfect cookie cutter Christian.  We’re all doing our best– or are we?  For me, I think the only authentic glimpse of eternity that we get here on this planet is to truly love one another.

    Guess what?  That means we have to have the humility to realize who we are and who God is calling us to love.  You and I need to look up from the cell phone and scan the room.  We’re supposed to LOVE these people right here in front of us.  Let’s build each other up, folks.

    For all of you who ever walked away from me feeling like you were less, or if I made you mourn what your kid isn’t, or you felt belittled, or ignored, then that day, I got it woefully wrong….and I am profoundly sorry.

    My aim is to follow the example of Mother Teresa from here on out.  Loving without condition, loving like Jesus, is not easy.  Still, I think it’s worth looking at the cross again and trying a little hard.

    Someday, I want my kids to say, “My mom, she was kind of a sassy pain in the rear, but she was kind to everyone.”

    It’s something nobel to work on.  It’s called having integrity.

    “I have found the paradox that if I love until it hurts, then there is no more hurt, but only more love.”  –Mother Teresa