He Never Misses

Shelly Thieme:

Always Editing

My Indiana

“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.

March 27, 2015
A Disheartening Brawl

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.

January 7, 2015
Pumpkin Pie
Radiating Christ

Dear Jesus,

Help me to spread Your fragrance wherever I go.

Flood my soul with Your Spirit and Life.

Penetrate and possess my being so utterly

That my life may only be a radiance of Yours.

Shine through me, and be so in me

That every soul I come in contact with

May feel Your presence in my soul.

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!
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 (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.)
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November 9, 2014
Eagle Eyes

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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!

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

October 23, 2014
On 9/11…

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.

Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner.

September 11, 2014
Challenge Accepted, Cathy!

Vivian and Cathy, pictured here with their cute husbands. Treasures, all.

Her text opened with an update on her husband who has been hospitalized with heart trouble. “He is tired but okay today. Took a nap but just cannot catch up.” She’s one of those people, like me, who write texts so long you have to unscramble the order to make any sense of their content. “I took a long time at the store today, reading labels,” she continued, “he loves chili but the sodium is awful.” Finally, she closed with, “How are you? Your prayer life, your spirit?”

I replied with a great low sodium chili recipe I stole a few years back from my health conscious younger sister, and I followed up with a query about her own physical well being. You see, Vivian s a bit of a Florence Nightingale kind of gal. She often sacrifices too much for those around her. It’s my own personal observation, one with which I am certain she would disagree.

Wise and grace-filled friends are a gift from God.

Vivian responded, “Okay, respond to my question about your holiness and spirit.” Then, she added a smiley face emoji.

If the goal is to become a magnificent woman, then she has achieved it.

“My prayer life? Hmm. I am not taking enough time. My faith is strong but I am not praying much. I feel like all I do is petition. After communion today, I just thanked Jesus for being with me now and told Him I love You and I need help to love You more.”

After I watched Peyton finish off the home team in my beautiful new basement, surrounded by the handsome Thieme men, I re-read what I had written. It was clear to me I needed to work on gratefulness. I thanked our amazing Creator for pointing it out so loudly, and I closed my eyes.

Today, I woke to a Facebook challenge by another Jesus girl to write and post for 5 days, 3 things for which I am grateful. Coincidence? Ha!! I am taking that up for one primary reason. It’s clear to me that Jesus used Cathy, my challenger, as His voice today.

Ask and you shall receive…huh?!

DAY 1: Three (3) Things for Which I am Grateful

1. Magnificent Faith-Filled Friends (You know who you are!) These are the gals who zero in on what’s truly important, who walk alongside, keep their sense of humor, affirm the worth of themselves and those around them, express themselves authentically, and who listen with love. You girls have taught me how to juggle, rebound, nurture, commit and pray. You are the face of Jesus in my life….and I love you all!

2. My Achy-Breaky Heart: I curse it sometimes, like when the original mean girl, Nellie Olsen, is simply horrid to Half-Pint and my eyes instantly well up as I flip past an ancient episode of Little House on the Prairie. The thing is, that aching means God gifted me with compassion. When I feel that ache in real life, God is winking at me. He’s prodding. Go, Shelly, act. Give. Listen. Offer. Sometimes, I don’t wanna. Occasionally, I ignore it. However, I have found that when I feel the ache, see the truth, and do nothing….it is a day I die a little inside. That achy-breaky heart is a beautiful gift from God. Listening and acting (without being attached to the outcome)…It’s God’s light shining in me for a moment. Nothing feels better.

3. A Diet Coke, extra ice, in a styrofoam cup, with a lid and a straw. Not to be shallow or mean, but all other beverages fail to compare. Sometimes, my adorable husband hand delivers one to me. He just gets me.

WHAT ARE YOU GRATEFUL FOR?

Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks, receives; and the one who seeks, finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened. (Matthew 7: 7-8)

September 8, 2014
Losing Shannon

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

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

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

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

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

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

August 26, 2014
Hello, Randolph Crescent Dr.

We dug up St. Joe…thanks for helping us sell the place! NO SAINTS LEFT BEHIND!

“It’s been a good 12-year run” noted my succinct son Nick Fred.
Today, we begin the work of moving the boxes to a new address. I am sitting here in my stripped down house dripping wet and taking a break. There’s something cathartic and wonderful about a fresh start. Tons of sweaty work lies ahead, but I’m feeling enthusiasm.
My husband, however, seems to be struggling. Change stresses him out. Plus, he woke up this morning, the first day of our move, and he cannot feel his right hand. He injured his arm this week. Pain is never good– especially moving day! How are we going to do this when I can’t life anything? Is it the wrong lot? The wrong time? Did we make mistakes as we built? Is it too expensive? These are the questions I imagine in his mind.
He’s not alone, as I worry too. However, I just read a quote that sums up my feelings on the matter.
“Don’t worry about being worried. You’re headed out on an adventure and you can always change your mind along the way and try something else.” –Tracy Kidder
Friends and family are priceless at these moments. Vivian is checking in and praying for us, and that’s excellent because I’m pretty sure she has Jesus ‘s cell number and everything. Ange and Katie brought dinner. Lisa, Dawn, Chris and Ann are loaning us their sons strong backs this afternoon. CAN I GET AN AMEN?! My youngest son has moved to Camp Schwegman for the week (thanks Renee and Jeff!!) and my dear friend Julie has been listening to my fretting for weeks on end.
Did I mention that the Hounds 14U team is hosting a tourney this weekend and the Thieme family is the slacker crew not available to help at all? Our long time baseball friends on the team were gracious and understanding. Mom has packed endless boxes and helped me get the house on the market with her mad organizational genius. Both parents are coming for moral support and unboxing at the new place tomorrow. Grandpa Tom spent his entire day driving Nick to and from Cincinnati for ball games so we could attend to the move. My next door neighbor Shelley dragged 4 big rugs from the curb to keep them from being ruined when they arrived earlier than expected. Karen showed up at my door with her headband and work clothes on ready to help me box up my life. The Kiffs hooked us up with both a realtor and an insurance man we dig and didn’t even act like they were bugged when we forgot their son’s graduation gift.
What I am trying to say is…………….WE ARE BLESSED BEYOND WORDS!
So, it’s a short entry today. I’m placing it in God’s hands and letting Him do with our next adventure as He wishes. I’m hoping He’ll choose to use us and our beautiful new place as a safe and positive environment for the our three crazy boys and their friends, for immediate and extended family gatherings, and for always remembering to be grateful to Him for it all.

July 10, 2014
For Pity’s Sake, She Said…

Easter Season is the time for Joy and Gratitude!

I knew it was coming.
“Will all those married couples celebrating an anniversary in the month of May please stand for a blessing?”
My mind flashed back to that surreal day in the ER where her body laid lifeless in front of me and his forlorn eyes looked through me as his words echoed, “We didn’t make it to 50.”
Making no eye contact, I reached over and put my hand on his knee. He grabbed it and as couples in pews all around us announced how many years of marriage they were celebrating, my father-in-law and I just sat quietly, holding hands. This month, Jane and Tom would have celebrated 50 years of marriage.
Sigh.
Weirdly, this seemed like a good way to start Mother’s day to me. Together there at mass we sat, my father in law, my husband, and our three cute boys.
My own amazing mom was due to arrive shortly, and we would casually celebrate the day with a cookout, just hanging out together doing nothing, and doing it on a gorgeous and warm sunny day delivered with love by a God who seemed to spoil me with blessings on Mother’s Day 2014.
Nick and Drew wrote beautiful notes of thanks, and when paired with Zach’s hand drawn rainbow card, I wondered how God could choose me to mother these incredible children. As the daylight was starting to wind down, my hubby and I went on a joyride in his sporty little red car and finished the day with the most delicious margarita and a short walk downtown.
As I headed to bed, I texted a dear friend, “If I don’t wake up tomorrow, you can tell everyone that I died happy!”
So, this week started out spectacularly!!
Life can be a bumpy road though, and so the past 5 days have brought quite a bit of chaos, some interior anger and a touch of impatience. At one point on Tuesday evening, I found myself at an accident scene with my 16-year-old son and two Fishers police officers, with my phone ringing requesting a home showing, and my 9-year-old son feeling like he was going to vomit.
What happened to the convertible ride and the sunset margaritas, God? Sigh.
It’s so tempting to focus on what’s troubling us. It’s tempting to be angry, or impatient. I don’t know about you, but for me it’s easy to forget gratitude when life doesn’t appear to be going my way. The thing is, God knows exactly where I am. He knows all about my sick little guy, my shaken new driver and his crunched car, my 13 unsuccessful house showings, the giant laundry pile, stressed out husband…and on and on. And He placed me right here, right now. So, here’s where He wants me, and it seems like whining about God’s plan is a touch counterproductive.
For pity’s sake, don’t start meeting troubles halfway. –St. Teresa of Avila
St. Teresa of Avila was a brilliant chick and is an inspiring saint. What makes her so amazing to me is that her advice is so accessible to me in 2014. I mean, she has a point. I’m guessing if she were here to give me some guidance, she’d suggest gratefulness to God for my MANY blessings, a joyful spirit, patience and trust.
Rejoice always. Pray without ceasing. In all circumstances give thanks, for this is the will of God for you in Christ Jesus. (1 Thess 5:16-18)
In the spirit of St. Teresa, I’m sharing today my rather un-fancy, somewhat inarticulate prayer, offered with a joyful heart. She famously said, “You pay God a compliment by asking great things of Him.” So, here I go.
Thanks, God for giving me a terrific father-in-law so willing to take in a sick third grader while my house is unavailable. You are amazing and awesome for keeping my son safe on the road, despite his accident and inexperience. I love you and I trust you with the circumstances of my life this day and plead with you for increased faith and the grace to be all that You mean for me to be for those around me today. Lord, You above all know my every need before I ask. Help me to love you more and to be a light for others. Please bless my family and all those for whom I have promised pray. Oh, and God? I know Your plan is the best plan and I thank You for taking great care of me, even when I grouse at you and act like a spoiled toddler. Amen.
There’s no sin or wrong that gives man such a foretaste of Hell in this life as anger and impatience. –St. Catherine of Siena.

May 16, 2014
How Can We Know the Way?

Children’s Museum “selfie”, including photobomb by Drew and Grandpa!

Spring Break 2014 is looking good so far.

Two of my three favorite young men are home lounging with me and yesterday we were greeted with a lovely sighting. Grandma Kate and Grandpa Jim brought us some special visitors from Chicago. A rarely and smiley day of fun with Aunt Robbi, along with cousins Maddie and Ellie ensued. We giggled our way through the Indianapolis Children’s Museum then onto a late lunch before most of the crew headed off to see either “The Muppets” or “Noah” and I drove down to Bishop Chatard High School to catch some Guerin Catholic baseball action where son # 3 simply couldn’t be left without a fan base, despite the rain.

Granted, it’s not sun and sand, but it’s an overflowing scoop of favorite people topped off with the angelic little toothless grin of my youngest Goddaughter, Ellie! Elle-belle is a 1^st grader at All Saint’s Academy near my sister’s home in Naperville, IL.

“Aunt Thelly. I read at thcool math. But it wathn’t even fair. The reading wath impothible. It wath full of eth-eth”

I couldn’t stop smiling at her. She was just like a piece of candy….you want to eat her up she is so sweet.

“Thesse thent hith theven thons to Thamuel.” She explained.

“Jesse sent his seven sons to Samuel?” I interpreted. “That’s what you had to read at school mass, Ellie?”

“Yeth!”

I mean, she’s 40lbs of sunshine that one. I couldn’t stop laughing. That moment of toothless cuteness is just a tiny window of time I now realize as my boys are all well past it. I SOOOO wish I could have been a fly on the wall at that mass. I think it’s a little rude of my sis to marry a guy from Chicago and move so far from me, actually. Don’t you agree?

Today is Spring Break day 2 and it’s a bit lower key. I let my two “staycationers” sleep in while I headed to 8am mass. As I was getting ready to leave, my “holy texting friend” Vivian invited me (via text of course) to come sit with she and her hubby for the mass, after which I had set up an appointment for confession.

If I am honest, I didn’t sleep well last night. I was reflecting again on what I needed to apologize to Jesus about and I was tossing and turning. This confession seemed particularly overdue. There are loads of things every day I do or don’t do, or say, for which I know I need forgiveness. I suppose they had been piling up a bit.

Really, though, the biggest impediment for me in being the woman Jesus means for me to be this day is my own lack of forgiveness of myself. Many times, even after I know Jesus has forgiven me, I hang on to my sin, beating myself up over mistakes big and small.

My inner dialogue goes something like this:

Shelly. You know better and look at you. You act like you love God but you are just a worthless sinner. What qualifies you to talk about faith with your kids or friends? You’re nothing but a hypocrite anyway.

When it starts to sound like insanity, a broken record inside my crazy head, I know that I am overdue for some sacramental assistance.

It’s funny what happens when I pray “Jesus, I don’t know what I need, but You do, please help me. I want to love You more.”

“Shelly, Satan is clever. He’s insidious. He knows just what to do to disarm you. Lack of forgiveness of self, stirring up old wounds, that’s the devil. The prayer to St. Michael is a prayer of exorcism– say it. It will help you,” said my confessor very matter-of-factly.

We talked a bit more, and he absolved me, then he handed me a book. He asked me to read it, giving me the assignment of reading the first chapter as my official penance.

As I left my realization was that I cannot allow myself to be far from the grace of the sacraments. I need to be at mass receiving Jesus and I need more frequent receipt of the sacrament of reconciliation. Our priests are exhausted, and so I feel guilty asking for even more of their time. The thing is, that whole “the last thing Father needs is a call asking for time from a pain in the ass housewife”… that’s not righteous guilt. What that is about is Satan trying to take away what I know… by any means he can find which will work to unravel me. However, he cannot. Jesus loves me. This I know.

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

Shortly after I returned home today, I got an amazingly well timed message from a friend via email. It was a copied little piece of a larger work of commentary on David by an author with whom I am not yet familiar named Mark Buchanan.

I don’t believe in coincidence. God’s perfect timing is at work.

In Louis Ginzberg’s monumental 7-volume work The Legend of the Jews, a compilation of the Jewish oral tradition, he retells the story of David in paradise.

According to the legend, David is the superstar of the after life, a personage of “glory and grandeur,” whose throne sits opposite God’s and from which David “intones wondrously beautiful psalms.”

David’s “crown… outshines all others, and whenever he moves out of Paradise to present himself before God, suns, stars, angels, seraphim, and other holy beings run to meet him.”

But the main thrust of the legend is David’s relationship with God.

God throws a lavish feast on the Day of Judgment, and God at David’s bidding himself attends.

At the end of the banquet, God invites Abraham to pray over the cup of wine. Abraham declines on grounds of his unworthiness.

At the point I read this, I think, “Ok God. I’m listening. What are you doing to me today?”

It goes on.

So God asks Isaac, who for similar reasons declines. God then turns to Jacob, Joseph, Moses, Joshua. All beg off for reasons of unworthiness.

Finally, God asks David to bless the cup. And David replies, “Yes, I will pronounce the blessing, for I am worthy of the honor.”

At first blush, this is shocking as I read it. It seems brazen and delusional. Who do you think you are?

The author goes on.

“On second thought, this sounds biblical. The heart of the Bible’s message, muted in the Old Covenant but shouted aloud in page after page of the New, is the improbable, astonishing, breathtaking good news that I am the one Jesus loves.

I am the tax-collector whose house Jesus had to enter, so that salvation could invade it.

I am the leper who cried out to Jesus on his way past Samaria, so that he could speak wholeness into me and then woo me back to worship him.

I am the lame man whose friends lowered me down through the rafters, so that Jesus could speak forgiveness and healing to me.

I am the invalid Jesus found in a dark part of town, bed-ridden and complaining, so that he could say to me, “Get up, take up your mat, and walk.”

I am the prodigal he saw a long way off, who ran to me, threw a feast for me, put his robe and ring and sandals on me.

I am the elder brother who refused to join the party, and so he went out to me and begged me to come in.

I am Lazarus, the one he raised from the dead and then invited to recline with him at the table.

I am not worthy to bless the cup, except He makes me so.

At great cost, all by his own doing, Jesus makes me his own, loves me without condition, forgives me without remainder, places his own name on me, puts his own Spirit in me, and goes ahead to prepare a place for me.

He’s made me a chosen people, a holy nation, a royal priesthood, one who belongs to God.

I am the one Jesus loves.

Let that rattle around a bit. Then say this out loud.

THE AUTHOR OF SALVATION IS CRAZY, MADLY IN LOVE….WITH ME.

You’d think this would be the end of my entry for today, wouldn’t you? But for me, who is a certifiable supernatural thinker, it got even better.

So, I read this lovely email which spoke just exactly to the sinfulness which was most bothering me this morning and I felt it was God kind of yelling at me to get it together. I quite literally took a deep breath and said ALOUD, “Thank you, God. I am listening. Your will, not mine…I get it. You love me. I love you.”

DING.

“One new email message has just arrived.”

I click on it, and the email makes me laugh aloud.

It’s from the editor of a Catholic periodical asking ME to write an article on THIS bit of scripture “How can we know the way?” (Jn 14:5).

What took you so long, Lord? I mean, I think I agreed to try it Your way about 6 seconds ago.

You best be sending the Holy Spirit in a big bad way if You want ME to show anyone the way to anywhere, Big Man. I can get lost on the way to the bathroom sometimes.

Our God is an Awesome God. He also makes me laugh. And laughing makes me smile.

SMILING? MY FAVORITE.

And that is all I’ve got for Spring Break, day 2.

April 3, 2014