“Suffering and diminishment are not the greatest of evils, but are normal ingredients in life, especially in old age. They are to be accepted as elements of a full human existence . . . As I become increasingly paralyzed and unable to speak, I can identify with the many paralytics and mute persons in the Gospel . . If the Lord now calls me to a period of weakness, I know well that his power can be made perfect in infirmity. “Blessed be the name of the Lord!'” (Avery Dulles, S.J., 39th McGinley Lecture, April 1, 2008.)
Especially for those in desperation . . . this song by Audrey Assad is for you. (Lyrics below) Just reach out your hand . . .
You’ve been let down, it’s true
Your pain is so easy to see
You’re hunted by your history
and it feels like you’ve got no escape
Your life left you high and dry
You used to be sure of yourself
But then your whole world went to hell
and tomorrow looks like just like today
So, you lie on your bed, you won’t let the morning come in
And you hide in your room, feeding that fear and it’s killing you
don’t you know
that it’s killing me too, cause your heart break is breaking you
I miss the life in your eyes
the home that I found in your arms
and now you don’t know who you are
but I won’t give up on you
on no
You lie on your bed, you wont let the morning come in
And you hide in your room, feeding that fear and it’s killing
don’t you know
that i’ts killing me too, cause your heart break is breaking you
and you lost your fight
and your flame’s gone out
and you’re down on your knees
cause your life is not what you thought it would be
no,
lift up your head
help is on the way
and it won’t pass you by
you just gotta reach out your hand
lift up your eyes
love is on the way
and it won’t pass you by
you just gotta reach out your hand
go on and lift up your head
because love is on its way
and it won’t pass you by
you’ve just gotta reach out your hand
Another person I want to be like when I grow up. (If you’ve seen this before, it’s worth a re-look.) This will give you hope, especially if you don’t want to get out of bed in the morning.
Today we celebrate the birth of Mary. I have to say that this morning when I woke up, I felt like breaking into a little song to her, at least “Happy birthday to you . . .”–which sounds so trite–but I knew in my heart that that would be dear to her . . . because she is that kind of Mother.
I want to share the first verse of a poem by Rilke because I think it conveys the sense of joy in the heavens at the birth of this great gift of God to us.
Birth of Mary
O what must it have cost the angels
not suddenly to burst into song, as one bursts into tears,
since indeed they knew: on this night the mother is being
born to the boy, the One, who shall soon appear.
(Rainer Maria Rilke, translated from the German by…
“It is very important that we do not allow Our Lady to be distanced from us by her Immaculate Conception, but to be brought closer to us. She is the one to teach us poor sinners because she is called the Refuge of Sinners. Our Lord did not give her to Saint John and say, ‘Now I am giving her to you, and she is the Mother of all the flawlessly holy ones.’ But he gave her to be the Mother of all persons . . . and he knew what was in man, what is in each one of us, our weaknesses as well as strengths.” (Mother Mary Frances)
Thinking today about Corrie ten Boom’s famous quote about embroidery–how we see one side, but God the other:
“Although the threads of my life have often seemed knotted, I know, by faith, that on the other side of the embroidery there is a crown.” – (Corrie Ten Boom in My Heart Sings)
If you would like to see the actual embroidery she was referring to, you can go here.
(Note: this is a respost. But you can’t get enough of a good thing. Have a blessed Sunday!)
Amy Carmichael’s note on this poem of hers: “Ps 109.21. A prayer that may be unfathomable comfort to the ill and tired: ‘Do Thou for them, for him, for her, O God the Lord.’ When one cannot pray minutely or powerfully, this prayer suffices. We need not tell Love what to do; Love knows.” God knows better than we what is best for those we love. Here Amy is simply encouraging us to trust Him who knows how to love best.
Do Thou For Me
Do Thou for me, O God the Lord,
Do Thou for me.
I need not toil to find the word
That carefully
Unfolds my prayer and offers it,
My God, to Thee.
It is enough that Thou wilt do,
And wilt not tire,
Wilt lead by cloud, all the night through
By light of fire,
Till Thou has perfected in me
Thy heart’s desire.
For my beloved I will not fear,
Love knows to do
For him, for her, from year to year,
As hitherto.
Whom my heart cherishes are dear
To Thy heart too.
O blessèd be the love that bears
The burden now,
The love that frames our very prayers,
Well knowing how
To coin our gold. O God the Lord,
Do Thou, Do Thou.
I’m reading Fr. Donald Haggerty’s Contemplative Provocations and I keep getting stuck at each paragraph, like this one:
The inclination to hiddenness is a quiet mark of holiness. It corresponds to the secrecy of relations between a soul and God. For it seems to be God’s consistent habit with souls to conceal himself even when they are close to him. We can surmise that the saints came to know well this divine preference for concealment. It added intensity to their seeking after God in his many disguises. Rather than frustrating them, the divine hiding provoked them with intense longings. And it aroused in them a desire for their own concealment, not from God, but from the eyes of others, so that they might remain among the unknown and the recognized. If we want to find holiness, the first place to search is in the shadows and corners.
Witnesses to Hope 