Thoughts Along the Journey

One year ago today, a tragic, horrible incident took place at a typical high school in a typical suburban town.  We hear of these shootings on the news far too often.  We grieve and shake our heads, as we wonder "Why?" and then we pray. However, this unimaginable episode was not "just another news story" for my family.  The young woman who was shot was not just a face in the news.  Claire Davis was my cousin's daughter.  She was young, beautiful, and in love with life.  In his misery, another student's anger cost Claire her life.  It was not only heartbreaking for the Davis family, but also for his family. December 13, 2013, will be forever etched in our minds as the day we lost a shining light. Please continue to pray for her parents, brother, grandparents, friends, and relatives.  No school shooting will ever again be "just another" to us. Ceremony Will Mark One Year Since Arapahoe High Shooting « CBS Denver

Dear readers, I have never done anything like this before.  However, the Holy Spirit is directing me to pass this information along. The mom mentioned in this article is a dear friend of mine, who is in desperate need of help NOW. Let us show our Christian love and the spirit of Christ by doing all we can to help them. God bless you all! ~Joni Help for a Friend Posted on Dec 9, 2014 by  Michelle Pendergrass  in  lessons  |  0 comments Update: Over 20% funded in just one hour! You guys are AMAZING!!! Let’s do this!! Friends, I need your help. I believe in connecting people and I think I’m good at it. I wouldn’t put this out there if I doubted the legitimacy of this– I know deep in my heart that this is an intense and immediate need. I’m going to give you a short version of a long story, but enough that you’ll understand why I want to do what I can to help, which includes asking you to help me help this family. So in the spirit of this...

I guess you could call this my "coming out" post, in a sense.  Because I have been struggling with something for many years, and have finally decided to go public with it all.  I am not prefacing my article this way to poke fun at anyone.  It is simply the best way I know to introduce a decision that has made a big impact on my life.  It is a controversial issue among some in the Catholic Church.  Rest assured, though, I am very sure of the path I have chosen, for I was guided there by the Holy Spirit. Ready? Holding your breath? I wore a veil to Mass last Sunday, which was the first Sunday of Advent. This is where you gasp and say to yourself, "You know, Joni had already gone pretty far off the deep end when she became Catholic.  But now?  Now she's trying to take us back to the time of women held under the tyranny of men.  Doesn't she know Vatican II liberated us from all that?  Poor, poor Joni!" Okay, maybe that's a bit overboard...

What do people see when they encounter you?

Just a few thoughts on this beautiful fall evening: When our family became Catholic in 2007, I felt a bit overwhelmed.  With 2,000 years of history, there is a lot to learn.  So many wonderful saints' lives to investigate.  So many writings to read.  So many documents to study.  So many amazing resources to examine.  So many incredible prayers to incorporate into my prayer life. (If you've read any of my articles at Catholic365 , you can learn a bit more about this.) In the midst of all this growing and learning, though, there are a couple of things I have discovered that I think is super, super important: -Don't forget the basics.     1.  Though we attend Mass almost every day, corporate prayer and worship should never be a replacement for personal times of prayer and worship.  (This is a both/and, not an either/or...)     2.  Though I hear Scripture read every time I go to Mass, it should not be a replacement f...

In light of the current Synod on the Family,  I took the opportunity to read Humanae Vitae.   If you are unfamiliar with this document,  it was written by Pope Paul VI in 1968.  The full text can be found here.   Humanae Vitae Keep in mind the year 1968--the time of "Free Love," the sexual revolution,  and  "Sex, Drugs, and Rock & Roll."  The cry of the day was against "the establishment" and the trend was, "whatever feels good,  do it." Yet Pope Paul VI stood strong in the midst of the tidal wave of individualism, and reasserted the teaching of the Church, even when some voices within the Church were calling for a more "open" view to contraception,  abortion,  sex, and family life. I was amazed by the prophetic nature of this writing.   Though written almost 50 years ago, he foretold that, if the course of things continued as they were, the government would one day decide the issue. "It could well happen, ...

As you have probably detected from previous posts, our oldest son has begun his freshman year in college.  It has been quite an adjustment for our family.  But growth is not always easy, is it?  (Thus, the term "growing pains.")  Being stretched can indeed be painful. So, with that in mind, let me share something I have learned during this time of change.  I teach private piano lessons.  We have a rule for our sons that I will not answer the cell phone during a lesson.  It's not fair to the students, or to their parents who are paying me to teach their children.  However, since eldest son has left the nest, any time I see his name on the screen, I automatically answer.  He's away from home, and needs his mom!  Thankfully, this has only happened once or twice.  He is very understanding when I say I will call him back in a few minutes, as soon as the lesson is done.  But even if I have to tell him to wait, I want him to know I...

Growing up in a Pentecostal church, the preaching was where it was at.  I mean, if the pastor could deliver a strong, make-you-really-think-about-your-relationship-with-God, and get-you-to-the altar sermon, then it was a good Sunday morning!  Please read NO sarcasm in this statement.  It was wonderful.  I have heard some amazing preaching in my lifetime.  It didn't have to touch the emotions, either.  If it was something that resonated inside the spirit, then it was a good sermon. Don't get me wrong.  I have heard some very emotion-driven sermons.  They made me laugh.  They made me cry.  They moved me, Bob.  But the best sermons were ones that called me to change.  Called me into a more intimate relationship with Christ.  Called me to be more of who God made me to be. There are very few sermons I actually remember.  But those I do remember have made a lasting impact on my life.   One was given by an ...

When I was in high school, I went through what many would call my "teen angst" stage.  If you're unfamiliar with this term, it is generally a "girl" thing.  Back in the day (1980's), this was usually expressed in diary journals and sad, dark poetry.  For me, my poetry was a way to express myself in words which I found hard to speak.  Most of my writing was an outflow of prayers to God.  A lot of "why me" type of stuff.  Very emotional, teen girl stuff. I have often found that I can express myself more fully in written (or typed) words.  Thus, this blog!  However, poetry is not a genre I have commonly used in my adult life.  For this post, I make an exception. Last night, as I was unsuccessfully trying to drift off to sleep, the following words were flowing from my heart to God.  My first thought was to jump out of bed and hurriedly write it all out.  Alas, jumping out of anything at my age is not the best idea.  And at 11:3...

Yesterday, my role in life took me to a new level.  Well, I shouldn't say it "took" me.  I'm still on the way.  I can't guarantee when I will arrive, either! After a two hour journey, we delivered our son (and a good portion of his earthly possessions) at the doors of higher education.  A few hours and many drops of sweat (and tears) later, we departed for home. If anyone tells you they are relieved to have their son or daughter off to college, please question them further.  There will most likely be underlying issues.  At least that is my guess. This is one of the hardest roles I have lived to date:  Mom of a college freshman.  My little boy is now in the world of adults and life decisions and all that makes for growing up.  Am I sad?  Absolutely.  I miss him so much already!  Am I proud?  Without a doubt. Was I ready for this?  Not nearly as much as I thought I would be.  But God is faithful.  And ...

Photo by Neil Weaver Photography Several years ago when I began this blog, it was all about our family's journey.  We were searching our way through to the Catholic Church, through homeschooling, and into a new phase of our lives.  Almost eight years later, I am truly amazed at the things God has done, and the multitude of lessons we have learned. Another part of my blog has been to share some of my personal struggles and the ups and downs of dealing with panic attacks and anxiety.  Whew!  Now, that should have been a blog of its own!  Again, I stand amazed at the people God has brought into my life and the ways He has walked me through this winding, bumpy roller coaster called life! Let me take you down a new path today.  This is a place God is leading me, and I'd like to invite you to join me. Last Sunday, the Gospel reading for the day was from Matthew 14:22-33: After he had fed the people, Jesus made the disciples get into a boat a...

I have entered that time of life when the "middle ages" have a different meaning.  I have come to think that it refers less to an era of time or a time of life than it does to the middle of the body.  All the weight that was spread throughout my body all my life, has now decided to settle on the equator.  I used to be able to exercise for a couple of weeks, eat a bit healthier, and see that weight redistribute itself to its appropriate latitude and longitude! These days, it seems that the more I walk and eat nutritious food, the more stubborn the battle is for middle ground--if you know what I mean?  Continental drift has a new definition as well!  :o) I have noticed the same is true for things of the spiritual life.  In the past, it seemed that if I felt I was "settling" in my relationship with God, a few days of intensified reading of Scripture and a few added minutes of prayer would set things back into proper order.  The fire would rekindle, an...

The big day--June 17, 1989 Newly weds!  circa 1991 25 years and still in love Got to meet Paula in person!  Yay! For those who aren't aware, I was away on vacation during late June/early July.  My husband and I celebrated our 25th anniversary on June 17th.  Back in 1989, our honeymoon was spent in Westcliffe, CO.  My sister and her husband graciously agreed to host us at their vacation home in Westcliffe.  It was an amazing experience, as our two sons had never seen the mountains before this summer. Seeing the mountains again (it had been 23 years for me!) was more than awe-inspiring.  It was more like renewing an old acquaintance, as while I was growing up, I had spent most of my summer vacations there.  There are too many memories to share here, for sure!  The smell of the sweet grasses, pine trees, and cool mountain air are indescribable!  My memories are of a young, red-haired, freckle-faced girl with braids and...

There once was a man, young in years, yet wise.  He married his true love, prepared to make a life for them on the fertile lands of the Midwestern Plains.  He knew the soil, the seasons, and the life, as it had been his way of living since birth.  They shared their love of tending the soil, for nurturing each other, and, most important, their love for God.  As they began their journey of wedded bliss, however, there were storm clouds on the horizon. For in a far off country, Communism was dividing the land.  Brother was fighting against brother.  The domination of the many by the few was unveiling the realities of the ideology.  Women and children were suffering and mourning the loss of their husbands, fathers, and sons.  The leadership of our country decided it was time to step in. And so it was, that the young man--though just beginning his new life, and not yet even 21 years of age--was called by his country to fight on the soil of a foreig...

If there is one thing that is really hard for me (to deal with), it's being misunderstood.  Whether it is the intention of my actions, or the tone of my voice, or the look in my eyes, I want to be understood. One of the prime examples is from the birth of our second son.  While in labor, and just minutes before he made his presence known, I was in the middle of a hard contraction.  The pressure against my lungs was immense.  I couldn't catch my breath.  I felt like I was going to pass out.  I gasped out, "I can't..."  But before I could say, "Breathe," one of the nurses rolled her eyes and said, "Oh, yes, you can."  Seriously?  I had my first son with no drugs whatsoever.  I know what natural childbirth feels like.  I wanted to scream at her, "I know what I'm going through.  I just can't BREATHE!"  But, alas, my next contraction hit, and my mind shifted to more pressing issues than straightening out the nurse.  :o) ...

Yesterday afternoon, I saw a young man take one of his many steps toward independence and adulthood.  As the tassle was moved from one side of the mortarboard to the other, a giant leap was made.  High school was ended. Nineteen years ago, I heard the most remarkable news:  we were going to have a baby!  Our first, and the child of our prayers, David has been such an amazing blessing to our lives since that first moment when we learned of his presence in my womb. As he takes these next strides into his adult life, it is time for Mom and Dad to take some steps back.  But the prayers will always be there, son.  May God go with you, lead you, and be your ever-present Source. Love you!

Today's Scripture reading was the story of the road to Emmaus.  If you're not familiar with the story, it takes place on the day of Christ's resurrection. " That very day two of them were going to a village named Emma′us, about seven miles from Jerusalem,    and talking with each other about all these things that had happened.    While they were talking and discussing together, Jesus himself drew near and went with them.    But their eyes were kept from recognizing him." Two of Jesus' followers were leaving Jerusalem.  Hearts broken from seeing their Teacher crucified, they were returning home.  They were discussing it all, probably trying to sort it out.  What would they do, now that the one [they believed to be the Messiah] wad dead?  Yet, the women said He was alive.  What should they make of all this?  And then, He was there.  A man that seemed to be just another traveler.   "And he said to them...