See Jesus through Suffering to Joy

Imagine yourself as Jesus, sitting side-by-side with your best friends on Holy Thursday. You’ve just instituted the Eucharist as a way to stay with your friends, knowing that you’ll be physically leaving them later tonight. You’ve taken them away to pray, and you plead for strength to get through what lies ahead. You pray for your followers, the men and women whom you’ve been preparing for three years. You pray, desperately wanting to find another way, any other way, but already it has begun, and you bow to your Father’s will. One of your chosen twelve has betrayed you and led the Romans to your arrest. The soldiers come to take you to your judgment and your death. Your followers have scattered, none remaining at your side. You are stripped, beaten, scourged, and perhaps even worse, you’ve heard your Peter, your rock, deny you.

Dragging a heavy, rough-hewn cross along your final sorrowful way, on a shoulder still raw from the whip, you see the pain in the eyes of the women. You see your mother and are pierced by the same grief that pierces her heart. You are nailed to the cross, your hands and feet bearing the weight of your body on the excruciating pain of the nails. You struggle to breathe, knowing you are counting your last gasps. But you summon breath to give your mother to John and by so doing, make her mother to the world. And then you forgive the people who’ve inflicted the pain that is unbearable, so unbearable that you die.

If imagining yourself as Jesus suffering has moved your emotions, you have just seen Jesus.

Now imagine yourself, one of His followers, at the foot of the cross. You look up at Him, the One you hoped would ease your pain. And instead, He has just exhaled His last breath. Are you next to die?

Fear. Doubt. Grief. If you have known any of those emotions, any of this pain in your life, you have been at the foot of the cross and you have seen Jesus through suffering. More importantly, He has seen you. He knew then, and He knows now the pain in your heart. Whether it is emotional pain from abuse, betrayal, abandonment, guilt, or the physical pain of a broken body as yet unhealed, He saw you from the cross. He sees you now. And He knows that in long nights of anguish, or brief glimpses of His nearness, you have reached out to Him. You have found Him through pain. Perhaps seeing you, as you looked with faith to Him, eased some of His pain.

We are truly blessed to live many years after that crucifixion night. We know the hope of the resurrection—both Jesus’ resurrection and our own still to come. In that hope, we see Jesus, and not only see Him, but we are invited to live beyond the pain, to live with Him forever. Through Easter, we will see Him in joy! He sends us experiences of Joy to keep us filled with hope.

Perhaps we experience His touch of joy in nature:

• Something about green trees, untamed animals, water on the move, snowy mountains, or a star-teemed sky can make our hearts surge with thanksgiving to the Creator.
• Leaving routine behind as we travel into the wilderness holds restoration for the weary. Jesus exemplified this by going away to pray. He calls us to retreat to the desert, as well as to mountaintop experiences.
• “Beside still waters he refreshes my soul.” Psalm 23

We might experience Jesus’ joy through children:

• Holding a tiny baby and seeing one of her first smiles delights us. The miracle that we behold, as we snuggle a newborn, is a taste of the miracle of taking Jesus into our arms and loving Him with awe and thanksgiving.
• Watching a child discover new experiences refreshes our own outlook.
• Having a little one come running for comfort and being calmed with a hug or soothed on our lap lifts our hearts.
• Rocking a child to sleep brings peace to our hearts.
• Seeing a teen discover pride in a job well done we share their joy.
• Giving a daughter away to a well-chosen groom gives us hope for the future.
• Holding a new grandchild, we remember holding the parent. Such happiness!

We can find Jesus’ joy through helping others.

• There’s an old Chinese proverb, “If you want happiness for an hour—take a nap. If you want happiness for a day—go fishing. If you want happiness for a year—inherit a fortune. If you want happiness for a lifetime—help someone else.”
• “The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.” Making the world a better place for others is one beautiful path to joy. Joy comes from using our gifts for others. — Frederick Buechner
• “Whoever is happy will make others happy.” ―Anne Frank
• “Those who are not looking for happiness are the most likely to find it, because those who are searching forget that the surest way to be happy is to seek happiness for others.” ―Martin Luther King, Jr.

Another route to joy is through gratitude. Appreciating what we have focuses us on how blessed we already are.

• “If you want to find happiness, find gratitude.” ―Steve Maraboli
• “It is not joy that makes us grateful, it is gratitude that makes us joyful.” David Steindl-Rast

But perhaps the Easter message sums up all joy as the result of Love.

• “If you keep my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commands and remain in His love. I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete. My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you.” John 15

Thank you for reading these Lenten posts. I pray they have helped you. May your Easter bring you joy and help you to see Jesus!

See Jesus through Suffering

Our elderly Frank continues to tell his story:

Sometimes, pain forces our attention on God. Not that God gives us pain, but evil, poor choices, and our broken world do. Yet, God can take our suffering and turn it into good. He might utilize a trauma to help us realize how much we depend on God, and how little we can do without Him. That’s the way it was for my son.

Daniel and I were arguing in the middle of the street. Suddenly, a car careened around the corner and skidded toward us. Daniel had his back to it and, consumed by his own anger, wasn’t paying attention. I grabbed his jacket, pushing him as hard as I could out of the way, and shouted, “God, save my son!” He was bigger than me by that age, but I firmly believe God gave me extra strength. I had succeeded in getting him out of the path of the car, but it hit me and threw me into the air. I don’t remember anything after that, until a few days later when I woke in the hospital, so the rest of this story is what my son told me.

Daniel called 911, screaming for an ambulance, not only for me, but for several members of his football team in the car, which had hit a tree after hitting me. I’m told he stayed at my side at the hospital, terrified that I would die. And maybe it was touch and go for a while there. I had broken a hip and two ribs and lay in a concussion-induced coma.

According to my son, he railed against God, demanding to know why He’d let this happen. Wasn’t it enough that he didn’t have a mother? Would God take his father, too, a father who, in my son’s words, had served God so diligently? If so, Daniel reasoned, if I died, he didn’t want to have a God that was that mean. He’d never believe in God again. He was determined to renounce his faith.

By the third day, things weren’t looking good for my recovery. The doctors had started trying to prepare him for the worst. Terrified, he realized he needed a world where miracles were possible. He needed a God who could heal. Daniel, in desperation, made a pact with God to return to his faith and become a priest if God would spare my life. Soon after that, I awoke. That timing, that answer to prayer, was more than a miracle for me. It worked miraculously in Daniel’s heart and soul, too. Little did I know that when I begged, “God, save my son,” He would save him spiritually as well as physically.

Five key players of the football team were hurt badly enough to require weeks to recover. The coach decided to forfeit the season, partially as a lesson to the whole team about underage drinking and driving, and about making choices to promote one’s health. Daniel immersed himself in his faith with his newfound time. True to his word, he returned to our morning Masses. He studied the Bible. He joined the Youth Group and would tell his story to anyone who would listen. He began to research colleges with seminary programs. He’d found his own Savior, and more importantly, his Friend. He admitted to being pretty fond of me, too, and happy to have me safe.

Betty here:

Of course, we don’t often experience miraculous deliverance from our suffering, but when we reach out to God from our pain, He answers and fills us with His Grace. He comforts and accompanies us throughout our agony. The psalmist says, “Though I walk through the valley of death, I will fear no evil, for He is at my side.” (23:4)

Jesus knows suffering. He experienced torture and death, dying to prevent us from suffering in the next life. Whenever we look at a cross, we see Jesus and can remember what He went through, for us. As children, we might have been told to “offer it up.” By joining our suffering to Christ’s, it becomes an act of love.

Here are a few other thoughts on suffering from the New Testament:

• He will wipe every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more.” (Revelation 21:4)
• And we boast in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. (Romans 5:2-4)
• Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory. (Romans 8:17)
• To this you were called, because Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in his steps. (1 Peter 2:21)
• And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm, and steadfast. (1 Peter 5:10)

See Jesus in Ourselves

Frank, the wise elderly priest, continues to tell us how he’s come to see Jesus in his life:

One of my favorite blessings as a priest came with the honor of listening to people’s confessions. You might be surprised at that, but sharing such a sacramental moment with anyone is a gift. Sometimes people come in during confessional hours and you can tell they want to get in and out as quickly as possible. But most people, once they’ve said what they need to say, are open to the many graces God wants to shower on them. And the people who make an appointment for confession off-hours are often hungry for such grace and any spiritual counseling that I’m moved to offer.

Many people come to the confessional weighed down by guilt and feeling very bad about themselves. I listen, not for my own knowledge, but as a conduit connecting God and the parishioner. Their words, both the penitent’s and God’s, flow through me, and I frequently am amazed at how the Spirit directs my response to them. You’d think after so many years as a priest I’d be used to it, but I still often wonder, did I just say that? Where did that come from? It certainly isn’t my own wisdom, but that of the Spirit. Being used that way, for the healing of a sorrowful soul, is one of the greatest gifts of the priesthood!

I don’t want the penitent to leave while weighed down by what they’ve just told me. I want them to realize what a blessed child of God they are, so there’s a question I’ve always loved asking people before I give them their penance and send them on their way.

I say, “Tell me when you’ve been most like Jesus.” Well, usually they start telling me when they’ve been the least like Him. So, I interrupt and say again, “Tell me when you’ve been most like Him.”

I hear quite humbling answers.

One woman said, “When I overlook my husband’s little irritating idiosyncrasies and just love him as he is.”

Another said, “When I’m up in the middle of the night with my infant, and she’s crying, and I’m exhausted but I cuddle her and coo to her and rock her until she falls asleep. I think that’s what Jesus must long to do with us when we aren’t behaving. So often we misbehave because we are tired or hungry or don’t feel loved. But He’s right there holding us and loving us through the hard times.”

So much truth rests in that wise young woman’s words. But women aren’t the only ones who are Christ-like. One man told me, “My joints hurt most of the time. I’ve had severe arthritis for years, but I try not to complain. I think about Jesus and how He suffered for me, and I thank Him, and then the pain doesn’t seem intolerable.”

Another man had a hard time letting go of all the times he’d missed the mark. I had to repeat my question several times, but finally he looked up at me with tears in his eyes and said, “I’m divorced. I didn’t want it, but I am, and sadly, my ex-wife is very angry with me, so she belittles me in front of the kids. I’m most like Jesus when I resist the temptation to do the same about her. He never returned anything but good for evil. I try to remind myself of that, and I try to tell the kids about her good qualities. I don’t want them to think that whatever part of them comes from her isn’t anything but wonderful.”

The elderly man paused and looked at Pedra, who had been recording his words in shorthand as quickly as he spoke.

“How about you, Pedra,” he asked, “when have you been most like Jesus?”

Pedra looked up from her notepad, then looked down again, not wanting to meet Frank’s gaze. She could feel her cheeks burn, and her first thoughts were all the ways she wasn’t like Jesus at all. Frank let her relax into his silence and simply waited. Finally, she said, “I’m most like Jesus when I’m in this room, listening to your stories, and completely enjoying being with you. I hope He enjoys being with me, but I am absolutely sure He enjoys being with you, Frank.”

“Pedra,” Frank answered, “you have no idea how wonderful you are. And I don’t have much time left to convince you. But you are. You make me feel like there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. That’s a remarkable gift of friendship. And I promise you, Jesus loves being with you, listening to you confide in Him, sharing your friendship. He loves you, Pedra, just the way you are right now. He doesn’t need you to be perfect. He’ll aways encourage us to be better, but He also delights in who we are right now.”

She looked at the good man through tears in her eyes.

“Go home,” he said. “Talk to God. Listen to Him. Let Him show you all the ways you are wonderful.”

Betty here. What more can I say? Go home. Talk to God. Listen to Him. Let Him show you all the ways you are wonderful. He loves you, just the way you are right now. He doesn’t need you to be perfect. He’ll aways encourage us to be better, but He also delights in how we are right now.

See Jesus in yourself.

See Jesus through Forgiveness

Our story continues with Frank telling us about his young wife leaving, soon after her baby was born.

Long before I became a priest, I was a husband and a father. I remember the rush of emotions the first time I took my son into my arms. He was so tiny, so perfect. I wanted to protect him from all harm and difficulty. I wanted to always be able to surround him in an embrace and hold him close. What a miracle a child is!

Of course, parenting isn’t easy in the best of circumstances, but within a couple months of his birth, his mother Marcie had left us, called away to save the world, she thought.

I was angry—really, really angry. I couldn’t believe it. I felt like she had used me. I was just someone to leave Baby Daniel with, so she could be free of responsibility. I have to admit I was furious with God, too. Why did He let this happen? Why did He let me love her so deeply and then lose her? I had been torn between being a family man and being a priest, and it seemed Marcie had made the decision for me. Plus, I was exhausted. I tried to do all that our son needed, but with my sleep interrupted for feedings, my worry about finances, and sheer emotional devastation, I was a mess. Looking back now, I thank God that my parents were there to help me those first few months.

I never resented Daniel. That sweet little boy was the bright spot in a dark time. However, each time he cried, I thought of Marcie and grew angrier that she wasn’t here to help us. Eventually, I realized I couldn’t hold on to my anger and be a good father. Daniel would feel the tension in my arms and cry harder or see my scowl and frown in response. When I realized my hurt ran too deep to easily forgive Marcie, I began to pray, both for assistance to forgive, and for her wellbeing. Also, holding him, watching him stare at me as he drank a bottle, and eventually seeing him smile at me helped to heal the wound in my soul. Around nine months after she left, I could think about her without seething. As I watched Daniel try to toddle on his own, I imagined my “forgiveness muscles” also toddling and growing stronger.

Just when I thought I was gaining my equilibrium, my mom and dad were killed in a car accident. I could have slipped back into despair and anger with God, but He gave me the grace I needed. I know if I hadn’t done the work to forgive Marcie, my heart would have been hardened, and this next loss would have turned it into stone. With God’s help, I managed to keep going.

Betty here again.

Our faith instructs us to forgive others. We may tell ourselves we don’t need to because they aren’t sorry, they intended to hurt us, and they don’t deserve to be forgiven. But if we don’t forgive, our hearts harden. We are less able to forgive the next time we are hurt, and the next. If things don’t change, we become angry and bitter. Before long we start feeling the world is out to get us, and we see ourselves as victims. Our anger will likely cause people to avoid us, making loneliness reinforce our bitterness. We may think that THEY don’t deserve to be forgiven, but WE deserve the JOY that comes from being FORGIVERS. We deserve to have soft, merciful hearts that are slow to anger, and open to love.

The Lord’s Prayer says, “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” (Matthew 6:12)

The New Testament reiterates:

• For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins. (Matthew 6:14-15)
• And when you stand praying, if you hold anything against anyone, forgive them, so that your Father in heaven may forgive you your sins.” (Mark 11:25)
• “Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven. (Luke 6:37)
• Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. (Colossians 3:13)

Let it go. Soften your heart to accept grace. Pray for the ones who hurt you. Don’t allow yourself to dwell on the pain. You will see Jesus as He helps you forgive.

See Jesus in Service

3 See Jesus – in Service

In our story about Frank, he begins to meet Jesus in others as he serves them. He tells Pedra, who is taking his story down in shorthand:

As I grew to be a teen, I followed the precepts of the Church, obeyed the commandments, even Jesus’ command to “love others as I have loved you.” I knew that could mean dying for others. I prayed I could have that kind of courage. But it also meant living for others, which required its own kind of bravery.

Our Youth Group focused on service to others. At first it felt awkward, going to help people. I thought they might be embarrassed by the contrast between their need and our privileged lives, but most of them were truly grateful. We sorted clothes at a local St. Vincent de Paul and were encouraged to converse with those who shopped there. We ran food drives in our neighborhoods. Later we distributed groceries to shelves at the local food bank or boxed up supplies to be delivered to families. We helped manage the lines of people indoors, or the cars outdoors, as people drove up trying to help their food budget reach the end of the month.

Other times we visited nursing homes for the elderly, and we’d sing some old-time songs or simply spread out and visit with the residents. I learned to admire the kind people who worked in the homes every day, whether cleaning up after accidents, helping with showers, or being cheerful and patient when the residents weren’t. Some folks there felt forgotten and abandoned and their hurt could turn to anger. Once, though, I saw one of the crankiest old men turn into a baby-talking cuddler when a therapy dog nudged his hand for a pet. I think we all need a little nudge out of our self-pity occasionally.

In December we would arrange and throw a Christmas party for foster kids. We’d each pick a toy for someone whose name we’d drawn, but we’d also raised money so each child could take home a suitcase or duffle bag for the meager possessions that travelled with them from home to home. Seeing those kids and hearing some of their stories sure made me grateful for my parents. We didn’t have a lot of money, but we did have lots of love. I grew up with a sense of security that those kids might not ever have known. I still pray for foster kids and that truly good people will be inspired to become foster parents.

Later, after my first year of college, one of my professors found me a part-time job at a homeless shelter. I did some cleaning and cooking, but mostly I listened to stories and offered friendship to the friendless. Like Mary and Joseph who fled to Egypt with their newborn Son, some of the guests were immigrants. Some were down on their luck and had lost their homes. Some were addicted to drugs or alcohol or both. But they all needed to be listened to, to be treated with dignity, to be fed and clothed and sheltered. Those people taught me so much. I learned how little in life is really necessary; how relationship is everything. I learned how Jesus was able to hug the lepers. These folks were just as outcast as lepers, so I figured they were His people. It wasn’t always easy, but I occasionally succeeded at seeing Jesus in them.

One man came in every day for the noon meal. He always wore a tee shirt and jeans, much like most of the men there, but he looked more clean-cut than others. It took me a couple of weeks working there to notice that he moved around the diners chatting here and there, and occasionally took one or another of them into a separate room. I asked my supervisor about it, and he said, “Oh, you must mean Doc. He comes to bandage a blister, offer an antibiotic when something is infected, or encourage a person to go to the free health clinic for more care. I even saw him stitch up a knife wound once.”

I asked if he really was a doctor. My boss shrugged his shoulders. “Who knows,” he said. “But he knows his stuff. He never asks for anything more than his lunch, and the people trust him. He’s one of the good guys.”

Those words made me want someone to say that about me someday. “He’s one of the good guys.” Or even more to the point, I wanted to hear God say, on my judgment day, “Well done, you good and faithful servant. What you did for the least of these, you did for Me.”

Betty here: We all want to hear those words on our own judgment day, when we will see God face to face. Whether through service to the poorest of the poor, to our family and friends, or to the people God places in our lives, whatever we do for the least of these, we do for Him.

See Jesus – In Church

Seeing Jesus can result from observing Him in others like we considered last week. However, He draws us to Himself through many different means. Moving closer to Him is a matter of deepening relationships as we love people more, but also as we get to know Jesus better in His Church, through His Word, through Prayer, and through Community. Our protagonist, Frank, tells us more:

As a kid, I enjoyed reading the New Testament. Our Lady had told me I’d meet her Son, and I wanted to be ready. At first, I used a child’s book of stories about Jesus, but eventually a simplified Bible, and before long, a regular Bible. I liked the Jesus I met there. As a child, He must have been a deep thinker, and I could relate to that. I loved how He sat and listened to the elders at the temple and asked questions with understanding, even at twelve. He was kind and gentle with people, but could be passionate, like when money lenders misused His Father’s temple. I was especially intrigued by His healing miracles. I thought that healing might be just about the best of gifts to be given, to be able to cure people of their brokenness and pain. As I learned about Him from reading, I was drawn to Him, and began talking to Him as a friend.

I still do. I highly recommend it!

Above all, I strove to build a real relationship with Jesus by spending time with Him, whether in front of the Blessed Sacrament in adoration, in conversation with Him in prayer, or through little love offerings by way of sacrifices. A favorite author of mine, Matthew Kelly, once wrote that relationships deepen when we spend carefree timelessness with each other. The same is true spiritually. We grow closer to Jesus by spending time with Him.

But He doesn’t always call us to solitude. He can also meet us in Community. On my first night in Youth Group as a high school freshman, one of the seniors called for our attention. He invited us to take our seats and introduced us to the teen leaders who were other seniors like himself. A handful of adults supervised but allowed the teens to do most of the interacting. A young man and a young woman each gave a short talk about how the group had helped them deepen their faith or feel supported through hard times.

Excitement made me grin. I’d been hoping for a place where I could talk among friends about our faith. I wanted to grow closer to Jesus, but not feel like I was weird for that desire. Our Youth Group didn’t only talk. Much of our time was spent in service, putting our faith into practice.

That was when I first learned about the value of belonging to a community with shared beliefs.

Many years later, I was made pastor of my own parish, and I loved my flock dearly. I saw Jesus within them and through our shared worshipping. I felt Him reaching out to them. I felt tenderly toward the man who struck his chest gently each time Jesus’ name was read. Or the woman who sat in the front pew so that her four young children could see well, though tending to them probably meant she didn’t get to pray much herself. Of course, some folks were harder to see Jesus in. I listened to complaints about Mass times, or the music, or what the lectors wore. Some folks disagreed passionately about every topic brought up at the Parish Council meetings. The Church isn’t a collection of perfect people. It’s a community of imperfect folks who struggle together to grow closer to each other and to God.

I loved officiating at weddings, watching the bride and groom gaze into each other’s eyes, though their happiness in being joined as one emphasized how very alone a priest can be. Just when I was feeling especially sorry for myself, some sweet family would invite me to dinner. The children would play their newest pieces on the piano, or sing for me, or ask me to join them in a board game, and I’d drive home that night feeling so thankful. God had reminded me that I wasn’t alone, and that He had me, and all His children, under His wing.

Betty here again.

The early Covid precautions kept us from worshipping with our communities in our churches. It was certainly easier to attend Mass in our living rooms, but something was missing. Don’t you agree? In those first early months, we couldn’t receive Communion, and we couldn’t share community.

Some people say they can stay close to God without community, but Jesus must have thought worshipping together was important, since He instituted the Church. I think He knew we would need each other’s support through the hard times. We need the help of others as we try to raise our children to know Him. We need the witness of others when we profess our vows as a couple, baptize our children, or introduce them to the sacraments. And we certainly need the support of friends when we experience grief from the loss of a loved one. Clergy and lay ministers give us examples of how to lead our lives when they’ve gone through the challenges we face, or when they share a homily that makes us consider new directions. Those same leaders need our participation to perform works of mercy through food drives, soup kitchens, charity collections, outreach to the homeless, or support for our seniors.

We see Jesus in our churches when we study His Word, join in prayer, and reach out to help others.

See Jesus – In Others

       Welcome, or welcome back to these 4-minute posts written to help us grow.  I usually set my fiction writing aside during Lent, but this year, I will illustrate one aspect of “seeing Jesus” with excerpts from my work-in-progress novel, Jesus’ Joy. In the story, we meet a terminally ill, elderly patient who is dictating stories of his life that tell how he came to see Jesus. He begins when he was a young boy visited by the Virgin Mary in a dream.

Aging through Grief to Service

Good Friday seems an appropriate day to discuss grief.

At any stage in our journey of Aging with Grace, we may suffer grief. The loss may be small or huge, sometimes causing us to feel as if all progress in our lives has stopped.

• As young adults we might grieve the necessity of choosing one path over another, or the realization that we might not achieve what we had hoped. We might mourn the loss of a relationship that we thought would be “the one.” In our twenties and thirties, a “quarter-life crisis” for some, we might find that we aren’t as far along a career or relationship path as we thought we might be. We might be lonely and wonder if we will ever find love.
• Grief might hit us in our middle-age years if we miscarry, our parents die, we suffer through an unwanted divorce, or our child falls seriously ill.
• If we are blessed with a long life, we will face many losses. We lose the constant companionship of our children as they grow up and move away. Even grandchildren will eventually be too old to nestle into grandma’s lap. Many of us will lose our spouses and dear friends to death. We will adjust over and over to new health issues, grieving the loss of pain-free joints and sharp vision or hearing or thinking, while possibly relying on a cane or walker or wheelchair. We may need to move from our home, letting go of sentimental attachment to things. We mourn losing our healthy bodies or quick minds. We grieve the way society sees aging as a weakness—or doesn’t see us at all.

In A Woman’s Guide to Healing the Heartbreak of Divorce, Rose Sweet contrasts fear and faith in the midst of grieving:

• Fear – I don’t want to grieve any more. It’s too big. It’s too painful. I’m sick of it. I want to move on. It doesn’t feel good. What will people think if I’m weak with grief? Why can’t I just avoid it? I’ll be fine, really I will, won’t I?
• Faith – I know God has given me tears for a reason. He designed me to grieve so that I could heal. I will not be afraid of the pain, knowing He will give me His grace to get through it. After all, God’s people wept. Jesus wept. I am not alone.

Marilyn Willett Heavilin, wrote Roses in December: Comfort for the Grieving Heart to offer hard-won advice. I’ll quote just a few of her points and recommend her book highly:

• Knowing that God cares doesn’t take the hurt away, but it does make the hurt bearable.
• God has experienced sorrow. He, in fact, was a bereaved parent, because He, too, had a Son who suffered and died. But the exciting news is God’s Son didn’t stay dead. He conquered death for each of us so that we can have the hope of spending eternity with Him in heaven. We also can have the hope of seeing our loved ones again.
• Life is never the same after a loved one dies or you suffer some other major loss. But life can be good again—different—but good.
• Don’t feel you must rush into any big decisions. Do your grief work. Give yourself time. Seek God’s heart and let Him guide you into the unique purpose He has for you.

His purpose for you, in time, will be to serve others. Yet, for now, what do we do with our grief? For a while, grief will keep us from being available to help others; we simply don’t have the energy or the inclination. (This might be the time to accept help from others.) When grief hits us hard, we can’t continue on our own. Grief can freeze us in place and threaten to make us bitter or always angry or hopeless. At these times, we must turn to another kind of Aging with Grace, beyond maintaining a positive attitude. We must let go, trusting and believing that God has a beautiful plan that sometimes comes with pain, yet is still beautiful and always loving. We must ask God for His grace, His loving strength. Then, relying on God, resting in His arms, we go on, and at some point, we begin to recognize His gifts again and know we are loved.

(If grief is prolonged and accompanied by appetite or sleep changes with a lack of enjoyment for what once used to bring joy, consider talking to a professional. Depression is treatable!)

I’m reminded of Jesus on the night before His crucifixion. He gathered His beloved followers for one last supper. He went out into the garden, into nature. He prayed.

When his disciples were grieving after His death, they gathered together and, when the Spirit came and moved them, they went out and proclaimed His Good News. They began to share about their Savior, and they served others.

So, if we follow Jesus’ example, and that of those who knew Him best, we should:

• Spend time in nature and prayer.
• Gather with those who are supportive.
• Share a meal with loved ones.
• Wait on the Spirit to direct us.
• Go out and serve others.

(It strikes me that most of these are parts of our church services, too.)

Serving others, making this tragedy that you mourn work somehow for the good of others, is a wonderful antidote to grief. The author I quoted above, Marilyn Willett Heavilin, lost three sons at three different times. She eventually was able to share, through writing and speaking, about her own experience with grief and how God supported her through His Word, her church community, and her friends.

When our daughter was diagnosed with Tourette Syndrome, my first reaction was strong denial, but eventually I accepted the diagnosis and went on to help two other women start a local support group. When depression struck members of our family, I began to study counseling, and I hope now that by using what I learned, my writing helps people through similar circumstances.

Some people may be called to a new career or volunteer position that strives to keep others from experiencing the grief they’ve known, such as Mothers Against Drunk Driving or Alcoholics Anonymous. Others may simply reach out to help their neighbors or friends through uplifting notes, or a hot dinner. Perhaps our limitations allow us only to pray for others, yet that may be the greatest gift of our lives.

Last week, Necessary Losses taught us, “As we near the end of our lives, we find meaning by leaving the world better for the next generation.” When you serve others, some sadness will remain, yet your struggle will gain meaning, and that can heal your heart.

Let us go forth to love and serve our Lord… and God’s people.

Thank you for sharing your Lenten journey with me. May your (Good Friday) grief eventually lead you to (Easter) joy!

Betty Arrigotti

Aging Through Losses

“… how happy others are because of you.” What a wonderful measure for our lives.

This week we ponder the Losses that life requires, and the growth those losses bring. We look back at earlier stages and can see the wisdom in growing. Let’s hold, in our current stage, to the belief that there is wisdom in letting go.

Those of you who’ve read my posts over the years know I’m very impressed by the wisdom of Judith Viorst. How can we talk about Aging with Grace without looking at the losses aging entails? In her book, Necessary Losses, Viorst discusses the “loves, illusions, dependencies, and impossible expectations that all of us have to give up in order to grow.”

She writes:

In the course of our life we leave and are left and let go of much that we love. Losing is the price we pay for living. It is also the source of much of our growth and gain. Making our way from birth to death, we also have to make our way through the pain of giving up and giving up and giving up some portion of what we cherish.

We have to deal with our necessary losses.

We should understand how these losses are linked to our gains.

There is plenty we must give up in order to grow. For we cannot deeply love anything without becoming vulnerable to loss. And we cannot become separate people, responsible people, connected people, reflective people without some losing and leaving and letting go.

Our life or growth could be seen as a progression of letting go, followed by the gain a new stage brings:

• Childhood’s End – We give up a belief that we can be kept safe and receive instead the freedom and responsibility to make our own choices. We accept reality, and with it accept that we don’t get special treatment, absolute control, compensation for past loss, or perfect companions. We don’t blame our current lives on our childhood.

• The Married State – We learn that no person can meet all our expectations all of the time, nor can some expectations ever be met. Our spouse can’t make us be happy, heal all our hurts from the past, or fill all our needs. Those unfulfilled expectations are necessary losses in order to truly love our less-than-perfect spouses.

• Letting Children Go – In parenting we fear our imperfect love will harm our children, or we will fail to keep them safe. Facing our fallibility as parents is another of our necessary losses. We must let our children become steadily more independent and let go of them and our dreams for them.

• The Loss of Youth – Time will repeatedly force us to relinquish our self-image and move on. We leave youth and health behind. We lose abilities and strengths. We let go of dreams as we realize we’ll never accomplish them all. Yet we gain experience, inner depth, acceptance of others, patience, and self-control. We move from body preoccupation to body transcendence. We move from identifying ourselves by what we do or who we parent to who we are. We can become an integrated whole, accepting our weaknesses along with our strengths.

• The Loss of our Loved Ones – Mourning is the process of adapting to the losses in our lives. We travel through and revisit stages of numbness, denial, intense emotional pain, bargaining, anger, guilt, and idealizing whom or what we lost. But as we find our way through the mourning and learn to let go of our pain, we can come to acceptance. (We will take a closer look at grief next week.)

• We live enriched lives, knowing that each day is vital. We make the most of the present to find a way to leave a legacy to the world for the future.

“Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him.” Philippians 3:8-9

Being alive means we will suffer loss. But the loss will open us to new possibilities. Jesus lost his life, but by doing so, regained for us the Kingdom of God. He rose to new life so that we will, too. In that life, there will be no loss.

Perhaps opening our hands to let go allows us to receive new gifts.

Perhaps this process of letting go, if done well, makes room for God.

Blessings on your week!

Betty Arrigotti

Aging with Health and Limitations

In order to improve our chances of aging with health, Andrew Weil, M.D., in his book. Healthy Aging: A Lifelong Guide to Your Well-being offers 12 recommendations:

1. Eat an anti-inflammatory diet.
2. Use dietary supplements wisely to support the body’s defenses and natural healing power.
3. Use preventative medicine intelligently: know your risks of age-related disease, get appropriate diagnostic and screening tests and immunizations, and treat problems (like elevated blood pressure and cholesterol) in their early stages.
4. Get regular physical activity throughout life.
5. Get adequate rest and sleep.
6. Learn and practice methods of stress protection.
7. Exercise your mind as well as your body.
8. Maintain social and intellectual connections as you go through life.
9. Be flexible in mind and body: learn to adapt to losses and let go of behaviors no longer appropriate for your age.
10. Think about and try to discover for yourself the benefits of aging.
11. Do not deny the reality of aging or put energy into trying to stop it. Use the experience of aging as a stimulus for spiritual awakening and growth.
12. Keep an ongoing record of the lessons you learn, the wisdom you gain, and the values you hold. At critical points in your life, read this over, add to it, revise it, and share it with people you care about.

I know I have some room for improvement as I read his recommendations. Unfortunately, even with the best of efforts, as we age, we will come to know limitations to our health and abilities, and those limitations likely will grow with time. In her book, The Gift of Years: Growing Older Gracefully, Joan Chittister writes:

“Limitations—those physical boundaries that the old reach before the rest of the world—are only that, elders show us. They are boundaries, not barriers. They limit us—they take time and energy, yes—but they do not stop us unless we decide to be stopped. In fact, limitations in one area simply make us develop in another. If your legs are weak, then getting in and out of a wheelchair will only make your arms stronger. If your hearing is impaired, you will begin to write more letters. Limitations, at any age and every age, call out something in us that we never considered before.”

“They also alert us to the needs of others. It takes limitations to be sensitive to their needs.”

” Being limited gives us an opportunity to learn both humility and patience. We aren’t as arrogant anymore as we used to be. But we’re more tenacious than ever.”

“Limitations invite others to get involved as well. We create community out of the needs of the others and the gifts we can bring to them while they, in turn, enrich us.”

“When we define ourselves only by our limitations, we fail to see to what greater things those limitations are calling us for.”

“A blessing of these years is that we know at last what really matters, and the world is waiting to hear it, if only we will make the effort and don’t give in to our limitations.“

More excerpts from Chittister about not giving in to our limitations:

“Generativity—the act of giving ourselves to the needs of the rest of the world—is the single most important function of old age. For example, in [a Harvard study] it was widening their social circle as life went on that was the key factor in the achievement of successful aging, not money, not education, not family.”

“But this ‘widening’ was not simply the creation of social contacts, as important as that is. Instead, these individuals created social contacts by doing more than that—they became actively involved in one or more of the great social activities of life, ‘helping someone else.‘”

“Most important of all, perhaps, is that old age is the only age when we can possibly be so important to the world at large because it is the first time in life when we ourselves are free enough to give much thought to a world broader than our own. We are ready now to stretch ourselves beyond ourselves for the sake of all the others to whom we are leaving this world.”

“A blessing of these years is the freedom to reach out to others, to do everything we can with everything in life that we have managed to develop all these years in both soul and mind for the sake of the rest of the human race.”

We owe it to the world to live our lives trying to be as healthy as we can, in order to help others around us and the generations to come.

Blessings on your remaining weeks of Lent!

Betty Arrigotti

Aging with Forgiveness

“Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.”

Whenever we look back on our lives, and forward to how we’d like them to grow, we are likely to realize we need to forgive in order to continue to age gracefully. Maybe we need to let go of a past hurt. Maybe we need to forgive ourselves… or maybe God. No one who is holding a grudge or heavy guilt will age with grace.

First, we will look at forgiving others, then below consider how to forgive ourselves.

In the book, Everyone Needs to Forgive Somebody, Allen Hunt offers suggestions to help us discover whom we need to forgive and seven steps to assist in our journey of forgiveness.

1. Remember your own need for forgiveness.
2. Pick one thing you know you ought to forgive.
3. Ask God to saturate you with his grace to help you forgive.
4. If possible, engage the offender in direct, open, honest communication. Don’t accuse, focus on how you feel. Say, “I forgive you.” (Do this in your imagination if the person isn’t available.)
5. Follow your words with some act of reconciliation—perhaps a hug, handshake, or meal together.
6. To prevent the same hurts from occurring again, keep your lines of communication open, with clear, healthy boundaries and guidelines for your relationship.
7. Learn to forgive the small things—with friends, family, or coworkers. Be a person of grace. Don’t dwell on the hurts. Recognize you are still prone to mistakes as you become the-best-version-of-yourself, just as others are.

Forgiving others is a process, not usually a one-time decision. We will possibly fail, but then can try again. Here are a few practices that help me personally:

• Acknowledge to yourself the anger and hurt you feel. If possible, voice it calmly right away to the person who hurt you.
• Don’t continue to “lick the wound.” Dogs make their sores larger by doing this, and so do we when we dwell or obsess on them. Practice “thought stopping” when you find yourself doing this and instead—
• Pray for the person who hurt you. Place them in God’s care. Remind yourself you want to be a forgiver.

Letting Go of Guilt – Forgiving Ourselves

Fr. Peter Siamoo, a priest from Tanzania who studied and worked here in Portland, wrote a book called Restore Your Inner Peace: Personal Healing from Within. In Fr. Peter’s work as a counselor in hospitals and prisons, he found the inability to forgive oneself to be both prevalent and destructive. Perhaps we too have trouble letting go of our mistakes, weaknesses, and past sinfulness. Don’t we, in this study of Aging with Grace, also need to forgive ourselves?

He recommends steps:

1. Acknowledge what you’ve done.
2. Talk about it with a safe person, possibly a good friend, minister, or therapist.
3. Learn from it in order to grow and not repeat the mistake.
4. Make peace with it, not to justify the mistake but to become a wounded healer.
5. Ask for and accept forgiveness from God, who is loving and who readily forgives our transgressions when we sincerely ask for it.
6. Forgive yourself, remembering to love your neighbor as (well as) yourself.

Forgiving ourselves after a mistake is:

• An act of appreciation for God’s love and forgiveness.
• Self-love that restores our inner freedom and peace.
• A choice we make to acknowledge and accept God’s mercy and choose to treat ourselves better than what we think we deserve.
• Worth doing because we deserve a better life than carrying guilt around.
• A way of imitating God who has forgiven us, and
• Important to our being happy.
• Make amends to repair the damage and restore the relationship.

From this week on, let’s love ourselves enough to forgive ourselves… and others!

Blessings on your Lent! We’ve passed halfway!

Aging Without Fear

Max Lucado has published a little booklet called, “Imagine Your Life Without Fear.”

Of course, fear is good if it steers us away from danger. But more often, it can freeze us into inaction, keep us from helping others, or lead us to strike out in what we think is self-defense. Perhaps most of us live our lives marked with fear. The “what ifs” eat away at our peace and are another barrier to living with grace and so, aging with grace.

For some years now, I have been trying to remind myself of the Bible verse, “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. (Jeremiah 29:11) I even titled my first published book, “Hope and a Future.” God promises us that our future will be bright, and He will be with us. Still, we fear.

Fear takes on many appearances as we pass through life’s stages.

• Fear of loneliness: Will I find someone who will love me for my lifetime?
• Fear for our children: Are they safe? Are they loving and feeling loved?
• Fear for our livelihood: Will I be able to get/keep a job? Will I be able to provide for those who depend on me? Will my money last through my retirement?
• Fear of aging: Will I become too frail? Will I lose my memory? Will I cause my family too much anguish?
• Fear of dying: Will there be great pain? Will I be well-remembered? Will I go to heaven?

Yet, God commanded Joshua as he led his people across the Jordan to the promised land (and He continues to command us): “Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.” (Joshua 1:9)

Max Lucado reminds us, Jesus tells us again and again not to fear:

• When we worry that we aren’t worth God’s love: “So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows”. (Matt. 10:31)
• When we worry about finances: “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes?” (Matt. 6:25)
• When we fear God: “But Jesus immediately said to them: ‘Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.’” (Matt 14:27)
• When our fear freezes us: “But Jesus came and touched them. ‘Get up,’ he said. ‘Don’t be afraid.’” (Matt. 17:7)
• When our fear makes us overuse substances to find calm: “For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline.” (2 Tim 1:7)
• When we fear global turmoil: “You will hear of wars and rumors of wars, but see to it that you are not alarmed. Such things must happen, but the end is still to come”. (Matt 24:6)
• When we fear death or the afterlife: “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3:16)

(All Bible quotes from the New International Version)

Max Lucado invites us to imagine one day with absolutely no fear. What courageous step would we take?

Once, 16 years ago, a priest asked our congregation to ponder what we would do if we had no fear. What do we suspect we should be doing, but fear keeps us from starting? My answer was to begin to write these Lenten emails. If I had no fear, I might offer some form of this in person. I haven’t made it that far, yet, but we take small steps forward and God honors our effort. What would you do if fear didn’t keep you from acting?

Another great book title was, “Feel the Fear and Do it Anyway!” by Susan Jeffers. We won’t get rid of all fear, but we can step out bravely anyway, trusting that God is at our side. Let’s face down our fears and watch them decrease as we act with courage.

She tells us five truths to help us combat those fears:

1. Fear will always be present if we continue to grow.
2. The only way to get rid of the fear of doing something is to go out and do it.
3. The only way to feel better about ourselves is to… go out and do it.
4. Not only are we going to experience fear whenever we are on unfamiliar territory, but so is everyone else!
5. Pushing through fear is less frightening than living with the underlying fear that comes from a feeling of helplessness.

St. Francis de Sales said: “The same Everlasting Father who cares for you today will take care of you tomorrow and every day of your life. Either He will shield you from suffering, or He will give you unfailing strength to bear it. Be at peace then and put aside all anxious thoughts.” Once we believe this, we can say, “I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.” (Philippians 4:13)

If this post on fear has encouraged you, read more ways to fight fear by clicking on “Fear” in the right-hand column under 4 Minutes 4 Growth.

May God bless your week.

Betty Arrigotti

Author of Christian Love Stories, available at Amazon:

• Hope and a Future (Marriage)
• Where Hope Leads (Pre-Marriage)
• When the Vow Breaks (Family secrets)
• Their Only Hope (Standing up to evil)
• Miriam’s Joy! (Virgin Mary visits us to heal)
• Joseph’s Joy, The Family Man (St. Joseph visits to help families)

I’m in a New Stage, now what? Where do I go from here?

Barbara Lee recommends we pray to discern our path and is fond of St. Ignatian spirituality. She recommends his Examen as a way to look back at a day, or any period of time, to enhance our prayer about decision making:

In the book, God Isn’t Finished with Me Yet: Discovering the Spiritual Graces of Later Life, author Barbara Lee looks at ways to figure out what our next path should be when our nest is empty, or we’ve retired from work, or are simply feeling there must be more for us still to do. She wrote the book at 80, after she had retired from her career as a lawyer and judge in order to volunteer to help immigrants learn English. She came to this stage in her life after much discernment of Spirit and offers suggestions to those seekers like herself.

1. Focus on the presence of God, then give thanks.
2. Ask for the light of the Spirit, to be aware of all the ways God is at work our lives.
3. Review the day (or period of time), looking not only for our sins and failings but also for where we have heard the promptings of the Spirit and how we have responded.
4. Ask pardon for the ways in which we have failed to respond to grace.
5. Finally, ask for the grace not merely to amend our faults but also to look forward to the future with hope. Say the Lord’s Prayer.

Decisions can be categorized as “Whether” decisions or “How” decisions. The Whether decisions – like whether to retire, downsize, or move, require that we:

1. Define the question.
2. Strive to be as detached as possible without assuming the result we prefer.
3. Ask God to move our will toward what pleases Him and makes us a better Christian.
4. List and rationally consider the advantages and disadvantages. Decide based on what seems most reasonable.
5. Bring the decision to prayer and ask God “to receive and confirm it.”

The How decisions—like how to treat an illness, care for an invalid, respond to diminished capacity, deal with our adult children, spend free time, or approach a spiritual journey as its length diminishes—can be addressed by praying with scripture (looking for words that resonate in your soul, or imagining yourself in the biblical scene to sense impressions invoked by the scene.)

With either type of decision making, we should watch for signs of spiritual desolation. Does the decision cause us anxiety, fear, and reluctance to pray? It is important, instead, to make decisions that bring us spiritual consolation, imparting peace, joy, hope, faith, and loving charity. If decision making does not come easily, she recommends keeping a spiritual journal or finding a good spiritual director.

On downsizing, the author recommends St. Ignatius’ advice on property: we should “desire to keep it or dispose of it solely according to what God our Lord will move [our] will to choose,” and we should not “desire or feel . . . strongly attached to have wealth rather than poverty.” Lee says, “We may not all have the grace to embrace the Ignatian ideal of a genuine preference for poverty, but we may still find greater clarity in distinguishing what we really need for a well-balanced life.” She also reminds us to provide for the poor and do other good works to focus on social justice and service. Lee would like us to consider the diminishment of ability as we age to be a type of poverty and a time in our lives when we can “acknowledge our total dependence on God.”

She recommends we undertake a ministry of prayer. She quotes Fr. Thomas Clarke, SJ:

If intercession, then, is the name of the game, I believe that the group best fitted to lead it is the world’s elders. We qualify for the role not through our wisdom or even through our prophetic gifts, if we have them, but through our special brand of poverty. In generational terms, it is we who are the anawim—the poor—through whom God works wonders. However reduced in physical, mental, emotional powers, and whether we are still “active” or “retired,” we can model for all that intercessory offering of “prayers, works, joys and sufferings” through which the world is graced.

The author recommends, as a kindness to our families, preplanning for our future, including choosing a health-care proxy and signing a “living will” for medical decisions, arranging for our funeral and burial, and estate planning. But also, we should leave a spiritual legacy. Consider writing about your spiritual journey or telling your faith stories to family and friends.

Finally, we need to see death as a transition to eternal life. “Instead of looking back toward what has been lost or given up, we can ask for the grace to look forward with hope to life eternal, remembering the promise of Jesus: ‘I will see you again and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy away from you.’” (John 16:22)

Lee commends the Suscipe prayer:

Take, Lord, and receive all my liberty, my memory, my understanding, and all my will—all that I have and possess. You, Lord have given all that to me. I now give it back to you, O Lord. All of it is yours. Dispose of it according to your will. Give me your love and your grace, for that is enough for me.

May God bless your week.

Betty Arrigotti

Aging with Grace

Welcome to these 4-minute posts to explore an area of growth. This year, we look at Aging with Grace.

What does it mean to age gracefully? The word “graceful” might make men uncomfortable with an attribute usually used to define women, like a dancer with graceful, elegant moves. Rather, let’s consider the aspect of grace as a quality of goodwill and maturity. We need grace at whatever stage in life we currently struggle.

Can you think of someone who seems to have accomplished growing older in an admirable way? If you are lucky, perhaps a grandparent or parent has given you an example you’d like to emulate.

This week’s news has given us all an example. Past President Jimmy Carter, as of this writing, has entered Hospice care at his home. At 98, he is an example of a person who has aged with grace and integrity. After serving his country as president—easily seen as the peak of a career—he didn’t rest on his laurels and retire into obscurity. He continued to serve others: 40 years as a Sunday School teacher, 39+ years working with Habitat for Humanity, 70+ years as a beloved spouse, then a devoted father and patriarch. He even won a Nobel Peace Prize for his advocacy of democracy, public health, and human rights! In 2015, after fighting cancer, he said with a smile, “I am perfectly at ease with whatever comes.”

Such an attitude certainly exhibits aging with grace. We know the quality when we see it, but can we define it? It might mean different things to different people, but our examples probably have much in common. We imagine a person of good humor and integrity, who is willing to use what they’ve learned to improve the lives of others. We certainly recognize the opposite of aging with grace when we meet people who are bitter, irritable, and mindful only of themselves.

I don’t intend these emails to focus only on our oldest generation. Aging with grace begins early in life, and how we manage our early stages sets us on a road towards grace or away from it. In the book, Healing the Eight Stages of Life, authors Matthew Linn, Dennis Linn, and Sheila Fabricant discuss Erik Erikson’s theory that each stage of our lives brings a challenge to either achieve and grow, or stagnate.

According to Erikson’s stages of psychosocial development:

• From age 0-1.5 we learn trust over mistrust and, if successful, acquire the value of hope.
• From age 1.5-3, we learn autonomy over shame and, if successful, acquire the value of will.
• From age 3-5, we learn initiative over guilt and, if successful, acquire the value of purpose.
• From age 5-12, we learn industry over inferiority and, if successful, acquire the value of competency.
• From age 12-18, we learn identity over role confusion and, if successful, acquire the value of fidelity.
• From age 18-40, we learn intimacy over isolation and, if successful, acquire the value of love. (Intimacy involves close, loving relationships.)
• From age 40-65 we learn generativity over stagnation and, if successful, acquire the value of care. (Generativity is the propensity and willingness to engage in acts that promote the wellbeing of younger generations.)
• From age 65 on, we learn ego integrity over despair and, if successful, acquire the value of wisdom. (Integrity as fully accepting oneself and coming to terms with death.)

The authors hold that we don’t necessarily move to new stages sequentially, rather the stages live on in us, making it possible to go back and heal the wounds of younger times and learn the lessons and skills we missed along the way. If we successfully learned the skill that a stage was meant to teach us, we will progress towards a happier life. If not, we can go back and learn now what we missed before. There is hope, if we are willing to let go of our woundedness and use our pain to learn in order to help others.

As an example, if we didn’t learn trust at the age when it would have been healthiest, perhaps we needed distrust to help us survive. Yet now, as adults, we can allow the hurt to heal and learn to trust when it is appropriate. If our family of origin wasn’t loving, the Dalai Lama says, “Anyone who loves you is your parent.” God wants us to be whole and healthy. Inviting Him into our injuries, we find He loves us in our woundedness and wants to heal our pain.

It is easy for us to remember our painful experiences. The authors invite us instead to think back over our lives recalling our happiest moments. Bask in those feelings of joy, from youngest childhood memories to a blessing you received yesterday. That joy can fill you today and give you hope towards tomorrow.

May God bless your week.

Betty Arrigotti

Author of Christian Love Stories, available at Amazon:

• Hope and a Future (Marriage)
• Where Hope Leads (Pre-Marriage)
• When the Vow Breaks (Family secrets)
• Their Only Hope (Standing up to evil)
• Miriam’s Joy! (Virgin Mary visits us to heal)
• Joseph’s Joy, The Family Man (St. Joseph visits to help families)

The Gift of Holy Saturday

Have you ever asked yourself what Holy Saturday is all about? We know the gift of Good Friday – that Jesus suffered and died for us so that we can experience forgiveness now and joy with Him in Heaven. And we understand the gift of Easter – that Jesus rose from the dead, and in so doing, conquered death’s hold over us so that we might rise again, too.

So, what is the gift of Holy Saturday?

Imagine what the disciples must have felt like on Saturday. Surely on Friday they were numb and couldn’t believe what had happened. But Saturday came and they had to admit Jesus had died. All their hopes for a better life must have died with Him. Jesus—who was so charismatic, so good, so filled with potential, who was going to lead them into a new kingdom—had agonized and then breathed His last on the cross.

Think of the women who followed Him and hadn’t been able to embalm His body on Friday. Now on Saturday they were not allowed to do so because of the Sabbath. So, they were left with no way to show Him their devotion, no opportunity to pay tribute to His body. No work to distract themselves from their loss.

I’ve been there, haven’t you? When all your hopes have been destroyed and you realize your dreams will not be realized. Perhaps when someone you love has died? It takes time to process your loss. Your mind doesn’t want to accept the pain and pushes it away in denial. We want to blame someone, and often God takes the brunt of our anger. We are where Lazarus’ sister was when she said, “Lord, if you had been here our brother wouldn’t have died!” We are where Jesus was when He said, “Father, why have You abandoned me?”

Yet, at some point in your Holy Saturday experience, you realize a phase of your life is over, and you must bear the loss and go on.

I think the gift of Holy Saturday is that even when we are at our lowest, and everything seems hopeless, and even when we can’t feel God is near, He is. When we are in that dark pit, alone and desolate and frightened, He is there. When we are “going through Hell,” we can know the Son of God has been there, too. There is no depth we can sink to, where He hasn’t been.

Jesus taught us how to make it through the Holy Saturday loss when, though He felt abandoned, He said, “Father, into your hands I commend my Spirit.” He showed us God still exists, even when we can’t feel Him, and we can trust and place ourselves in His hands.

Yes, He could have risen on Saturday morning. Yes, He could give us everything we want right when we want it. But then we wouldn’t be given the gift of being able to say, “God, I can’t feel You here. I can’t understand what has happened. I’d give anything to change it, and I don’t know why You allowed it. Still, I believe in You. I know, even though it doesn’t seem like it right now, You love me. And I know you are all powerful. So even if I can’t have what I want, I trust You that you know what I need, and You want to shower me with goodness.”

It takes time to get to the point of being able to say this and mean it, all while enduring intense pain. But that’s the gift of Saturday, Time. And because we now know that Jesus did rise and our God isn’t dead, the gift of Saturday is Hope. Because of that Saturday and what happened next, we now can trust that a Sunday will come and with it, the resurrection of all that is good.

Now as Lent draws to an end and we prepare to celebrate Easter, this celebration of new life, let’s resolve to choose life.

Choose gratitude, rather than complaints.

Choose simplicity over materialism and complexity.

Choose relaxation and renewal over busyness.

Choose trust, rather than insecurity.

Choose service, rather than meaningless pursuits.

Choose life!

Choose love!

May all your Saturdays of Despair be followed by Sundays of Life! And may your choices lead you to Joy!