Unfounded fear

            I wonder why we fear people who are different?

          Perhaps due to years of stranger danger caution from our parents. Maybe because our news media profit when they makes us worry. Or is it a survival instinct? I hope it isn’t only me, but I suspect it’s universal. I remember reading about a woman who travelled the world and invariably was welcomed but told that the people in the next town or across the border were less hospitable and she shouldn’t trust them.

            Whatever the reason, I’ve been afraid of visiting China for the 10 years my husband has been travelling there on business. Last month his itinerary was ideal for me to accompany him; I’d be able to spend time in several cities, including Beijing. He raised the incentive by arranging for us to visit the Terra Cotta Warriors that had intrigued me since I first read about them. I waivered in my reluctance.

            I reminded myself I experienced the same hesitance to visit Israel three years ago. Preparing for that trip, I imagined car bombs and terrorists waiting around every corner. Yet even when I joined a 4-person tour to Bethlehem, not realizing Bethlehem is in Palestinian territory, I was treated there with great welcome and hospitality.

            But China is a communist country. I’m a child of the Cold War and I remember it being big news when then-President Nixon travelled to China, an unheard of destination. I feared visiting a country that wasn’t known for respecting individual rights.

            Yet, my travel in Israel remains one of the highlights of my life and I had nearly let my fears keep me from that experience.

            I agreed to visit China, but I worried.

            So what did I experience? Without exception, everyone treated me with courtesy and respect. Men asked if they could take a picture of me with their wives. Women asked if I’d pose with their children. Teenagers stood to give me their seat on a subway, as they did for anyone my age or older. Tour guides politely asked me about my opinion of Obama, or which party I belonged to. Some shared their own worry that without a strong Russia, the USA’s dominance would endanger world balance.

            I can’t speak about China’s leaders or its politics. I only know that the everyday people are very much like our everyday people. They wait with smiles and hugs for their children to burst out of the building on the first day of school. They work hard to improve their families’ lives. They dance in the park when they hear music that suits them. They photograph what is unusual or beautiful. They carry iPods and cell phones and are frustrated by traffic jams and delayed flights. Both the church I attended and an acrobat show were full.

            Yes, their culture differs from ours, but in ways that seems minor, like the softness of voices, the use of parasols, the prevalence of bicycles, the acceptance of population density, or the challenge of living in a country of single-child families.

            I never felt endangered while in China (other than riding in a taxi) even when lost. My qualms were unfounded and I feel foolish to have waited so long to accept my good husband’s invitation to share his experience. I’ve been blessed once again by facing my fear. When will I learn to trust in God and never let fear direct my life?

Parental Example

            Within a month’s time, my husband and I both celebrated the lives of one of our parents. My father-in-law passed away after too short a struggle with cancer. My husband took on the responsibility for planning the funeral, including a heart-felt eulogy that recounted what a good father he had been. My brother spoke next as a representative of the countless young men that Dad influenced in his years of work with Scouts, as well as the numerous young men he taught about life while he taught them to be his work assistants. The priest and many of the frequent visitors to Dad’s bedside during his last few weeks talked about his years of enthusiastic volunteering with St. Vincent de Paul. Others benefited from his decade of hospital service where he greeted patients, helped direct them to the right department, and retrieved the wheel chairs that travelled the campus. Nearly everyone mentioned his “thumbs up” attitude, his commitment to service, and his strong work ethic.

            One month later, my entire family gathered for the first time in thirty years in Anaconda, Montana. Ours was a joyful reunion to celebrate my mother’s 80^th birthday. I had spent a few days with her the month before and experienced her typical activities. I tagged along as she attended Mass and the rosary daily, delivered communion and a Word Service to the nursing home, helped organize and attended a deacon ordination and a May crowning, and the weekly Adoration. I wasn’t there for one of the funerals–she averages two a week–which she organizes and plans with the bereaved families. But I accompanied her on her visits to friends: morning coffee here, a sandwich there, dropping in to check on one or pouring a cup of tea for another. Everywhere we went, people told me how wonderful my mother is and what a spirit she has for service. Our family celebration of her birthday had to include this “other family” of hers, so we hosted a tea with light refreshments in the church hall and more than 200 people attended!

            Two parents, both busier in their “relaxation years” than I am in my everyday life. Both making their lives meaningful by working for others. Both surrounded by people who love them for the service they give. Their lives exemplify one way to live well.

            They also both invite me to reevaluate my life. I am a home body who needs much time alone to process my thoughts and maintain my calm. The areas I’ve chosen to serve in are primarily solitary by choice. I write, I crochet prayer shawls, I pray for my family, friends, church, and the world. Most of my personal service is to my family–whether babysitting,  house cleaning, or lending a caring ear.  I host extended family gatherings and maintain connections. I see myself as an enabler to others in their service; I keep the household functioning while family members serve the world through their particular gifts. I’ve raised children with hearts more open than mine.

            I’d like that to be enough. I’d like to stay in my comfort zone. I want to excuse myself as an introvert who is drained by contact with people rather than energized. Yet, I know my mother and my father-in-law both were introverts who grew beyond their natural inclination and became extraverted. My husband opened his eulogy by describing his dad as shy and quiet and, as expected, the funeral attendees laughed. No one who knew him for the last 40 years would have described him that way. Yet leadership classes and becoming a Scout master drew him beyond his shyness.

            Some psychologists define maturing as growing in our weak areas until we are balanced. An introvert becomes comfortable with people. An extrovert becomes comfortable with contemplation.

            I have my own weaknesses to overcome, which may be different than the ones our parents grew through. I also have my unique call to follow and my unique strengths to place in God’s service. I hope my writing reaches out to people in need and offers help. I hope my service to my family makes a difference in the world.

            We can’t say one way of life is the only way to live well. I wouldn’t expect my children to live exactly as I have, or to serve the ways I serve. Maybe that is part of our challenge, to find our unique way to make this life meaningful. If there were only one way, we wouldn’t need to have a personal relationship with God to figure things out. We’d simply follow the defined steps. But given the distinctive nature each of us experiences–strengths and weaknesses, gifts and challenges–we are invited to constant conversation with God to get it right. If God is a parent anything like us (and He says He is) He longs to share our lives, our thoughts, and our decisions.

       In Mere Christianity, CS Lewis quotes George MacDonald, “God is easy to please, hard to satisfy.” Any effort we make to follow His path pleases Him, but He is never satisfied. He calls us to continue to grow more like Him throughout our lives.

      Sometimes I think I’m doing ok in my life choices. But then the lives of my mother and my father-in-law, and the life of Christ, challenge me to resist complacency.

Choose life!

You’ve made it to the final entry of Lent in our search for Joy!

One last author that I recommend you consider: Matthew Kelly is a 30-year-old Catholic who travels the world speaking to young and old about God’s dream for each of us: that we become the best version of ourselves.

He says we are physical, emotional, intellectual, and spiritual beings and that life is all about love. To be truly happy we must pay attention to our needs in these four areas:

• Physical – Eat healthy foods, sleep enough, and exercise regularly.
• Emotional – Focus on our relationships. Every relationship will blossom if we regularly spend carefree timelessness with the other, whether spouse, friend, or children. With time spent as if on vacation, we will move into the higher levels of intimacy like sharing our hopes and dreams, our fears and needs, and our efforts to become the best version of ourselves.
• Intellectual – For ten minutes every day, read a book that challenges you to grow.
• Spiritual – Our spirits need solitude, scripture, silence, and the sacraments. Matthew recommends we attend to Mass, asking God to show us just one way we can become better versions of ourselves this week. Somewhere in the readings, music, prayers, homily, or silence, we will be given that one message.

Matthew insists we all know deep down what will make us happy and better people. Yet, we don’t do what we know will make us happier and healthier. Why?

Because we are too busy.

What are we too busy doing? Working to attain things that we want, thinking they will make us happier. Instead, we should do the things he lists above, the things we need.

Things that really will make us happier.

He recommends we slow down enough to determine every decision by whether it will help us be better versions of ourselves. What we own does not matter. What matters is how we love – ourselves, the people in our lives, and our God.

When my daughters were in grade school we celebrated the approach of Easter with a poster that began with a caterpillar and a seed. Over the weeks of Lent the caterpillar grew through stages of development until it was a butterfly. Likewise the seed sprouted two leaves, a stem, a bud, and eventually flowered.

Now as Lent draws to an end and we prepare to celebrate Easter, the 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 busy-ness.
• Choose trust, rather than insecurity.
• Choose service, rather than meaningless pursuits.
• Choose life!
• Choose love!

 And may your choices lead you to Joy!

 Happy Easter!

 Betty Arrigotti

I call heaven and earth to witness against you today, that I have set before you life and death, the blessing and the curse. So choose life in order that you may live, you and your descendants,   by loving the LORD your God, by obeying His voice, and by holding fast to Him. Deuteronomy 30:19-20

For more information, including books and cds see www.matthewkelly.org