Dear Michael,
I really enjoyed reading the beginning of "Christian Science Practice" with you last night (one of my favorite chapters in Mary Baker Eddy's Science and Health with key to the Scriptures). As we read, I was reminded me of one the most wonderful healings I've ever witnessed. It occurred when I was a senior counselor at Cedars Camps--I think it was the summer that we were there together (when we baked cookies on our day off, and you embarrassed me by singing "I just met a girl named Maria" in the shower). I was in charge of the Bobolink cabin--home to energetic nine-year olds. One Sunday afternoon, a little girl was dropped off by her parents with a long list of things they didn't think she would be able to do--ride horses, play running games, sleep on the top bunk. Casey struggled with asthma, and it seemed like the next two weeks were indeed going to be very trying for her--breathing was difficult and getting her to sleep that first night took time, prayer and lots of hymn singing.
The next morning we went to visit Marjorie at PAL house. (PAL stands for "Practitioner's Are Loving.") Wasn't it wonderful to have a Christian Science practitioner on site to help pray with campers and counselors when needed! Marjorie agreed to pray for Casey and referred me to Science and Health where it says, "The way to extract error from mortal mind is to pour in truth through flood-tides of Love." And, "The tender word and Christian encouragement of an invalid, pitiful patience with his fears and the removal of them, are better than hecatombs of gushing theories, stereotyped borrowed speeches, and the doling of arguments, which are but so many parodies on legitimate Christian Science, aflame with divine Love." (We read this second quote last night.) With her prayers, Marjorie would be pouring in the truth--affirming Casey's unlimited abilities as God's daughter. My job was to help with the "flood-tides of love" and "pitiful patience" with Casey's many many fears.
All the counselors and even Casey's cabin mates helped pour in the love. Her friends so naturally and patiently encouraged her to participate in camp activities. Horseback riding seemed to be Casey's biggest fear. I wondered if we'd ever get her to the corral. She simply refused to even consider getting on a horse. Looking forward to some quiet time alone in the cabin, I asked "What do we do now God?" The idea came to use my period off to go horseback riding with Casey--a shower and nap could wait. Casey agreed to give it a try; and the ride was a turing point in her experience. Nights got easier, and she actively participated in games, dances, and campouts. At the end of the session, Casey rode solo in the horse show, was sleeping soundly on the top bunk, and all traces of asthma were completely gone--washed away by prayer and those sparkling, purifying "flood-tides of Love."
So, dear husband, as we pack this week for our upcoming camp adventures, I want to remember to put "pitiful patience" and "flood-tides of Love" on top of the long underwear, water bottles, and sleeping bags--on top and ready to pull out and put to immediate, moment by moment use. And, this time around, it's OK by me if you sing in the shower.
I love you! Hugs and kisses,
Maria
Friday, June 29, 2007
Friday, June 22, 2007
Compassion on My Humanity
Dear Kate,
Tonight my life was written in the cards, the cards in Apples to Apples Junior that is. We sometimes pretend that the cards we win in this game describe us. While my family was gathering cards praising them as amazing, talented, bright, entertaining and gentle, my hand was "fearful, sneaky, frail, plain and gigantic" (which of course I took to mean my dress size). In many ways, the last few weeks have been tough, and the cards seemed to say it all. However, as we continued playing and laughing, I warmed up to the game, and the cards began to even out. One of my last cards was "playful" --a fitting affirmation of the happy togetherness we were all enjoying.
Summer is always interesting in our home as we get used to all being under the same roof for long stretches of time, jostling play dates, trying to complete final projects at work, cleaning up from Heidi's yummy but messy cooking spurts (it's not all her fault--our kitchen is tiny), and trying to get organized for camp--the four weeks this summer that hold such promise of adventure, joy and unselfed love. For awhile I was feeling guilty because I was so hungry for a break. Then I remembered that as much as I've loved my new job, it is the first time in over 14 years that I've worked full-time. I used to believe that I was a good multitasker, but there were times at work this year when I felt so disorganized; yet it occured to me yesterday that in previous jobs my tasks were usually related (such as pieces of the search process when I worked in Human Resources), but this year my projects have been very diverse and were often done in brand new ways for the school (not just me)--like adopting an electronic box office and creating a campus-wide master calendar in Outlook.
Your blog today about camp, Stone River Reflections: Feels Like Home to Me, made me cry. The best self you describe finding each summer seems to be playing hide and seek with me these days. Sometimes the search for it has been exasperating, but I haven't given up. As I read your blog, I was wrapping up another day at work with projects I'd expected to finish still incomplete. That best self was once again eluding me. I sooo hoped that I too would find it in an enduring way at camp. Perhaps this hope, this simple desire, truly was a prayer. I soon felt God telling me, "You've really done OK this year. Don't hold the last few weeks against yourself. You did find that best self at camp last summer, and for the most part kept it at the forefront all year. There have even been some brights spots in the last few weeks. Hang in there; I'll help you. Camp is coming soon. Have compassion on your humanity."
"Have compassion on your humanity" is an idea I came across many years ago; it might have even been in something you wrote. I've been so grateful for those words of wisdom. Feeling compassion for myself has helped me keep going the past few days--helped me move from "fearful" to "playful." This compassion has been a moment to moment choice to stop seeing shortcomings and instead to recognize and celebrate all the little ways God does express himself as Maria. It's clearly an ongoing adventure.
So, save a seat for me and my best self by the lake! We'll see you in a few weeks!
Hugs and love,
Maria
Tonight my life was written in the cards, the cards in Apples to Apples Junior that is. We sometimes pretend that the cards we win in this game describe us. While my family was gathering cards praising them as amazing, talented, bright, entertaining and gentle, my hand was "fearful, sneaky, frail, plain and gigantic" (which of course I took to mean my dress size). In many ways, the last few weeks have been tough, and the cards seemed to say it all. However, as we continued playing and laughing, I warmed up to the game, and the cards began to even out. One of my last cards was "playful" --a fitting affirmation of the happy togetherness we were all enjoying.
Summer is always interesting in our home as we get used to all being under the same roof for long stretches of time, jostling play dates, trying to complete final projects at work, cleaning up from Heidi's yummy but messy cooking spurts (it's not all her fault--our kitchen is tiny), and trying to get organized for camp--the four weeks this summer that hold such promise of adventure, joy and unselfed love. For awhile I was feeling guilty because I was so hungry for a break. Then I remembered that as much as I've loved my new job, it is the first time in over 14 years that I've worked full-time. I used to believe that I was a good multitasker, but there were times at work this year when I felt so disorganized; yet it occured to me yesterday that in previous jobs my tasks were usually related (such as pieces of the search process when I worked in Human Resources), but this year my projects have been very diverse and were often done in brand new ways for the school (not just me)--like adopting an electronic box office and creating a campus-wide master calendar in Outlook.
Your blog today about camp, Stone River Reflections: Feels Like Home to Me, made me cry. The best self you describe finding each summer seems to be playing hide and seek with me these days. Sometimes the search for it has been exasperating, but I haven't given up. As I read your blog, I was wrapping up another day at work with projects I'd expected to finish still incomplete. That best self was once again eluding me. I sooo hoped that I too would find it in an enduring way at camp. Perhaps this hope, this simple desire, truly was a prayer. I soon felt God telling me, "You've really done OK this year. Don't hold the last few weeks against yourself. You did find that best self at camp last summer, and for the most part kept it at the forefront all year. There have even been some brights spots in the last few weeks. Hang in there; I'll help you. Camp is coming soon. Have compassion on your humanity."
"Have compassion on your humanity" is an idea I came across many years ago; it might have even been in something you wrote. I've been so grateful for those words of wisdom. Feeling compassion for myself has helped me keep going the past few days--helped me move from "fearful" to "playful." This compassion has been a moment to moment choice to stop seeing shortcomings and instead to recognize and celebrate all the little ways God does express himself as Maria. It's clearly an ongoing adventure.
So, save a seat for me and my best self by the lake! We'll see you in a few weeks!
Hugs and love,
Maria
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Papa's Love
Dear Papa,
I used to tease Michael that you kissed me before he did, but that’s really no fault of his. My then Victorian heart was determined not to kiss a boyfriend unless I considered him a serious prospect for marriage. So, your peck on the cheek came long before I allowed my first kiss from Michael (fortunately he's a very patient guy!).
Your welcoming hugs and kisses are just one example of your outreaching love—a love that was willing to be Santa for Rotary events (in spite of the fact that it must have taken 2 or 3 pillows to make your toothpick frame even begin to resemble the roly-poly Kris Kringle), a love that volunteered your pick-up truck to help deliver donations of canned goods to the neighborhood food pantry, a love that also regularly would visit and read to people at a nursing facility.
You and Mom made me feel like a welcome member of the clan even before Michael and I were married. Thank you both for also befriending my parents, for not just including them in family events out of politeness, but genuine care. A special thanks for helping host their 25th wedding anniversary party at your home years ago. It’s hard to believe that Michael and I will be celebrating 23 and a half years of marriage tomorrow, but look at you two. You’re going on number 53! What a great example for us all!
Papa, you also have wonderfully modeled a balanced lifestyle. Time with your family has always been part of your definition of success. All three of your sons are great dads. (I knew Mike would be; it’s one of the reasons I married him.) You also shared with your boys your love of God. Church and prayer have remained an important part of their lives. Like you, they are hard-working men, independent thinkers, desiring to serve and bless, and understanding the importance of home as the center of the affections.
I know things haven’t been easy for you the past six years. After a very active life, which even included running marathons for a while, I can’t image what it must be like to depend upon a wheel chair to get around and to be limited in your speech. While I know there are days when both you and Mom get frustrated, on the whole you two have expressed so much courage, joy and faith. I’ve heard so many people compliment your good spirits. Just as you were a strong support to Mom when she faced a difficult physical challenge years ago, she has so selflessly stood by your side--both of you faithfully fulfilling your promise to love “in sickness and in health.” Your individual and joint expressions of grace are awesome.
If my own mom and dad were here today, I know they would join me in thanking you for cherishing (truly grand parenting) our family. Your heart clearly pours out love. I continue to celebrate your standing up in church recently and testifying to God’s presence in your life. Even if only a few of the words were distinguishable, everyone heard your heart. You ARE an amazing man.
Happy Father’s Day Papa!
With gratitude and love,
Your daughter-in-law Maria
I used to tease Michael that you kissed me before he did, but that’s really no fault of his. My then Victorian heart was determined not to kiss a boyfriend unless I considered him a serious prospect for marriage. So, your peck on the cheek came long before I allowed my first kiss from Michael (fortunately he's a very patient guy!).
Your welcoming hugs and kisses are just one example of your outreaching love—a love that was willing to be Santa for Rotary events (in spite of the fact that it must have taken 2 or 3 pillows to make your toothpick frame even begin to resemble the roly-poly Kris Kringle), a love that volunteered your pick-up truck to help deliver donations of canned goods to the neighborhood food pantry, a love that also regularly would visit and read to people at a nursing facility.
You and Mom made me feel like a welcome member of the clan even before Michael and I were married. Thank you both for also befriending my parents, for not just including them in family events out of politeness, but genuine care. A special thanks for helping host their 25th wedding anniversary party at your home years ago. It’s hard to believe that Michael and I will be celebrating 23 and a half years of marriage tomorrow, but look at you two. You’re going on number 53! What a great example for us all!
Papa, you also have wonderfully modeled a balanced lifestyle. Time with your family has always been part of your definition of success. All three of your sons are great dads. (I knew Mike would be; it’s one of the reasons I married him.) You also shared with your boys your love of God. Church and prayer have remained an important part of their lives. Like you, they are hard-working men, independent thinkers, desiring to serve and bless, and understanding the importance of home as the center of the affections.
I know things haven’t been easy for you the past six years. After a very active life, which even included running marathons for a while, I can’t image what it must be like to depend upon a wheel chair to get around and to be limited in your speech. While I know there are days when both you and Mom get frustrated, on the whole you two have expressed so much courage, joy and faith. I’ve heard so many people compliment your good spirits. Just as you were a strong support to Mom when she faced a difficult physical challenge years ago, she has so selflessly stood by your side--both of you faithfully fulfilling your promise to love “in sickness and in health.” Your individual and joint expressions of grace are awesome.
If my own mom and dad were here today, I know they would join me in thanking you for cherishing (truly grand parenting) our family. Your heart clearly pours out love. I continue to celebrate your standing up in church recently and testifying to God’s presence in your life. Even if only a few of the words were distinguishable, everyone heard your heart. You ARE an amazing man.
Happy Father’s Day Papa!
With gratitude and love,
Your daughter-in-law Maria
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Awake and Centered
Dear Cousin,
I love our dialogs about healing! Recently, you mentioned that in one of his books, Catholic scholar John Dominic Crossen suggests that when Jesus was accused of casting out a demon by Beelzebub either he or his subject was in a trance. I was intrigued by your related question, “From your observation do you think that in Christian Science healing a very centered, quiet (connected) mind is part of healing for either the practitioner or the patient or both?”
At first I thought the question was going to be hard to answer, but surprisingly it wasn’t. I must preface my answer by saying that I am answering only from my personal perspective and limited experience as a healer--for someone else it may look and feel completely different. I find that the state of mind in which the most healing takes place, both for me as a patient and as a practitioner, is almost the exact opposite of a trance. Rather, I feel very much awake, alert and in tune with my surroundings, even if a short time before I was completely exhausted. When I truly enter the heart of prayer, I become acutely aware of God's presence in every thing, situation, and thought around me. I think I've shared with you my experience of God feeling "so there" at a pop concert and this being a turning point in a healing (see my May 5th blog “Bows of Promise”). Yes, my thought did become really centered, as in focused on witnessing and expressing only God's love, but not in any meditative sense. I'm not sure it was even something I was aware of doing at the time.
However, the conscious process of becoming mentally and physically centered and quiet can be a useful exercise, quieting fears and getting thought headed in the right direction--using the letter to help lead one to the spirit. I believe Jesus sometimes used various human methods in his healing work in response to where his audience was in their spirituality--what they were ready to accept: putting clay on the blind man's eyes, causing demons to enter swine and drown themselves. Perhaps this was so the people wouldn't be afraid that the demons were running around looking for other bodies to enter. Maybe Crossen’s perceived trance was a similar concession--just wild guesses. I think thought is always quieted and becomes more awake to our unbreakable connection to Mind in the healing "process." For the patient especially, this may be more an effect of healing rather than a cause of healing.
I'm generally a "pray as you go and on the go" person; however, there was a time last week when I could tell I needed to just take some time to put on the brakes, get quiet and pray. The previous two weeks had been extremely full. I helped coordinate many of our high school’s graduation events immediately followed by teacher in-services. Heidi graduated from Middle School and headed off to a youth meeting in Boston, and Michael made two trips out of town including a Cub Scout camping trip with Lincoln. Professionally, I thrive when things are busy. I especially enjoyed graduation week because God’s timely hand in the details was so evident; however, by last Tuesday I was a zombie. It wasn’t so much the activities that had finally caught up with me, but everything else. Mentally there were health challenges to face, intuitions to pray over, confidences shared to cherish, and dilemmas to be worked through. These issues clamored for attention, completely preoccupying my thought. I decided to take Wednesday morning off from work for extra rest and prayer time. As the hour I should be at work rapidly approached, I still felt tired and stressed. My mental exercises in the name of prayer weren’t getting me very far. Only when I was willing to take my thought in a totally different direction did I began to get the truly invigorating answers I needed. Instead of trying to pray about each problem, I prayerfully explored a friend’s kind reminder that God continually gives me all the inspiration, direction, energy and concentration I need to do whatever task is at hand. As I cherished my God-insured ability to do the work before me (became awake to God’s doings) the fatigue disappeared. Even though all the personal issues hadn't been resolved, they no longer weighed upon my thought. I actually got to work sooner than expected and had a very productive finish to the week.
So I guess in this case, I did set aside time and made a conscious effort to quiet my thinking. However, only as I was willing to stop efforts to steer my thought or meditate on certain “truths,” did I get the inspiration needed to transform my experience.
I look forward to hearing more about your perspective on this topic!
With love,
Maria
Postscript: My morning at home made me think of the 23rd Psalm, "He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness..." In "The Message" this phrase is translated, "you let me catch my breath and send me in the right direction."
I love our dialogs about healing! Recently, you mentioned that in one of his books, Catholic scholar John Dominic Crossen suggests that when Jesus was accused of casting out a demon by Beelzebub either he or his subject was in a trance. I was intrigued by your related question, “From your observation do you think that in Christian Science healing a very centered, quiet (connected) mind is part of healing for either the practitioner or the patient or both?”
At first I thought the question was going to be hard to answer, but surprisingly it wasn’t. I must preface my answer by saying that I am answering only from my personal perspective and limited experience as a healer--for someone else it may look and feel completely different. I find that the state of mind in which the most healing takes place, both for me as a patient and as a practitioner, is almost the exact opposite of a trance. Rather, I feel very much awake, alert and in tune with my surroundings, even if a short time before I was completely exhausted. When I truly enter the heart of prayer, I become acutely aware of God's presence in every thing, situation, and thought around me. I think I've shared with you my experience of God feeling "so there" at a pop concert and this being a turning point in a healing (see my May 5th blog “Bows of Promise”). Yes, my thought did become really centered, as in focused on witnessing and expressing only God's love, but not in any meditative sense. I'm not sure it was even something I was aware of doing at the time.
However, the conscious process of becoming mentally and physically centered and quiet can be a useful exercise, quieting fears and getting thought headed in the right direction--using the letter to help lead one to the spirit. I believe Jesus sometimes used various human methods in his healing work in response to where his audience was in their spirituality--what they were ready to accept: putting clay on the blind man's eyes, causing demons to enter swine and drown themselves. Perhaps this was so the people wouldn't be afraid that the demons were running around looking for other bodies to enter. Maybe Crossen’s perceived trance was a similar concession--just wild guesses. I think thought is always quieted and becomes more awake to our unbreakable connection to Mind in the healing "process." For the patient especially, this may be more an effect of healing rather than a cause of healing.
I'm generally a "pray as you go and on the go" person; however, there was a time last week when I could tell I needed to just take some time to put on the brakes, get quiet and pray. The previous two weeks had been extremely full. I helped coordinate many of our high school’s graduation events immediately followed by teacher in-services. Heidi graduated from Middle School and headed off to a youth meeting in Boston, and Michael made two trips out of town including a Cub Scout camping trip with Lincoln. Professionally, I thrive when things are busy. I especially enjoyed graduation week because God’s timely hand in the details was so evident; however, by last Tuesday I was a zombie. It wasn’t so much the activities that had finally caught up with me, but everything else. Mentally there were health challenges to face, intuitions to pray over, confidences shared to cherish, and dilemmas to be worked through. These issues clamored for attention, completely preoccupying my thought. I decided to take Wednesday morning off from work for extra rest and prayer time. As the hour I should be at work rapidly approached, I still felt tired and stressed. My mental exercises in the name of prayer weren’t getting me very far. Only when I was willing to take my thought in a totally different direction did I began to get the truly invigorating answers I needed. Instead of trying to pray about each problem, I prayerfully explored a friend’s kind reminder that God continually gives me all the inspiration, direction, energy and concentration I need to do whatever task is at hand. As I cherished my God-insured ability to do the work before me (became awake to God’s doings) the fatigue disappeared. Even though all the personal issues hadn't been resolved, they no longer weighed upon my thought. I actually got to work sooner than expected and had a very productive finish to the week.
So I guess in this case, I did set aside time and made a conscious effort to quiet my thinking. However, only as I was willing to stop efforts to steer my thought or meditate on certain “truths,” did I get the inspiration needed to transform my experience.
I look forward to hearing more about your perspective on this topic!
With love,
Maria
Postscript: My morning at home made me think of the 23rd Psalm, "He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness..." In "The Message" this phrase is translated, "you let me catch my breath and send me in the right direction."
Saturday, June 02, 2007
You made a difference!
Dear Katie,
As I write this you are probably still on the campus green, wearing your white graduation gown, enjoying pastries and punch, visiting with family and friends, and beaming with a smile as big as the Cheshire Cat's. I'm so glad I got to be at your graduation this morning. The speaker talked about how the Class of 2007 will not only make a difference in the future, but has done so already just by the way they've lived their lives. Her comments made me think of you.
Before going to camp last summer as a rookie bunkhouse mom, I spent several months praying about my unknown cabin--rejoicing that God would put each person in their right place. I knew that God would make sure everyone came with everything needed to flourish--not just socks and waterbottles, but the courage, health, joy and other qualities which would help them give, grow, and have fun. I was thinking mostly about the campers, but I now have no doubt that the fruits of my prayers put me in Cabin J with you, Eva and Mary Beth. Over the next two weeks as I listened to you tell bedtime stories to our third-graders about their adventures as princesses, as I joined you in singing our girls to sleep with hymns in four part harmony, and as I laughed so hard I cried while eating M&M's and joking with you and other counselors under the stars, I began to discover parts of myself that I hardly new existed. You helped me realize that I am a fun, somewhat "with it" person. Just by sharing your joyful friendship, you gave me the courage to apply for my current job where I interact with high schoolers on a regular basis--you gave me hope that teenagers would actually accept and maybe even like me.
I've really enjoyed working in the Head of School's office this year. I never thought there could be a job I liked as much as being a camp counselor, but I think I've found one. As you and your 62 classmates walked across the stage today, I knew almost every one of you by name. In one way or another each member of your class has crossed my path this year--some merely as names, but most as friends. I've had so much fun watching your lights shine, encouraging me by your examples to live my own life to the fullest now.
I love how every time I saw you in the hall or school lobby you had a smile for me, the fun way you'd say "Maria" with a Spanish flair, how your kindness let me know that I had a special friend nearby if ever needed. You have a wonderful way of making others feel comfortable, loved and special. We never did make it out for ice cream this year, but I have no doubt our paths will cross again, and then I owe you a hot fudge sundae or two.
Thank you Katie for making a difference in my life. Congratulation on your graduation!
Hugs, best wishes and so much love,
Maria
As I write this you are probably still on the campus green, wearing your white graduation gown, enjoying pastries and punch, visiting with family and friends, and beaming with a smile as big as the Cheshire Cat's. I'm so glad I got to be at your graduation this morning. The speaker talked about how the Class of 2007 will not only make a difference in the future, but has done so already just by the way they've lived their lives. Her comments made me think of you.
Before going to camp last summer as a rookie bunkhouse mom, I spent several months praying about my unknown cabin--rejoicing that God would put each person in their right place. I knew that God would make sure everyone came with everything needed to flourish--not just socks and waterbottles, but the courage, health, joy and other qualities which would help them give, grow, and have fun. I was thinking mostly about the campers, but I now have no doubt that the fruits of my prayers put me in Cabin J with you, Eva and Mary Beth. Over the next two weeks as I listened to you tell bedtime stories to our third-graders about their adventures as princesses, as I joined you in singing our girls to sleep with hymns in four part harmony, and as I laughed so hard I cried while eating M&M's and joking with you and other counselors under the stars, I began to discover parts of myself that I hardly new existed. You helped me realize that I am a fun, somewhat "with it" person. Just by sharing your joyful friendship, you gave me the courage to apply for my current job where I interact with high schoolers on a regular basis--you gave me hope that teenagers would actually accept and maybe even like me.
I've really enjoyed working in the Head of School's office this year. I never thought there could be a job I liked as much as being a camp counselor, but I think I've found one. As you and your 62 classmates walked across the stage today, I knew almost every one of you by name. In one way or another each member of your class has crossed my path this year--some merely as names, but most as friends. I've had so much fun watching your lights shine, encouraging me by your examples to live my own life to the fullest now.
I love how every time I saw you in the hall or school lobby you had a smile for me, the fun way you'd say "Maria" with a Spanish flair, how your kindness let me know that I had a special friend nearby if ever needed. You have a wonderful way of making others feel comfortable, loved and special. We never did make it out for ice cream this year, but I have no doubt our paths will cross again, and then I owe you a hot fudge sundae or two.
Thank you Katie for making a difference in my life. Congratulation on your graduation!
Hugs, best wishes and so much love,
Maria
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