Counting on Christ

How has Cursillo changed me?  To answer that requires that I look backward to where I have been and where I am now.  Where has God been in my life?  Where is he now? By the Grace of God I have always known that God was in my life that he did exist and that somehow he was working in my life and in this world.  I credit this to my parents.  Briefly, my father was a cradle Catholic who strongly identified with his Roman Catholic faith.  From him, I learned a strong sense of duty to God, an obligation to attend mass and from time to time as I grew older I could ask him questions and learn from his strong foundation of Catholic education from grade school to college.  My father was particularly enamoured of Jesuit spirituality having graduated from Georgetown and he passed this appreciation onto me.  Although my parents were married in the church following my mother's forced conversion, my mother was not and did not remain Catholic.  Her heart was with the church where she was raised the United Methodist Church.  This was a bitter point of dispute with my parents.  My father was adamant that I was and would be Catholic yet my mother endeavored and successfully shared many aspects of her personal Spirituality with me.  What did I learn from her?  Much! I attended Sunday school for at least 10 years growing up.  I received my first bible at her church when I was 8.  I learned beautiful hymns that still echo in my heart and and I can still hear both her and my grandmother who were both very accomplished musicians singing these songs which still stir my heart to love and adore God for all he is and all he has given to me.  From my mother, I learned an example.  She prayed with me each night as she tucked me in and I would say Now I lay me down to sleep probably till I left for college. Each night she read from her bible and studied God's word.  At times she would share special spiritual insights with me like when I visited Colorado the first time and was so struck by the beauty and majesty of the Rockies and upon calling her she voiced what I had been thinking when you behold these mountains you are certain without doubt that God exists.

Academy of the Sacred Heart-Grand Coteau Louisiana 

More formation occurred the year I attended boarding school at the Academy of the Sacred Heart in Grand Coteau, Lousiana.  My father had attended and graduated from Catholic Military School and spoke fondly of this experience.  I was fourteen, struggling and unmotivated academically.  I wanted to escape from living in the constant drama that was unfolding between my parents who had separated and I jumped at the novelty of getting away from home and having a fresh start when my father suggested it.  My mother was opposed to this but she acquiesced to my desire. Grand Coteau is located nearby to Lafayette, Louisiana in the heart of Catholic country.  The school was picturesque  set in a beautiful southern building amid large water oaks and dating back to 1821. The sisters of the Sacred Heart were our teachers and I came to love and respect them as well as to learn and more closely identify with my Catholic faith during my year there. I was drawn to attend daily mass, my own choice, and I came to know the Jesuit priests from the nearby seminary particularly, Father Poche, the retreat director from Our Lady of the Oaks retreat house.  Several of my classmates and I spent time during the weekends learning about the history of the area and visiting the nearby cemeteries with this kind and wonderful man. During this time, I strongly felt the presence of God and even briefly contemplated whether I might have some calling myself to religious life.

After a single year, I chose instead to return back home to the private school where I had gone since the first grade.  My father was bitterly disappointed in my choice and as a result I lived with my mother and had limited contact with him throughout the remaining 2 years of high school.  On Sunday's when I would attend mass, my father refused to speak with me and I felt lonely, isolated and alone at the church where I had grown up.  As a result, I began attending church with my mother and grandmother.  I was welcomed here and even visited by the minister and invited to become a part of this community which had always been a second faith home to me.  Yet in my heart I was a Catholic as that had always been my identify.  Eventually, my father forgave me and encouraged me to return to church which I gladly did.

For college, I ended up at the University of Florida.  I initially began faithfully attending mass at the nearby church and Catholic student center.  I did not however become involved in student ministry and over time my attendance at mass became more sporadic.  The same year I started UF, I met a boy from my hometown named Bill whom I soon realized was the one I would spend my life with.  Having watched my parents marriage struggles over religion, I had always hoped that I would marry in the church.  Again through the grace of God, I had found the most wonderful person who too had been raised Catholic and so church membership was never an issue.  During our last year of college as we prepared to marry in the church, we both got caught up on our sacraments by being confirmed.  In 1986, Bill and I were married at the Cathedral of St Jude the Apostle the church where I had grown up in St. Petersburg, Florida.

Just over a week after Bill and I were married, we packed up my 1970 Ford Torino and moved north.  Bill would be working for Frito Lay in New Hampshire and I would be attending law school in Boston.  Moving to New England was quite a culture shock.  We knew no one.  Having just received the sacrament of Matrimony one of the first places that we went was the nearby church in the town of Derry, New Hampshire where we settled.   From this first point and throughout our marriage in almost every community where we have lived the Catholic Church has been and continues to be a place of belonging.  That belonging however has grown from a place to attend mass fairly regularly and on Easter and Christmas to a place that defines who I am and why I am here.  In those early years of marriage, I was far more preoccupied with studying for a career and worrying about buying a home and where I would take my next vacation than I was with knowing God and his will for my life.

Fast forward to 1990, Bill and I had moved to Connecticut where our lives revolved around our careers and future plans for having a family and buying a house. In our new community, we did not establish the same ties with any parish.  There were 2 close by and I cannot remember the name of either.  One had air conditioning, one did not and where we went, when we went which I know was far less frequent, was more defined by what season of the year it was. In April of that year, I had just learned I was pregnant when I received a call from my Grandma telling me that my mother had been admitted to an intensive care unit at a hospital in Florida.  I was on a plane the next morning and within days I was having my mother removed from life support, flying to Memphis, Tennessee where she was to be buried and planning a funeral.  An unexpected death reminds us that we are not in control.  I believed and do believe that my mother is with God but losing her that year changed my life and my priorities.

To start with, we moved back to Florida.  Someone had to look out for my Grandmother who was 85 and suffering the onset of Alzheimer's.  I am an only child as was my mother so that left me.  Bill and I left our careers and lived with family for over 3 months until he went back to work once again with Frito Lay.  In November 1990, our son, Will, was born.  As is often the case following the birth of a child, faith reemerged and took on new meaning having seen during a single year both death and new life. Our parish became a central place of our life.  We attended mass regularly and baptized our son.  For myself, I wanted to pass onto my children the sense of faith that I had been given and I wanted them to grow up with one faith in their hearts. Another change was that I had no interest in returning to a law career despite the many years spent achieving that goal.  I had a new understanding that life was not forever.  I wanted to spend my days raising my son who was the joy of my life.

Found memories of kids during their ACA days

Fast forward again.  We added 2 more children to our family and changed cities. I wanted to enroll my children in Catholic school and for them to learn their faith in a way that I did not and in a community where they would thrive.  We did a bit of parish shopping until we found the right church with the right Catholic school. My son started in the 1st grade and my daughter in kindergarten at Annunciation Catholic.  Being a part of this school and faith community was an amazing experience. I learned about my faith with my kids.  I joined a church ministry called Ministry of Mothers Sharing and came to my earliest understanding of how God's Grace was operating in my day to day life as a mother. I volunteered at school, my kids played sports in the Catholic Youth League and their friends and ours were those who went to our church and we saw each Sunday at mass.  I also grew spiritually be electing to be a sponsor for RCIA for 2 years.

By 2004, teenage years arrived and my son graduated from the 8th grade.  He has significant learning challenges and the local Catholic High school would not have been a good fit for him.  I tried homeschooling him and then public school and neither option seemed to be a good fit.  About that time, Bill and I began to contemplate a relocation to Georgia.  Maybe moving to the country and a simple life living in the Bible belt would be better option for our kids and for us financially.  Maybe we could save money and send them to public school? We of course did take that relocation and move to Warner Robins in 2006. Once here we found that both  nearby churches were far smaller than our former parish.  St Patricks was closer so we started attending there.

From 2006 until 2010 Fall when I made my Cursillo seemed to be a time of constant turmoil. Teenagers are difficult! Our lives revolved around trying to keep them busy and entertained with sports and socially.  We made friends mostly through our neighborhood, Bill's work and cheerleading.  We attended St Patrick's regularly on Sundays and our 2 oldest attended confirmation class but we did not live in the bubble that we did when they were younger.  We  quickly questioned everything  about this move especially schools and the new friends they were making.  By 2008, we decided that Emily, my middle child, belonged back in Catholic school so she was enrolled at Mount de Sales. The following year I made the decision to enroll my youngest there as well with the hope that they would both graduate and flourish in a more disciplined environment. Being that Macon is 30 minutes away and that we were not members of St Josephs, we did not have the same experience that we had with Catholic school in Florida.  Emily did much better academically attending there but her sister struggled.  We enjoyed the sports and school events but we did not experience the same connection that we had in Florida especially spiritually.  At the end of Katie's(my youngest's)  first year, she had not completed the 8th grade satisfactorily and was denied to re enroll for the 9th grade. She had passed the grade and could move to 9th at another school just not Mount de Sales.  I was willing for her to repeat the 8th grade but was told it was against school policy.  I decided to homeschool her rather than put her back in public school. This was another big disappointment.

My first 4 years in Warner Robins had felt like a roller coaster.  I longer for the serenity that I had felt back while living in Florida and the spiritual support I had felt at my former parish. I had heard about Cursillo and Ultreya and knew Julie Eby from my neighborhood so I signed up to go knowing I needed something different in my life. I cannot forget the joy that I experienced on this weekend. Prior to coming I had started this blog that I entitled, "Grow Where you are Planted." When I heard that in Cursillo, we talk about blooming where you are planted it all made sense why I was there and it confirmed that this is where God wanted me to be.

I think many of us wish we could stay on the weekend forever.  Well maybe not in the bunkhouse with the hard beds and snoring but definitely in the Spirit. I guess that is why so many of us have chosen to serve on team.  I left feeling on top of the world and I could not wait to go back.  Yet back in the world we must go.  And as it goes, it was not  one month from my Cursillo  weekend when we faced another bombshell.  My daughter Emily was forced to withdraw from Mount de Sales  in October of her Senior year following a minor disciplinary incident .  Once again, I felt devastated.  Here I was trying to more forward in faith and learn to accept where I was and the circumstances of life and here was yet another blow in very long line of blows relative to raising the teenagers. Yet somehow, it was different.  I had started grouping as part of the 4th day and I had  not just friends who would listen but friends that helped me put it into a spiritual perspective and prayed with me and for me.

I remember when I went to my first group meeting at Julie Eby's house.  I felt like the youngster in the bunch.  I was the only one with kids still in school and I had trouble initially relating to those sharing about their grandchildren.  That was one surprise that I definitely did not need from my already wayward teens! Yet something told me.  This is where you belong there is much wisdom here and you can learn from them. Sometimes when I brought up things that were bothering me that I knew were petty in nature I knew I had much maturing that I needed to do in my faith. This group challenged me and accepted me and I finally had a place and spiritual sisters to gather with regularly to help me grow in my faith.

Even though I was gung ho to serve on team I did not do so until this past Fall.  I was going to do the Spring right after  my weekend in 2011 but there was a lot going on in my life and  so it seems for several of the weekends  after that.  I was hoping to serve last Spring but then another curve ball came my way, cancer.  Even though I count myself as a person of faith and know that my life belongs to God, I was so afraid.  I started back to daily mass something that I had not done since boarding school.  Here, not surprisingly were other Cursillistas whose faith inspired and strengthened my own.  I can't help it but I've got to talk about Bec and Ed again.  Bec who had just walked a similar cancer journey was there with a faith and strength that I wanted for myself. Ed looked out for me but was also especially concerned for my husband in his role as my caretaker.  Daily mass was my lifeline.  I had also started volunteering with RCIA .  This part of the St Patricks community  rallied around me as well and prayed with me and for me.  I became part of their study when Father Eric administered me with the sacrament of Anointing of the Sick.

As I had said, I wanted so much to be a part of the Cursillo last Spring.  Ann who was the Rectora had invited me.  Arlene and Denise both from my group were on that weekend.  Jim was the deacon, Bec was on team and Stephanie from RCIA was a candidate. Bec  and I had gotten to know each other better in the early part of last year.  She had come to my first chemo and brought a stuffed clown to cheer me up.  I kept hoping that I would feel well enough to volunteer at the last minute but I was in between chemo 4 and 5 and just didn't.  I did feel well enough to go for closing and I could tell from that what a wonderful weekend I had missed.  I vowed to do the next one.  Bec spoke of the cursillo following the weekend saying that she had felt that she needed to give back after coming through her own cancer journey.  I'll never forget her saying that she felt like she had done what God was calling her to do just following the weekend.  It was not long after that we learned that her cancer had reoccurred.

From June and onward despite having 2 surgeries I began to feel better.  I committed myself to serve on team and contacted Lawanda once I felt certain that I was well enough to do so physically. I told her in earnest I will do whatever you tell me.  I was even prepared to serve in the kitchen even though I really don't see that as my primary apostolate.  When Lawanda emailed and asked me to do the Layperson talk, I was honored but as I read the suggested text, I did not immediately connect.  All the wisdom from the longtime cursillistas  guided me as Deacon Ken and Katee  told me I could make this my own.  So I sat down and let the Spirit guide me and he did.  I was able to create something that helped me to grow in my understanding and which I hope also spoke to those candidates making their weekend. I also as I was preparing my talk was guided by Denise and Arlene and by Bec as well as I sat with her one afternoon in the Tuscan Room at her home and practiced asking her what she thought of my talk.  Bec so loved this ministry.  It was just a few weeks before the woman's weekend this past October when she entered hospice.  As many of us were there, I know that we felt a special connection as Cursillistas during this time of prayer and waiting for God to take Bec home which he did just days before the woman's weekend.

How Blessed am I? Thoughts while visiting Sydney, Australia November 2013

Despite my sadness at having said goodbye to a true sister and friend, the weekend was full of joy and the Holy Spirit.  Wednesday before the weekend began, was my last radiation treatment and the end of what I would term my active treatment for cancer.  It felt like a rebirth for me spiritually.  So how has Cursillo changed me?  Well I can honestly say that it continues to transform me.  It has given me a true sense of belonging.  I even wonder sometimes how I could ever leave Warner Robins and St Patricks?  Say what? What has Cursillo done for me?  It has taught me a formula to nourish my own faith life by finding the balance between study, piety and action.
It has also given me a strength and peace that I did not have last January as I confronted the uncertainty of my diagnosis.  I know as do all who have had cancer that it may come back.  Yet living and growing in my faith each day gives me the peace that I am endeavoring to do God's work and that my life is ultimately in his hands. I am better able to turn the troubles that I have and face in life over to God trusting that he can and will take care of whatever challenges I face if I just trust in him. At the end of last year, I thought to myself how blessed am I and knew in my heart that I was indeed blessed because God has taught me how to trust him and I can confidently say I am counting on Christ today and always....de Colores!

Everyday Epiphanies

I'm taking one last look at my Christmas tree which I left up until the church celebrated day for the Epiphany this past Sunday.  I love my tree!  Mostly the ornaments which are covered with memories ornaments made by my children, ornaments made by Bill's Grandma Campbell long since deceased, ornaments purchased from almost every place I have been with my family, ornaments brought home to me from Germany by my father and even a few that belonged to my mother. Each year as I put it up it reminds me of all I have to be thankful for. This year it took on even more meaning as I emerge from a year of cancer treatment.

Everyday going forward suddenly has so much more meaning and purpose to it. I take so much less for granted.  Even household chores are becoming less burdensome as I am thankful that I can get up feel good and push the vacuum.  I can make dinner for my husband and minister to others.  In short what seemed mundane no longer feels that way to me.


As I pondered this new lease that I have on life I was reminded of my mother.  It's funny the things that you remember about someone and what they did or said when they are gone.  She died in 1990 when I was still pretty young, just twenty five. I would say that I took a lot for granted before her death and her sudden death changed me and the choices I made going forward. Like choosing to stay home with my newborn son rather than pursuing what I thought was my destiny of being a courtroom litigator.  What's really important when you realize that life is not forever?

This morning as I was pondering my thoughts and trying to put them down and be more faithful to using my time better going forward I thought of the play, Our Town, that my mother and I saw together twice when she was alive and even though I have not seen it since it came back to me.  For those reading who are not familiar, Our Town is a 1938 three act play written by Thornton Wilder, an American playwright. The set for the play is very minimal; there is nothing elaborate no scenery and almost no props. Act 1 begins and ends as  a simple and routine day as the audience is introduced to the cast of characters including the two main characters Emily and George who are young students attending school in their town of Grover's Corner, New Hampshire.  Act 2 fast forwards 6 years to when the two are married. Act 3 begins somberly 9 years later as Emily is laid to rest following her death in childbirth. This scene takes place at the cemetery where Emily talks with others from the town who have also now died and wants to return to live just one more day. She is allowed to do so and chooses a fairly ordinary day that of her twelfth birthday. As she begins to relive this one day, she is struck by how fleeting life is and how so much of daily life is taken for granted rather than savoring every moment.  This painful realization prompts her to return to the others at the cemetery with a poignant quote "Does anyone ever realize life while they live it... every, every moment?"

I can still recall my mother who cried at the end of this play both times but the second time as we saw it most in my memory.  It was Fall 1985, the year before I was married.  It was time together that I took for granted just like the characters in the play.  She had come to visit me at The University of Florida for Parent's weekend at my sorority, Phi Mu.  I was looking for something for us to do together to pass the time and I think one of my sorority sisters was in the play.  At the time, the future seemed endless, I was getting married in August and time seemed just an obstacle to pass time till my future began. By Fall of 1986, I was married, living in New Hampshire and my time with my mother until her death in 1990 would only be for brief visits  when we visited Florida and for the last time when I graduated law school in 1989.

Fast forward to 2013.  Much has happened in life.  I am married and I have 3 children, 2 adults and 1 on the verge of adulthood.  Life in Warner Robins, Georgia appears pretty boring most of the time.  The joy of parenting young children is long since gone and often I feel like I don't have much input into the lives of my children who are probably much like I was over 25 years ago. Enter a cancer diagnosis leading to my own Epiphany much like the one when my mother died that reminds me that life is not forever.  None of us know how long we ourselves or those whom we love will be here.  The challenge is to live everyday as an opportunity.  Prior to 2013, I would have guessed that I would be like my maternal grandma who died at 94 since I didn't smoke, wasn't obese and had no real health concerns. Living this past year has reminded me of the value of each and everyday.  I wish I could say that I have made the most of everyday since my diagnosis but I can't.  I can however say that I am living with a new awareness of all the blessings in my life and more determined to be thankful and grateful in return. Time to stop writing and onto living!

Do Whatever He Tells You

Welcome to 2014! If only I could synchronize my thoughts with actually sitting down to write what is in my heart.  As I begin this New Year, I am full of joy and expectation and resolved to be better in a number of ways.  January 1st, I began right for the first time in years...I went to mass!! After all, my Catholic faith I espouse has taught me that it IS a holy day of obligation.  I almost did not as I had my inlaws packing to leave, my husband  at work and I was tired from staying out at parties till past midnight and holiday entertaining.  I do believe that God was challenging me and  I knew clearly in my heart what he was telling me to DO...  make following him and doing what he was telling me a priority by following through and   joining with others in my faith community to honor him first on this 1st day of the New Year. 

My trip to church was rewarded as it always it by seeing friends and more importantly by a renewal of joy that comes from obeying my Lord and Savior putting him first and turning everything over to him. "Obey" doing as someone else is telling us is often challenging and in today's world downright counter cultural. The title for this post comes right out of scripture from the gospel of John Chapter 2,  

"On the third day there was a wedding in Cana in Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. Jesus and his disciples were also invited to the wedding.  When the wine ran short, the mother of Jesus said to him. 'They have no wine.'
 [And] Jesus said to her, 'Woman how does your concern affect me? My hour has not yet come.'  His mother said to the servers, 'Do whatever he tells you.'" 

Here as the story unfolds we see, Jesus, God incarnate, choosing to obey his mother by performing his first miracle and transforming the water into wine.  This brings up a question of why would Jesus or why would anyone choose to obey another?  A recent thought provoking question that I heard from a deacon at church during a gathering of our Cursillo community was, "Do we obey because we love or do we love because we obey? My response after weeks of pondering is that we obey because we love.  Choosing to obey or submit to another is often an act of selfless love when done not out of coercion, fear or guilt but truly and lovingly deciding to respond by doing what is asked.

So how to discern what God is asking?  My life and those of many whom I call friends in my faith community have been incredibly blessed by a movement within our church called Cursillo.  There is a similar movement in the Protestant Faith called Walk to Emmaus and Tres Dias.  To know anyone God included demands that we devote time to that relationship. We do this in 3 ways first through study or learning. Second, We must devote time talking and listening to God by prayer or piety.  Finally, once we know we must move forward with action by doing what he is telling us. 

Much of 2013 for me was spent studying and praying.  Having started last January with a breast cancer diagnosis, I learned and encountered many new and challenging things from medical information to the realities of how many people have been touched by and affected by this disease.  I confronted the reality that my life was ultimately in God's hands. I prayed, increased my attendance at mass and was joined by and supported by others who prayed for my strength and healing as I journeyed through fear, sickness and once again toward physical health with a new sense of understanding and awareness. I can honestly say that 2013 was a time for me to grow spiritually with a new awareness of what matters in life and paving the way for a future where my life can be more purposeful moving forward.  Yes God, I am listening and you have my attention.  Now in 2014, the challenge is to action by obeying God and serving him first and foremost. 2