Poetry from the Inner ENFP

Inner cyclones assaulted her,
caused her to tumble inside out.
Look up, she told herself! Look toward the Sun!
Yes, yes I see a glimmer of eternity.
What’s that noise?
Turn, turn, slowly turn
Back to navels and gray that matters.
Eternity slips away
But wait.
He’s there and will not leave…
Forever steady, holding that glimmer,
Knowing she will strive, strive, strive to return.
There are those who gaze continually.
They are no closer to His heart.

The Fam ( - Sweetie Pie)

Here are the kiddos (minus our beloved Liz) on Christmas Eve after Mass. Go to Theresa's Blog (www.tmarie.blogspot.com) for more pics (click on the picture of the kids holding Liz's picture).

We brought Theresa to the airport on Thursday and her flight was postponed and not expected to leave Denver for Oakland due to weather. So she stayed until today! It was so nice to have her here longer.

Love you guys!!

Christmas Update

I wish I had pictures to post, but they're stuck inside Theresa's camera.

We're all sitting at Nordaggio's coffee shop, keeping Sarah company while she works. We're all working on computers, reading and talking - except Mary, she's sleeping (except when we all laugh at her, which wakes her up!).

We're about to leave to take Theresa to the airport, which is very sad. She has to work tomorrow, which is crazy.

We had a wonderful Christmas - we went to Mass on Christmas Eve then read our Christmas Chimes story. On Christmas morning we all woke up kind of late so the eggnog wasn't ready (wasn't even purchased!!) and the monkey bread hadn't been started yet, but oh well, it was wonderful anyway. Then after our ham dinner we watched the Christmas Story and T, Sarah and I went to the adoration chapel. I can't believe I went along with this, but we then all came home and watched the SIMPSON'S movie. Anyone who knows me knows how much I DON'T like the Simpsons, but the kids talked us into it and guess what, I loved it! I laughed and laughed.

Yesterday we went to the Whitehursts for games but we ended up enjoying our conversation so much we ended up talking instead.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Jesse Trees, Noble Trees, and Family Trees

When the kids come home we end up talking about so many interesting topics. I learn so much. And sometimes I cringe, like when Sarah told me about the 450 party at Swarthmore. She and I are sitting in a coffee shop right now while she finishes a final paper that's due by midnight.

We put up the Jesse Tree today - a pretty nice specimen collected in our own back yard! (There are benefits to ice storms - we usually have to go hunting for just the right one.) We string it with lights, hang it from the ceiling by the windows in the dining room and then, one by one, hang from it symbols of the Old Testament that were precursors to Jesus, the root of Jesse. We found some of the ornaments that the kids had made when they were kids had molded this year - not sure why because we stored them the same way we do each year. Sad.

It's ideally hung up the first Sunday of Advent, but oh well - we just got our tree up too. Putting up the tree on December 18th is actually a Shea tradition because we used to put it up on Mary Ellen's birthday. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SIS!

Sarah arrived home today, following David and Mary who arrived last week. And Theresa comes tomorrow. And Elizabeth Clare whom we talk about constantly because we miss her so much will celebrate Christmas this year with those she is serving through the Peace Corps in Honduras. We talked to her three times in the last three days which is wonderful - she usually only calls once each week or two. She's doing such a great job. WE LOVE YOU, LIZ!

Blessed Light and Heat!

HURRAY! The power's on!! The whole neighborhood lit up Thursday night except us. That was a bad day. Especially because we knew the people who were one-off's were at the bottom of the priority list with some people at work hearing they may go until Christmas without power.

There was also a run on electricians because anyone who had damage on their house electrically had to have it fixed before PSO would turn on the house power. We weren't sure why the power wasn't working, but it looked like a house issue. Fortunately we had the name of a wonderful electrician who has done work for us before. We called him Thursday night and he came Friday after he got out of work. He said the reason we weren't turned on was because the electric box on the house was tilted a little and PSO probably thought it was a safety issue. Oh boy, I thought, we'll get it straightened and then wait til Christmas for PSO.

Anyway, the electrician fixed the box and then said, "Don't tell PSO, but they left their box open and I'll turn you back on." HURRAY! When he was finished and heard us cheering I said, "How much do we owe you, $1000?" He said "No, just $35."

From the Ice Castle

OK, let's see if this works. I have never successfully uploaded a pic before to the blog. I wish I had a pic of our house, but this will have to do since it's the only one I could find on the web.

We're in the middle of an ice storm, been without power for 2 days. I called Mary Ellen this morning and said, "Help me I'm being held captive by the Ice Princess in her castle!" I'm at work now - got here at 5:30 - where there's heat! And light!

Chris and I were thinking a lot last night about the New Orleans residents. We pulled into our neighborhood where it was getting dark and looked so desolate with trees bent in half, falling into the street, etc. It was depressing to think of going into a dark, cold house. (We had FINALLY found some fire wood - a man and his kids selling it by the side of the road. It's so ironic because there's firewood all around us but with 250,000 looking for chain saws they're a little hard to come by.) We have only experienced this for 2 days, with a lot less devastation. What must it have been like for NOL? And now?

A tip for any who would like one: run, don't walk, to your nearest Home Depot and buy a crank up radio/flashlight combo. What a relief to be able to use it without worrying about having to try to find batteries or a plug to recharge it, etc. We had one in our emergency box, along with all the other stuff that's been stored there since September 12, 2001!

Violence

It was a sad day today. A friend of Mary's, who she visited when home for Thanksgiving, was murdered by her boyfriend (whom Mary also knew) and he then committed suicide. I am so angry at the violence in the world, in our hearts, in our families. Mary has had to experience it twice - the first time when she was in 3rd grade.

I love you, Mary. I've left messages with all the bro and the sis's - we're all praying for you.

Love,
Mom

Thank You!

What a wonderful Thanksgiving! It started on Tuesday when Mary came home! Then Wednesday I took off work and just totally relaxed. Mary and I shopped a little then later (11:30) we picked up Sarah at the airport! We stopped at IHOP on the way home and we stayed up WAAAAYYY too late.

This morning I woke up too early! But I was so joyful, I wanted to wake up so I wouldn't waste it sleeping. Chris and I went to Mass at 9 and then came home and made sweet potatoes (he makes the best) and lots of pies. At 3ish we all went to our good friends the Wells for Thanksgiving dinner - 30 people all together at their house. It was so nice to see them. We brought home pie - YIKES! We started watching Psycho (what a wonderful holiday film) but I forgot how boring it is in the beginning. Everyone has wandered away!

Our good friends the Whitehursts just called from Stanford where they're visiting their daughter. We usually spend Thanksgiving with them so they wanted us to know they were thinking of us. Thank you God for wonderful friends!

Thankful is definitely what I'm feeling today. God has blessed us abundantly. I am so grateful for our family, for our shared faith, for our extended families and how supportive and loving they are, for all the ways God has shown us his love this last year.

Sarah, Glenda, and Fares Oh My!

I saw Sarah today! I'm in NYC for a conference and she bussed (that's kissed isn't it?) bused into town from Phillie. We rode on the subway, shopped, went to dinner with my co-workers and then went to see the broadway play Wicked (about the Wicked Witch of the West and Glenda the Good Witch). Such fun.

Then we came back to Williams' corporate apartment (it has "Helmsley" in its name and we could all see why) and slept together in a Murphy twin bed and talked til we fell asleep.

Life is beautiful.

Wrestling a Mantilla

G'day, friends. I thought I would blog as my husband watches the Psycho remake. Why would someone want to remake a classic? I just peaked over and saw the scene where the policeman is stabbed at the top of the stairs. They used the same camera angle as Hitchcock. Now, if you don't think you can improve upon it, just don't do it.

Now for my title. Chris and I visited our wonderful Benedictine Monastery this weekend - only about 45 minutes away. I love this place. As we drive onto the property I feel as if I'm entering a chapel. Seeing sheep graze and an occasional monk walking with his hood on and head low, praying the day's liturgical prayers with about 30 men chanting Gregorian... priceless. I love it and I thank God for it.

But now for the mantilla. Most women wear mantillas for Mass. It's said in Latin and a lot of the people who go there could be considered what I call Rad-Trad (radical traditionalists). Well, I'm not a rad-trad and don't want to be, so during the four years we've been going to the monastery I've never worn a mantilla.

Well, this time I decided I would. I decided that there's a humility before God involved in covering one's head that can only be a good thing. I decided that I could really use that and so I wore a mantilla to express that desire to God. Well, you know what? It felt pretty darn good. And while I sat there soaking in the chant, I thought about how some of my resistance was due to the gender-thing. Why do women have to wear a hat? But then I remembered that when I was young, men had to remove their hats when they entered church. That was when men wore hats every day. They were asked to go "hat in hand" to God.

It's sad. Men don't have a way to express their humility before God anymore. It's funny how it all turned around in my mind. I found myself feeling sorry for them and wishing they could wear prayer shawls or something to experience the same thing I did the day I wrestled a mantilla and the mantilla won.

Steam, as in Blowing Off

The bishops of California are asking for contributions to cover the combined almost 1 billion dollars in sexual abuse settlements. No. That's what I would tell them. Did the laymen and women in the pews have anything to do with this horror? No. Do I feel that this is an unjust punishment for the church? No. Does the church need to reverberate with the impact of these financial blows to give it a fraction of the pain that was caused to these children? Yes. Let it reverberate. And yes, the financial impacts will cause much pain. Fewer people will be served. The dioceses where the most sin occurred will need to pare back to the bare bones. And that is how it should be. Pare back until you have left only what you started with - the people. And maybe then, dear leaders, you will appreciate the gift God blessed you with, the sheep God intended you to shepherd, to put first above church politics, clericalism, and fear of legal implications.

Sitting in a Forest of Cubes

I really should be working!!! It's Friday of Fall Break and I'm one of about 10 people on the whole floor. I've been reading emails, blogs and hoping 5:00 (or 3, or 2) comes quickly. Really, I haves tons to do and I want to take advantage of the quiet. But first let me say hello, have a lovely day, and "allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise, and love" - St. Theresa.

Colorado Meanderings

I'm sitting in the Grand Junction Colorado airport waiting for my flight home. Unfortunately, I've missed a whole day of Mary being home for Fall Break (finally a child who goes to college close enough to return home for visits!!!!). But she and I are going to go to Shades of Brown when I arrive in Tulsa to get some coffee and catch up on things.

The ride to the airport was gorgeous. Some mountains can be described as majestic. The mountains here are more cozy - they're rolling hills that look like they're covered with different colored and textured fabrics.

We have an hour to wait and I'm trying not to listen to every minute detail being blared on the TV about a student who shot teachers and students in Cleveland. I listened long enough to know no one died, but I feel bad when I ignore things like that. Why? I guess because if I ignore it, that means it's become common place. And it has, hasn't it?

Love you guys (uhhh, those I know, anyway)!!

Joy and Justice

Today was a joy-filled day. I don't know why, it was pretty hum-drum, but joy was in my heart.

Msgr gave an amazing homily today about our purpose in life - to know, love and serve God. After the Gospel was read, about the master who, rather than feeding the hungry servant who had just returned from the field, expected him to wait on those at the table, I turned to Chris and said, "I think this makes 3 difficult Gospels in a row!" (I had noticed a woman in front of me who seemed to be Muslim and I was hoping for a sermon about God's infinite love.)

Well, Monsignor didn't flinch. He drove right to the point, and it seemed that everyone there, including many children, were hanging on his every word. (We are so blessed.) And it was very timely for me because I had been thinking about this very thing lately. I seem way too casual about putting God off. He is love, goodness, mercy, wisdom... but he is also justice, awesome and fear-inspiring.

Like Sarah said, "it's not about me". And then she stopped. Because to put it into words doesn't at all do it justice.

OK, I'll Update....

I've received comments about not updating, so here goes...

I've had just delightful discussions with my kiddos over the last week or so. I just hung up with Sarah. The joy she was immersed in when she was with the Missionaries of Charity yesterday had spilled over into her life and she passed it along to me. I really needed it at the moment too. Thank you Sarah! See her blog for more detail on her wonderful day. She was able to meet Mother Teresa's replacement.

Please pray for Elizabeth as she adjusts to her Peace Corps assignment in Honduras. She loves it there, but it's been difficult at times. It's easier for me to see God work in my children's lives than in mine. I'm so confident of His love for them and how difficulties get woven into the tapestry of their lives as strengths. Chris and I were talking about it last night and said, "If there weren't difficulties she would return in 2 years the same Lizzie who went there, only with a deeper tan and better Spanish!"

Beautiful Letter

I read this beautiful letter to the editor in the USA Today when I was traveling this week:

Soldiers saved by fallen comrades should learn to just live

Kimberly Schliesmann - Chicago

I felt compelled to write to USA TODAY after reading the profoundly moving article about soldiers who sacrifice their safety and their lives so their comrades can live ("In Iraq, coping after a hero dies saving you," Cover story, News, Thursday).

I want to thank USA TODAY for this portrait of the sacrifice these soldiers have made. I also want to offer some words of comfort to those who have survived this kind of ordeal.

I was struck by how the survivors in the article talked of struggling to live lives "worthy" of the sacrificial act of their fellow soldiers. However noble this is, worthiness is not what these soldiers died for. They died not so that their fellow comrades could live an extraordinary life, but so that their comrades in arms could live through the ups and downs of the ordinary life we all live. They died because they loved their comrades.

I offer these words out of love and compassion. I also had someone die for me, though I was not there to witness it.

Jesus Christ died for me on the cross. Just like the surviving soldiers who think of their comrades every day, I think of Christ and his sacrifice every day. My life has changed because of my awareness, acceptance and gradual understanding of that sacrifice. I know I will never be worthy, but I know that is OK. I do my best to serve and love those around me because of the profound gratitude I feel toward Christ. I fail a lot, but I do my best. Accepting this has brought me peace and strength. Understanding that I could never really do anything worthy of such a profound sacrifice is humbling, but it is healthy.

I wish with all my heart that at some point, these soldiers will know that it is enough simply to live with gratitude.

God in Las Vegas

Who would've thunk it? The time here has been amazing. The highlight so far has been spending a fortune (at least to this cheapie) to go see Love - the Cirque de Soleil show based on Beatles songs. It was created by the founder of the Cirques who was a friend of George. It was fully supported by Paul, Ringo, Yoko and George's wife so I figured it would be well done.

What an absolute amazing show. Beauty, joy, right-in-the-center-of-it-all experience, wonderful memories, whimsy, innocence, love. When we walked out Ginger said she didn't mean to be sacrilegious, but she felt the same way she did when we left the monastery after our weekend visit. I fully understood - when art reaches a pinnacle it touches God. The experience was truly transcendent. Then to top it all off, as folks left the theater we all started singing spontaneously along to the "Get Back" song on the speaker.

I never thought I would say I was glad I came to Las Vegas!

See a snippet of it here.

Sin City Here I Come.

I'm so not thrilled about going to Las Vegas for a week - a seminar for work. I only went one time before (for work) and hated it. But the good news is I will be going to see Theresa on Friday and staying until Sunday. I'm REALLY looking forward to that. I'm also looking forward to seeing a Cirque de Soliel built around Beatles songs.
See the trailer here.

David? Are you out there? I answered your awkward comment in the Mother Teresa post :)

Tiny and Short

Sorry about the little tiny print on the Mother Teresa post. I'm not sure how to change that.

I'm at Nordaggio's so that Sarah can say goodbye to Amy before she leaves for college. I came home from work early to spend time with her before she leaves. All the kids seem to be right where God wants them. What a blessed peace that gives me. God is good.

Mother Teresa

The priest who published Mother Teresa's writings after she asked that he burn them - I was almost at the point of believing he had made a tragic mistake. The media cannot communicate anything effectively that is more profound than a sound bite. One of the reasons the Church is so often misunderstood is because she speaks in a way that is, although simple, very complex. So JPII is accused of being a prude when he asks husbands not to lust after their wives. Muslims kill a nun in response to the media's summary of Benedict's quote regarding Islamic violence. And Mother Teresa is perceived to be one abandoned by her Lover when her thoughts and writings are published.

Fortunately, the Time article seemed to grasp the foundational concept of the blessing called suffering. Here is another example of a great analysis from Mere Commensts

The world thought it knew her, and thought it could dismiss her charity with a smile at her naive belief and childish enthusiasm. But it cannot do that now, so it dismisses her by claiming her as one of its own -- not seeing that Mother Teresa's life looms as an even greater and more inexplicable mystery for those who say in their hearts, "There is no God."

It is not a mysterious thing, after all, that a young and enthusiastic person should become disillusioned after a month or two of the squalor of the Black Hole of Calcutta. People lose their faith all the time — and people gain their faith all the time, and often they are the same people. What is mysterious is that after her visions of Jesus ceased, after all the inner consolations were taken away, after the locutions, what my evangelical brethren call “words of knowledge,” fell silent, still Mother Teresa clung to Christ. She retained her faith without the emotional accompaniments (and here let married Christians take heed). She continued to serve the poor of Calcutta even though the nagging little viper at her shoulder must have whispered to her, constantly, “This is all absurd.” Let us be absolutely clear about this: outside of the ambit of Christian culture, no one goes to Calcutta. What Mother Teresa did, no one does, not even for a year, without having been influenced by the message and example of Christ. And to live there for good, no one does at all without the virtue of faith...

Here with Mother Teresa we have.. a great goodness united to quiet suffering, unspeakable patience, and a kind of bright and steely charity, for how easy would it have been for Mother to try to salve her sores by “sharing” her feelings with her fellow sisters? A worldly man may enter the Peace Corps because he “believes” in it and wishes to do good; he will not stay there one month after he has ceased to believe. Mother Teresa never ceased to believe, even in and through the silence.

Dubiety is inseparable from the human condition. We must waver, because our knowledge comes to us piecemeal, sequentially, in time, mixed up with the static of sense impressions that lead us both toward and away from the truth we try to behold steadily. The truths of faith are more certain than the truths arrived by rational deduction, says Aquinas, because the revealer of those truths speaks with ultimate authority, but they are less certain subjectively, from the point of view of the finite human being who receives them yet who does not, on earth, see them with the same clarity as one sees a tree or a stone or a brook. It should give us Christians pause to consider that when Christ took upon himself our mortal flesh, he subjected himself to that same condition. He did not doubt; His faith was steadfast; yet He did feel, at that most painful of moments upon the Cross, what it was like to be abandoned by God. He was one with us even in that desert, a desert of suffering and love. Nor did the Gospel writers — those same whom the world accuses on Monday of perpetrating the most ingenious literary and theological hoax in history, and on Tuesday of being dimwitted and ignorant fishermen, easily suggestible — refuse to tell us of that moment.

In her love of Christ — and the world does not understand Christ, and is not too bright about love, either — Mother Teresa did not merely take up His cross and follow him. She was nailed to that Cross with him. She was one with Him — it was His greatest and most terrible gift — at the moment when he cried out to His Father, and the worldly Jews beneath mistook the name of God for Elijah. We Christians must trust that she is also one with Him now too, sharing in the glory of His triumph over darkness and the grave. “See,” He says, encouraging us to persevere and be fearless, “I have overcome the world.”