I’ve been married 25 years, and I brought a couple of small pets into marriage that died before we’d even had children. We had a…
3 CommentsRelevant Fiction for Body & Soul
Tag: faith
Jesus said to him [Thomas], “I am the way, and the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father, but by me.”
John 14:6
These words from John’s Gospel couldn’t be simpler. the way, the truth, and the life.
Seven simple words.
Despite the many distractions created by my children, these words and their implications burrowed into my mind and heart at Adoration last month.
During the same hour, they stared up at me from the pages of St. Teresa of Avila’s Interior Castle. Then again in a scripture quote in Totus Tuus.
I’m accustomed to not hearing from God very often, whether due to His taciturn way of dealing with me or my own failure to listen, I can’t say. I suspect it’s a bit of both. Either way, I’m quite accustomed to it. That this little verse could move me so deeply, nearly to tears, was highly unordinary and remarkable.
For several minutes, I felt a tiny, infintessimally small fraction of Jesus’s sorrow. His sorrow at our rejection of those words:
“I am the way, and the truth, and the life.”
We’ve replaced those words with something more akin to:
The My Way, the My Truth, and the My Life
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There’s nothing quite like unrequited love. It’s a different kind of heartbreak than that from a breakup, I think. I know of what I speak, starting with my one-sided affair with Speed Racer.
One of my one-sided loves had a strength and staying power I’d not anticipated.
In a move totally out of character, fueled by I don’t know what–desperation?– I confessed my feelings. In writing, of course, not in person. I said “out of character,” not momentary insanity.
Of course, the verbal insanity confession would have at least produced instant results. In the days when remote communication happened via either written word or the family landline telephone, response time lagged.
4 CommentsEvery now and then I feel a little world-weary. I’m sure you’ve felt it too. The ol’ Come Soon, Lord Jesus-weary, if you know what I…
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Every January, we commit.
We commit to exercise more and eat healthier. We resolve to have the best year ever at work. And yet, we neglect the essential part—our spiritual connection with Jesus.
Some people have the same reaction to the term “spiritual goals” as they do to the word “budget”! Begrudgingly, we settle for the more-easily-said-than-done, simple fixes. If you ask a friend how they’re going to improve their spiritual relationship with Christ this year, they may give you one of these examples:
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Christmas. The lights. The sparkle. Pittsburgh actually dubbed the run-up to Christmas as Sparkle Season at one point. And that it is.
I scroll through Instagram and see cozy homes lit by fire glow. Magnificent trees and Christmasy home décor. Gifts, gifts, and gifts galore.
Families with twice as many children as I do have carefully observed every Advent practice and feast culminating in a languid and joy-filled celebration of the 12 Days of Christmas straight through Epiphany and on to Candlemas Day. I know because they document it in posts and stories.
In my weaker moments, I’m tempted to envy. In my too-small house with growing children and shrinking income, my celebration doesn’t compare. Theirs teems with Christmas revelry, ours brims with clutter.
A grateful heart is the best antidote. But a discerning eye also reminds me that all is not what it may seem.
2 CommentsBy most standards, my mother didn’t accomplish anything noteworthy in her 91 years.
She came from a Depression-era household, a row home filled by her parents and 10 siblings. They spoke one language.
She didn’t finish high school.
Once she had her first child at age 28, she was never employed again.
My mother was married only once, for 50 years. She bore four children, and buried one.
Ten miles was about the limit of how far she’d drive from her home. I don’t recall her ever driving in the city. The farthest west she traveled was Illinois, and she never left the lower 48 states.
She never posted a single thing on social media. In fact, she never owned a cell phone or used a computer.
Her home was decorated simply; the only wall decorations I recall are a crucifix and a mirror. At Christmas, we added matching Styrofoam Santa heads and a beer can wreath. At least until Home Interiors and Gifts found her in the 1980s.
Over a few days greeting her friends and family at the funeral home this summer, her legacy become clear:
She baked.
7 CommentsBy Guest Blogger Billie Jauss
I’m feeling old. “Life flies by so fast.” I hear myself saying this more and more often now that I am ‘over 50’ and my baby boy just turned 21 and is heading into his junior year of college. It seems that I have seen a lot of the past flash by in front of me. Panic creeps deep into my spirit. I become focused on the past and what I think I have lost, not the truth of who I am. I focus on me, not on Jesus.
The yearning to change my focus sent me on a spiritual journey to rectify my panic, my selfish spotlight. Being a consummate list maker, I began to list the positive truths of who I am now.
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