Tag: faith

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Holy Week Reflections

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

LENTEN REFLECTIONS #34

As Holy Week begins, I’m reminded of how things have changed over the years. Growing up, Holy Week was a quiet time.

PREP:

Typically, we would have Thursday and Friday off from school and prep the menu for Easter Sunday, including ham, mashed potatoes, red chili (instead of gravy), and the other usual Thanksgiving/Easter suspects. Also, Mom’s pineapple salad made with cream cheese, Cool Whip, and crushed pineapple and topped with shiny maraschino cherries was a Dad-favorite. Aunt Eugenia’s finely chopped salad always made the list too – she was the aunt who rode motorcycles, brought her bird “Bonita” to visit, and played the accordion for Sunday mass. I’ve been told I have the same sharp-slanted nose as her.

HOLY THURSDAY

On Holy Thursday, as we loaded up the station wagon and headed to St. Anne’s, Dad would remind us that mass “would be a long one”. Typically, he would do the readings as a lector, and Mom would play the organ. I had a choice to either turn pages for Mom or try to sit still with my sisters for the two hours of feet washing and the Last Supper. Up the stairs, I climbed to the choir loft for my bird’s eye view.

GOOD FRIDAY

Under the cloudy Good Friday skies, we would attend services at 3:00 pm sharp every year. I still remember the cold, empty altar and solemn sentiment inside St. Anne’s Church. Mom reminded us, “This is the one day we don’t need to genuflect, and we don’t call it a mass. It’s a service.” She went on to explain why, and I said, “Ohhhh,” knowing I really wasn’t paying attention.

But back then, I knew I could ask her anything, anytime I needed to – that time of life when you think your parents are going to live forever and moments stand still like lighthouses shining bright.

HOLY SATURDAY, we buckled in for another “long one,” and I loved that mass. One Easter weekend, after Holy Saturday Mass, we visited my oldest sister at New Mexico State University. That was the year I gave up soda for Lent – even though we never had soda in the house except for Dad’s RC Cola. I remember going out for pizza right after mass and getting the coldest, most delicious Shirley Temple ever. It was served in one of those big red plastic cups with a fat straw. One of my favorite Holy Saturdays on record.

What I learned:

Over the years, my view of Lent became less soda and more sacrifice. In college, a friend of mine and I vowed to say a Rosary together every day. During the long drive to San Diego for spring break, we prayed, after going out with friends we prayed, and even before watching Shamoo jump through hoops, we prayed the Rosary. Yup. I was wild and crazy then, too.

Today, unless kids attend a school starting with the word “Saint,” it’s likely they will be in school during Holy Week. Even Good Friday. Because times are different. Holy Week just seemed holier back then. Calendars are filled with games, practices, and activities, with church fitting into the gaps. Like anything else, age readjusts the lens on what matters.

Lent is about sacrifice and love – giving the homeless water, really listening to a friend, praying for peace in our world, and realizing we all truly need each other.

Here’s to Another Good Day!

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Palm Sunday and First Holy Communion

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

Lenten Reflections #33

Every week after church, Dad asks if our church fills up. “It’s pretty full, Dad, but we have fewer churches here in Marietta,” I say every week. In fact, my hometown of Albuquerque has 32 parishes for the 37% of Catholics in the city. Meanwhile, in Marietta, Ga…there is a grand total of 4 Catholic churches to accommodate our 1% of Catholics. I cannot speak to the amount of practicing Catholics, but even for the Christmas-Easter crew, there are plenty of options to kneel and say an Ave or two.

Mom and Dad attend the 4:30 pm mass on Saturday evenings. Arriving late to church is very stressful for Mom, and arriving early to church is unheard of for Dad. I decided to choose my battles today and leave early (for mom) and drive slooooowly to church. Dad, whose driving speed from ages 14-86 could only be described as manic, noted my speed and said with a tinge of disappointment in his voice, “Wow, you really follow the speed limit.”

Cars zoomed past, and as we approached an intersection, we passed a dry, grassy field on fire, uncontained and spreading toward the road. We (Siri) called 911, and the fire department said they were on their way. Mom asked for the time, and I reassured her that we had 30 minutes to complete an 8-minute drive. As the firetruck passed, we finally pulled into a packed parking lot. I carefully (and slowly) squeezed our Honda between a huge SUV and a flashy Impala lowrider with gold rims.

When we opened the door to the Sanctuary, we were surprised to see the pews filling quickly. Not only was it Palm Sunday, but it was also First Communion for 17 kids. Concerned that Mom and Dad would get tired and hungry, I proactively gave Mom a mint, which calmed her, then leaned over and whispered to Dad that I bet God would let us leave early since we showed up for the rosary ahead of mass. Unrattled, they both sat patiently and sang along to the Spanish and English hymns, except when Mom plugged her ears because the guitar was just “too loud”.

First Holy Communion is a family event. This evening, pews were filled with extended families. Palms were craftily folded into crosses, babies were passed from row to row, and children were dressed with care – bows in place, tiny neckties straightened. The communicants all sat in the first two rows with pressed suits and snow-white dresses. Flowers dotted the girls’ hair, and boys stood proudly in their shined shoes. One by one, they walked, leading with their prayer hands as they received their First Holy Communion. Their parents and siblings beamed because it was a big deal. This sacrament truly is tremendous. As Catholics, we know that the Holy Eucharist is the origin of our faith. Pope Francis has called it the “Sacrament of Love”. He says, “The Eucharist is at the heart of ‘Christian initiation’, together with Baptism and Confirmation, and it constitutes the source of the Church’s life itself. From this Sacrament of love, in fact, flows every authentic journey of faith, of communion, and of witness.”

Pope Francis knows what he’s talking about. He’s a big deal.

What I learned:

I reminisced about our church in Marietta. Every Saturday before the final prayer, two elderly men meet the deacon at the foot of the altar, bow their heads, and receive a blessing and a pyx with care. A pyx is a handheld tabernacle that holds the Eucharist to provide spiritual nourishment for the homebound. Each week, I try to envision their situations, marvel at their kindness, and pray for their ongoing strength and hope.

Then I thought of every little lovely wavy-haired child whose dark eyes glistened after receiving the “Sacrament of Love”. I pray that every one of them will encounter extraordinary joy, grace, mercy, thanksgiving and communion on this side of eternity.

Here’s to Another Good Day!

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Planting Patience

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

Lenten Reflections #29

Yesterday, I asked a kindergarten class to share one highlight of their weekend. As we went around the circle, there were stories about lost teeth, the new Minecraft movie, sleepovers, lacrosse games won, and soccer goals missed.

When it was Gigi’s turn, she sat up a little higher on her knees. Her pensive, smiling blue eyes squinted as she announced loudly, “I planted seeds in my garden! Peas, tomatoes, lettuce, green beans, and peppers…but we need to wait patiently before they grow.” Gigi is five, and she understands patience.

Patience is a lost art. Like writing letters. Or phone calls. Or cursive.

When I grew up, patience meant waiting in line for confession every Saturday, the Albuquerque Journal in the morning, or Ted Koppel on the evening news. Patience was waiting for a cassette to rewind so you could listen to your favorite song again and for a TV special like “Charlie Brown’s Christmas” to air every 365 days. Patience was shaking a Polaroid picture to see the magic it brought.

According to Pamela Davis-Kean, a professor of psychology at the University of Michigan by age 6 or 7, kids begin understanding the concept of patience as they think about their own behavior and the consequences of their behavior.

Kids aren’t born with patience. It’s a quality they develop over time.

“We live in a social world, and we can’t have everything we want when we want it — that’s where patience and self-control come in,” says Pamela Cole, a professor of psychology and human development at Penn State. “The years between toddlerhood and kindergarten are critical for developing patience.”

So when I heard Gigi say she needed to wait for the seeds to grow, I felt grateful. Grateful for forbearance from a five-year-old and especially grateful for a renaissance of the ability to wait.

What I learned:

Sometimes, five-year-olds are more brilliant and cognizant of the world around them than the rest of us.

Go plant your garden!

“The day you plant the seed is not the day you eat the fruit. Be patient and stay the course.” —Fabienne Fredrickson

Here’s to Another Good Day.

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

8 Quotes about Renewal and Springtime

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

Lenten Reflections #28

Some days, I just need to read words from the wise. Today was one of them. So, I compiled a few to share with you. A reminder that although worry hangs over us like a pall, knowing that tomorrow will bring us renewed life is the power we need to move forward.

  1. “Through your deepest wound, Light enters.” – Rumi
  2. “There can be no renewal of our relationship with nature without a renewal of humanity itself.” — Pope Francis
  3. “There is a cleansing from winter darkness the moment we sink our fingers into spring’s fresh earth.” — Toni Sorenson
  4. “There is in us an instinct for newness, for renewal, for a liberation of creative power. We seek to awaken in ourselves a force which really changes our lives from within. And yet the same instinct tells us that this change is a recovery of that which is deepest, most original, most personal in ourselves. To be born again is not to become somebody else, but to become ourselves.” — Thomas Merton
  5. “One’s doing well if age improves even slightly one’s capacity to hold on to that vital truism: ‘This too shall pass.’” – Alain de Botton
  6. “Just like moons and like suns, With the certainty of tides, Just like hopes springing high, Still I’ll rise.” – Maya Angelou
  7. “I would rather be ashes than dust! I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry-rot. I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet. The proper function of man is to live, not to exist. I shall not waste my days in trying to prolong them. I shall use my time.” – Jack London
  8. “In the study of the Way, each day something is dropped. Less and less do you have to force things, until finally, you arrive at the place of non-action, where nothing is forced, and nothing remains undone.” – Lao Tzu

What I learned:

Words are transformative.

Here’s to Another Good Day.

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Finding Faith through Stories

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

40 Lenten Reflections – #24

Years ago, on any given weekend, our 14-year-old son was typically riding bikes, exploring the woods, and climbing trees with a friend. One Saturday, he came home from the trails and told us a tree fell on him. Thankfully, his friend was able to lift it off as it was a small, older pine tree. He wore his bike helmet, so luckily, he only had a few scratches on his face and legs. On Monday at school, a classmate asked about the mark on his face. So, our son shared his story.

“So, do you have a video of it?” a boy asked.

“No video,” our son replied.

“Well then…it didn’t happen.” The boy said flatly.

They debated back and forth, and finally, our son, a professional selective listener, confirmed, “Yes, it did happen.” He then moved on, ignoring further hassle.

At bedtime, he told me this story, and we sat and picked it apart like old layers of paint peeling off a wall, trying to find the original color.

What happened to imagination and faith?

The boy’s need for documentation was testimony that technology negotiates our day with swipes, texts, and posts. We click pictures of our meals and memories, shorten words, and deliver messages as fast as our thumbs can go. Conversations dwindle with our busy lives, as does the age-old craft of storytelling. This is exactly what our son was doing.

As young children, there’s an unwavering faith in stories.

Maurice Sendak takes us to a wild rumpus and faithfully floats us home with Max as he arrives home to his warm dinner.

Faith in friendship is palpable when Charlotte sits in her web and says: “You have been my friend. That in itself is a tremendous thing. I wove my webs for you because I liked you. After all, what’s a life, anyway? We’re born, we live a little while, we die. A spider’s life can’t help being something of a mess, with all this trapping and eating flies. By helping you, perhaps I was trying to lift up my life a trifle. Heaven knows anyone’s life can stand a little of that.”
― E.B. White, Charlotte’s Web

Faith requires vulnerability. Stripping the need for that which is tangible.

In “Yes, Virginia There is a Santa Claus” Francis Church interprets faith in his editorial in The New York Sun in 1897: “You tear apart the baby’s rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart.” When Mr. Church referred to “the skepticism of a skeptical age” in the story, he was speaking to grown-ups and the dwindling of religious faith among middle-class Americans in the 19th century. Faith in faith.

Now, that doubt cloaks children, too.

What I learned:

We make an emotional investment with every story we tell. Some may believe that if a tree falls on a boy in a forest, it’s true, but doubters will question and want video proof. The vital action is to tell the story, be the raconteur, and propel your listeners on a journey of faith.

Lenten Challenge: Keep story-telling alive!

Here’s to Another Good Day!

Thanks for joining me on my storytelling journey and having faith in me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Empathy is what makes us human

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

LENTEN REFLECTIONS #23

Empathy is in the news today. Chatter about how to eliminate it.

Eliminate a feeling?

Just backspace seven times and delete a feeling. Nope. Not today. Not ever.

We teach empathy in schools. It’s the right thing to do.

I did a little research and discovered some interesting facts:

  1. According to Psychology Today, empathy is the ability to recognize, understand, and share the thoughts and feelings of another person, animal, or fictional character. Developing empathy is crucial for establishing relationships and behaving compassionately. It involves experiencing another person’s point of view, rather than just one’s own, and enables prosocial or helping behaviors that come from within, rather than being forced.
  2. Individuals with narcissistic personality disorder (NPD) typically show a lack of empathy.
  3. In Hitler’s book Mein Kampf, he reveals his extreme views and hatred, which are often seen as indicative of a lack of empathy.
  4. Brené Brown has a clever video on the difference between empathy and sympathy. EMPATHY V SYMPATHY
  5. In his sermon on July 1, 2018, Rev. David Justin Lynch from St. Cecilia’s Church in California talked about Jesus and said, “He wept at the tomb of Lazarus, sharing the grief of the family of Lazarus before restoring Lazarus to life. When the disciples of Jesus showed a lack of empathy by repelling children from Jesus, He rebuked them and welcomed the children to him with open arms. That Jesus esteemed empathy as a laudable human trait can also be seen from a situation where he was invited to dinner at the home of a Pharisee. There, a woman anointed the feet of Jesus with expensive oil, and dried them with very long hair. The Pharisees criticized Jesus for wasting expensive oil and allowing a woman they deemed a sinner to touch him. Jesus responded that, unlike the Pharisee who had invited him to dinner, the woman empathized with the tired condition of his feet by kissing and anointing them, and that she was a better host than the Pharisee was. Jesus recognized the value of her empathy when He told her that her sins, whatever they might have been (scripture doesn’t tell us), were forgiven, and to go in peace.”

What I learned:

Empathy is here to stay. Without it, we are empty, egocentric vessels.

Hold on to your true self. Honestly, grasp it with both hands and don’t let go.

Here’s to Another Good Day.

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

The blossom, like life, is fleeting

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

Lenten Reflections #17

While walking in Marshalls Store today, I passed by an elderly woman and saw she had a bright pink cherry blossom wreath in her basket.

“What a beautiful wreath!” I told her.

“It is, isn’t it?” She agreed.

I went on to say the wreath would brighten up any space.

“It’s for my daughter’s grave,” she said, wilting a little. “She died one year ago, and since her tombstone hasn’t been placed yet, I thought I would find a way to use this to dress it up.”

“It’s absolutely perfect,” I said. She went on to tell me her husband also died just three weeks shy of their 75th anniversary, at age 100 and 6 months.

“That’s the way life is,” she continued. I leaned in a little, thinking she was about to give me the secret to what life “is,” but instead, she stared at the flowers on the wreath.

I remembered my years in DC, where the cherry blossom trees define spring and renewal. After a few weeks, the delicate petals on the trees float off, symbolizing the impermanence of our fleeting lives.

As our conversation slowed, she said, ” I’m 95 years old.”

“What a blessing!” I said.

“Sometimes I’m not sure if it is or not.” She said, her voice tired.

“So nice talking to you,” I said…and God bless you…The wreath really is — absolutely perfect.”

She smiled, touched my arm, gave it a mom squeeze, and continued pushing her basket toward the clothing section where her caretaker waited.

What I learned:

My five-minute conversation with one kind, elderly woman was priceless to me, as were the connections we made. I pray she will find peace.

I also pray that maybe someone stop in and chat with my parents when they are out and about. They won’t be at Marshalls, but maybe Goodwill, Trader Joe’s, a yard sale, or the Commissary. Sharing a moment with someone and listening to their stories is lubrication for the soul.

Here’s to Another Good Day!

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Who’s on your prayer list?

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

Lenten Reflections #14

While at Publix Grocery Store, I struggled to read the back of an oat milk bottle (holding it as far away as my arm would reach), and a neighbor stopped to say hi. “I have to do the same thing,” she said laughing at my squinting. Mrs. Ross lives right around the corner from us but I honestly think the last time I saw her was in the same dairy aisle months ago. Her home overlooks the playground down the street and when we began sending our kids off to play on their own, I imagined Mrs. Ross would watch over them like a guardian angel the same way our neighbor across the street would when our kids walked to the bus stop alone. It truly takes a village and ours is stellar.

We chatted for a bit about the kids and how time flies. “It really does fly,” we agreed. We spoke about time flying as if we were the first to coin the catchy cliche. As the conversation ended, she said, “Before you go, my mom is turning 99 in August. Please pray she makes it to that day so we can have a party for her 100th!” Of course!

So I added her mom to my mental prayer list which also includes our dear friend who is aching for some relief from his cancer, and the seven-year-old at school whose hair is growing in so beautifully after her recurring cancer. I also prayed for peace in Ukraine and Gaza, the Pope, our dogs’ arthritic legs, and a successful college year-end for our three kids. Then for the good of the order, I used the script from my childhood God bless list: “And everyone in the whole wide world”. Never hurts.

What I learned:

Pray for them all.

Also, oat milk is just water, oats, and sea salt. And it tastes like water.

Here’s to Another Good Day,

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

One word to stop using…

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

40 Reflections – #5:  40 days of raw recollections during the Lenten Season

Ever wake up, glance at the clock, and say, “I SHOULD have gotten up earlier” only to follow it up with “I SHOULD have gone to the gym, prepped dinner, called my parents, run with the dogs, played with the kids, or checked the pockets for that pen before I tossed everything in the wash?”

The “S” word is verifiably toxic, yet to avert our gaze away from what our lives would look like if we accomplished all of the SHOULDS is nearly impossible. Haven’t you marveled at the early birds who amble into work chatting about their early morning run, seamless commute, or the dinner menu they prepared for the month?

Let’s ditch the SHOULD have narrative with three easy tips:

  1. BE YOURSELF:  Change the lens through which you see yourself, and celebrate who you are and where you are today.
  2. ACCEPT AND ALLOW:  Your reality may be vacant of the plans you slated for yourself years ago, but by clutching onto the people we love, our SHOULD HAVE world dissipates. Some say, “Let go, Let God” It’s worth a shot.
  3. SET YOUR INTENTIONS: Our deepest hopes are shaped by our intentions. Step out of the noise, serve others, find your passion, and share it!

What I learned:

When our minds harp on these unaccomplished actions, we sadly allow the present moment to circle the drain. All of the should haves coupled with regret keep popping up. I run low on forgiveness – mostly towards myself and allowing the “Did Not Do” list to ruin my day. I have heard that forgiveness is our work on earth. So let’s start with ourselves and those around us. Celebrate the now and keep moving forward.

DIG DEEP:  On your next run or walk, bring a friend, and you do the listening.

Please Pray for the Pope…he’s improving.

Thank you for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Parenting Connections – Why is bonding so beneficial?

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

40 Reflections – #3:  40 days of raw recollections during the Lenten Season

When our children were younger, I would accompany them to birthday parties, playdates, practices, and other events and watch, wait, and chat with other parents. I loved connecting, it was like I would imagine the old Eharmony but for parents. A time to find your tribe of trusted moms and dads, then ever-so-carefully pick a few who relate to your cheeky humor, and pray your kids and theirs are in the next room bonding over a juice box.

As our kids aged, I noticed parents would leave these events, and return at the “pick-up time”.  I always opted to stay, plopping down on the ground, cherishing my chats with the few other parents who would sit in their comfy cup-holding canvas chairs (such a great invention).  Sure, sometimes, I was the mom who brought a book that other parents respectfully knew meant – whoever holds the book has just put themselves in a quiet, parental time out, a virtual “do not disturb sign”. That was rare. I needed to chat, commiserate about the losses, and celebrate the wins.

As the kids got a little older there was another shift. Either I grew more confident (or less patient waiting) and would go for a run while they practiced. As long as I was within a mom’s stone’s throw between them, I felt I could still get to them and perform CPR as needed. Of course, I was always happy to get in a run, but I missed the parent-share conversations… those words exchanged between parents that only the gap of time when our children are engaged with their friends allowed.

One night, all three of our children had events simultaneously, and a tough moment ensued.  Clearly, we had to pick our least favorite child, leave them at their designated practice, and accompany the others.

Kidding. Our eldest was the default, and since some nights I was the lone mom hanging out for the two hours at swim practice anyway, I figured she’d be okay while I took our son to baseball practice. As I drove away, of course thinking the worst, it was one of the few times I was grateful our daughter had a phone. Plus, at baseball, there were other helicopter parents like myself to share best practices, a clear bonus. It all worked out.

What I learned:

Our children’s activities, whether we realize it or not, give us a chance to pause and discover we are not the only ones bouncing around blindly in this parenting pinball game. While our kids solidify their friendships at birthday parties or discover they truly despise dancing in toe shoes (my daughter), we are given the gift of connection to share our stories with other parents and listen to theirs.

Back then, I remembered feeling the weight of parenting lightened knowing I wasn’t the only parent who…

  • yelled at my children and regretted it profoundly seconds after
  • colored my gray roots at home out of a box
  • cursed at Siri when she doesn’t listen
  • never checked pockets before doing laundry
  • considered cereal dinner
  • took apart the washing machine, found the penny bonking around, and ended up with extra screws when reassembling
  • stayed up way too late listening to our children’s worries that only bubbled up at bedtime
  • wiped the tears from our children’s eyes, and our own when their hearts were broken
  • prayed our children would find their best friend
  • forgot to pick up their child at school/practice/Sunday School
  • delivered their child’s forgotten homework to school
  • bought bras at Costco (“one size fits most”)
  • panicked about working after years of staying home with the kids
  • clutched onto their children –  as someone who is way too young died in a car accident, from a health complication, or God forbid — inside their school.

Our children are now all in college, but the bonds with those parents from the little league field, mountain biking trails, pool, and dance studio have stayed strong. Simply allowing ourselves to be transparent, and investing in relationships makes us better parents. It takes pluck to be vulnerable, but there is courage in the imperfect, strength in sharing, and certainty in the uncertain.

Dig Deep:  Time your run (or walk briskly), then challenge yourself to do the same thing faster tomorrow.

Lenten Challenge:  “Give feet to your faith”. Feed the hungry, pray for the sick, and share your grace with everyone who crosses your path.

Pope Health Update: VATICAN CITY, March 7 (Reuters) – Three weeks to the day after being admitted to Rome’s Gemelli hospital, Pope Francis is still struggling to shake off the double pneumonia that has battered his already fragile health.

Please pray for the Pope.