Tag: faith

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.

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Cultivating Selflessness

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

#2 Lenten Reflections

The other day I was waiting to board my flight to Atlanta and overheard an anxious young woman discuss her seat location with her husband. She held a frothy coffee in one hand and phone in the other, and nervously said, “The agent said I’d have to wait until I was on the plane to change seats. I let her know I just can’t sit in an exit row. Not with all the recent flight accidents. It’s not my turn, I am not the person to sit in that seat…not this time.” I watched as her husband sat silently, nodding in agreement.

I settled into the comfy, leather-like seat at the Albuquerque airport and pondered her words. “It’s not my turn.” I applauded her honesty and clarity in knowing what she could and could not handle. But when is it our turn? When do we raise our hands to help another, give the Heimlich maneuver to someone choking, or save the child running into the road? Are some people just innately selfless?

Richard Lui, is a journalist and author of  Enough About Me: The Unexpected Power of Selflessness where he explored self-sacrifice as he cared for his father with Alzheimer’s. Along with practicing acts of kindness and showing gratitude, Lui recommends building selflessness muscles. Muscle memory is what helps us remember how to swing a bat or ride a bike. So training your brain to choose others over yourself will build up your selflessness muscles.

My Connection…

Years ago, one of my three older sisters retired from her job after 30 years as a software engineer to care for our parents. She didn’t take a big trip around the world to celebrate her successful career or become a master gardener, she and her husband simply sold their home and moved closer to Mom and Dad. All four of us pitch in, but as the primary caretaker, she is the driver, the contact for the doctors, the shopper, the organizer, the constant in their lives that brings them the comfort of knowing they can make it through today and tomorrow. I have never known someone so incredibly selfless and generous. There are 53 million Americans who are caretakers in the United States, and she is one of those saints who has a special place in heaven just for her.

So whether you’re ready to brave the exit row today or on your next flight, give a little bit of yourself.

Pope Health Update: According to the Vatican, he “remained stable compared to previous days” and did not have “episodes of respiratory insufficiency”. Please pray for him.

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

40 Days – Journeying together

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

Lenten Reflections #1

Nine years ago, I decided to ditch giving up chocolate or coffee during Lent and instead, track my 40 days right here. Since then, I’ve shared little snippets of life – the messy, funny, daunting, and unpredictable moments I experience or observe. My hope is that anyone who reads this will connect and learn something on the journey because people’s stories spark emotion, and emotion sparks memory, and if you’re like me, my memory needs as much spark as it can get.

As I begin Lent each year, I am inspired by the words of Pope Francis, who, as of today, is in stable condition and will be put back on a ventilator tonight after spending the day in his armchair.

So as I prayed for him, I found his Lenten message focused on journeying together tender and true:

“Journeying together means consolidating the unity grounded in our common dignity as children of God (cf. Gal 3:26- 28). It means walking side-by-side, without shoving or stepping on others, without envy or hypocrisy, without letting anyone be left behind or excluded. Let us all walk in the same direction, tending towards the same goal, attentive to one another in love and patience. This Lent, God is asking us to examine whether in our lives, in our families, in the places where we work and spend our time, we are capable of walking together with others, listening to them, resisting the temptation to become self-absorbed and to think only of our own needs.”

Let’s start this journey and focus on what brings us joy, what drives us crazy, and what brings tears to our eyes. Personally, some days I feel like I’m the only one whose back hurts every time I stand up or am the lone mom whose nest is empty, and I just want to bring them all back and hear the laughter or yelling or random singing in the shower. I know I’m not alone, and neither are you.

So, here we go. Forty days, full speed ahead!

Thanks for being here with me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Hello Darkness My Old Friend

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

#40 Lenten Reflections

Yesterday evening at mass, no lights were on in the church for the 6:00 pm Easter Vigil. After years of arriving too early to this marathon (yet beautiful) mass, we got there at the top of the hour. I scooted up to the least popular first and second rows to see if the empty seats were being saved. Much to my family’s chagrin they were open so I waved them up like a professional Catholic usher and they slithered up, grateful the lights were off.

As we settled in the dark church, confirmation candidates lined up and parents tried to entertain antsy children. I imagined this dim scene was similar to the darkness of the closed-up tomb where Jesus’ body lay on Holy Saturday. A big round stone propped in front of it. Not a sliver of light entered. A dark void.

DARKNESS

Along with Helen Reddy’s, I Am Woman Hear Me Roar, Simon and Garfunkel’s song, The Sound of Silence could be my mom’s theme song. The darkness is her old friend. Mom can walk from the bedroom, across the house to the bathroom, so as to not wake Dad, get water, and empty any stray Tupperware in the dish rack without touching a switch. She knows the path, never stumbles and has faith in her every step. There is strength in the darkness for her. As a younger mom, she spoke her mind, feared little, and was fiercely independent. Like all of us, as she ages, she has become more fragile physically and mentally, but spiritually, she maintains a robust soul with an unshakable faith in God.

Darkness and I don’t get along. That dusky evening time people love sends uneasy despair in me and I flip every light in the house on, dimmers way up. I guess it’s the middle moment when the darkness steals the light and shuttles my mind off to places and times when fear was at the helm so I push through and control what I can. Light switches.

Perhaps for all of us there are days we too sit in this utterly dark space, the walls of our mind closing in on us. Unsure of what tomorrow will bring or why today was filled with angst. Holy Saturday is a reminder of our reality. The beginning and the end. The alpha and the omega. The darkness and the light.

Some evenings fear is consuming when the darkness arrives. Then I remember, fear is normal. Fear needs breath. Someone said, “Courage is fear that has said its prayers.” So I think of Mom, embrace courage, stare darkness in the face, and see who blinks first.

My Prayer:

I often think, that if I could pass a little Post-It Note on to God about my writing, I would say, “Please let my stories help others realize they are not alone on this epic journey you’ve given us. Help me to offer them a little laugh, a strong connection, and a chunk of hope when all of it is just too much. Amen.

As I write my 40th post outside on a beautiful Easter Day, a bird just pooped on my head. I heard it’s good luck and I refuse to think otherwise.

Thanks for joining me,

❤️Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

The doorbell rang…

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

#36 Lenten Reflections

Growing up in the 1970s, we were taught to take cover if the doorbell rang when mom and dad weren’t home. We all had hiding spots (mine was under the pine dining room table behind the leaves that hung over like big basset hound ears).

There was one exception when all of us – including Mom and Dad played along. If someone over 65 knocked on the door all dressed up in the middle of a dry, 90-degree NM summer day wearing uncomfortable shoes, we knew they were selling encyclopedias or religion. Mom made it clear WE HAD BOTH and did not need to answer the door, so the whole family scurried as if we were prepping for a surprise party. 

I was reminded about this about ten years ago when Dexter said, “Mama, why are there a bunch of “grandparenty” people parked outside?”

Since Justin and I trained our kids to also hide from anyone at the door when they were younger (pre-Ring Doorbells) one of our boys whisper-yelled, “Here comes an old man to our door! Hide!!” I walked to the door with ease. Luckily the dogs were outside or their incessant barking and jumping would have scared their souls enough to make them sprint away in their church shoes. I confidently said, “Stay put, I’ve got this.”  

Earlier that morning, I read Fr. Barron’s “Holy Saturday – Grain of Wheat” essay to the kids who pretended they were listening as they bustled around saying, “Yup, we heard it at church last Sunday.” It’s a great lesson about how a seed will only grow once it falls to the ground and breaks open. He says, “To understand what all this means, we should go back to the grain of wheat that falls to the earth. A seed’s life is inside, yes, but it’s a life that grows by being given away and mixing with the soil around it. It has to crack open, be destroyed.”

My interpretation:

So we have to break open, die a little, and fall a lot to truly reap the juicy fruit of life.

What the heck, I thought, I’ll talk to these people, they are just trying to spread some seeds around. I pulled down the screen to our storm door and greeted our visitors. One of the women commented on what a clever door it was – I agreed — as it has been perfect for visiting with other people and “spreading the word” — not only about God, but about the weeds in our front yard, or our windows that should be replaced for a small fortune. At the time, she noted that yesterday was Good Friday, and I said, “Yes, and today is Holy Saturday.”

“Oh, you sound like someone who really knows about Jesus.”

I didn’t want to truly show off and announce Easter was the following day, so I proudly said, “Yes Ma’am”. She was very kind, but I was on a schedule…I mean I hadn’t even worked out yet, and we still needed to color eggs…which should be part of the whole wheat lesson – lose the gluten and boil some eggs! The important Holy Week items that are too often placed on the back burner!

I did follow up with:

“I was just reading some of Father Barron’s writing.”

“Oh, then this information I’m giving you will just be a refresher for you.” She said kindly.

So I opened the door.  And in a smooth, methodical sweep of her hand, she slipped me “the information” through the crevice of the door.  I would have opened the door even more, but it seemed as if the amount of space I allowed was what she was used to…just a crack…enough to fit the 8 x 8 flier through, let a little light in, and share a moment.

“Have a Blessed Easter,” I said, and off they went to our neighbor’s home across the street.  We all watched as they also slipped the flier through the 2-inch space allowed through our neighbor’s door. 

“Who was it?”  The kids asked, “What did they give you?”

“They gave us information about their beliefs and why they pray.”

“Well, who do they pray to?” The sun shone through the open front door. “Their Jesus”.

“Okay, when do we color eggs?”

That was it. Our Evangelic moment for the day. 

A beautiful day to spread little grains of wheat and watch them grow. Yet another reminder that we are more alike than different.

Thanks for joining me,

❤️Lucretia