Tag: jesus

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Passover, Seder, and Frogs?

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

Lenten Reflections #37

“I am FULL Jewish,” said Josie, a bright, six-year-old who is more faith-driven than most grown adults.

She asked if she could share a little about Passover with the class.

She sat straight up and began, “Today is the first day of Passover. It represents God leading his people out of Egypt. It’s called Passover because the angel of death passed over. Back then, they used to have a lamb leg; it was a lamb that you had to love for a lot of days, but then you had to kill it, eat it, and then put its blood on your doorpost, or else the firstborn would die. And um…this person, I forgot his name, but this person who used to live in Egypt, killed someone, then he ran away. God came through a burning bush, and the bush was all fine. He told Joseph to lead his people there.”

Josie continued, “We’re also going to do something really fun with frogs!”

Class was ending, so we missed the story of the frogs, but intrigued, I did a little research on the amphibian and how it fit into Josie’s Passover explanation.

Biblically speaking, frogs were the second of 10 divine plagues unleashed upon Egypt when the Pharaoh refused to free the Hebrews from slavery. Throughout history, the frog symbolizes the liberation struggle—the very liberation Jews celebrate on Passover.

God told Moses, “Behold, I hear the cry of the children of Israel. I have surely remembered you and seen what is done to you. And now I will put forth my hand and smite Egypt with signs and with wonders. Go tell Pharaoh, Let My people go!”Moses told Pharaoh, “Let My people go!” But Pharaoh said no. So God sent ten awful plagues to punish the Egyptians and to teach Pharaoh that only God is God.

After turning the water in all of Egypt’s rivers, streams, and ponds into blood, God said, “Let My people go!” That’s when the frogs hopped into the kitchen ovens where bread is baked. Then God sends gnats, flies, locusts, darkness, and finally the killing of the firstborn, as young Josie mentioned. Finally, Pharaoh freed them from slavery. (Our Beautiful Passover Seder Table and Frogs)

Josie went on to say she’s super lucky because she will be the child to ask the four questions at the Passover Seder meal. A true honor.

Here they are:

How is this night different from all other nights?

On all other nights, we eat chametz (leavened foods) and matzah. Why on this night, only matzah?

On all other nights, we eat all vegetables. Why, on this night, maror (bitter herbs)?

On all other nights, we don’t dip even once. Why on this night do we dip twice?

She told us the story beautifully, now she just has to memorize the questions in Hebrew! If any six-year-old can do it, it’s Josie.

What I learned:

Jewish children are immersed in their religion, culture, and education. The Seder is a prime example of a time when they are encouraged to ask questions, think critically, and explore their beliefs. The pride Josie has for who she is and where she came from is remarkable. What a gift.

Thanks for joining me.

I’m so glad you’re here,

🙂 Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

“He does not listen to the prayers of those who wage war…” – Pope Leo

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

Lenten Reflections #35 – Holy Week

Let’s start this Holy Week with the words of our dear Pope Leo:

“This is our God: Jesus, King of Peace, who rejects war, whom no one can use to justify war. He does not listen to the prayers of those who wage war, but rejects them, saying: “Even though you make many prayers, I will not listen: your hands are full of blood” (Is 1:15).

In his homily on Sunday, Pope Leo referenced a Bible passage in which Jesus, about to be arrested ahead of his crucifixion, rebuked one of his followers for striking the ⁠person arresting ​him with a sword.

“(Jesus) did not arm himself, or ​defend himself, or fight any war,” Leo said. “He revealed the gentle face of God, who always rejects violence. Rather than saving ​himself, he allowed himself to be nailed to the cross.”

What I learned:

These are the words of our Pope. He’s got connections. He’s smart. Listen to him. Steer towards peace. Keep hope and joy alive through prayer for all of those boots that should not be on the ground.

Here is a Prayer for Peace by Pope Francis:

Lord God of peace, hear our prayer!

We have tried so many times and over so many years to resolve our conflicts by our own powers and by the force of our arms. How many moments of hostility and darkness have we experienced; how much blood has been shed; how many lives have been shattered; how many hopes have been buried… But our efforts have been in vain.

Now, Lord, come to our aid! Grant us peace, teach us peace; guide our steps in the way of peace. Open our eyes and our hearts, and give us the courage to say: “Never again war!”; “With war everything is lost”. Instill in our hearts the courage to take concrete steps to achieve peace.

Lord, God of Abraham, God of the Prophets, God of Love, you created us and you call us to live as brothers and sisters. Give us the strength daily to be instruments of peace; enable us to see everyone who crosses our path as our brother or sister. Make us sensitive to the plea of our citizens who entreat us to turn our weapons of war into implements of peace, our trepidation into confident trust, and our quarreling into forgiveness.

Keep alive within us the flame of hope, so that with patience and perseverance we may opt for dialogue and reconciliation. In this way may peace triumph at last, and may the words “division”, “hatred” and “war” be banished from the heart of every man and woman. Lord, defuse the violence of our tongues and our hands. Renew our hearts and minds, so that the word which always brings us together will be “brother”, and our way of life will always be that of: Shalom, Peace, Salaam!

Amen.

Thanks for joining me.

I’m so glad you’re here,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Laughter in church is a Godsend

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

Lenten Reflections #12

March 2, 2026

It was “One final announcement” time at the end of mass – that moment when everyone is planning their next move. But the elderly congregation at my childhood church is settled. This is their destination. They arrived 20 minutes early to recite the Rosary and the Memorare. They kneel, sit, and stand gingerly and devoutly, and are settled in the pews where they sit every Saturday evening. Same row, same kneeler, same well-worn pine showing generations of worshippers. My own parents move methodically to “their row” each week, led by muscle memory, devotion, faith.

As the small, joyful woman made her way up to the altar, she was like a bright light in the form of a five-foot nun from the Philippines. She was from the Little Sisters of the Poor.

After a sermon I do not remember (though in the middle of it I did wonder if priests ever use ChatGPT)… we all sat on the edge of our pews, eager to hear what she had to say.

She began with a pun, “Father Nick asked me to keep my speech short…he must not have noticed I’m already short.” The congregation loved her immediately. She went on to tell us about the services the Little Sisters provide. “For nearly 200 years, our order has welcomed the elderly poor and dying into our homes as we would welcome Christ Himself.”

Wow, I thought, sitting next to my elderly parents, what a blessing.

She went on to tell us they have homes where they serve people in over 30 countries and 20 in the U.S.providing personalized care, with sisters living on-site.

With a huge smile on her face, she said, “But to keep things short for Father Nick, I’ll just say, YOU PAY! I PRAY!” Laughter filled the cavernous church. Levity. Something our aging church had not had within the brick walls for years. I feel like even Jesus on the cross gave a little Mona Lisa smile.

Her voice slowed, becoming more measured, “We take turns sitting and praying with the dying.” She said. “As a young nun, I would take my turn and pray. But I was so nervous…” She went on, “My prayer was always: Please don’t die during my shift. Please wait for the next sister’s shift.” She smiled, the congregation laughed, and then told us she finally learned how special and sacred it is to bear witness to someone leaving this world.

She closed by saying in her lively voice, “For those girls who are interested in becoming a Little Sister, we have your veils waiting in the Narthex.” More laughter followed.

What I Learned:

As Sister Maria walked down the aisles with a collection basket, one of the poorest communities in Albuquerque opened their wallets and gave what they could to help. Because that’s what we do – share laughter, share love, share what we have.

Thank you for joining me,

I’m so glad you’re here,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Pope Francis had the Moral Courage Most Lack

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

Rest in Peace Pope Francis

Monday of the Angel

On Easter Monday, Pope Francis, our first Jesuit, Latin American Pope, left this world on a day steeped in hope, the day after Easter. This hope is the exact message he delivered every day by just being himself. Easter Monday is known as ‘Monday of the Angel’ in remembrance of the women who went to see Jesus’ tomb and were told of his resurrection by an angel. Hope.

So, Monday morning, when I heard of Pope Francis’ passing, I thought about the angel that delivered the message, and as I am profoundly saddened by his death, deep in my heart, I pray Pope Francis is the angel to give God a nudge and remind Him of the struggling here. The lost jobs, the migrants, the poor, the marginalized, our neglected earth, and the lack of compassion for humanity. Losing Pope Francis was like losing our last hope.

Moral Courage

Moral courage is the ability to stand up for and practice what we think is ethical, moral, and right. Pope Francis chose to meet the world where it was and believed the church should recieve everyone -todos -todos.

I’ve dabbled in moral courage…I remember my son’s kindergarten teacher keeping the kids in for recess when it was 50 degrees, “too cold,” they said. I set up a meeting with the teacher. “Let’s agree to disagree,” she said. So I went to the PTA to start a petition, “too controversial,” I was told. Then the principal said, “Sorry, PE can count for recess.” Finally, I joined several parents from all over the city and went to the state capital in Atlanta, three kids in tow, to speak about how critical recess is for our children. How recess is a right and NOT a privilege. I researched kids, movement, and the brain for years, and finally, legislation was passed mandating 30 minutes of recess daily. Baby steps.

I remember standing amid Catholics for Choice at a march in Washington, DC, when it wasn’t the popular view to take. Yet I stood in the rain for hours with survivors of sexual abuse, and anyone who dared to respect a woman’s rights.

Some call this ludicrous. Others call it courage.

What I learned:

We find ourselves at a juncture when hope and courage dwindle with each headline and news break. Back in 2016, Pope Francis said, “Anyone, whoever he is, who only wants to build walls and not bridges is not a Christian.” He was right. He urged the cardinals and bishops to serve as a field hospital for the people, not a country club for the rich. He chose his name Francis from St. Francis of Assisi who saw all of creation as a sacred manifestation of God’s love, how perfect.

So, let us live like Pope Francis and choose humility over ego, the poor over the powerful, and people over property.

Rivers do not drink their own water; trees do not eat their own fruit; the sun does not shine on itself and flowers do not spread their fragrance for themselves. Living for others is a rule of nature. We are all born to help each other. No matter how difficult it is …. life is good when you are happy, but much better when others are happy because of you. – Pope Francis

Thank you Pope Francis for being our beacon of hope and unrelenting courage.

Here’s to Another Good Day.

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Mary’s Holy Saturday was just awful

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

Lenten Reflections #39

I awoke this morning with a heartbreaking curiosity about what Mary must have felt the morning of Holy Saturday. There is no record of how Mary spent the day, but I would imagine it was agonizing, silent, exhausting, and empty.

We’ve all been in that void when we wonder why horrible things happen.

Like recently…why were there more school shootings? Why is there a continued war in Ukraine? Why is Putin so evil? Am I supposed to love him like I love my own children? Why are people fighting over land? Why can’t we share? Where is God in all of this when we need him the most? Agonizing moments like this make us feel abandoned by God.

So Holy Saturday, when the most faithful of disciples, Mary, the Holy Mother, who gave her life and all of her love to her son, on that Holy Saturday morning, was severed from the one she loved so dearly.

This enduring loss Mary felt reminded me of a eulogy I heard on “Thanks for Being Here,” a podcast by Kelly Corrigan. It was written by a father from Dublin who lost his young son.

He talked about what he thought was the impossible, the death of his son, how it came thick and fast. “I sought the intercession of the saints of the church triumphant, evoked all the choirs of angels for the grace of God’s healing, insisted on the impossible, asked for the undoable…”. He felt upended in a tempest, pulled under the surface of everything they knew and were.

Like Mary must have realized, this father said he knew the currents of their lives and their children’s lives would carry them apart. But with faith, they held on tight to each other, then surrendered, finding grace and mercy. “We’ll live it for them and ourselves, doing good, being kind, showing mercy, getting into mischief, finding fun…start the day with prayer, we love, you we miss you, we love you, we miss you…and one day, lead us to the garden where we will never be parted again.”

What I learned:

The despair felt from the loss of someone you cannot live without is strong and unrelenting. Yet the faith we muster serves as a tiny lifeboat in a sea of grief. Let us live like Mary, stand by the cross, knowing in our hearts, the ones we love who have departed first will be waiting on the other side of the tomb in a beautiful garden with arms wide open to receive us.

Here’s to Another Good Day and a Holy Saturday.

Thanks for joining me,

Lucretia

Posted in Family, Faith and Fitness

Kids Define Miracles

Posted on by Lucretia Cahill

Lenten Reflections #38

Today I read the story Rechenka’s Eggs by Patricia Polacco to my kindergarten and first grade classes. My own kids grew up reading Polacco’s family-centered stories, all intermingled with lovely cultural lessons. Rechenka’s Eggs tells a story about Easter eggs intricately painted in the Ukrainian/Eastern European style, a Babushka, and a wild goose. Carefully woven throughout is the message of miracles. Miracles that come when you need them the most, but there’s no reason to expect them.

After I read the story, the children’s hands went up immediately, and we went around the circle discussing what a miracle is to these little ones. With this profound, faith-filled insight, it is hard to believe they only have five or six years on our earth.

What is a miracle?

  • It is something that makes you really, really happy.
  • It is when the Jews crossed the sea and the sea parted.
  • It is when you get hit with a bow and arrow by accident, but you don’t get hurt.
  • It is something to be happy about.
  • It is when something happens and you don’t know who did it.
  • It is a thing that did what cannot exist.
  • It is when you don’t know what made something happen, and never thought it could.
  • A miracle is anytime you don’t even wish for something, it just happens.
  • A miracle is when something bad happens, and then something good happens.
  • A miracle is when you’re drawing something and you have no art, and then suddenly art appears!
  • Miracles are the things you are thankful for
  • A miracle is something you are scared to do, then you try it, and it works
  • A miracle is something beautiful
  • A miracle is when you are wanting to win something so much and then you do
  • A miracle is like good luck
  • Miracles are impossible for humans to imagine

Who can give me an example of a miracle?

  • Happy tears
  • It’s like having something that is plain, but then it is perfectly polished
  • When the candles lasted for more nights for Hannukah
  • There was a boy on the Titanic when it crashed, and only women could be saved, and the boy jumped into the sea and he survived, that’s the miracle.
  • We had a treehouse, and it was rebuilt after being destroyed.
  • It is Jesus changing the wine and bread
  • I don’t know if this will happen, but I think it will…it will be a miracle when I grow up and I am big and strong.
  • A miracle is like when Martin Luther King changed white people fighting with brown people
  • “Can I do way back then miracles? Then, when Jesus rose, it was a miracle.”
  • Going to heaven is kinda like that – a miracle
  • When you invite Jesus into your heart and you get to go to Heaven…but heaven isn’t the only place you go when you die, there’s a really hot place, but I forgot the name of it.
  • The den full of lions story, when Daniel got out – that’s a miracle
  • In snow-white, the queen was about to get shot by an arrow and didn’t get hit, that’s a miracle
  • When Jesus died on the cross, and the guys who helped him (disciples) found out he didn’t die
  • Last supper when Jesus said one will betray me, and then one did
  • When baby Jesus was born
  • When I came alive, it was a miracle
  • A miracle is something that a human can’t do, but Jesus can
  • A miracle is when people who couldn’t walk and then they could
  • Or that time when they ran out of wine and Jesus asked some boys to get buckets of water, and he changed it into wine.
  • When something bad turns into something amazing
  • The time in the Bible when there was no food and one kid had a lunchbox, and Jesus kept it filled with the bread and fish

Who has had a miracle happen to them?

  • A miracle is like if you walk out your front door and there is a pile of clovers, and right on top, above all of them, is a four-leaf clover
  • I always wanted my lovey, Pinky, to have a rattler inside her, and I woke up one day, and she did.
  • It’s a miracle my grandma is turning 90 and she doesn’t need a wheelchair, just a stroller (walker)
  • A miracle happened when I thought my pet catfish had died, and then I found out it didn’t
  • I almost got hit by a car when I was two, and my aunt pushed me out of the way, and we both survived; that was a miracle.
  • It was a miracle when I saw a great white sturgeon, the biggest fish in the world, and then it laid its eggs in front of me
  • It was a miracle cause I didn’t know I was going to Great Wolf Lodge, and then we went
  • It’s a miracle when something impossible you can’t do and then you can. One time, I didn’t think I could lift a really heavy weight, and then I did.
  • If you have a pet dog and you release it, and it comes back
  • It was a miracle when I was sick, I didn’t think I’d feel better, and two days after I did.
  • Once my aunt couldn’t remember anything, and then she could, that was a miracle
  • There was a man in the Bible who thought he was going to die, and then he didn’t die, he had so much faith in God that he was swept up in a cloud. That story makes me laugh every time! Imagine a man being swept up by a cloud!

What I learned:

Miracles surround us every day – the sun rising and setting, stones skipping, hummingbirds stopping by for a sip, addictions squelched, children being born, diseases cured, monarch butterflies migrating, stars shining, waves crashing. All miracles.

One of the blessings of miracles is the faith they provide and the hope they restore. That is what happened; each child in class candidly shared their thoughts and filled my heart with love and hope, and courage to believe in miracles.

Albert Einstein said, “There are only two ways to live your life. One is as if nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”

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

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