Something Has Happened

We are going to die.

Let's just take our human hearts and confront them with this stark fact.

Each of us has a heart, with all its aspirations and desires, hopes and persistence, all its wanting and not yet being satisfied. Where does death fit into the picture?

If any of us were given a choice between death and total fulfillment of the heart -- that elusive thing called happiness -- we know what we would choose.

We want permanent happiness.

But everyone who has ever lived has ended up dead, and so will each one of us. Still, my heart -- that stubborn thing -- insists on wanting and seeking permanent happiness. The whole world lures us with the promise of happiness. But it is as if we are trapped and cannot get there.

Either our hearts and the whole universe are a lie, or happiness does exist, but we cannot achieve it, we cannot find it. As Kafka said, "the destination exists but there is no road."

Is this the dilemma? "Unto dust you shall return" -- is this the final word on human existence?

Is it?

"No," says the human heart. In the midst of conflicting circumstances and no perceivable hope, the heart still expects happiness. And so we keep on going.

Why?

There is a whispering in the depths of every human heart. Something has happened. No living human being has entirely lost the memory of the echo of that secret: Something has happened. Already the heart is hiddenly drawn forth.

Something has happened.

The mystery of grace opens the heart to this hope. And the eyes that look upon reality and history discover the fact that confirms it: A man has risen from the dead. He has himself died and destroyed death for all of us, and in rising has glorified the dust. This fact is called Christianity.

It is not Christianity unless it is a fact. A myth about a dying and rising redeemer to comfort our sentiments or symbolize some vague afterlife is not Christianity. Nor is Christianity the story of an ethical teacher who died for his beliefs and left us a lasting inspiration.

Christianity is a fact: Happiness became a man.

"That-Mystery-For-Which-Our-Hearts-Have-Been-Made" has become a man -- a man who lived and died and rose from the dead.

And this man gathered other men around him and began of movement of life in history that continues to this day -- an identifiable movement of life that can be seen and heard and touched: the "Church," ekklesia, the "gathering," the community of people who adhere to him through space and time unto this very day.

We have entered upon a season of remembering, but also a season of hope. We are moving toward death. We are returning to dust. But something has happened to the dust. The dust has been transfigured by Glory.

The truth, the reality, the fact about the dust is that it has been changed: even as dust, even as weakness and disappointment, even as frustration, even as death, it has been changed. It has become the road to happiness because Happiness Himself has taken it as His own.

My dust. He has taken my dust as His very own.

And I seek to walk in silence, to focus, to withdraw from distraction, to sacrifice ordinary comforts in order to listen more carefully to that heart where the whispering continues: Something has happened. Something has happened. Something has happened.

Remaining in His Hands

Yesterday we began the season of Lent 2015. We seek conversion, to turn away from our sins, to practice self-denial and charity, to pay attention to God.

We need this school in which we learn obedience to God. To listen, to open up, to follow God and to give Him space, to recognize our emptiness and offer it to Him so that He can fill us.

Obedience to God really is the easy yoke (even though it often doesn't seem that way). The reality of "God's will" is the love of our Father, and His gentle hands guiding us toward Him and protecting us from harm.

What do we achieve by escaping from His hands? Where are we going to go?

The Lord is merciful. He doesn't want us to run forever and get nowhere. He wants us to remain on the narrow path that He is crafting for us with His loving hands.

It is a narrow path, because it is the particular love that He has for each one of us, that corresponds to the unique personality that each of us possesses.

Each one of us is a person. Unrepeatable. Unique. Loved.

We are so precious and so profound: we do not know how dear and how deep we are, because we do not really know ourselves.

God knows us. His will is His wisdom and love for each one of us. He knows what is good for us, what will bring us joy.

Let us remain in His hands.

Our Mardi Gras Queen

We just got done with Christmas, and now it's Carnevale!

The "House Chef" gave her expertise to the Mardi Gras dessert, a "choco-flan" cake (Mommy helped "a little," I'm told). It was delish.

Twenty One Human Persons

These are the names of twenty one human persons.

Each name indicates a human face, a human life, interwoven with the lives of other humans: family and loved ones, communities, a people, a history.

These twenty one human persons died on February 13, 2015. I want to devote this space, today, to their names.

They deserve the honor of their names. They are the names of men, of our brothers:

1. Milad Makeen Zaky 

2. Abanub Ayad Atiya

3. Maged Solaiman Shehata

4. Yusuf Shukry Yunan

5. Kirollos Shokry Fawzy

6. Bishoy Astafanus Kamel

7. Somaily Astafanus Kamel

8. Malak Ibrahim Sinweet

9. Tawadros Yusuf Tawadros

10. Girgis Milad Sinweet

11. Mina Fayez Aziz

12. Hany Abdelmesih Salib

13. Bishoy Adel Khalaf

14. Samuel Alham Wilson

15. Worker from Awr village

16. Ezat Bishri Naseef

17. Loqa Nagaty

18. Gaber Munir Adly

19. Esam Badir Samir

20. Malak Farag Abram

21. Sameh Salah Faruq

These men were killed in Libya, along the shore of the Mediterranean sea, because they were members of Egypt's ancient Coptic Christian Church. Their enemies called them, "the people of the cross."

Their killers distributed videos and images around the world of their brutal murder, because the killers want to foment hatred, division, and fear among the peoples of the Middle East and around the world. They want to advertise for their own ideological agenda.

But we don't need their images, and we will not be driven to fear or hatred.

We Christians already have an image for the death our brothers died, and this image assures us that death has already been defeated, that death does not have the last word.

Love has the last word.

Virginia Meets the North Pole!

Oh yes, it was cold today. This is our coldest bout of Winter so far. I think the high temperature today was around 16 degrees with strong winds.

The sudden temperature drop basically means this for me:

Ouch. Ouch. Ouch. This weather bothers my rheumatism! And I'm beginning to realize (not just in the abstract) that it doesn't get any better as I get older.

Things weren't so bad this morning. The sun was shining brilliantly and it was about six degrees or something when we headed out to church. I bundled up for the two minutes or so that I would actually have to spend outside.

O heck, it didn't feel so bad. I decided to take a "selfie" to show off my smoothness in handling the cold.

"Hey, I got this! Six degrees, no big deal..."

"... with wind gusts up to forty miles an hour?! Oh, gosh! Maybe I should just get into the car!"

Okay, Winter, you win this round.

Just remember, I can still take pictures from inside the car, and no matter how cold it gets, evergreens are always GREEN! So there!

Look how beautiful and serene it is... from the passenger's seat, behind the window, in a warm car!

Fifty YEARS of a Great and Mysterious Love Story

It is the Lord who shows us the real drama, and the real possibilities and mystery of a human relationship. That is why today I feel it worthwhile to continue my account of a very special and astonishing relationship between a man and a woman, a relationship far more radical and unusual than anything we see or hear about.

Several months ago, in Magnificat, I wrote about the conversion to Jesus and the Church of Jacques and Raissa Maritain, a remarkable young couple whose lives and search for the truth could not be separated.

And indeed, they continued for more than fifty years this relationship of loving Jesus together and bearing witness to Him. It was a passionate love story, deeply personal, and yet also wonderfully fruitful in the world. They touched so many of those around them, and drew them in to share in the "great friendship" with Jesus that they had found and were living.

Meanwhile they also made a great and lasting impression upon the world. Jacques became internationally recognized as a great philosopher (arguably the greatest Thomistic philosopher of the twentieth century), and also as a teacher, a prolific author, a man of public affairs, and an ambassador. Raissa's reflective nature led her to become a notable poet and writer, and though hindered greatly by health problems, she wrote through the years and also continued to be Jacques's most important inspiration, confidante, editor, and critic (when necessary she could be a very blunt critic, and he listened to her when she corrected his thinking).

Raissa's most famous works are the two beautiful memoirs (Les Grandes Amities and Les Aventures de la Grace) about her early life with Jacques, their conversion, and their years of spiritual, intellectual, cultural, and artistic partnership in France before World War II. Of course there's even more to the story after that, and some things were only revealed when Jacques published Raissa's Journal after her death, along with his own notes.

I believe it was one of the greatest human friendships ever.

As a marriage, it was unique... mind blowing, really.

It was a truly great marriage between two people who loved each other really and concretely, in every kind of circumstance and stress. But this marriage had at its core a very special commitment: something that strikes even Christian married people as strange and incomprehensible, and that is positively not recommended by the Church as an ordinary way of life in the married state.

It is a commitment that is possible in extraordinary circumstances and in the light of a very particular kind of vocation, and it must be rigorously discerned in spiritual direction to be sure that it is entirely free of any subtle contempt for the goodness of married life as a real means of sanctification. But Jacques and Raissa were deeply convinced of the God-given goodness and interpersonal beauty of the activity that they both felt called to abandon freely in sacrifice. They wanted to sacrifice this expression of love... for the sake of love. This was not an immature spiritual impulse or a failure of affectivity. This was a desire that had been growing in their hearts for some time, for a very special path they were called to follow.

Many people simply don't understand it, or even disagree with it. Certainly there is nothing "ordinary" about it even for Catholic Christians.

But the Maritains were called by Jesus in a singular, extraordinary way. It is impossible to comprehend, but at the same time the reality of this call for these particular people is evident; it is undeniable, in its fruits.

And this commitment between them was completely unknown to anyone else while they both lived (except those who gave them spiritual direction, who kept it in confidence as was their duty).

Jacques revealed the whole truth about their marriage and their decision only toward the end of his own life, and he emphasized that it was something very particular to their own personal Christian life together, their particular circumstances and the ever-greater love that Jesus continued to draw from their hearts. They believed themselves called to a mysterious love that Jacques called "mad love" -- the love of Jesus that draws people to sell everything and follow Him alone. At the same time, they experienced this as a "common vocation," to love Christ "madly," to sacrifice everything but to do it together and in the midst of the secular world.

After eight years of married life, characterized by an ardent physical intimacy that participated in and expressed, no doubt, their profound growth in faith, they felt called to a great renunciation. No doubt also, this possibility arose in light of the fact that they had no children, and it did not appear that they would be able to have children.

Finally, after much prayer, discernment, and direction, they took vows as Benedictine oblates and included therein something not required for a married oblate: celibate chastity. In their circumstances, without responsibility for a family, they could have chosen to part ways in this world, with Jacques becoming a monk and Raissa a nun.

But that is precisely what they did not choose to do, and herein lies the utterly radical and particular nature of the vocation they had discerned. They chose to live their marriage within this profound and secret commitment, to leap into the mystery of living the bond they shared in new ways unknown to them (and to us). So they consecrated themselves to pursue God alone (but also together) and lived thereafter in a celibate marriage.

They lived together in this way, as husband and wife, for fifty more years!

And everyone who knew them testified that they lived a relationship of profound unity, companionship, and fidelity to each other, while also possessing an openness that drew people from the milieu in which they lived, people of many faiths or no faith: intellectuals, artists, musicians, political activists, poets and writers.

The cultural world of France, and later America, found in them a unique kind of hospitality. Not a few of these men and women of the world converted, and the Maritains became godparents many times over. Clearly Jacques and Raissa lived a companionship that was both personally intimate and full of a humanity that radiated out to many others.

The Maritains, near the end of Raissa's life.

They lived what Raissa called, "Contemplation on the roads of the world."

In its particular sacrifices and as a form of married life, it is not a way that people should try to copy (really, people, don't try this out...).

It was simply something extraordinary, a unique grace that they were given.

For us married people it seems strange, like a distancing, a coldness, a breaking off of spousal love, an attempt to turn marriage artificially into a kind of religious life. And that is what it would be (and worse) if any of us presumed to take it up.

It was not meant to be a "form of life" that could be proposed in a general way to the Christian people. Rather it was a profoundly personal and interpersonal grace given to transfigure the lives of two particular people. As such it is, really, incomprehensible; it touches on the mystery of particular human persons and their relationship.

We can't really understand it.

But the more we "get to know" the Maritains from their own writings and the testimony of others, the more we can "see" the fruits of their "mad love" for Jesus (and for each other!). There is in them, unmistakably, something both awesome and tender, great and humble, incomprehensible and approachable.

We see the Mystery within the human. We see humans being transformed and at the same time becoming more profoundly human, more attractive with a love that reaches out to us and accompanies us.

Even though we are not called to imitate the dramatic life and relationship of the Maritains, it remains a witness to a Love that can change us even when it surprises us, a Love that can be trusted and followed because it leads to the depths of God and the realization of our own personal identity.

Mary, Friend of My Soul

Our Lady of Lourdes,

Immaculate Conception,

all holy, all merciful Mother,

bring us healing of mind, heart, and body.

____________________________

Mary, friend of my soul,
gentle light always in my darkness,
whispering voice of the promise of Eternal Love
awakening me from the stupor
of my all-absorbing, aching wounds.

Thank you for staying with me
in quiet constancy,
tending always the embers of hope.

Thank you for bearing with
and being with all this pain,
for holding in your heart
all of the wailing and the cries.

Like a vessel you gather together
the torrential rains of tears.

You bathe me with them
and their waters make me whole.

A Force of Nature

What I sound like to my kids.

In the past four years I have written and written, here on this blog and on other media platforms. And though I'm not teaching in the classroom, I am always ready to talk about things that interest me and others, i.e. to have a conversation. I'm a pretty good listener (over the years I've become much better at really listening). But words always seem to be at hand, and if others are interested and listening I will talk. I will talk and talk and talk long beyond exhaustion.

I have an implacable desire to express myself, and to communicate the things that I experience and learn. The energy to shape words (whether writing or speaking) is like a force of nature in me.

And like everything in my nature, it is ambivalent.

It is the energy of seeking the truth, and of the desire to encourage others in the search for truth.

But it is also the energy of a show-off who wants to be admired, a clown who craves laughter, an acrobat who hungers for applause; it comes, in part, from the vacuum inside me that is desperately insecure, that wants approval again and again, that wants to take the feeling of being appreciated, consume it, and demand more.

It is human to want to be appreciated. But for me this desire is swollen and throbbing and itching in a way that can never be scratched.

I have so much to offer. I am intelligent, learned, experienced in life, and generous toward others. I have a pretty good sense of humor. I am ardent, earnest, devoted, intense, and sincere. But I am also vain, proud, and overly dramatic. And I am insecure, emotionally fragile, anxious, stressed out, overwhelmed. I overdo everything (just look at this list!).

Why am I this way?

The consequences of original sin, of course, are a fundamental factor in the division, distortion, and conflict that everyone faces in life. For me this is augmented by genetic predispositions, physical and mental illness, and the inherent psychological strengths and imbalance of an intelligent and creative personality.

Then I have 52 years of my own concrete human experience -- my (authentic though inadequate) love for God and others, my few accomplishments, my many sins, and all my struggling, failing, suffering, being hurt, and seeking God but too often failing to trust in Him.

There is this world of mistrust inside me, fortified with many weapons and many defenses, stubbornly persisting for no real reason.

I need to be changed, profoundly, in ways I don't even know; to be stripped down, remolded, and forged anew. Sometimes it feels like this is the deep and mysterious truth of what has been happening to me in recent years, in all of these amplified sufferings and confusion and deeper joys too.

A force of nature being forged into something new: this is a process that takes a long time.

It is the work that Jesus is accomplishing in me through the Holy Spirit. I try to work "with Him," but above all I have to surrender my self to His work.

He knows what needs to be accomplished.

Sculptures of Brown Forests

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In Winter I see the hills all over the neighborhood.

Here I was struck by the variations

of hues in the sky

as the clouds slowly moved on,

and the trees gently swayed

in their sparse Winter dress,

tinged with the gold of an elusive afternoon sun.

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Most of the year, these branches

would hang heavy like a leafy curtain.
But in Winter, they draw back
to reveal distant hilltops.
And our Valley becomes wild and wide and open
like a great spacious plain
filled with sculptures of brown forests.

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The creek shimmers and sparkles,

a liquid mirror of afternoon light.

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And at six in the evening

comes the surprise of sunset

red like clay as it thickens into twilight

behind the shadowy hilltop vigil

of a solitary oak.

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Life is Walking on Water

Life is walking on water.

"Immediately he made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, but by this time the boat, battered by the waves, was far from the land, for the wind was against them. And early in the morning he came walking towards them on the lake. But when the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified, saying, ‘It is a ghost!’ And they cried out in fear. But immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, ‘Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.’ Peter answered him, ‘Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.’ He said, ‘Come.’ So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came towards Jesus. But when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, ‘Lord, save me!’ Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, ‘You of little faith, why did you doubt?’" (Matthew 14:22-31)

Like the disciples in this Gospel passage, we find ourselves on a journey. We're in the human "boat," and the wind and the waves of our lives are preventing us from getting anywhere.

It's dark. We're frustrated. There's weird stuff going on all over the place. We're barely afloat.

But then suddenly, we are surprised by a man. Not only is he moving freely. He's doing the impossible. He's "walking on the water" -- all the human problems that frustrate our plans and our designs are raging and he is right there in the midst of them. Yet they do not trouble or hinder him at all. He has complete freedom and mastery over everything that's threatening to sink us, but when we see him we are scared.

This is to be expected.

Jesus's disciples were scared when they first saw him walking on the water. They were first century Palestinians, children of Israel, not terribly well educated, and maybe a bit superstitious. In any case, they were "spiritual" men, so they were understandably scared that a ghost was approaching them.

"What the heck is this?"...they wondered. "It's not human; that's for sure!"

We are twenty-first century cosmopolitans -- global villagers -- and most of us know that there must be something more than just this physical world that we see, hear, and touch. Something is "out there" that we might "see" in strange moments, like after we die. Or this "something" has to do with certain deep experiences we have from time to time. We know this, because -- after all -- we identify ourselves as "spiritual" people.

But right now, we're in this capsizing boat -- the "boat" that is the place where we are actively engaged and concerned with life, where we place our hopes and expectations for here and now, where we look for concrete solutions. This is not the place for "being spiritual," we think. This is the place where we need to get down to business.

And business is not going well.

We are also superstitious, in old fashioned ways perhaps, but surely in subtler ways that we wouldn't readily acknowledge. We are afraid of something new happening in our lives, something good and beautiful that really challenges us and changes us but that is also beyond our calculations and our control.

So what are we going to do with this "someone" we now see, who is accompanying us in our lives, who seems to know us better than we know ourselves? What are we to make of this? How can we bear it?

And then he speaks: "Take heart. It is I. Do not be afraid."

He is a man walking with us, a real "someone," a friend. We see that there are some among us who recognize him.

And we recognize him too. In his face we see the promise of life, the hope that moves us, the fulfillment that we have been trying to reach as we flounder in the waves of frustration and failure.

We recognize all of this in his human face.

This man is walking with us, and he is walking on the water that we fear is going to drown us. This man is with us and he is our friend. He is also offering us a possibility beyond our calculations and beyond our own power.

He says to us, "Come."

He says, "Trust me. Walk with me. Stay with me and you will walk on this water, you will do the impossible, you will walk and you will go onward and persevere even amidst the highest waves and the wildest winds. Come with me!"

He says even more to us through this Gospel story. He says, "Even if you get scared and start to sink -- you who are so small in your heart, with so little faith and so little trust -- I will catch you! I will not leave you alone. Trust me!"

This is the decision we must make every day. We hear him say, "Come!" And we must decide, we must choose to trust him, and to take that first step onto the water...

...and then the next, and the next. Step by step, moving, halting, struggling, sinking, letting him catch us and pull us up again, and then taking the next step....

Life is walking on water with him.

He Endured Everything

"We have a Lord who cries with us and walks with us in the most difficult moments of life.

He understands us because he underwent all the trials that we, that you, have experienced.

And beside the cross was his Mother.

We are like a little child in the moments when we have so much pain and no longer understand anything. All we can do is grab hold of her hand firmly and say "Mommy" -- like a child does when it is afraid.

It is perhaps the only word we can say in difficult times -- "Mommy".

Let us look to Christ on the cross. He understands us because he endured everything.

Let us look to our Mother and, like a little child, let us hold onto her mantle and with a true heart say -- "Mother". In silence, tell your Mother what you feel in your heart.

Let us know that we have a Mother, Mary, and a great Brother, Jesus.

We are not alone."


~Pope Francis

The Hope of Everyone

Why is there a picture of a sofa here? Keep reading!

The Lord relies on our witness to communicate His immense love to the whole world.

"We are the Church," was the cool thing to say when I was young. Time has made it clear, however, that "we" have made rather a mess of things.

It would appear that Jesus is stuck with a sorry bunch of messengers.

Yet His love for each and every person is nothing short of miraculous. It is wonderful. It is transforming. And we are His witnesses. We want to be on fire with this love so that it can shine through. We want the change in our lives to show that miracles are possible.

Still, even those who aim high find that they fall short again and again. Should this be a cause for discouragement?

Certainly not.

The "miracle" that people can discover when they look at our witness is not that we're "totally perfect" (we're not even close). Rather, what they can see is that in the midst of all our real flawed human lives, something is different -- there is Something Else that gives us hope, "Something" (SomeONE) for whom we live... or at least we try to live for Him.

I look at myself and it's clear that I'm so obviously mediocre, vain, and lazy that there must be Someone Else at work in me. There's no way I would "make this up" by myself.

I would make up the ultimate comfy sofa. Oh yeah!

But this man Jesus? He is not something I invented. He is not "my idea." He is real and He loves me and it's so beautiful that it's changing me.

And He comes to me in the Church, with its sinful ministers and my sinful brothers and sisters -- clearly not because they're so great, but because He has promised to remain with us here, to give Himself here in this particular reality of history that is not a club or a nation or an empire but the hope of everyone, the "Universal" (Catholic) reality of redeemed humanity, the sign and instrument of Jesus's love for every person.

To Breathe the Gift of Air

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Thank you, Jesus
for... 
         everything!

Everything.

How can I thank you for any less?
You are the Giver of every gift,
and the smallest, most unnoticed of your gifts
are great beyond all wonders.

Truly, a single breath of air
is food-filling, sustaining-source of time of living-alive.
One breath of air
means Life.
Now.

If only I saw clearly,
I would burst with thanks,
so that ten thousand worlds could not hold
the rivers of gratitude that would flow from me.

If only I saw clearly....

And you have come to live with us,
to breathe the gift of air with us.

Jesus, thank you for becoming our brother,
so that we might see clearly in your light,
so that your great glory
might be revealed to all of us
in the tiny breathing of a child
held by Mary's mothering arms.

The Best of the Christmas Decorations

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At the end of the Christmas season, I would like to put together on one blog post some of the decoration and ornament photographs I took over the past seven weeks.

Most of these have already been posted on various social media sites, but I want to bring them together here on one post, "for the record" as it were.

And there are always some readers (e.g. Mom and Dad) who didn't get to see them. So here is the "Christmas Review"...

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The New Year is already moving along on its course. Soon it will be Christmas again.

I hope we will be merry all through the months ahead.

Dear Kids, We Will Always Love You

Three years ago (January 27, 2012, to be exact) I posted these reflections about what we as parents hope for our children as they grow to adulthood. "Children growing up" is a bit less abstract now, as John Paul is getting ready to enter college. The kids are growing, thank God. I do believe these words have value, and so I present them again as we end this first month of the year 2015:

We are living the daily business of a family of growing children. Everyone is growing, in different ways. We have seen our friends’ children make it to adulthood, embark upon their vocations, and sometimes move far away. I interact with my kids in so many ways that it’s easy to take them for granted. Yet they are on their way to becoming adults. They have been created for a destiny that is greater than anything we can give them. What, ultimately, can parents say to their children? I want my children to know and experience the truth of these words, from the hearts of their parents:

What we pray for, what we keep praying for, is that you follow the love of Jesus. Don't be afraid of the difficulties or the questions. Pray and hope and bring yourself to Him just as you are, because His merciful heart is reaching out to you.

Wherever His love takes you, we will find joy in entrusting you to Him. Of course, we hope you'll be around and we will have much time together. Perhaps you will have a spouse and children of your own, and our family will grow in new ways. That would bring us many joys, and new responsibilities that we will gladly undertake. But we pray and pray that, in everything, you will belong to Him: the One who created you, who makes you to be you, Jesus, who gives Himself for you. No one else deserves that deep core of your heart. Ultimately, no one else is worthy of you except Him.

And we, your parents, have been given to you by God to lead you on the path of growing up, and then to continue to be companions with you on this journey. We are all still growing up in this world. And we have been placed together by God, as a family, to help each other. Whatever you need, ask. We can help one another, inside His great Heart of love. If anything troubles you, if you have any burden, you can share it. No matter what it is. We are not going to run away. We pray that, by the grace of the Heart of Jesus, we will always be here for you.

Even if you get lost, even if you get tangled up in problems and doubts, we will remain here for you. If you make mistakes, we pray that God's mercy in truth and love will always shine through us. If we must, we will seek you out, not to harass you but to help you if you ask, and to bear with you whatever sorrows and afflictions weigh upon you.

Most importantly, we are determined to place our trust in God's infinite love, and to remain committed to you no matter what happens in your life, so that you always know that you are loved.

Four Years as a Blogging Hack

Yesterday was the fourth "birthday" of this venerable and highly respected blog that nobody reads. I've been "celebrating" by looking back at some of the really old posts. They reveal many interesting things, such as the following:

(1) This is my 940th post on the Never Give Up blog.

(2) Wow! This is my NINE HUNDRED AND FORTIETH blog post!!! That's a lot of blogging. At this point, I suppose I should accept the fact that I am a "blogger" in the most respectable sense of the term (which is, of course, "not very..."). Anyway, I'll need some special bells and whistles for the one thousandth post, which will probably come around Easter time this year.

(3) This blog, which I envisioned (in part) as a kind of continuation of the book Never Give Up: My Life and God's Mercy (still worth reading and still on sale right here *CLICK*), is now about four times longer than the original book!

(4) I have about a half dozen themes that I write about continually, often repeating the same thoughts and even the same words. Oh well... this is my workshop for reflection, writing, and (increasingly) digital photography and graphics. There's a lot of sawdust around.

(5) There is also some really good stuff here. I should put the good stuff together in a way that would make it accessible to more readers.

(6) I need an editor. I really need an editor. Oh boy, do I need an editor.

(7) The kids have grown ridiculously since this blog started. Oh my!

(8) My growth in the "spiritual life" in the last four years has been zero. I mean ZERO. ZILCH. NADA! NA-DA.... well, that's the way it seems. If anything good is happening, I can't take credit for it!

(9) But I know the Lord is doing His part and He has His own measure for the work He is doing in me. I ask Him to give me the grace to let Him change me and to cooperate with His mercy so that I might grow in trust and love.

Anyway, I thought it would fun and interesting to do a screenshot of the first two posts, both under the date of January 29, 2011. In those days, I was one of those guys-who-post-about-sports on social media sites (I still am, but not as much). So here was my attempt to explain myself, along with the initial post that launched the blog in response to the encouragement of some friends and old students.

Four years and one day ago:

We All Need Forgiveness

One word that must never be forgotten: Forgiveness. We all need forgiveness.

In these late days of January, we hold up the dignity of every human being, the uniqueness and preciousness of every human life. We cry out against the violence of our "throwaway culture" where human persons are treated like things and the most intimate relationships of human love are reduced to mere convenient arrangements between autonomous egos.

We seek justice. We hope to make a difference. We want to build up the good. But realism compels us to acknowledge that the wounds are very deep. They have many origins and many levels of affliction. People are wounded and bleeding, and what is pouring out of them is the blood of the human spirit, the resources of human vitality, hope, attachment to real life, capacity to love.

Terrible wounds. How can they possibly be healed and restored? Where is forgiveness to be found?

There is a brokenness that we see manifested in the tragic violence of abortion, that destroys innocent human life, separates mothers from their own children, and robs our society of the awareness that human dignity is rooted in the gift of God's creative love. Brokenness is manifest in euthanasia, in the brutal neglect of the poor, in pervasive contentiousness and bitter conflict, in war as a way of life.

Yet this brokenness afflicts all of us in different ways. We all try to withdraw from other persons or push them away from ourselves. We try to escape from those we are called to love. We want to evade precisely those relationships that are most real, that are constructive, challenging, and promising; those relationships that are mysteriously given but that can only live from committed and responsible freedom.

We withdraw from the promise of real love because we are afraid to give ourselves. We are afraid of the risk, the loss of ourselves in giving, the loss of a "control" that we think we can keep by our own power.

We are afraid of suffering.

We are all human beings, strange and broken and unable to put ourselves back together. And a great portion of this fragility and incapacity and anguish is not our fault. We suffer already, from physiological and psychological limitations that we inherit, from the pain of our own experiences, from illnesses, from all the wounds inflicted by the failures of others.

Yet we also know that our freedom still lives within this debilitated frame. We know that our freedom has been summoned by the promise of love, by the beauty and attraction of a fulfillment that is mysteriously made possible, by a hope that we cannot extinguish.

And we know that sometimes, to some extent, we have freely chosen to hide in the shadows of ourselves. We have refused to take the next step on the path that the light indicates to us. We have chosen to draw back into darkness.

Something of the brokenness that each of us suffers right now is our own fault. In the immensely complicated fabric of every human life there are many events and circumstances, but there is also the willful misuse of freedom. There is sin.

We have all sinned.

We all need forgiveness.

We are able to recognize so many genuine excuses for our failures, and these are factors of our lives that need attention, compassion, and healing. All of this is important, but it is not enough. We need to acknowledge and perhaps feel the touch of the unbearable weight of our own responsibility, our yielding to weakness, indulgence, distraction and our taking up of the weapons of destruction of ourselves and others. We need to acknowledge that we really are sinners.

Each one of us needs to examine his or her conscience and seek forgiveness for our sins.

When we bring this ultimate vulnerability into the open and raise it up to the One who has created us and who sustains our being, then we can discover the wonder of mercy.

God's response to our sins is Jesus. God gives Himself, and the abyss of His love is infinitely "deeper" than any of our wounds. He can heal our brokenness if we turn to Him.

If we open ourselves up, concretely, to the forgiveness of God, it will become a radiance within us, a witness -- within our wounded and broken and healing humanity -- to the gift of redeeming love that He offers to everyone. We will become instruments of His mercy.

Then our witness to the world becomes a witness to the truth in love. It is able to address with realism all the desperation and all the evil in our society because it does not condemn other human persons. Rather it is a witness of hope.

When we are deeply forgiven, we can communicate to others the ardent desire of the heart of Jesus to forgive their sins and bring healing. When we witness from within the awareness of our own poverty and total dependence upon His mercy, then it is that mercy that shines through us.

The witness to God's mercy and love is already the beginning of something new in the world. It awakens hope in hearts that God wants to touch; it brings that hope to people who may have never known it.

We all need forgiveness. People in our world today desperately need forgiveness. They don't know where to look for it. They may not even know it's possible. Yet they need it. We all share this need.

Let us not be afraid to be forgiven, to let our lives show how God responds to our need with His loving embrace.

Then He can use our hearts to extend the inexhaustible reach of His mercy and the promise of His forgiveness to others. Love and healing will grow in the world.

Our Father eagerly longs to forgive every person and to clothe them in robes of healing. Turn to Him. Ask Him for the grace of true sorrow for your sins. Ask Him to work within your heart, to change what needs changing in you.

The Father has already answered that "asking" -- He has answered it beyond all measure. He has sent His Son to dwell with us. Jesus. His Holy Spirit works in us and changes us, opening up surprising new places in our hearts from which we can turn away from our sins, and turn to Jesus with trust. He will make it possible for us to change, to want His forgiveness.

It may seem impossible. That doesn't matter. All things are possible with God. Ask Him. Keep asking. Never give up asking. He will do it.

O Lord, convert my heart! Change what needs changing in me. Forgive me for my sins!

Jesus, I trust in You.