How Writing Develops

The people who help me to care for my health think that the most important thing for me to do is to write. That is my excuse for being online all the time! It gets me writing, a lot!

Social media seem to create the right environment for expressing myself in writing by motivating me to comment and interact on posts and in private messages; little things develop into larger conversations, and the next thing you know, stuff is written. And there are also people I keep up with regularly, for various reasons, on the networks or via email. As a result of all these efforts to communicate, I hammer a lot of things out in writing. I then often transfer what I have written to a word document, where I work on it further. Sometimes (after editing or altering as necessary to ensure all possible respect for privacy) I may post some of this writing here.

Perhaps someone who is reading this might recognize some of the ideas and even some of the phrases and segments from posts, comment feeds or personal messages they have read from me before on one of the various social media. Please do not worry–all personal details are carefully removed and every discretion is observed. No matter how open I may be about myself, I always take care to preserve the confidences of others.

My desire is to make further and broader use of ideas and experiences that I have expressed in the written word in the initial context of communication. I also hope to rework some of this blog into my next book, and perhaps even beyond. That is how writing develops, at least for me.

It is something that gets pulled out of me. I write because of the sense that other people want it, that it helps them. That is where my motivation comes from. It was people responding to my book that first pulled me out of a shell that I hid in for more than a year (also a change in my medication, and the help of a good priest, and--as always–the effort and encouragement of my steadfast wife).

Now I'm determined to stay out of my shell, and to be there for those who need me. I shall not bury my talent in the ground.

Education and Reality

John Paul gave me a tour of his school notebooks and tests. He did this voluntarily (and enthusiastically). Every parent who has a child in school should definitely do this from time to time. In fact, do it frequently. This is your child's life. John Paul's life is really rich these days. He is learning some serious stuff at Chelsea. And he has done some creative projects of his own based on what he's been studying. He recently put together a power point presentation (just for fun) of Latin terms and their pictures corresponding to them.

Our son has had a Montessori education. He has learned to develop his interests in a creative and constructive way, dealing with reality--including the possibilities of multimedia. Montessori doesn't use computers; it's all "hardware," hands-on stuff. Calligraphy rather than word processing. And yet, the child who finishes the elementary level will take to computers like a fish to water. He has learned how investigate, how to be patient, how to be persistent in front of new things.

Montessori prepares a child for a secondary school education. He or she enters High School with a solid grasp of the basics of knowledge, but also with a great deal of experience, which fosters in him or her an inquiring mind, a sense of the diverse methods involved in approaching various kinds of subjects, and a readiness to take on new challenges.

I love the Montessori method. It is a realist education. In spite of what might seem like a superficial resemblance, the Montessori ideal is the opposite of the ideal of Rousseau. The point is not to leave the child "alone" so that the child can unfold the possibilities of his or her innate goodness. The point is to place the child in a pedagogically structured environment, so that he or she can discover truth, goodness, and beauty through a guided experience of real things. It is an education that corresponds to human nature.

And it is this human nature that I see maturing in my children.

For more information on the Montessori educational method, here is a useful link: http://www.michaelolaf.net/1CW312MI.html

Perfect Vessel of Jesus

O Mother Mary,
perfect vessel of Jesus,
help us.
When everything still seems too impossible,
you are there, Mary.
I entrust everything into your hands,
and I ask you who carried Jesus in your womb,
to bring Him to me and me to Him,
to bring together in your maternal heart
what the distance of my weakness keeps apart.
Mary, you brought Jesus into the world.
Bring Him, ever more deeply, into my life.
Dear Mary, mother Mary.

The Taste Of Eternity

All of our life is related to our destiny. This is what makes reality attractive. The more we become aware of this, however, the more vulnerable we often feel. Why is this?

The "taste" of eternity that life awakens in us fascinates us and draws us on, but it also brings sorrow because the fulfillment is not yet here, because we must wait. We must endure. Nothing we do in this world can take this sorrow away, because we long for the Infinite--we really do! There really is a relationship between every event in our lives and eternity, and it is the secret behind every true joy.  But even the joys of this life are permeated with the ache of longing, with the "not yet." In the end, only the Cross makes this bearable. But joy is also full of promise and hope, and even its sorrow is sweeter than any regular satisfaction. It hopes in the Resurrection.

After All

Well, we sure can make a mess of things sometimes. But I'm just never going to give up. I sure feel like giving up. But I'm never going to give up. Never give up. Never give up. Never give up. Never give up.

Who am I to presume to give advice to people? But there is a God and He keeps loving us. Thank God for the Cross. Never give up. Never give up. Never give up on Him.

I am the least trusting person in the world. I pray, "Jesus I trust in You" all day and I don't seem to be getting anywhere. Or am I?

I wrote a blog today, after all.

Remembering November 2005 And After (part two)

Here is the continuation and conclusion of the reflection posted on All Souls Day:

“I’m fine,” I told myself.

I felt shaken up, a little overwhelmed, a little out of joint. It was a Friday afternoon by the time things settled down and I had my rental car. I decided it would be a good idea to see my chiropractor on Monday, so I made an appointment. Then I tried to push my way through the many activities of a busy weekend.

Something wasn’t quite right.

Indeed it wasn’t. I should have been in bed. Complete rest will slow the progress of neurological damage after a concussion. Running around like crazy can make it worse.

I ran around like crazy through the rest of Friday and Saturday. Crazy in more ways than one. I became increasingly confused. But not enough to stop me from getting through my business.

Then on Sunday I started losing my balance.

Oh no, I thought. Here goes Lyme disease again! There are so many diverse symptoms that can accompany a Lyme flare-up that people with CLD are tempted to blame it for everything. I was also fatigued, but that was nothing new. And confused.

Monday morning I made the short drive to the chiropractor. By then it had been 72 hours. I was slow-minded, confused, and had balance problems. I wasn’t feeling very well, but I was used to not feeling well. Neither my wife or I realized that I shouldn’t have been driving anywhere at that point.

The doctor looked at me for a few seconds, and then asked, “is your wife at home?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Call her, and if she can’t get you we’ll call an ambulance. You need to go to the emergency room right away. You’ve got a concussion.”

“A what?”

That’s what it was, all right. I couldn’t even take a few steps with my eyes closed without falling over. The ER doctors explained the basics to me, and my own doctor and a neurologist followed up. I had a major concussion. I was ordered off my feet for a week. I was told it might take a couple of months to recover normal brain functioning. Meanwhile I was supposed to take it easy and avoid stress as much as possible....

“Ah...heh, heh...I’m a teacher...ha...y’know, thick-headed students, grueling lectures, papers, finals, senior theses coming up....” Stress? That’s the job description.

What could I do? We were two thirds of the way through the semester. I couldn’t just bail out on my “kids” (as I always used to call my students). So I worked six brutal weeks, laying down with splitting headaches between lectures, wearing sunglasses to cut light sensitivity, seeing students in my home as much as possible, and even having a few read their papers to me aloud. I needed pain medication to get my grades done, which contributed further to wearing down my immune system. This was all like passing out party invitations to the semi-dormant Lyme bacteria in my system.

I finished the grades. But my overall health was a wreck. And the concussion wasn’t healing. I had headaches. I had increasing difficulty following a conversation. And although I could still lecture, I was finding it harder to put words together in ordinary circumstances. I was still losing my balance.

By the middle of January, instead of being at opening weekend for the Spring semester, I was in the hospital. My semester was cancelled. I was demoralized and depressed.

Why had this happened?

When I got out of the hospital, I did nothing but rest for two months. I played games with my children. My limitations forced a certain simplicity upon me. The anger faded, and I began to heal. I also began to see a Catholic psychotherapist. This too was the beginning of a whole new dimension in living with my illness.

I began to heal.

On the feast of Our Lady of Lourdes, the college chaplain came to visit me and gave me Holy Communion. Something began on that day, something that has slowly grown in me even in the midst of many subsequent setbacks in physical and mental health. Something deep in me began to heal. I was being prepared for a new task in my life.

As I began to feel better, I started working out. My strength returned, and with it a measure of energy that I had not felt in years. I started working on papers for publication, and by March I was doing everything but classroom lecturing. The previous year, I had patched myself together to return to my work. But now, I was beginning to feel well.

Could it be that my prayer was being answered after all?

Healing, as it turned out, has proven to be a much more complicated task than it appeared in those months. Still this temporary health was a blessing, and though I’ve had many setbacks and struggles since then, God has brought us through them all in a way that has made it possible for me to give attention to what was closest to my heart.

Indeed, it was this window of health that made possible the great gift that I had prayed for on that November morning.

Eileen and I prayed in March, about a possibility. We talked about it. We knew there were risks. But we judged in faith that God wanted us to take them. We prayed for another child.

And God blessed us. God granted the prayers of that November morning. If we had seen the road ahead, with all its trials, would we have had the courage? It is good that life is in the hands of God. Because looking back at that difficult road, we see even the darkest places lit up by the face of our beloved Josefina, and we have never had the slightest regret.

God’s ways are mysterious, and I still do not know how He will fully answer the prayer of that day in November. But I do know that I was struggling with work and keeping my head above water in those days. This was an absorbing focus of my energies, and there was no thought of another child and no plan to seek one. There was only a desire and a prayer, reaching out to some wild unknown future.

We were a family of four children and a father who struggled with his health and the burdens of a difficult job. Then the burden and the struggle were taken off my shoulders. I was forced to rest, in body and in mind. From this rest I found energy and health (even though, as it turned out, only for a time, and as a preparation for new trials that I have already described on this blog). This time engendered in us the hope and the willingness to risk asking for an unlikely gift, and a space was opened in the history of our family for another child.

Without that accident that God permitted to happen as a consequence of my foolishness, there probably never would have been a Josefina Janaro.

Can anyone imagine this family without her?

Thus what seemed miserable at the time became the beginning of an immeasurable good. And it was not my plan that produced this but God, who works everything for the good.

He allows those who trust in Him to perceive this, or at least to glimpse it a little, enough to muster the courage to take risks.

Endowed With Freedom

"The Church alone, in its tradition, defends the absolute value of the person, from the first instant of conception to the last moment of old age, however decrepit and useless the individual may be. And what is this defense of the human being's value based on? How is it that man has this right, this absoluteness whereby even if the whole world were to move in one direction he has something within which gives him the right to stay where he is? He has something within by which he or she can judge the world from which he or she was born.

"This single human being [is] free from the entire world, free, so that the world together and even the total universe cannot force him into anything. In only one instance can this image of a free man be explained. This is when we assume that this point is not totally the fruit of the biology of the mother and father, not strictly derived from the biological tradition of mechanical antecedents, but rather when it possesses a direction relationship with the infinite, the origin of all the flux of the world,...that is to say, it is endowed with something derived from God....

"So here is the paradox; freedom is dependence upon God.... Either we depend upon the flux of our material antecedents, and are consequently slaves of the powers that be, or we depend upon What lies at the origin of the movement of all things, beyond them, which is to say, God."

--Luigi Giussani   

Nothing But A Poor Prayer

I left everyone in suspense last night. I promised to continue the story, but I am a bit weary. Today I have only a poor prayer from the heart. The rest of the story will come soon.

Lord, have mercy on me!
Give me words that are useful, somehow,
in this moment.
Make me an instrument of what You want to give
and use my weakness and flaws
as well as my talents and gifts
because I just don't know how to separate them
even when I want to be an instrument of Your Love.
I just entrust everything to You.
Carry me in Your merciful Heart.
Jesus I trust in You.
Jesus I trust in You.
Jesus I trust in You.
Dear Mary, merciful Mother, pray for me.

Remembering All Souls Day 2005

I woke up very early on a crisp, clear morning, and a thought immediately took shape in my mind.

It was All Souls Day, November 2, 2005.

For the past several weeks, I had been carrying around the awful burden and the anguish of my friend’s suicide (see October’s posts: The Middle of October and I Cannot Leave Them Alone).

My plan was as clear as it was sudden: I decided to drive up to the monastery that morning. It was not yet dawn. I could get there in time for Mass, make a holy hour for my friend’s soul and his family, confess and speak with my spiritual director, and drive back just in time for my 10:30 class.

I was in my first semester back to teaching after my first struggle with Lyme disease. During the past year I had undergone extensive treatment. I appeared to be in remission, but I still found that I had to pace myself. My health still seemed precarious. This too weighed on me.

And yet on this morning, the world felt light. Anything seemed possible.

I drove up to Holy Cross Cistercian Monastery in Berryville, Virginia on old familiar country roads as the sun came up. And I had another idea. I decided to pray a novena of chaplets to the Divine Mercy: in the next hour I said nine chaplets in a row–this precious novena that we pray on the days between Good Friday and Mercy Sunday, this novena that I prayed in 1995 that God might send me the woman he wanted me to marry and send her “soon” (Eileen called a couple of weeks later and said she wanted to move to Virginia), the chaplet of Divine Mercy that I say every day, that played such an important role in my mature conversion to the Church and has been a continual source of sustenance and consolation and nourishment in building up my life.

I prayed this novena of chaplets as part of my devotions that morning and I had three intentions: (1) for the soul of my friend, and the consolation of his family; (2) for the restoration of my health; (3) that we might have another child.

Teresa was about to turn three. We had our four beautiful children–for a couple that got started in their thirties, we felt blessed. We were grateful. And I was still sick. I was taking a lot of medications. Yet, on that morning, something in me was moved to pray for this, to desire it ardently. Another child. Every child is a miracle and a gift from God. It was a little bold on my part to ask for another, especially since I hadn’t even talked to Eileen. But it was a secret desire in my fatherly heart, and I brought it to God that morning, along with my prayer for the soul of my friend.

I got to the monastery in time for the end of Mass, made my hour of prayer, and then was able to see the beloved old Trappist monk who guided me for nine years of my life, whose advice on prayer, silence, the presence of God and the living of human relationships still remains rooted in me (he is now living in a nursing home, and his mind has become as simple as his prayer; for him perhaps a blessing, but a loss–in one way, at least–for me).

The day seemed kissed by God. The silence of the monastery was a great balm for my aching soul, the words of Fr. Edward were wise, the fall air was fresh and the colors majestic. I took a few pictures with my camera. It had been a beautiful morning, like a taste of heaven.

I looked at my watch and realized that I had to leave in order to get back in time for class. Any former student of mine reading this remembers my Mediterranean sense of time, always “a little late.” I was trying to correct this bad habit. I was determined to be on time for class.

Oh, but first I had to stop in quickly to the gift shop to get a prayer card for the family. That took just a little too much time....

Well, I would just have to make up the time by driving faster on the way back.

God’s grace meets my stupidity. Again. How does He put up with me?

*People, listen to me. DON’T DO THIS! Drive safely. Don’t speed. Don’t think, “I can handle it. I know the road.” A car, when it loses control, can become an instrument of death–for you, or for other innocent people. I don’t care how good you may think you are, or how many times you’ve driven over that road, there are speed limits for a reason. It only takes one mistake, one mechanical failure, one queer obstacle on the road, one slip of the mind, one misjudgment. Yes, life is full of risks, but this is an unnecessary risk. Slow down, pay attention, stop worrying, drive your car safely. Do it for the sake of your family, of other drivers, of yourself.*

. . .

Speeding along and worrying about being on time. The old car’s got a pretty bouncy suspension. Country roads. Watch the curves. Here’s a nice straight stretch. No cars coming the other way.

Oh, railroad tracks. THUNK. What was...?

Airborne.

Heading toward the side. There’s a tree. A tree. Me, the air, and a tree in autumn bloom...in a split second of high speed.

The tree whizzed passed just to the left of the car.

Grass wheels hit spin around I’m bouncing everywhere STOP.

Alone.

Thank God there was no one else coming the other way. Thank God. God forgive me.

. . .

“Are you sure you’re alright sir?” the policeman asked. “Do you want us to take you to the hospital?”

“Oh, I’m fine.” I was sitting on the ground. I was staring. He asked more than once.

“I’m fine. I’m fine.”

A concussion only begins at the time of impact. The brain hits the inside of the skull, and there is a cascade of neurological damage that takes place over the course of the next 72 hours.

*You've just been in a serious car accident? YOU ARE NOT “OKAY”! Get yourself checked out.

I got into the tow truck with the driver.

The car was totaled. It was an old car, and only had liability insurance. This accident was a solo job. “I’m okay, though” I said to myself as the reverberation of the concussion continued to shred neuropathways in my brain.

“What happened to this beautiful day?” I wondered. “What about my prayers? My novena? And the sense that God was taking care of me? How does this fit in?”

How indeed? It was the beginning of a mysterious and dramatic period in my life. November 2, 2005. May the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God rest in peace.

to be continued....

Unknown and "Unlikely" Saints

On this All Saints Day, I am led to ponder the saints in heaven who may never have entered a Catholic church while on earth.

People who do not know about Christ are still loved by God and led by His grace, and if they search for Him and follow what their conscience shows them to be His will, He leads them (in some mysterious way) to say "yes" to the Person of Christ present in their lives, and thus they can be saved by Christ and joined to the Church even if they have never heard of either. This must also be true of people who have "heard" of Christ and the Church, but do not understand them properly through no fault of their own.

Jesus, by becoming man, has united himself in a certain way with every human being. The secret drama of every person's real life is their decision to say "yes" or "no" to Jesus Christ as He makes Himself present in their circumstances. Since Christ’s coming, there have been many people who have never heard of Him, but they have sought God's will, and have sought through the knowledge that was available to them to do what they thought God wanted of them. They love the good, and in that love God's grace is at work so that they can somehow encounter and accept the person of Christ through love even if they do not know His name. If a person truly wants "God's will," then they want Christ even if they don't know it, because Christ is God's will, and Christ places that desire in them. Jesus Christ is what every human person is searching for. And so all those who truly search for the Mystery of life, and beg for that Mystery, will be led in a vital way to God's revelation of that Mystery: Jesus Himself. Thus many who do not know "about" Jesus in a way that they can express or articulate, can still say "yes" to Jesus in their lives through love, through fidelity to the grace that God gives them, and through mysterious ways that we don't understand.

There are various theological theories about how this can happen, and I am not proposing any of them here. Nor am I saying that someone who recognizes the truth about Christ and the Church can reject it in favor of some other path that he or she prefers. If I am truly searching for the One who loves me, and then He shows Himself to me in Person and reveals His Name, how can I not accept Him, let myself be embraced by Him, and embrace Him in return? If fear or my own preferences were to prevail at this point, it would mean the failure of my search rather than its fulfilment.

What I want to point out is the simple fact that God’s grace is central to the life of every human person, and it has ways of working even in those whose connection to the Church cannot be seen by us. It is something to remember on the day in which we celebrate all the saints. God’s mercy is a mystery, but it’s greatness will surely surprise us.

All I Can Do Is Offer Everything To You

O God, what is the design of Your wisdom for the human race? You have willed to manifest and glorify the Mystery of who You are by pouring Yourself out and becoming one of us. You dwell among us and give Yourself up entirely for each and all of us.

You reveal that the Absolute Being is Absolute Love, and You offer that Love to each of us. In your wisdom you shape the hearts of each of us, fashioning us to be Your companions, making us capable of giving and receiving love and then placing Yourself in the midst of us so that we might love You and be loved by You and be transformed into Your likeness.

O Jesus help me.
All I can do is offer everything to You.
You have created me for Yourself.
My heart desires You,
and yet how often do I even think of what I do?
I am resolved to do the best I can.
I am resolved to seek Your will and to do Your will,
because Your will is Love,
and it will always be what will enlarge my soul,
and make me truly free,
because I am made for Love.
So I offer myself to You;
I abandon myself completely to You,
and to Your plan for my life.
I know there is weakness and resistance in me
that I do not know how to overcome.
I know there are ways I must grow that I do not understand.
I know that my life is a mystery hidden in Your wisdom and goodness.

O Jesus, I offer everything to You.
Convert me.
Change me.
Open my heart to the love You give me in this moment.
Carry my soul.
Give me, in Your Infinite Mercy, the willing heart
that loves You in the way You long for me to love You.
I am hindered from the freedom for which I have been made,
the freedom to live as the image and grow as the likeness of God.
And so I abandon myself entirely to Your Mercy.
For You have loved me first,
so that--by the power of Your love--I might love You
and receive You in giving myself to You.
Jesus I trust in You.
Jesus I trust in You, completely.

Not For Myself Alone

What a tremendous thing is the Eucharistic liturgy. The whole of creation is brought to the worship of God in the offering of Jesus Himself, through the ministry of His priests. We are truly blessed to bring ourselves and our lives to offer in union with the Heart of Jesus on Sunday–that special day dedicated to Divine worship. Yet there are so many places, and so many hearts, in which Sunday means nothing. And there are places too where Christians long to participate in the Eucharist, but are prevented by persecution.

I must have a special attention and gratitude for what is being given to me in the Mass. I have to be aware that it is not a personal "religious thing" just for me. It is a gift, and the gift is Love, which cannot be "kept" for myself alone but must be given and given. I am not at Mass for myself alone. I am there for the salvation of the world, to be an instrument of Christ's love for the world and for every one of the billions of human persons who will not be at Mass, who do not know Him or do not understand Him, or who must suffer because of their circumstances.

Your Love Does Not Leave Us Alone

Dear Jesus,
Your Love does not leave us alone.
You became man to be with us,
and so in the torrent of Love that gives without limit,
we find You in our brothers and sisters.
We are not given this life alone;
we walk this road together, with others,
whom You give us,
that we might be together.
You make us a People
in the midst of all the peoples of the world.
A People who belong to each other
and who belong to all peoples,
especially those who are abused
and forgotten
and disdained by this passing age.
You give us to one another,
and through one another You sustain us.
You send us forth together
to remind each other that You are with us on the road,
to be the reflection of Your Presence to one another,
and the support of one another on this road
of suffering and love.
You are with us in our love for one another,
that passes through time and space,
that crosses distances,
that is given through gestures and elements and signs,
that gathers together to express love
and worship
and wonder
in the mystery of Your Presence.
So we are sustained
and Your Love begins to build something new
in the midst of this world,
even making use of our weakness.
We discover in this place,
in this history,
in this People gathered as a great family,
in which the greatest must serve the rest,
in this common love,
in this friendship human and Divine,
We discover You
and Your companionship
in this life
called the Church.
This communion of those who love You
in friendship with one another,
in community,
together in the midst of the world,
across the centuries,
across the continents,
from every language,
from nations and peoples,
destined for all nations,
all peoples
every person
Your love.
Jesus.

The Beginning of a Long Journey

Today is the five year anniversary of Josefina’s first surgery. None of us realized that we were embarking on the beginning of a long odyssey for our family that has lasted to this day. It started with her seven month stay in the hospital and then continued with my subsequent flare-up of chronic Lyme disease and aggravated psychiatric problems which I have often discussed openly in this blog.

I had been in remission in 2006, and had felt better than I had in years. Most of the year had been a remarkable time of recovery, energy, and vigorous re-engagement in the work I loved best: classroom teaching. During the whole time that Josefina was in the hospital, I was in crisis mode, and with the help of Eileen's mother, we were able to keep everything running at home and at school. I thought I still felt good, but, really, my engine started to "overheat." The stress was enormous.

Thus, when Josefina finally came home and everything settled, I stopped functioning on adrenaline and had the physical and psychological meltdown that I describe in the first pages of my book, that ended up putting me in the hospital. I remember the sense of irony I felt when Eileen came in with the baby, and I realized that Josefina was visiting me in the hospital. After all those months of seeing her in a hospital crib on tubes and monitors, here I was, suddenly, in a hospital bed on tubes and monitors with a healthy Josefina in her Mommy’s arms looking down at me! It was like some strange dream.

By Josefina's first birthday I was back on medical leave, and on my way to "retirement." I still don't understand all of what happened, or exactly where I am now. Physically I feel much better, but I'm on a very reduced regimen. Medication, therapy, vitamins, diet. Somehow a book got written in the midst of all these recent years. For the past year, I've lived one day at a time, and most of the days have been pretty good.

I don’t take anything for granted, but I am grateful for so much that I have received. Life is precious and amazing. I pray that God make me the husband, father, teacher, mentor, and friend that He wills me to be. Oh yes, and as my parents get older and begin to be needy, I have suddenly remembered again that I am somebody's son (and somebody's brother too).

It keeps me going.

Josefina Turns Five!

This is the story of a little girl, born on October 26, 2006. She was seven weeks premature, weighed under five pounds and needed surgery to reconstruct her intestines. The first days were full of tension:

But she made it through, and for a while, it looked as though she would be home in a few weeks....

But then the weeks turned into months, seven months in fact.

Daddy used to sing to her

And Mommy visited her every single day

Until the day when she was finally ready to  come home:

We were grateful to have our whole family together at last.

Josefina is still teaching me how to live. She is still teaching me about the joy of living.


Happy Birthday to our littlest one, Josefina Janaro,
October 26


Age: 5

You Have Wounded Us With Your Love

Dear Jesus, I sometimes feel a whole world that cries out for You
but does not know Your name.
So much goodness in souls,
so many hearts that run up against limits
and barriers,
and why are they so restrained?
Why do they not see you?

It is not because You do not love them
with all Your infinite compassion.
You know and hold the hearts of each of them.
And You know the things that prevent them
or hold them back from recognizing You,
and You know what is their fault,
and what they cannot help;
You know what is beyond the reach
of their present human circumstances.
You know the obstacles that not even heroic goodness can overcome.
You know all, and You look upon all with infinite compassion,
with patience;
yet also with the ardent urgency of a Lover
who longs to lavish Himself completely on the one
(each and every one)
that He loves,
and to be loved in return,
so that love might become unity
and communion between God and man.
Each man.
Each woman.

You have this embracing Love
and yet only a few seem to recognize You,
and even fewer to love You
or find any space at all for You in their hearts.
We do not understand how Your love works.
We only know that it works for each and all
with tenderness and passion,
with mercy and forgiveness,
with all the attention of a particular love;
We know that for You,
every human person
without exception
without exception
no one is excluded
every human person
is a Love Affair for You.
That is what the Cross means....

Thank you Lord for showing to us the love of Your heart
and moving us to desire that all the world know You.
For this desire is only a faint echo in us
of the mysterious call You utter in the heart of every person.
Why have You revealed Your love to us?
Not so that we might feel superior to others.
But so that we might be the servants, the messengers,
the images in the world of that Love;
so that every person who encounters us
might meet in that moment some small flash
of the radiance of Your Infinite Love.
So that each person You send us
might have a taste of the mystery,
of the truth,
that he or she is loved by You.

Such is the love You have entrusted to us
and we feel utterly beyond this task;
we feel overwhelmed by the vocation
to bring Your love to those we meet,
to the world.
But praise be to you, Jesus,
for we do not carry this love by ourselves.
Because it is the Cross,
it is carried by You in us,
and we are given the grace to share with You
the wonderful burden of this Love.

We are called,
and this is Your work.
You have wounded us with Your Love.
We have heard You whisper, "my Beloved,"
and we can no longer look at any human being
without hearing that same voice
and feeling that same beautiful pain in our own hearts.
You have given us this road of suffering.
By Your grace, and Your inexhaustible Mercy–
for we shall often fail You–
draw us along the road of this Love,
unite us to You,
carry us for we ourselves are frail,
we are weak and need healing,
we need to be borne completely in Your Loving arms
in the steps of this life You have prepared for us.
Convince us, O Lord,
that You will never fail us.
Your grace and Your Mercy are always sufficient for us.
Take away our fear.
Give us complete trust in You,
Jesus.

Remembering John Paul II

O God, who are rich in mercy
and who willed that the blessed John Paul the Second
should preside as Pope over your universal Church,
grant, we pray, that instructed by his teaching,
we may open our hearts to the saving grace of Christ,
the sole Redeemer of mankind.
Who lives and reigns.

This is the official English translation of the collect for today's memorial for Blessed John Paul II. Although the day is currently publicly observed only in Rome and Poland, the U.S. bishops will likely petition to add it to the Latin rite calendar in America.

Meanwhile, everyone is free to pray this prayer personally (every day if you like!). Blessed John Paul II, pray for us!

Note that the prayer mentions specifically two of his greatest encyclicals, "Rich in Mercy" (Dives in Misericordia) and "Redeemer of Mankind" (Redemptor Hominis), and thereby also highlights two great features of his person: his recognition of the greatness of the Divine mercy and his mystical perception of the relationship of Christ to the life of every human being.

I recently read an observation by a Church leader that one of the most impressive things that has emerged during the canonization process is the depth of John Paul’s interior life, in particular his personal relationship with Jesus Christ. This was the source of his greatness, his holiness, and his humanity. It was because of his profound union with Christ that John Paul II was able to connect in such an intimate and direct manner with so many human beings, to touch the lives of so many individual persons, groups, crowds, nations and peoples, Catholics and non-Catholics, religious people and non-religious people.

The real truth about each of us is that we are made for Jesus Christ. It really is true. And Blessed John Paul II was a man who knew Jesus Christ. This is the reason why he was, and why he remains, so powerful in our lives.

A Great Adventure

I have this whole mysterious rich life. Where does it come from? From the fact that Christ grabbed me and took me into a great adventure.

We are on a great adventure, not in some other world, but right here inside of this life. This is the adventure, even with all the sorrow, and it is He who makes it that way. He takes up our lives, and sends us forth not to forget Him but to continue seeking and finding Him everywhere. Nobody is born taking Christ seriously; those of us who really live for Him and hunger for Him do so because He has touched us and changed us, He has burst into our lives. We all have our "conversion stories"--indeed they are ongoing.

Do I Know Jesus Christ?

I have begun to ask myself the question, "What kind of a relationship do I have with Jesus?"

I believe in Him of course, and in everything that the Church teaches. I worship Him as God the Word, who lives eternally with the Father and the Holy Spirit, ONE God forever and ever. I obey His commands (or at least I try), I pray, I receive the sacraments, and I write about Jesus all the time, with the conviction that the Word made flesh is the Lord of all creation, the center of the cosmos and of history.

But there is more to it than that.

I "know" Jesus Christ, personally. I have "met" Him. It is a mysterious encounter and a mysterious relationship. But it is real, or else none of my relationships are real and my entire life is a joke. It is tremendously and transformingly real. Jesus Christ, Himself, has changed and continues to change my life.

I am not saying that I "know" Him nearly as well as I should, nor that I always know what He wants from me or from others. But He is right in the center of my life, not only as the Almighty God, but also--what a wonder--as my companion, my brother, indeed my friend. It is from that place especially that He asks me to believe in Him in an intimate way, to trust Him.

Jesus I trust in You.

I Trust in You Now

Jesus died on the Cross. Each of us will die. What do we know about the mystery of our own death? Where will my heart be in that hour? Let me entrust it NOW to the Divine Mercy, ask that Jesus insert me into His Most Compassion- ate Heart and that Mary surround me with the maternal love of her heart.

The Lord Jesus and His merciful Mother have claimed that final hour as their own on the Cross, and at the foot of the Cross. I do not want to deny them that hour, and so I offer them what I have now, this hour, this "now"...Jesus I trust in You, through Mary.