Sabbath Sunday #13: Making the Sad Glad

Fr. Christian Mathis (Blessed Is the Kingdom) has made the suggestion that we "rest" on the Sabbath by taking a break from our normal blogging and sharing an older post of which we are particularly fond. Rest? Gladly! I don't get to do that very often, but now, thanks to Fr. Christian, I get to do it at least once a week -- and it gives me more time to spend with God, which is a wonderful gift.

This week has been a sorrowful one. Fr. Barry, my confidante and de facto spiritual advisor, especially when it comes to the mystical experiences I sometimes have, is moving to be chaplain at a retirement community for clerics about an hour away. The positive side is that it is not that far; the down side is that the road between here and there is very winding, sometimes not easily passable, up and down and around through mountains. Still, it could have been Arizona and not California! This week, also, as we were planning a good-bye dinner for a colleague from Jordan together with Fr. Ed, he got called home to Ireland where his mother is seriously ill. The last note I received from him said that he expected to be there for at least another ten days -- and then today I heard that the doctors do not expect his mother to recover. Please pray for him and for his mother -- and for Fr. Barry, too, who is 80+ years old, as he makes this new transition. By comparison, my minor problems with backpack disappearance and reappearance and firing of a friend -- both fraught with temptations for frustration -- were only small potholes on the road.

Now, for that post, I chose one where I had a far more frustrating day/week: Justice or Mercy? I am happy to report that dilemma was resolved within a few days: What a Wonderful Day It was! (Yeah, the latter posting came from last week's Sabbath Sunday -- more than one dilemma was taken care of by that one day. It is amazing how time itself and God over time can turn our big problems into little ones and then turn our little ones inside out, making the sad glad.

Have a blessed Sunday!

7 Quick Takes Friday #17

Back home! Back home! I've been home all week! What pleasure! And now it is time for this week's contribution to the Quick Takes meme hosted by Jennifer Futwiler at Conversion Diary.

1. Saturday morning I started out in Alaska. What a beautiful place! The view from my hotel window was spectacular, but even more spectacular were the views along the mountain roads between downtown Anchorage and the location of our branch office in a relatively rural area. (Sorry to disappoint any Alaskans reading this blog, but the mountains do not compare in any way to the Alps, where I have had many opportunities to hike and walk with friends!)

2. The trip back was far from without incident, and definitely tested my Lenten pledge to give up frustration. My backpack was taken from me in Seattle by the Alaskan Air gate area. It is a complex story, so I will write about it in a subsequent post. Essentially, I made it home just fine. My poor backpack was another story, as was my need to balance computer and breakable good on the airplanes without a backpack. Yi, ai!

3. On Sunday, we held a memorial for Ray. It was good to see Noelle get out of her apartment and gather together with friends to say goodbye to Ray. She has been quite depressed since his death in mid-January and has pretty much kept to herself, not even always wanting to see her parents, let alone her friends. Seeing her smile and laugh together with Ray's friends at the memorial was heartwarming -- and a relief. It was also heartwarming to see who came: representatives of most local ethnic groups (African-American, Native American, Hispanic, and Caucasian). That was Ray. He had a way of bringing together people of different ethnicities.

4. Our prayer group meeting on Monday was also heartwarming. We usually pray at the beginning and at the end. During the meeting, we sing, share experiences, ask for prayers, update each other, do some lectio divina, read scripture, do some spiritual exercises, and the like. The content varies week by week and mood by mood. Interestingly, on Monday night, the mood was very unusual. We spent nearly the whole evening in prayer, and no one wanted to stop. In fact, bringing the meeting to closure, which meant stopping the prayers, was almost painful. We all commented on it because it was not typical.

5. Yesterday I conducted new manager training. It is one of the most enjoyable things I do. New managers are so fresh. They are often new to management. They are certainly new to their positions and often to our organization. We have a wonderfully loving, supportive, and work-dedicated ambiance at work that I don't want to have corrupted by the introduction of managerial approaches that are autocratic or otherwise in direct opposition to our organizational ethos. So, when we start to gather a preponderance of new managers, I talk to them about the principles of servant leadership, which is the leadership philosophy that guides me. The new managers had interesting questions about applications to their current problems. Now those discussions are the meat and potatoes of my existence!

6. And then came this morning. I wrote the following on my face book page: "I don't want to go to work today. Will someone give me permission to stay home and hide out under the bed? I have to fire a friend, currently working as a junior manager, for poor performance. (I did not hire her; my boss forced her on me against my better judgment. Now, he has some embarrassment, too.) Ugh!" Unfortunately, this relatively new junior manager, in three months of training, was unable to learn even the basics of management. I had a team of six people mentoring her on various aspects of her job. All of them came to the conclusion in recent days that not only is she untrainable but also her pride and lack of self-awareness preclude anyone's ability to train her. So, the decision was made to fire now. The firing did not take the normal path, however, and since the story is not quite finished, I will wait and relate details when it is. I will comment, however, that it seems that my prayers for guidance and help in this matter have been answered.

7. Giving up frustration for Lent has been an extraordinary experience in a very short period of time. Once I made that decision, it seems that very trying circumstances come up more frequently now, such as the backpack problem on Saturday and the need to oversee the firing of a friend on Friday. What has been extraordinary has been the constant answer to prayer to hold my frustration at bay. I have also asked people at work to point out when I am getting frustrated; that gives me time to retire to my office and say a prayer before it becomes a full-fledged, unmanageable emotion. I think I made the right decision this year on what to give up. I am at peace (so far) under even trying circumstances. Thank You, God!

Wishing you a great weekend, much peace, and no frustration!

Blest Guest Wednesday #9: Chundra Lela, A Priestess in Search of God

From time to time, it is difficult for me to post regularly, given my crazy travel schedule, which you can follow, if you have such a liking, in the Twitterlets. I have been able to bring a little sanity to the blogging part of my life by asking for help. Some wonderful fellow bloggers have been willing to write guest posts for me on Wednesdays, hence the name "Blest Guest Wednesday."

This week Amrita of India (Yes Garden) returns with another post on an Indian saint.

Chundra Lela, A Priestess in Search of God

Chundra Lela was born in Nepal in 1840, married at seven, and became a widow when she was nine. Chundra’s father taught her to read Sanskrit and educated her as a Brahmin. When she was thirteen, Chundra began a pilgrimage to worship at India’s four great temples. After the seven years she spent visiting these holy places, Chundra was still not at peace, so she continued to visit holy places and shrines. She tried a variety of spiritual disciplines and served as a guru to other seekers.

In her search for God, Chundra Lela endured much suffering and penance. She spent a long time reading and thinking about the holy scriptures. She said, "I felt that for all the outlay of money and time and for all my sufferings I had found nothing soul-satisfying. No knowledge of myself, nor yet of God for a vision of whom I had been willing to endure so much."

When Chundra Lela met some Christians, she read Christian scriptures. She compared the Bible with her holy books and made a deep study of them.

One day she prayed ,"O Jesus if thou art the true God, grant me a vision of Thyself." She says, "While I was still praying, my little house was full of light and a vision such as I am not able to describe. It was the Mighty and Glorious One. I fell on my face before Him and remained thus, my heart overflowing with joy. Then and there I resolved to become a Christian."

Chundra professed faith in Jesus Christ and was baptized. Chundra continued her pilgrimages with a difference: she preached about Jesus. Like Saint Francis of Assisi, Chundra Lela lived by begging. The little she had, she shared.

As she began to preach the message of Christ, she faced severe opposition. She was beaten several times. Once, a man approached her with a sword and threatened to cut off her head. She bared her neck and said, "I will go to God, and you will be accountable for your deed." He didn't kill her, and she went on preaching. Later he came to ask her for forgiveness, and she forgave him.

Chundra Lela traveled all over India and Nepal, spreading the Gospel of Christ. Many times she would teach for hours without food or drink until people reminded her it was time to take rest and refreshment.

Chundra Lela spent her last years living with a disgraced Hindu woman near a road so she could continue to preach to those who passed by. When she grew old, she sat in front of her hut and preached to those passing by. When her final illness took hold of her, her dying words were, "Four bright angels have come to take me to Jesus." Chundra Lela died on November 26, 1907.

Monday Morning Meditation #30: Lead As Jesus Would

As I read about the successors to Solomon in the middle chapters of the book of I Kings, a clear pattern emerged: not only did these kings sin, but they also caused Israel to sin, much in the manner of Solomon sinning and causing Israel to sin at the end of his life, an act that caused God to be angry with him. With Solomon, it began (in earlier chapters of I Kings) with Solomon's taking of foreign wives against the commandment of God, a command with which God had sought to prevent Solomon being converted to foreign gods through the love of foreign wives and concubines.

Reading: I Kings 15: 33-34

Meditation: It may seem like a bit of a stretch to apply this history to modern leadership, but since modern leadership is the stuff of my every day life, I do see parallels and lessons nearly everywhere, including in I Kings. As was written about Baasa, he "did that which was evil in the sight of the LORD, and walked in the way of Jeroboam, and in his sin wherewith he made Israel to sin," so can it be that leaders of all sorts do evil in the sight of the Lord and in their sin make their followers to sin.

As a senior leader, it is easy to forget the influence that one has over the thinking and beliefs of one's subordinates. More than one display of anger, and some junior leaders will consider that heavy-handed approaches are permissible ways to manage. After all, it is easier to demand and to be angry when one's demands are not met than to share governance, listen patiently to someone you just know is wrong, and to compromise when you just know you are right. A lax interpretation of rules and regulations for self benefit tells both junior leaders and employees that cheating is okay if it is only "a little thing." Remembering that deeds speak louder than words can keep one from self-exemption in acting in accordance with moral and ethical standards especially when one thinks one is not being seen. It is much like with our children. If our words and deeds do not match, our children are more likely to emulate what we do than to follow the principles we hope to inculcate in them through education.

It is far easier than we think to lead those who follow us astray, whether that be astray from moral standards, scrupulous adherence to regulations, or willing obedience of God's commands and taskings. For that reason, I ask God to help me at the beginning of every day (often several times during the day as events unfold) to keep me not only from hurting anyone but also from leading anyone astray. I also ask that His love flow through me and splash onto those around me, that both my words and deeds honor Him, and that I set the kind of example for junior leaders and employees that He would have me set. (Of course, even with God's help, I do not always succeed for human emotions intervene from time to time, causing me to forget to refer the given situation back to God.)

In trying to lead as God would have me lead, I find two sources of leadership development helpful. One is the Bible. Just as the passage from I Kings can provide excellent guidance, so can much throughout the Bible -- those situations where leaders excelled and those where they failed. There is another book that I have found to be quite helpful and that I recommend to any leader: Jesus on Leadership (C. Gene Wilkes). For leaders who are not Christians, a very similar book is put out by the Greenleaf Center, The Case for Servant Leadership (Kent Keith, the author of the Paradoxical Commandments that Mother Theresa loved, otherwise known as "Do It Anyway"); while foot-washing is not mentioned in it, it does reflect principles that God taught to leaders and hoped and expected from them throughout the Bible.

These books help me a lot. God (and prayer) help me even more. And the rest I mess up all by myself -- and go running to God to help me fix it!

And that is far as I can go with you this Monday morning. I must retire to prayer to continue to ask for guidance every minute of every day as I interact with junior leaders and rank-and-file employees, to repent for those times that I have set a bad example, to thank God for so often setting straight with my employees what I do wrong, and to give praise for the way in which He leads me and my subordinate leaders to assist and support those who work for us, the ways in which he ensures that we do not harm any of them exceedingly much, and the way in which He has brought much spirituality into our workplace. After that, I will spend time in contemplation, my favorite part of the day, letting God take over the direction in which my relationship with Him moves.

I will now leave you to your prayer and contemplation, but first, I would like to bring to your attention a Monday morning prayer post that you might enjoy:

Fr. Austin Fleming, priest of the Archdiocese of Boston and pastor in Concord, Massachusetts, posts a prayer each Monday morning that he calls "Monday Morning Offering." I enjoy his prayers very much. I hope you also will find them inspirational. He has graciously given me permission to include a link to his blog on my Monday Morning Meditation posts.

For additional inspiration throughout the week, I would point out two sets of blogs: (1) the list of devotional blogs that follow the enumeration of Monday Morning Meditations on the sidebar of this blog and (2) my blogroll, where I am following a number of inspirational priests and writers about spiritual matters. I learn so very much from all these people. I highly recommend them to you.

Sabbath Sunday #13: What a Difference 48 Hours Make!

Fr. Christian Mathis (Blessed Is the Kingdom) has made the suggestion that we "rest" on the Sabbath by taking a break from our normal blogging and sharing an older post of which we are particularly fond. Rest? Gladly! I don't get to do that very often, but now, thanks to Fr. Christian, I get to do it at least once a week -- and it gives me more time to spend with God, which is a wonderful gift.

Since I arrived home yesterday sans an important piece of luggage (a frustrating story and set of learning experiences about which I will post on Tuesday) and had to go to the airport this morning to try to retrieve it, I am only getting around to posting this mid-day, right before leaving for an SFO meeting. For this week, I chose two disparate posts. They came one after the other, two days apart. The first is full of rain, the second full of sunshine -- a wonderful example of how quickly God can turn our lives around. Here are the posts:

It's Raining, It's Pouring!
What a Wonderful Day It was!

Have a blessed Sunday!

7 Quick Takes Friday #16

I write to you from balmy Anchorage. Yes, I made it here although not without a what is common for me now incident. The plane did not fly to San Francisco (45 minutes north), so I had to head to LA (90 minutes south) to catch an Alaskan Airlines flight. It did not make much sense to fly south in order to go to Alaska, but many things don't make sense nowadays. Upon arrival it also did not make sense not to need my winter coat; it is 35 degrees Fahrenheit here with only a couple of feet of snow. I guess winter this year moved to Washington DC. That does not make sense, either. Well, perhaps this week's contribution to the Quick Takes meme hosted by Jennifer Futwiler at Conversion Diary will make a little more sense than my flight plan and the flight of the snow to DC.

1. On Saturday, Donnie and I attended the wedding of Roger (and his now-wife Cass). Roger co-leads our prayer group, which turned out in full force and became the rowdy table at the reception. Fun stuff! Roger works at the local Franciscan retreat center and friary, and the friars turned out in full force. A former elderly resident, Fr. Gavin, drove all the way down from San Francisco to be there for Roger, and a musician from the center provided the music at the wedding. It was like a large family event. Really fun stuff!

2. On Sunday, Valentine's Day, a friend and I attended the monthly Contemplation for Busy People seminar that Fr. Kevin Joyce leads in Campbell. It's a bit of a drive but is very much worth it. I have learned much from Fr. Kevin, and I recommend this seminar (and any other one he does) to anyone who lives within driving distance of San Jose, California. Since Doah lives in nearby Santa Clara, Donnie drove us, and while Silvia and I were at the seminar, he and Doah went out for a Valentine's dinner. Hm... Does anyone see anything odd about this picture?

3. Monday was a holiday! Yay! I was able to catch up on a number of things at home -- except taxes, which was what I had planned to do, but, as we all know, thanks to Robert Browning, "the best-laid plans of mice and men aft gang aglay." I did go to noon Mass, after which a friend, Marie (who helps out with RCIA and did so when I was in RCIA), and I stopped by the local bakery for a drink. She had coffee; I had milk. Our usual! (My milk-drinking addiction is a source of quite some amusement on business trips. Others drink martinis; I drink milk. We all have our little quirks and addictions, don't we?)

4. Monday evening, mu husband Donnie, a friend from Jordan, Fr. Ed, and I had dinner at Petra, a restaurant in a nearby town on the eve of my birthday. We were going to talk about how to drag Fr. Ed to Jordan with us in April. As for my birthday, I had planned to give up aging for Lent, i.e. wait to celebrate it until after Lent. Fr. Ed had other ideas. He showed up with a gift and had talked the restaurant owners, who are friends of his (from Jordan, ironically), into putting a candle into my dessert baklava. So much for giving up aging for Lent!

5. Tuesday, off I went to work. It was going to be my only day in the office this week because of coming here to Alaska, but I also ended up going in on Wednesday, a rough day that I posted about yesterday. I was surprised by two of my employees dragging me out for a birthday lunch at a Texan BBQ. Sheesh! Two days in a row! While I enjoyed it, my diet suffered by a positive three pounds (i.e. gain). I am supposed to be working on negative numbers. Fortunately, it was only a blip; two of the pounds disappeared as of this morning. Yes!

6. On Tuesday, my birthday, Lizzie posted on her face book page a list of "Lessons from Mom." It was a surprise and a wonderful birthday present. Hearing what one's children really think about you is always quite interesting. I copied Lizzie's post onto the Clan of Mahlou blog. If you would like to read Lizzie's lessons from Mom, some of which are serious and others of which are humorous, click here.

7. The season of Lent arrived this week (image from St. Boniface Church). I guess that is not news to anyone. Given my strict diet, which I have followed scrupulously except for the two birthday exceptions, there is nothing I can give up of food items for Lent. I am eating only required and healthy food and fewer than 1000 calories a day. Nope, nothing there to give up. However, I did find something I would like to give up: frustration. After the difficulties earlier this week at work, accompanied by mounting frustration, I realize that I need to eliminate the frustration, just like I eliminated worry a long time ago (with rare exception do I ever worry about anything once it is in God's hands). I am truly serious about this. I have told fellow Catholics at work so that they can help by pointing out when it seems that I am becoming frustrated, and I will pray about it until the non-frustration habit is established as strongly as the non-worry habit. Indeed, since I cannot give up aging, I think giving up frustration is the next best thing for a Lenten commitment this year.

And now the week is about to end. If you live in the South, keep warm. If you live in the North, pray for snow. (Ma tells me that there is too little snow in Maine; this is a problem because snow protects the roots of berry bushes and trees, which can be killed off by the cold without insulation.) And to all everywhere, my best wishes for a great weekend!

A Lenten Gift

I had great plans for Ash Wednesday. I was going to take off work, even had the vacation time approved by my boss, who is currently out of town. I planned to spend the morning at the St. Francis Retreat Center where Days of Lenten Recollection are offered every Wednesday during Lent. It has been such an overwhelmingly stressful couple of months that a day off at the retreat center seemed like a wonderful gift to myself. I went to bed, happily ready to start dreaming about a day of peace, with no fires to put out, no high visibility projects to shepherd through obstacle courses, and no static-filled environment, intruding into the silence I often desperately seek in vain for conversation with God.

I had difficulty falling asleep Tuesday evening (actually, early Wednesday morning), however. I felt tugged toward email even though I had read the last incoming missive of the day only a half-hour earlier and had closed down the computer. Sleepily, I pushed the on button. Oh, no! There was a slate of new email from work! After midnight?! I had better read it. With a bit of trepidation, I looked at the latest note. It came from our Washington office and demanded to know why a planned business trip from one of my subordinates had been cancelled. Cancelled? I had not cancelled it. It was essential that she be in Washington Thursday afternoon. I looked at the next note. It was from a senior manager, who had been out sick, and the supervisor of the employee with the cancelled trip. He said he would come in to work on Wednesday, sick or not, and wanted to know why I had cancelled this important trip. Cancelled? I had not cancelled it. Now I was very awake! I started reading through a rash of messages between the employee and the Washington office. After wending my way through one particular thread, I found what I was looking for: a comment from her to him that I had cancelled the trip. What? Cancelled? I had not cancelled her trip. So much for the rest of the night. I sent notes to my assistant and the assistant to the senior manager, asking if they had authorized trip cancellation. I had to wait until 6 in the morning to get their negative response. I also wrote to the senior manager and suggested that he not come in if he were sick. (He came in.)

I tumbled into bed around 4, planning to get up at 6 to find out if there were any responses. So much for taking Wednesday off. I made plans to go to work. There was no alternative, especially since that would be my last day before leaving for Alaska.

I got up early, took a shortened period of time for prayer, and then checked the email. The negative responses were not enlightening. I had to get to work and get the employee on the plane. Or did I? I had planned to go to the Ash Wednesday Mass at the retreat center, but since I could not go there after all, I had changed those plans to attend the Spanish Mass in the evening. However, Fr. Ed was offering an early morning Mass in English. I would be considerably late to work were I to go to it. However, I needed more than my shortened prayer time, so I put aside my time-essential concern over the employee with the cancelled trip, sent a note to the assistant senior manager re getting her on a plane somehow, and informed him and my assistant that I would be in, but late. Then I went to Mass, where I found peace, prayed for wisdom, received the ashes, and left for work.

I really did need wisdom because the senior manager had been failing at one high visibility project after another, not getting the people hired that we needed, and not supervising well the people he had. He has talent and is dedicated. He is also very loyal to me and does anything I ask of him. The problem is that he did not get his second-level set of supervisors hired in a timely fashion -- we do not yet have them. So, he has to supervise by himself all the new projects, and he simply does not have time. Last week, I pressed him to fill behind his assistant manager who is leaving soon for another position. He said that he wanted to wait and see if an incoming intern could do the job. (No!) At the time, my arguments held no sway, and I left his office frustrated. I remained frustrated until Monday, when the senior manager was out ill and I found him an assistant, someone I could promote from another division who could start immediately. I had already talked to that other person and his supervisor, and the position had been accepted. I have never gone around a senior manager and hired someone for her or him before. Now I had to break the news to the senior manager -- along with trying to resolve the dilemma of the cancelled trip and deal with an employee who took undelegated authority upon herself to cancel her own trip. Oh, Lord! I needed help!

I am so glad I went to Mass. My frustrations melted away. I found enough inner peace that I could listen. I needed to listen.

"How do I handle this?" I asked, more to myself than anything else. This manager is very sensitive, and if all the issues I had to discuss with him (there were others beyond just the cancelled trip and the new assistant manager) were not handled well, I could end up with more problems, not fewer, and a very unhappy and offended senior manager.

"Oh, Lord," I repeated, "How do I handle this?"

And then I heard: "with kindness, gently." Now those are not my strongest traits, but at least I had a direction in which to work.

When I got to work, nothing had been done about the cancelled trip, so I accompanied the assistant manager to talk to the employee who needed to go to Washington. To make a long story short, she has now reached Washington. We ticketed and planed her within minutes.

Then the senior manager came in, and it was time to confess my "sins" to him. I said a quick prayer for that gentleness that is not second nature to me and dove through his door. I could tell that he was hurting -- overwhelmed, sick, feeling like he had failed me and the organization, and pretty much at wit's end. There was no defensiveness. I asked about his health and talked about the other problems, looking for some solutions. Then I broached the topic of the new assistant manager, telling him that I had done something that he might not like but that I had done for him, to rescue him from his own willingness to take on too much with too little help. When I pronounced the name of the new assistant manager, the senior manager broke out in a big smile.

"I am so pleased," he said. "That is the perfect person. I can't believe he agreed. I would have been hesitant to approach him. Thank you!"

Wow! I floated back to my office (maybe I actually took a little skip). I had a dental appointment and had to leave in just a few minutes, but decided to do a final check of email before leaving for the day. There was an enote from an employee in Texas. She is very ill and had run out of sick leave. I had sent out a note to all 400 employees, asking anyone who could afford to do so to join me in donating some of our vacation time to her so that she would not be without income. People have been donating. She had found out about it, and wrote the following to me:

"Since you came, I have felt that we are just one big family. Big and spread out around the world, but supportive of each other. Today that feeling has been confirmed as reality. Thank you!"

I got up this morning, feeling discouraged. I came home after work, feeling elated. Thanks to the guidance of God, the right words somehow came to me at the right time, my bull-in-a-china-shop directness was somehow blunted, the people I touched were affected positively, and I realized that I really love my job, a job that God insisted I take and keep. (I wrote a post about that once.)

I did not get my planned gift to myself today: a morning at the retreat center. I got something better: happy employees, thanks to divine help. Thank You, God, for my gift today!

Blest Guest Wednesday #8: Dear Jesus

From time to time, it is difficult for me to post regularly, given my crazy travel schedule, which you can follow, if you have such a liking, in the Twitterlets. I have been able to bring a little sanity to the blogging part of my life by asking for help. Some wonderful fellow bloggers have been willing to write guest posts for me on Wednesdays, hence the name "Blest Guest Wednesday."

As I am leaving for Alaska this week, I am especially appreciative to today's "Blest Guest," Colleen (Thoughts on Grace), who has contributed a letter to Jesus.

Dear Jesus,

Lent has begun. A season of renewal. A time of spiritual growth.

I want to grow closer to you, Lord, and I am not sure how. Usually I try to DO too much during Lent. But I sense that you do not want that from me this year. I sense that you want me to focus more on you, Jesus. To keep my eyes on you.

I sense this because I keep thinking of Mary and Martha. You tell Martha that Mary has chosen the better part - sitting at your feet and listening to you.

I feel that pull, Lord. I feel that call to sit at your feet and listen.

So with that in mind, this is my plan for Lent.

Fasting – I am already on a diet to lose weight, so any dietary restriction seems to be more for me than for you.

Instead, I have decided to fast from complaining. I think I often complain without even realizing it. It can be a habit and I would like to lose this habit! I would like to create a new one! With your grace, Lord. With your grace.

Almsgiving – this one is between you and me, Jesus, OK?

Prayer – Here is where I often set out to do too much. But this year, Jesus, I wish to sit at your feet. Here are some ideas of mine:

Spend more time in silent prayer before you.

Go to daily Mass as often as my work schedule permits.

Read ONE Lenten devotional everyday instead of 3 or 4!

Listen to spiritual music and reflections in the car on my way back and forth to work.

This seems like a simple list. Much simpler than usual, for me. What do you think, Lord? Still too much? Not enough?

Jesus, please guide me over the next 40 days and beyond. Help me to keep my eyes and heart focused on you.

Jesus, help me make it all about you, rather than all about me.

I long to sit at your feet everyday. Not just during Lent, but for the rest of my life.

Jesus, I love you.

Monday Morning Meditation #29: Let Me Discern Between Good and Evil

As I moved on into the book of I Kings, David's long reign came to an end and Solomon was annointed king after a failed attempt by Adonijah to appoint himself king. Shortly after becoming king, Solomon had a dream in which God asked him how could he gift him, to which Solomon replied, "Give Thy servant an understanding heart to judge Thy people, that I may discern between good and evil," whence came what we speak of today as Solomon's great wisdom.

Reading: I Kings 3:19

Meditation: Discernment between good and evil -- what a great gift! And to have the wisdom to think to ask for that instead of something more evanescent or of lesser ultimate value! Solomon did indeed choose well. May we all, if ever given the chance, choose as well.

I suppose that this particular action/verse stopped me in my tracks because this is been a topic that has had me in its grip in recent days. I posted yesterday on Modern Mysticism about nightmares and the visitation by evil forces while asleep at a time when I did not want to believe that Evil, as such, could really exist. I have also posted earlier on Blest Atheist about some unnerving experiences that seemed to be Evil up to no good.

At times, I find it very difficult to discern between Good and Evil. Perhaps this is because I expect to find only Good. (Yes, I am naive in that way.) Perhaps it is because I expect God to protect me from all Evil. (I suppose I am naive in that way, too, although God has never failed to rescue me.) Perhaps Evil can be so enticingly sweet at times that I simply do not want to believe that it is really Evil. (Yes, triply naive, I admit it.)

A couple of years ago, a friend told me that he was being chased by Evil. I remember how scary that was. I remember how much time we spent in prayer together. I also remember how much time I spent in prayer alone, dedicated to begging God to deliver my friend from evil: 20 hours! In the end, Evil lost and God won. It was, however, a battle. I guess that this is what we are being told over and over again in the Bible: there is a battle between Good and Evil, and we are often part of it.

Most recently, an acquaintance with whom I am required to interact at times seems to be caught in a battle between Good and Evil over him, but he does not seem to recognize it. I have pointed it out, and I have seen his face take on strange castings, so strange that I am relieved that I have never had to be alone with him at these moments. I am not the only one who has noticed these facial disturbances and a sense of evil, not emanating from within him but present all around him. He is a believer and professes belief, but sometimes the words sound hollow and his eyes look vacant. I don't know how to help or whether I should help or even if I have properly discerned evil in this case. I may be completely wrong. So, I pray for him. And I pray for me -- for the kind of discernment that God gave to Solomon (even for a small part of it).

And that is far as I can go with you this Monday morning. I must retire to prayer to continue to ask again for greater discernment, to repent for those times that I have mistaken Evil for Good, to thank God for protecting me from evil when I was too naive to know that I was surrounded by it, and to give praise for the way in which He leads me to safety even when I do not know where I am going except that I am following Him. After that, I will spend time in contemplation, my favorite part of the day, letting God take over the direction in which my relationship with Him moves.

I will now leave you to your prayer and contemplation, but first, I would like to bring to your attention a Monday morning prayer post that you might enjoy:

Fr. Austin Fleming, priest of the Archdiocese of Boston and pastor in Concord, Massachusetts, posts a prayer each Monday morning that he calls "Monday Morning Offering." I enjoy his prayers very much. I hope you also will find them inspirational. He has graciously given me permission to include a link to his blog on my Monday Morning Meditation posts.

For additional inspiration throughout the week, I would point out two sets of blogs: (1) the list of devotional blogs that follow the enumeration of Monday Morning Meditations on the sidebar of this blog and (2) my blogroll, where I am following a number of inspirational priests and writers about spiritual matters. I learn so very much from all these people. I highly recommend them to you.

Only in San Ignatio

San Ignatio is a wonderfully quiet, peaceful, and crime-free place. Or at least it was until a couple of months ago when suddenly there was a rash of car break-ins. No one knew what to make of it, and without a police force (we have a sheriff and deputy for the county who occasionally cruise the town), catching the thief seemed unlikely until, in true San Ignatio fashion, along came help. Here is the front-page story from our newspaper, The San Ignatio Star (more exciting than most of our front-page stories):

RASH OF RECENT CAR BURGLARIES THWARTED BY HARLEY THE DOG
by John Hopper

Over the past couple of months a sudden increase in auto burglaries has taken place in town, including the police vehicle of Mayor Ed Lavarone as well as this reporter's vehicle. At press time, rumors of some 20 break-ins were being circulated around town. Undersheriff Pat Turturici confirmed that the numbers were more like seven and definitely less than a dozen.

According to San Ignatio resident Jeff Bagley, he was awakened around 1:30 a.m. one morning during the week of February 1 by the sudden growling of Harley, Bagley's dog. "He was looking out the window growling, and the hair was standing up on his back. he was really upset," said Bagley. Peering out the window, Bagley saw a sweatshirt-hooded scoundrel going from car to car in the parking lot, wiping the dew from the car windows and examining the contents with a flashlight.

With Harley keeping an ever-close eye, Bagley dialed the Sheriff's Dispatch Center to give a second-by-second account of the perpetrator's activity. Nearby deputies quickly emerged on the scene. "I saw him go around the side of one of my neighbors' car just about the time the Sheriffs were showing up," said Balgey. Bagley later learned that the vehicle had been entered and a wallet taken. Deputies contacted the suspected burglar a short distance away from the scene but did not find the wallet in his possession.

At press time, Undersheriff Turturici said that an arrest was imminent in this string of auto burglaries but was unable to comment on specifics.

Harley the dog was found by Bagley on the streets of San Ignatio about 10 yers ago. He found the owners and returned Harley, but when he found the dog wandering the streets a second time some weeks later, the owners said they no longer wished to care for Harley. Harley, a Chihuahua and Rat Terrier mix, is believed to be about 14 years old. Although Harly was very ill this past month or so, Bagley says Harley is much better now but still not 100%. Harley enjoys taking walks, chasing squirrels, and going to work with Bagley. "When I was on the Fire Department, Harley loved to ride in the engine," said Bagley.

Harley did not have a statement for the Star and was very apprehensive about having his picture taken.

The Star will be nominating Harley to the Sheriff's Office and the Mayor for a special Crime Prevention Award.

Send Harley a thank you note c/o The San Ignatio Star.

7 Quick Takes Friday #15

As I look around me and see that it is Friday again and time to contribute to 7 Quick Takes Friday, a meme hosted by Jennifer at Conversion Diary, I am happy to report that I am still in sunny California.

1. (Picture: my friend's dog before additional snow fell!) We had visitors at work this week from Washington DC (amazing that they even got out), who have told us horror stories of being housebound there. One even put a shovel in his trunk so that he can dig his way back into his house when he returns! Did I say that I am glad to be in sunny California at the moment? Did I say that I am thankful to be here? Did I also say that I am being sent to Alaska next week? Wrong direction! Wrong direction! (Well, for this time of year; otherwise, I would be very happy to go to Alaska. My cousin is married to the chief of one of the Native American tribes there and is an artist laureate of Alaska, so going to Alaska is really a pleasure. I suspect, though, that returning from an Alaskan winter experience will be an even greater pleasure.)

2. We have had good news this week from several quarters. Yes, it is about time! The first piece of good news is that my brother's long-vintage girlfriend, who has been struggling with cancer, has just been declared to be in remission!!!!!! Yes!!!!! Now my brother can leave his New England home peacefully for a two-month assignment in San Diego. Two months! Yes! San Diego! Yes! In San Diego he is less than a day's trip from us in San Ignatio. Last year he came to visit, and we are hoping that, given the timing, he will be able to drive up this year, too, just in time for my February birthday. (We may change the celebration day because, in order to work with my brother's timing, it will conflict with Lent -- too many people giving up too many different things to do a good celebration, so I guess this year we will do a "moveable feast" -- or is that moveable birthday?)

3. The second piece of good news is mixed, but good. Noelle, as you may have noticed from my sidebar, is still fighting her bone disease and still staving off amputation of both feet. Several weeks before Ray died, she had been told that there was no choice but amputation. However, a doctor soon appeared on the scene -- a new guy in town -- who had some other ideas. He scheduled surgery for two weeks ago, but for some reason none of us know, when she showed up at the hospital, there was no record of the doctor having scheduled anything at all. She made an appointment and just got in to see him yesterday. The result? The bone disease in her right foot is gone, and she no longer has to do any care for it! Yes!!!!! (She is still scheduled for surgery, date unknown, for the left foot; we will deal with that when the time comes.)

4. I, too, had some good health news although I have not shared earlier that I have had any health issues to manage. Well, I have had them. They are probably of long-term vintage, but they are definitely of short-term knowledge. When I went into the clinic to get my very mild blood pressure pills re-prescribed, there was a new doctor. He did a quick and partial physical exam and heard a heart murmur. That was no surprise to me. I have had a systolic ejection murmur IV all my life. All my kids have the same thing. It is a functional, not a structural, murmur and is quite innocuous. I explained this to the new doc and thought he understood. However, two days later the clinic called me to tell me that he had made an appointment with a cardiologist for me! Sighing, I tripped over to the cardio guy to put the rumor to rest once and for all. I explained the whole situation to that doc, telling him that my heart is just fine. Yes, it goes squish-squish, instead of thump-thump, when someone listens to it, but that is an innocuous anomaly not of any great concern. Th doc listened patiently but insisted on an an electrocardiogram, the first I have ever had. He did not like the results. There is an electrical discrepancy caused by a left branch bunch node (what a name!). Essentially, it means that my heart does not keep up with me. (Donnie says that this is nothing to be concerned about since no one can keep up with me -- why should my heart be any different!) The doc then insisted on checking my cholesterol. I patiently explained to him that my cholesterol was fine (it had been checked a year earlier). He responded, "You told me your heart was fine." Oh! He insisted on the cholesterol test and an echocardiogram. To make a long story short, to the doc's surprise, the echocardiogram showed a functionally strong heart (that goes squish-squish instead of thuump-thump), about which the doc kept shaking his head, not understanding how this could be the case. So, instead of saying that I have a structurally fine heart with a functional anomaly, now I have to say I have a functionally fine heart with a structural anomaly. The cholesterol? At the very top of the normal scale. However, Dr. Doc still fretted, this time about my weight. He told me that if I were to lose 25 pounds, he thinks there will be no more structural damage (which was probably caused by untreated high blood pressure -- did not know for a long time that I had it), naturally lower blood pressure, and naturally lower cholesterol (because of changed eating habits). Ah, diet time! Sigh! I don't particularly like food or eat a lot. I certainly don't crave and sometimes forget to eat a particular meal. However, I get pressed into a lot of social eating because of my job -- guests, especially dinner guests, occur many times a month. Everyone has been understanding, though. I have had to go in for weekly checks, except for when I was in Lithuania (that would have been complicated). So, I lost one pound, then two pounds, then left for Lithuania. Yesterday at the weight check, I had lost another 8 pounds. Gotta go back next week, but I am not getting any more lectures from the doc. Nonetheless, he is still functioning on a doverai, no proverai (trust, but verify) basis! Oh, my! Look how long I have gone on about one simple thing! Sorry!

5. Yesterday was an enforced eating situation, but I was careful. Two of our Chinese specialists married Chinese mates, and we had a pre-wedding ceremony Chinese style, replete with very tasty but fattening Chinese food. It was interesting to see the differences between Chinese and American weddings. Some things, such as cake cutting and rice throwing, were the same. Other things, like the men telling the women in front of everyone why and how they loved them were not only different but touching. Then everyone took turns making a short formal well-wishing speech, including yours truly. (That caught me by surprise and because I was the senior person from our office in attendance, I had to go first, having no idea what I was supposed to say. Well, some good words I did say, but I missed the traditional ones that everyone else there, all of whom knew the culture, said, such as wishing the couples a marriage sweet as honey, a life as strong as diamonds, and a career like gold. Or something along those lines -- my presence made it a requirement to translate everything into English, so I know I miss some things entirely and some details in other cases. Unfortunately, Chinese is not one of the languages I speak.)

6. My "son" from Jordan is back in town. Briefly, "ibni" (the Arabic expression for "my son" - ibn is son; you may have seen that word, another variation of which is bin or ben; -i means my), which is what I call him in person and in writing, became ibni when my office sent a delegation to Jordan in 2006. Ibni is one of my lower level program managers, and he was in the delegation. We visited his family who had made a marvelous Jordanian meal for us. Like all Jordanian meals, however, it was so much and so slow-paced that we were there from noon until evening. The others in the delegation wanted to see the Dead Sea, 45 minutes away, and the sun was dropping. However, we had not begun dessert, and leaving early would have been rude by Arab standards. Donnie and I, who had lived in Jordan for two years (Donnie was still living there at the time although I had already returned to the USA), offered to stay with ibni's parents since we could handle the Arabic on our own (ibni had been interpreting for everyone) while ibni took the others to the Dead Sea. Ibni's mother, a traditional Arab woman, who conservatively dressed in black abaya and black hijab, broke down and told me how much she missed ibni and how she worried about his safety in the USA. (There is a general sense in Jordan that life in the USA is unsafe; when I had a residency permit there and would travel back to the USA for visits, Jordanian border guards would tell me to be careful because it was dangerous in the US). I promised her that I would be in loco parentis (or is that in loco matris?) for her son, and her relief was so deep-felt that I have taken the mothering role seriously. He is the age of my own children, and he has come to know them through family outings. He also comes to Mass with me, and on this past Wednesday he came to Bible Study class. He had been coming to Bible Study with me two years earlier until he was assigned to Cairo, Egypt, so everyone there was happy to see him on Wednesday. (He will be working here on a temporary assignment for a month.)

7. Shane and Lemony decided to take the kids to Disneyland. It was a trip planned before he lost his job, and the first that they have been able to get away in two years because of all the medical issues with Nikolina. It will be Nikolina's first trip out of reach of Stanford University Hospital, but she is doing very, very well -- unbelievably well, considering her very difficult start and very tentative initial hold on life. She is now a bouncing, inquisitive, happy, clearly smart 9-month-old baby, so off they head south for some fun, finally. On the employment front, California Highway Patrol, where Shane worked for 12 years, has offered him a job at his former level of seniority. He had left because of the low pay, and the pay is still low, but the benefits that he needs for Nikolina are good. He will manage. Money isn't everything, as the Mahlou clan well knows!

I hope that your week has been as good as ours, and, if not, that your next week will be!

Blest Guest Wednesday #7: Pandita Ramabai, Indian Christian Liberator of Women

From time to time, it is difficult for me to post regularly, given my crazy travel schedule, which you can follow, if you have such a liking, in the Twitterlets. I have been able to bring a little sanity to the blogging part of my life by asking for help. Some wonderful fellow bloggers have been willing to write guest posts for me on Wednesdays, hence the name "Blest Guest Wednesday."

As today's "Blest Guest," Amrita from India (Yesu Garden) contributes Part 2 of her presentation of saints from India with a female saint, Pandita Ramabai.

PANDITA RAMABAI: INDIAN CHRISTIAN LIBERATOR OF WOMEN

" A strong woman is a woman who is determined to do something others are determined not be done." These words by Marge Piercy describe Pandita Ramabai, who was born in an era in which women were oppressed and thought to be genetically inferior to men. She turned out to be a liberator of Indian women, an educator and crusader for the girl child.

Here is a short sketch on her life taken from Robert Ellsberg book:

"All Saints:Daily Reflections on Saints , Prophets,and Witnesses from our Time".

"People must not only hear about the kingdom of God but must see it in actual operation, on a small scale perhaps and in imperfect form, but a real demonstration nevertheless."
Pandita Ramabai, a poet, scholar, and champion of the rights of women, has been acclaimed as a "mother of modern India." In her own time, she struggled hard, as a Christian convert, to define her own identity and spiritual path, in the process drawing criticism from Hindus and fellow Christians alike. She remains an intriguing example of the effort to bridge the spiritual traditions of the East and West; both sides felt the challenge posed by this courageous and independent woman.

Ramabai was born in Karnataka (South India) in 1858. She was the daughter of a wealthy Brahmin scholar and his much younger wife. Though her father was a devout and orthodox Hindu, he scandalized his high-caste friends by teaching his wife and later his daughters to read the Sanskrit classics. This talent later stood Ramabai well when her family perished during a great famine. At the age of sixteen, Ramabai walked across India, visiting the holy Hindu shrines and attracting astonished audiences to her recitation of Sanskrit poetry. Her knowledge of Sanskrit, the sacred language of Hinduism, eventually won her fame and honor. She was given the honorific title "Pandita," mistress of wisdom.

Soon Ramabai had become the leading advocate for the rights and welfare of women in India.

She married at the age of twenty-two, but her husband died of cholera after only sixteen months, leaving her alone with an infant daughter, Manorama. Her travels in India and now her present circumstances sensitized her to the bleak plight of widows and orphans. The practice among higher castes of betrothing young girls to much older men (her own mother had been nine, her father over forty, at the time of their marriage) had contributed to the vast number of widows, women without status or protection. Ramabai set out to do something about this social problem, establishing centers for widows and orphans in Poona and later Bombay, where the women were given basic education and training in marketable skills. Soon Ramabai had become the leading advocate for the rights and welfare of women in India.

Her work brought her into contact with Christian missionaries. In 1883, she accepted an invitation by a congregation of Anglican nuns to visit England. For some time, Ramabai had felt a distance from her Hindu upbringing, both on spiritual grounds and on the basis of her perception of the status of women in India. While in England, she undertook a serious study of the Bible and eventually asked to be baptized.

The gospel of Christ represented for her the purest expression of her own spiritual intuitions, in particular her growing belief that to serve women and the poor was a religious and not simply a social work.

News of her conversion provoked angry public controversy in India. Ramabai herself wrestled with her strong aversion to the cultural imperialism of foreign missionaries in India. She was determined that becoming a Christian should not be construed as a denial of her Indian culture and roots. The gospel of Christ represented for her the purest expression of her own spiritual intuitions, in particular her growing belief that to serve women and the poor was a religious and not simply a social work.

She returned to India and continued her charitable work, among other things founding a center for unwed mothers, a program for famine relief, and a series of schools for poor girls. Now, ironically, it was her fellow Christians who became her public critics. They charged that because she made no effort to convert the poor women in her centers her own conversion was only superficial. They also pressed for proof of her doctrinal orthodoxy. Ramabai refused to be drawn into theological or confessional debates. "I am, it is true, a member of the Church of Christ, but I am not bound to accept every word that falls down from the lips of priests or bishops.... I have just with great efforts freed myself from the yoke of the Indian priestly tribe, so I am not at present willing to place myself under another similar yoke."

...she learned that the heart of true religion was the love of God and the love of one's neighbor as oneself.

Ramabai criticized the profusion of Christian denominations, a fact, she believed, that was bewildering to the poor. The spirit of Christ as reflected in the Bible sufficed to satisfy her own religious questions. From that source, she learned that the heart of true religion was the love of God and the love of one's neighbor as oneself. That she live by this creed, she insisted, was all that anyone had a right to ask of her. In later years, she prayed not for the conversion of Hindus but for the conversion of Indian Christians.

She died on April 5, 1922, at the age of sixty-four.

Professor A.B.Shah, a member of the State Board for Literature and Culture for the Government of Maharashtra, writes :

Pandita Ramabai Saraswati (1858-1922) was the greatest woman produced by Modern India and one of the greatest Indians in all history. Her achievements as a champion of women's education and social reform remain unrivaled even after a lapse of nearly a century since she first appeared on the scene. She was a Sanskirt scholar who at the age of twenty was publicly honored by the Shastris of Calcutta as a Pandita and a modern incarnation of Saraswati, the Hindu goddess of learning. She was the first to introduce the kindergarten system of education in India. Most important of all, she was the first to rebel against the inhuman slavery to which widows were subjected in society and to lay the foundation of a movement for women's liberation in India.

You can visit the Ramabai Mukti Mission website HERE. You can get upon request a free copy of Pandita Ramabai’s biography authored by Nicol MacNicol and my author friend Vishal Mangalwadi.

- Amrita from India

Monday Morning Meditation #28: I Have Met My Enemy, and He Is My Friend

This week I finished I Samuel and read all of II Samuel. I have no idea why I just kept reading, with nothing touching me as a possible topic for meditation. Then, I realized that the two books taken together, with the stories of Saul chasing after David hither and yon, most usually for the purpose of trying to kill him, and David chasing hither and yon after women, with frequent time taken out for battle, provided a rich sujet for pondering.



Reading: I & II Samuel



Meditation: My first reaction after reading all the battles of Saul and all the battles of David, of the killing, of the deception was "what a bloody time that was" and "thank God I live in the 21st century. Then the image of all the wars going on today came to mind: the wars in which the US involved, the civil wars going on, and even the personal enmities that appear among supposed friends and in families. We are not far from David's time at all.



Then my mind wandered back to the Cold War. At that time, I was serving in the military, first as a soldier, then later, having received a direct commission, as an officer. The propaganda machine on both sides of the Atlantic churned out hatred day and night -- Americans of Russians and Russians of Americans. Hatred, fear, misunderstanding, cultural loathing, and all manner of ill along the very lines related in the books of Samuel. So how far have we truly come in the development of humanity?



Two incidents come to mind when I ask that question and when I think of war. One was a story from WWII in Belarus that was related to me by a decendent of the woman who experienced the incident. The other happened to me personally. I related both a while back on Mahlou Musings but will repeat them in full here although they are a bit long.



(1) Belarus. During WWII, advancing German troops would burn down entire Belarusan communities. To escape detection, the citizens of the towns would flee to the surrounding swamps as the Germans approached. In one small village, a mother of many grabbed her children and fled, only to discover to her horror upon reaching the wooded swamp that she had inadvertently left her infant in his crib. She wanted to go back after him, but it was too late. The Germans were already at the edge of town, and the townspeople made the mother stay in the swamp for fear of her giving away their position to the German enemy. The mother wept for her lost infant for three days. When the Germans vacated, the townspeople returned to their razed town, hoping to rebuild it. The mother walked along with them, in the blackest of grief. As the townspeople reached the outskirts, they saw one house still standing, the house that contained the crib of the infant who had been left behind. The mother, hardly breathing as a result of overlapping waves of fear and hope that crushed the breath from her, rushed into the house. There in his crib was her infant, well fed and happy. A bottle was beside the baby, and next to the crib on a rocking chair, which had obviously been used to feed and comfort the infant, was a German soldier’s warm winter shawl. To the shawl was pinned a note: “To the mother of this beautiful child.”



(2) Mahlou. In a most fascinating way, I once came face to face with the so-called enemy. That meeting remains one of my favorite memories. It occurred in a restaurant in Minsk in 1993. I was helping Academicians from the Belarus Academy of Sciences bring knowledge of individual differences in approaches to learning to the new textbooks being prepared in the Belarus language for K-12 students in a variety of subjects following the dissolution of the Soviet Union and the nationalization of curricula. The Humanities University gave us a place to work, and the president and vice-president took me and several other guests to dinner soon after my arrival. I sat catty-corner from Anatoly, the vice-president. For some reason, Anatoly and I began comparing our biographies and were stunned to learn that during the Cold War, I was an officer in the US Army and he an officer in the Red Army; we had both had the same specialty and held the same rank. For a brief moment, we stared at each other, then Tolya (after such a discovery, it was only natural that I would begin to use the nickname for Anatoly) exclaimed, “You were my enemy!”



“And you were mine,” I responded.



We marveled about this discovery until long after dinner had ended. How could it be that two people who seemed to understand each other s poluslova (from half a word), as the Russians say, had been directly targeted against each other in an earlier time? Both veterans of the Cold War, we found we had even more in common than our scholarship. Thereafter, every day Tolya would bring me candies or cookies for our break, and we would sit and marvel again at how strangely fate had wrapped our lives together — and that we had found it out. We shared no military secrets; there were really none of any value by then, anyway. What we shared was a new understanding of the word, enemy.



When it came time for me to leave, the Belarusans, as is typical of their culture, threw a parting party for me. Tolya kept jumping up with a toast and running over to hug or kiss me. This is not exceptionally unusual behavior except that Tolya was known to be an extreme introvert and rarely took part in toasting.



"What did you do to Tolya?" one faculty member asked me.



"I did nothing," I replied. "He took an enemy to dinner."



With the recent cooling off of relations between the USA and Belarus, Tolya has become locked away from me for now, perhaps even forever. Who knows when winds of politics will shift again? But now I know what lies behind the old Iron Curtain that is being drawn again between me and a land and people I came to know affectionately a decade ago. And for one bright and shining moment, I stood side by side in friendship with my enemy.



And that is far as I can go with you this Monday morning. I must retire to prayer to repent for those times that I have thought of others, any others, as enemies, to thank God for giving me the unusual opportunity to meet my enemy in flesh and blood and find him to be a friend, and to give praise for the way in which He teaches His children. After that, I will spend time in contemplation, my favorite part of the day, letting God take over the direction in which my relationship with Him moves.



I will now leave you to your prayer and contemplation, but first, I would like to bring to your attention a Monday morning prayer post that you might enjoy:



Fr. Austin Fleming, priest of the Archdiocese of Boston and pastor in Concord, Massachusetts, posts a prayer each Monday morning that he calls "Monday Morning Offering." I enjoy his prayers very much. I hope you also will find them inspirational. He has graciously given me permission to include a link to his blog on my Monday Morning Meditation posts.



For additional inspiration throughout the week, I would point out two sets of blogs: (1) the list of devotional blogs that follow the enumeration of Monday Morning Meditations on the sidebar of this blog and (2) my blogroll, where I am following a number of inspirational priests and writers about spiritual matters. I learn so very much from all these people. I highly recommend them to you.

Sabbath Sunday #12: Ganging Up in Prayer

Fr. Christian Mathis (Blessed Is the Kingdom) has made the suggestion that we "rest" on the Sabbath by taking a break from our normal blogging and sharing an older post of which we are particularly fond. Rest? Gladly! I don't get to do that very often, but now, thanks to Fr. Christian, I get to do it at least once a week -- and it gives me more time to spend with God, which is a wonderful gift.

I chose Ganging Up in Prayer for this week's older post. I have copied it below to make it easier to locate it, but if you go to the post itself, you can read the comments made at the time.

Ganging Up in Prayer

So many friends, acquaintances, church members, and bloggers have been praying for Nikolina, Shane, and the whole Mahlou family that God must feel like people are ganging up on Him. Many thanks to everyone for those prayers! The Mahlou family is once again not only emerging from the muck but also being washed off and cleaned up. We are almost presentable now.

Thinking about this reminded me about how a colleague and I ganged up in prayer on a senior boss a few years ago, resulting in something very strange (well, not really so strange if one knows the power of prayer) happening at our senior staff meetings. It used to be that the division directors hated gathering together with our boss's boss because he would berate them publicly when production was behind, customer satisfaction was low, or product quality was questionable. Instead of working together to identify and fix the problem, he would verbally abuse the director of the responsible division. Two of the four division directors quit within six months of my arrival. (It had nothing to do with my arrival; they had simply been around longer and were tired of the abuse.) A third talked of quitting. That would leave only me still in place from among the four of us who were on board at the time that I arrived, and I had been there only a few months.

Oddly, I was never berated or otherwise abused. (Moreover, a few weeks ago, on a business trip, I ran into this big boss, and he was genuinely happy to see me.) But, maybe it was not odd at all. God tends to protect me. I don't know why. I guess it has to do with His spoiling me (which I do not take for granted but I do love it).

Maybe it also had to do with prayer. I prayed often for this particular person because he often gave me new reason to pray.

When my former employee was promoted to being my colleague, replacing the third director who did quit, I told him that every time the big boss started turning red, a sign that he was about to sling verbal muck at someone, I would say a silent prayer, asking God to calm him and bring him a sense of peace; always the red would turn back to flesh color and his words would be tempered. Knowing that, my new colleague began to do the same, and we both noticed that meetings became more peaceful and productive. Soon everyone was talking about how the big boss had changed, how much more calm and respectful he had become, and how much easier it now was to attend his meetings.

Maybe all that happened was that our prayers visibly calmed the two of us and that calm spread to others, including the big boss, who sensed a gentling reaction from us. Or maybe God reached straight down into this gruff man's pounding heart or irritated psyche. I do not pretend to understand how God answers prayer. I just know that God does.