7 Quick Takes Friday #61

See more 7 Quick Takes Friday contributions at Jennifer Fulwiler's Conversion Diary.

I have not posted for quite some time to the 7 Quick Takes Friday -- for a month, give or take a week or so, it would seem. So, this week I figured I would pull out the most salient of the experiences of the past weeks.

1. Burying Biseh. The little cat who purred like a trible (for those familiar with Star Trek, the original series) and whom we brought back from Jordan five years ago for our grandson Nathaniel was hit by a car recently. Biseh, which means "cat" in Arabic, had wandered around our campus in Amman as a feral cat for some time when I found students kicking her, so Donnie and I adopted her. Bringing her back was quite easy. Surprisingly, for a feral cat, she slept peacefully all the way home under my plane seat. Nathaniel quickly bonded with her and loved the way that she became overexcited when she was petted and began to make high-pitched rumbling sounds (just like the tribles on the Star Trek episode, "The Trouble with Tribbles"), so he was quite distraught, so our son Shane let Nathaniel decide what we should do with Biseh's body. Since Shane and family live in a rented house, Nathaniel decided he would like to bury her under our tree and come visit her often. So, that is what we did, and that is what he does.

2. Meeting little tigers at a birthday party. Noelle and her roommate (who moved in after Ray died) recently adopted two tiger-striped kittens (orange tabbies, one each). One is named Angel, and I forget the name of the other one. (No, it is not Devil!) Not long after Ray, Noelle's husband of ten years, died, her cat, Prince Shadow, died. It was definitely not a good year for her last year. So, it is good to see that she has found a diversion and a way to love again, even if it is one of the smaller of God's creatures.

3. Old Mission stuff. Once a year Old Mission has a fiesta to raise money for various projects and needs. The Mahlou family is always one of the cleaning crews. We were the first crew this year because I had quite a surprise for that day. A few days earlier I got a call from a mutual friend who told me that the woman, Lida, with whom I had often stayed when I was doing consults in Uzbekistan in the 1990s, was in town, her first visit ever to the USA. She and her granddaughter and local relatives came to the fiesta, so for once I only worked for one shift and then enjoyed a very special day with a very special friend. (For more details, see my earlier blog about this: Our Amazing Modern World.) The following Sunday (last Sunday) was confirmation for the 16 kids who were in my catechism class last year. As is traditional, the bishop came for the confirmation, and the kids in my current class, hosted the cake and strawberries that were served in the mission gardens after Mass.

4. A threatening visit. Our office had quite a threatening visit from headquarters last week. An inspection team came for the purpose of deciding which of our branches/programs would be closed because of lack of money. (Yes, the economy is hurting us, too.) We all prepared assiduously, rehearsed our presentations multiple times with the CEO coming around and murder-boarding all of us senior leaders. We showcased our products and our people and opened the door to all our activities. Following our wonderful CEO's non-defensive attitude, we welcomed the team hospitably, and even held a very nice formal reception upon their arrival at the CEO's home. Well, by the end of the week, they said our programs were all super and they would look elsewhere for budget cutting. Yes!

5. Picnic with an enemy. I invited one of the people in our Washington office to a BBQ at our new home while he was visiting here with his family. We have had to coordinate closely over the past 18 months. Prior to that, he had worked here locally (about three years ago), and he and I were not on good terms. Actually, I was on okay terms. However, he and his supervisor did not like me much because I always "seemed to get [my] own way" when we disagreed on how things should be done. Essentially, I was simply concerned that my trainees got the best possible training, and I did know more about that particular kind of training than the two of them did -- but they were unwilling to admit that, did not have particularly good ideas for the training, but felt the need to "win" at all costs. In leaving the BBQ, my colleague noted, emotionally, how wonderful it had been to work together the past 18 months! I love it when enemies become friends -- and breaking bread together never hurts!

6. On Monday, I went up against our CEO's new staff action coordinator. I need to replace my assistant who is leaving on Tuesday, and the new SAC was unwilling to replace him. I would need to jump over him and go to the CEO if he did not budge, but first I had to deal with him. He spent an hour demeaning me, arrogantly making comments about what I do or do not need (he has not been introduced to any of my programs; he cannot possibly know what I need and do not need), pointing out that I was a poor leader because I had not replaced my assistant (but he is the one standing in the way of my replacing him; I pointed out that he was being disingenous, calling me out for not replacing him when he would not let me replace him; he stopped the berating for a minute at that, mainly, I think, because he did not know the meaning of disingenous), and otherwise trying to demonstrate that he was the #1 person for making decisions about what goes on in our organization (i.e. trying to wear his boss's position -- not the first time I was to encounter that this week). I really wanted to deck him, but fortunately there was a table between us! The bottom line is that I won, and the paperwork for my assistant has been submitted to headquarters -- but I am still trying to determine at what cost. At a formal ceremony yesterday, the SAC deliberately snubbed me. Not that I care, but it will be a long two years (the length of his appointment here) if we cannot work this out. While I would like to take aim at him, I guess I am going to have to do what I tell my junior managers to do: learn to love him since he, too, is God's child. Yeah, really, somewhere inside is that God-seed. I wonder how long it will be before I can remember this without deliberately reminding myself. I guess this requires more loving impossible people!

7. Insubordinate subordinates. Usually, I have no problem with subordinates, but this week something went really, truly awry, and I spent most of the past two days trying to bring peace back to my small part of the world. First, my budget manager submitted the budget changes for the remainder of the year without consulting with me; in doing so, he made some major decisions about expenditures and priorities that differ from what my philosophy is and decisions would have been. I had to pull the budget back, which, of course, embarrassed him. I also had to counsel him about not putting himself into my position, i.e. not wearing my hat. He argued for the decisions he had made, but I ultimately had to tell him that my opinion is the one that had final sway. He pouted but made the changes. Later, he wrote me a note of apology and promised to "stay in [his] lane" in the future. I hope this is a watershed experience because he has, at times, intimidated some of my senior managers by implying that he is speaking for me when he is not. Second, likewise, one of the center directors who works for one of the senior managers who works for me often intimidates his employees by referring to a personal friendship between him and me, implying that if they are not happy with his leadership, that is just too bad because no matter what I will be supporting him because of our personal friendship. I have counseled him on this before, noting that one must earn respect on one's own authority and that his orientation is very different from the servant leadership approach that I advocate. (Managers who are not familiar with servant leadership concepts might like to read some of the literature on the topic. This link contains a list of a number of helpful books: servant leadership books on Amazon.) The most blatant recent (yesterday) thing he did was to move, without asking, into the office beside me even before my deputy had finished packing out. He talked my deputy into letting him move in because his office was being remodeled. However, there is an office in another part of the building where his employees are located, but he prefers to rub elbows with the senior managers, which he is not, and that creates more problems between him and his employees. I had to tell him to move out, to move into the office with his employees, and, on Tuesday, the person will be serving temporarily as my deputy will move into that office. Meanwhile, yesterday his employees posted a sign on their office door that said, "la bastille." Obviously, he has created a hostile working environment, so now next week I am going to have to gather them all together along with the center director's supervisor (who works directly for me) and see if I can restore a reasonable working atmosphere. Sheesh!

And to make matters worst, at the end of a week that started not all that well (with my accidentally bringing a small, fliptop can of cat food [instead of tuna] for lunch and ended not all that well (with employees fleeing "la bastille" by none of those in that center showing up for work today), I picked up some fruit at our local grocery store this evening, and the bill came to $6.66. Not that I am superstitious!

Wishing you all a great weekend, including the upcoming Fourth of July holiday for those living in the USA.

7 Quick Takes Friday #47

See more 7 Quick Takes Contributions at Jennifer Fulwiler's Conversion Diary.

It must have been a really full week, and yet it did not seem so. However, as I sit here, trying to remember what I did, I cannot remember a thing except eating turkey yesterday at Old Mission and cleaning BIG pots and pans afterward. Oh, well, I will start with that and perhaps the rest of the week will pop back into my memory. Senior moments already? Or, just an overfilled memory?? (Ooh, I hope the latter...)

1. So, okay, yesterday. Old Mission Church puts on a feast for the entire town with donated goods. It looks like we fed about 400 yesterday, which, counting kids, would be 25% of the town. It is a good place and time for everyone to get together. The mission is the center of the town's life, and Fr. E is pretty much considered the town's father. (I think he looks at it that way, too.) Doah and Noelle came; Shane and his family had their own event in a nearby town with Lemony's family. I was able to snatch a couple of pictures. On the left is Donnie, Noelle, and Doah with a family friend, Bennie, who was working the serving line. On the right is Sr. Delores, who lives at the local convent for Sisters of the Atonement (Franciscan order) along with Sr. Maria, whom I have mentioned before. Sr. Maria was not in town; she went to the central valley to be with her biological sisters. It was, however, nice to have Sr. Delores, Sr. Catherine, and Sr. Mary Catherine with us at the feast. I believe some of the friars came down from the monastery at the retreat center since they usually do, but I missed the first wave this year -- had to pick up Noelle and Doah -- and so may have missed them. Saw some folks from there at Mass earlier in the morning, though.

2. Ah, now I remember Wednesday. It was a day of rubbing elbows with all the folks who work with me, which is really great. Too often I am at meetings at headquarters or at meetings in other cities. Being in Seaside the entire day of Wednesday and in and out of my office gave a different color to the day. All morning, the junior managers presented their programs to all the senior managers and some visitors, telling us of their accomplishments during the last quarter and their concerns for the next. That was a good discussion. The day ended with an all-staff meeting to welcome new faces and say goodbye to old friends moving on to other jobs through promotion or new positions.

3. It's working! Now I remember Tuesday! Tuesday was hell day. I had no less than THREE meetings scheduled at the same time for every hour of the day. None of them were my meetings, i.e. none that I had scheduled for my staff and could therefore postpone or cancel. Some were at headquarters (a 20-minute drive) and some in my building. Some were mandatory financial and personnel meetings; others were entertaining high-level visitors. I passed to my deputy all the visitors. That took me down to two meetings simultaneously, and I found other senior managers to take over those. Whew! Talk about exhaustion! (My sister says that she really likes the idea of triple-scheduled meetings because it gets them out of the way faster!)

4. Monday was a meeting day, as well, but also one of crisis resolution. My boss was grumpy, which did not help because he was trying to solve problems in ways that I knew were not supported by regulation. So, I had to maneuver around that approach. Also, one of my best and most essential senior managers had his pay level (which is about 50% of what he could make elsewhere) attacked by the head of the personnel office who is trying to remove the retention bonus I gave him when he was offered a job elsewhere at double his currently embarrassingly low salary. It seems to be a personal vendetta, and I am still working on trying to fend that off. I was really happy when time came for our prayer group.

5. Our prayer group is as much a faith formation as a time for prayer. We include both, as well as singing. We have just finished reading and discussing Richard Rohr's Things Hidden, from the point of spiritual direction (the co-leader of the group is a trained spiritual director which is likely why we have moved in this direction). We liked doing that so much that we decided to try out another book for the next few months, Warren's The Purpose-Driven Life. Has anyone read this book? It turned out that everyone in the group had the book at home, but no one had read it yet. Good candidate for our meetings! On Monday, we had a new member show up who was really hurting because of very recent trauma in the family. We spent most of the time, then, in prayer with and for her. It was appropriate timing and probably not a coincidence.

6. Sunday -- yes, I am remembering now -- we had a meeting of the Secular Franciscan Order at the St. Francis Retreat Center nearby (well, nearby for me -- I could almost walk the distance, but most members come from much farther away). I brought some sugar-free baklava (yes, there is such a thing -- order it from shilla.com), which everyone liked, especially the thought that it was not causing bad things for diabetic systems. Sr. Delores (yes, the same person pictured with Doah above) is our relatively new spiritual advisor, and she led a beautiful prayer service at the beginning of our meeting before we got into the experience sharing, Franciscan rule discussion, and baklava eating.

7. And then there is Saturday, and I am still pulling a blank. It would have been great had I stayed home and vegged out, but that is not me. Staying home is a vacation; the only time I get to do it is when I take a stay-cation. There is no better place in the world to be than in San Ignatio Since where I really was remains a mystery, at least for now, I am giving you a couple of pictures of San Ignatio to enjoy.

Wishing you a pleasant week -- and one that you will remember!

Raising God's Rainbow Makers

In case any of you have interest in following my next book as it emerges, Raising God's Rainbow Makers, I have been and will be posting excerpts on Mahlou Musings and Clan of Mahlou, interspersed with other posts. I don't intend to post any more here on 100th Lamb since those other two blogs, content-wise, are more appropriate places for the excerpts. The book is essentially about parenting "special" children (handicapped and gifted) and reflects the earlier years of my children. I would love to have your feedback on this book as it develops.

Heralding Noelle

Angel (A): Lord, you could prevent this. Why do you allow it?

God (G): And what do you perceive as wrong here?

A: Well, you see, this baby will not be able to walk, not as a toddler and not as an adult. Epilepsy will interfere with her ability to drive as an adult. Hydrocephalus – all that extra fluid in the brain – is going to bring her the need to check periodically that her mechanical device for removing it is working, and when it doesn’t, there will be moments of panic and stress as her brain is compressed and she is in danger of dying. Not once, Lord, but I can see that there will be a dozen times that the mechanical device will have to be repaired. Human doctors cannot do with the human body what You can. Their mechanical devices are like fingers in a dam. Would it not be better if this baby were every bit as physically able as the people who surround her?

G: No. The gene pool is what it is. I will not intervene. Besides, she will be one of my rainbow makers, my special sprinklers.

A: Sprinklers, Lord?

G: Yes. Some people call these kinds of sprinklers broken. Sometimes they call them defective. They are, however, neither. They are simply differently configured, and because of that, they spurt water, they gush water, they spray water wider and farther. Noelle will splash water on all around her. She will water humanity.

A: I don’t understand.

G: Think about watering a field. You need to have rows of sprinklers. Each splashes water onto a given section of land. However, every once in a while, one of them is broken. More water rushes out, and more land is watered. That is a special sprinkler.

A: Ah, I see, but I still don’t understand how they water humanity.

G: Others are drawn to protect and help them, and then they feel good about showing mercy. My sprinklers bring out the best in others. That’s what I mean by watering humanity. Watch Noelle. You will see this.

A. Okay, but what does that have to do with rainbows?

G. Absolutely everything. Have you not seen how in the water splashing out from a long row of field sprinklers you can see rainbow after rainbow? That’s what this little sprinkler, one that others might consider broken, will do.

A: But what about her family, Lord? Her sister, Lizzie, and her parents?

G: Oh, I am happy that Noelle will be born into this family. It does not always happen that my special sprinklers are adequately tended, but these parents are fighters. They will protect my little sprinkler and make sure no additional harm comes to her beyond what she is born with. They will make sure that she can refract light through her water droplets to cause rainbows.

A: How, Lord? They don’t have the expertise.

G: They will find it. When they can’t find it, I will lead them to it.

A: But, Lord, there will be so much to find, and there will be so many crises. How will they handle all this?

G: I will be with them. In the good times and in the bad. In the triumphs and in the crises.

A: But they don’t believe in You!

G: Oh, I can handle that, too.

copyright 2010

7 Quick Takes Friday #31

What a week! I am not certain that I can even recall every day so I shall simply point out the high points (or, in some cases, the low points). I decided to illustrate each point with flowers, mainly because I am feeling the need for something pretty to cheer me up as I look back over the last week! (Check out Jennifer Fulwiler's blog on the same meme; she hosts the meme on her Conversion Diary blog, and this week her post is far cheerier than mine, I fear.)

1. The week started out not at all well (little did I know that it would be downhill from there) with the announced retirement of our Director of Operations. Now, retirements are good events, things to celebrate. However, in this case, the director, who has been retired in place for a while, decided to make a point about his boss being too demanding. (Let's see: the boss demanded that the director come to work to work every day, that he show up sober, that he put in a full day of work, and that he actually accomplish work, such as meeting deadlines on supplying equipment and desks for new employees. I suppose that was pretty off-putting.) Actually, the boss can be abrasive, for which I have informally counseled him on several occasions, the problem being that he does not know when he is. The director wanted to talk to me, stated that the retirement decision was not an act of defiance but a matter of his health (he does indeed have health problems), and that he would stay to help out with making sure our ops needs for the year were met if I would ask him to do so. Well, hm, now what to say? I told him we could not put his health at risk for any selfish need. He accepted that, but I am sure that he was frustrated because this was clearly an attempt to walk back his decision to retire. However, since he has essentially done no work for six months and two bosses in a row have not been able to keep him at work for more than 2-3 hours a day, letting him follow through on his retirement, the coward's way out perhaps, seemed the gentlest thing to do. I did ask him not to leave bitter, no matter how angry he was with his boss, because the emotions associated with his last days at work may color how he remembers his entire tenure with us for years to come. He left my office not entirely satisfied.

2. Sunday was our annual fiesta at the mission. Donnie, Doah, and I had signed up to be the clean up crew for the first shift, 11-1. It was fun, a nice release from a difficult week with no idea that the one to come would be even more difficult. The fiesta started with our local Indians dancing and pulling the community into their dances. Clean up chores provided relaxation by comparison. After our turn at clean-up, Donnie, Doah, and I had some BBQ chicken and prepared to enjoy the fiesta activities when I noticed that only one person had showed up for the next shift, 1-3. I looked at the volunteer book, and, gulp, there was no one signed up for 3-4 or 6-7 and only one person from 4-5. The crowd, at any given point, numbered about 300, with many people coming in from out of town. After some discussion, Donnie decided to take Doah back to his group home by himself after the two of them had spent some fun time with the games. I tracked down the fiesta chair and asked her about the empty clean-up list. She said she had been unable to get others to volunteer so she was going to handle it herself at the end of the day. That being clearly a formula for disaster, I offered to fill in for all the other shifts. I enjoyed some of the activities in the midst of cleaning and got some time to talk to a priest who had just arrived from Nigeria to fill in while our parish priest is on a pilgrimage to Europe. I dragged myself home around 8:30, putting one foot slowly in front of the other until I reached the house and collapsed on the couch, where I spent the night sleeping. Morning came far too fast, and after all the bending over to pick up trash (golly, grown people can make worse messes than kids) the day before, I could barely move but by the end of the day, I had run around so much taking care of crises that I had forgotten all about my stiff legs. Oh, right, they actually were not stiff anymore!

3. In the middle of all the cleaning on Sunday, my brother Rollie called from Ohio. It being Father's Day, Noelle had called her uncle to wish him a happy day. Then,they got talking. "Did you know," Rollie asked me, "that the doctors are planning to go ahead with amputation of Noelle's legs soon?" Ah, no. She had called Donnie that morning but somehow the conversation had not gotten around to that. It is a discussion that we have had. For years, Noelle's legs have been nothing more than impediments to her ability to move around. Her view is that she will be more mobile without them. Moreover, she is tired of having to daily clean infections; this has been going on for more than two years, with long periods of time spent on a pump. She is tired of it. As she says, "My legs are not value-added. Why would I fight to keep them when they threaten my life?" It is a reasonable question. (I will provide updates on the Twitterlets and Clan of Mahlou.)

4. Miracle! Miracle! After eight months of searching, interviews, and lost opportunities, I have a new admin assistant! Oh, blessed help! Janie showed up Monday afternoon after in-processing with Personnel. It is so wonderful to have someone keeping my calendar, doing my filing, managing people in the outside office, answering the nuisance calls, photocopying. All the things that were causing me to work until late hours in the evening so that I could do my real job during the day. Yes! I feel truly spoiled now! This was definitely the brightest spot of this week.

5. One day later, bam! There went my happiness bubble. My boss called an emergency meeting and announced that my division would be fractured into pieces, with the best projects going to a couple of my peers, leaving me essentially with the most troublesome, but visible and glitzy projects, with a higher level supervisor to step in for the glitzy part, leaving the troublesome part for me to handle. Well, there is more to the story, but since I blogged about it yesterday, I will just refer you to that post: The Price of Success.

6. The icing on this week's cake was Thursday's visitor: one of the senior members of the Board of Directors in from Washington. Brand new to the Board, he had already made his mark by firing one of the most senior people among others on the board over which he has oversight -- well, not firing precisely but rather forcing her to resign. So, at least, that is what we heard. My boss and the CEO senior here fretted about how best to receive him, nervous about an axe falling on them. As it turned out, he turned out to be quite charming. When it was my turn to present our programs, I combined the dozens of them into like groups and quickly ran through all of them. When I finished, I asked if he had questions. His response was, "No; I am speechless." Gee, now I have confirmation that I am overworked! ;) Everyone was quite taken with him, and he was quite taken with all of us. Yes! Perhaps it was that prayer I said before the formal meeting? The one where I asked for help for all of us? It would not be the first time that God came to a staff meeting with me!

7. The week ended with an hour of brainstorming with my boss on a new project we have to provide support to some programs in Afghanistan. My staff is having some difficulty getting its hands around the various things we need to do to make the programs successful. Several have visited there to gather information and provide on-site help. I will be heading in that direction soon. It was wonderfully peaceful and re-invigorating to put aside all the concern, worry, and potential frustration (I'm still putting aside frustration after having given it up for Lent this year) and spend some time on positive activity. We came up with a plan to handle one sticky problem, and I left for home a bit re-heartened.

So, some ups, some downs, and life goes on. Wishing you all a weekend filled with flowers, cheer, and relaxation!

God's Inscrutable Timing

As promised in the Quick Takes two weeks ago, here are the details on the "medical event" that took place with Fr. D. It happened partially during and then after the daily Mass in San Ignatio.

I had taken the day off from work, but that does not mean that the day was quiet. In the middle of running around, I acquired a modicum of quiet, at least initially, by taking time out to attend noon Mass.

Fr. Ed was out of town, so Fr. D, who is assigned to a parish in a town about 15 miles away, came to celebrate Mass. When Fr. D came into Mass, he seemed to be having some difficulties moving and breathing, but since he has some kind of impairment (from childhood polio, I think), we did not pay much attention to it until he could not hold the wine still. Sr. Maria was present and went forward to help him. He apologized for not feeling well, and let Sr. Maria and one of the parishioners finish the Eucharist.

He then finished Mass and disappeared into the sacristy. Two people followed him in. One was an out-of-towner who had attended Mass with a group of school children visiting the mission. It turned out that he was an EMT. He was concerned, but not local, and when Fr. D insisted he was okay, the EMT emerged from the sacristy, saying that Fr. D did not want help. He left.

Theresa was right behind him, and I was right behind her. Two mothers. They are more difficult to push away than an EMT. Theresa offered to take Fr. D to Hollister to the hospital. He declined her offer, saying that he felt okay, that it was just a pinched nerve or something that was causing the left side of his body to be temporarily paralyzed. (That is "feeling okay"???!!!)

Theresa was about to leave when I spoke up, saying that I would take his car back to his parish if he let her take him to the hospital. He said that he did not want to be a bother. Well, mothers don't listen to those kinds of answers. They have heard them lots of times before with their little boys (and big boys). "That's why you have a parish," I objected.

He hesitated at my words, and I knew I had him. I held out my hand. "Please, let me have your keys," I insisted as only a mother can. He dutifully handed them over to me, explained what his car looked like and how to work it. I left to go home to get Donnie, so that he could drive Fr. D's car and I could follow in our car so that I had a way to get home. When we got back to the mission, the ambulance had arrived for Fr. D. Apparently, he had had another episode. As it turned out, he needed surgery.

I shudder to think what would have happened if he had driven back on his own. The chances of him making it back safely were pretty close to nil. Thank God I was off work and was there to help. (Oh, that was probably God's plan all along!)

I was off because Noelle was having surgery. The surgery had been planned for Thursday, the day that all of this happened. However, the surgery had been done successfully on Wednesday (details can be found at Clan of Mahlou), so I had time to attend Mass and then visit Noelle -- and Donnie and I did, after helping out with Fr. D's needs (something we would not have been able to do had the surgery taken place on the day planned).

That kind of remarkable timing is something I have seen on many occasions. Sometimes it is on a far grander scale for God's time is not our time. His timing, however, is impeccable. This is something I have tried to explain to the teens in my catechism class who figure that a prayer not answered five minutes after it has been made is an unanswered prayer. I like to use the real life example of Shura to help them understand the scope upon which God works. (Of course, they are only teens with an even more limited understanding of time than adults, so it is difficult for them to grasp the concept of limitless and unboundaried time, but some do).

Fifteen years ago I became aware of the needs of Shura, a dying child artist in Siberia. He had spina bifida, which could not be cared for in there. So, through the intercession of many people, I brought him to live with me in the USA and found a billionaire to pay for his medical care. (Easier said than done, as you can probably imagine -- lots of miracles along the way made it possible.)

I was able to open my home to Shura because I understood spina bifida and spoke Russian. That is because fifteen years before Shura came to live us, my daughter Noelle was born with spina bifida, and ten years before that I had been somehow "drawn" to begin studying Russian, becoming quite fluent by the time Shura came into our lives.

One of the people to help Shura was the then-overseer of the INS, who just happened to show up at a pre-surgery moleibin (special Russian Orthodox prayer service) and was subsequently able to help us in some times of definite need. He was there because many years earlier (30 or so), his son's blindness was miraculously cured on the spot by a weeping icon and the whole family converted to Orthodoxy.

Now, exactly 15 years after Zhenya came into our lives, the director of Orphan Cry, an American organization helping orphans in Russia, learned about Shura's story from stumbling across it when he did a search for my name on the Internet. Now, that does not typically happen. I tried the same search and finally found the article on the 40th page of results! The director had found it right off. Odd? As it turned out, Katya, a 19-year-old orphan, was losing her eyesight to brain tumors and wanted to die with her brothers who had been adopted by a family in New Hampshire. I was able to provide some help with getting a visa -- again, miraculous timing with all key players being in Moscow on the same day in August without any one of us conferring with the others in advance -- and the director was able to find medical care for free; the doctors involved, after looking at Katya's CT scans, confidently told the director that they were pretty sure that they could operate successfully on the tumors and Katya would be coming here to live, not to die. This plan is now being put into place one step at a time.

Analyzing all those amazingly interlocked actions and people numbs the mind. If any one of them had been out of place, either or both of these two Russian teens might well have died.

And then there was today. Everyone in the right place at the right time with the right skills to take care of people God whom is watching after. What human being could ever organize such microcosmic elements on such a macrocosmic scale?

7 Quick Takes Friday #27

In reviewing this week, looking for some quick takes to share with you and with Jennifer Futwiler, who hosts this meme over at Conversion Diary, I realized that for the first time in a long, long time, I had a fairly normal week. Oops, come to think of it, I didn't. I just think I did. But, heck, wait a minute, you judge!

1. On Friday, I cut work and spent the morning at First Friday (Day of Recollection) at St. Francis Retreat Center in the morning, where the co-director presented us with a history of the Virgin Mary that contained much that was new to me. I love it when I learn new things! In fact, much of the history was new to many people there. We were all enthralled. Mass was simple and special, as always. Then I had to leave. I wish I could have stayed for lunch and the afternoon session, but at least I had a morning reprieve. I am grateful to have had those special hours because even though I returned to work, the spirit of the morning stayed with me the rest of the day.

2. Donnie and I joined Shane, Lemony, and Nikolina for Nathaniel's baseball game on Saturday. Our little budding scientist is definitely not a budding sportsman, but he likes the game and has fun at it. I posted some pictures from the game over on The Clan of Mahlou: Life Goes On - In Pictures. It was a modern, city game, with real bases. I remember my childhood games. Let's see: the clothesline was first base; second base was the swing set; third base was the apple tree; and home was a flat piece of wood we threw down on the grass at the appropriate spot. My, how times have changed! Or, maybe it is just the location that has changed. Following the ball game, Shane left for work. The rest of us went to Jerry's, a local diner-style restaurant for a relaxing lunch and time to talk. Lemony told us that Nikolina is finally starting to crawl. Her legs are very weak, but the doctor has said that it is possible that she may walk; Lemony is betting on that. (See The Clan of Mahlou: The Awesome Power of a Mother's Love for details.) Nathaniel forgot all about his baseball game when I told him I had bought him a glow-in-the-dark jigsaw puzzle of a tiger. In fact, he badgered Shane about it for two days until Shane brought him to our house to pick it up. Now, the question is, will he be able to sit still long enough to finish it?

3. Sunday. Mother's Day. I woke to the thought of being pampered and spending a day bathed in a calm spirit and pleasant thoughts. Well, that last just about 20 minutes. Before I had struggled all the way out of bed, Noelle called in tears. Her best friend from college, also a young woman with spina bifida, had not woken up Sunday morning. At 4:00 a.m., her husband had found her dead. He called Noelle because he knew she would want to know. (More details are posted on The Clan of Mahlou: Boueversee.) So, on Sunday, I skipped my plans for being pampered; I broke my promise to attend the renewal vows of friends who were celebrating their 50th year of marriage; I drove to Salts with to do what mothers do: console her disconsolate child. Indeed, Sunday was Mother's Day.

4. On Monday, our prayer group met as we usually do on the second Monday of every month: at my house to watch an inspirational movie. Various people bring munchies. We share some updates on our life and our history of the movie. Then we watch the movie and end the evening with prayer. Agnostic Donnie typically joins us for the munchies and the movie. During our prayer her retires to our office. This week we watched Padre Pro, a Cristero martyr. We preceded the movie with reading about the events of 1917-1930 in Mexico, the revolution, the communist influence (including Trotsky's exile to Mexico from Russia) and the Christian martyrs, many of them priests, who fought back. Two of Padre Pro's brothers were jailed with him: Humberto and Roberto. Humberto was shot, as was Pro. Roberto, however, survived to tell the story. I highly recommend then movie to anyone with an interest in maryrs or Mexican history. (Note: the film is in Spanish, but it does have subtitles; we tend to be a bilingual group.) After the movie, something unusual happened. Donnie stayed for our prayer. An awesome statement in its simplicity. (See Modern Mysticism: Promises for a description of the significance.)

5. I came home right after work on Tuesday, as opposed to mid-evening as usual. Within minutes, one of our neighbors knocked on our door. He was gathering information for the census. Given the size of our town and how well he knows everyone, our neighbor could probably have answered most of the questions without dropping by. Nonetheless, this way the details are accurate. Following the few questions on the census form, we talked a bit. I suppose that is what happened at all the houses: a little data gathering and a little chatting. That is what happens in small towns. One of the oddities about the very small size of our town is that no one got the census forms in the mail. There is no home delivery of mail here, so when the forms were mailed to our homes, the post office sent them back because it would have taken far too many hours to sort them out (more than the two people who work there could manage). As a result, our entire town had to be canvassed in person. Just one more unique thing about San Ignatio...

6. Wednesday, day of joyful surprise! Padre Julio came to town. He had wanted to be assigned to one of our local parishes after his year back home in Colombia, but local politics prevented that. (Read local politics as disagreements with the bishop who apparently was opposed to Padre's work with Por Amor a Los Ninos de Colombia, the organization that Padre founded to help children of Colombia who were in danger of being pulled into the insurgency and criminal activity). Therefore, after returning from his home country of Colombia, he settled in Chula Vista, just 30 minutes from where his brother is living in San Diego. (In every cloud there is a silver lining.) Although we received word of Padre's arrival at the last minute, all of us who had been part of his work while here showed up for a party and prayer. Padre told us that the school supported by Por Amor is now operational and the self-sustaining farm is coming into being. Dreams realized! Before sharing all this news, Padre introduced me to the group. While I knew those of them associated with Por Amor, there were other folks who had come from distant towns who had been in one or another of Padre's parishes. Padre expressed so much gratitude for my family's design of Por Amor's website and for my teaching him English that I did not know how to respond. Fortunately, after a bit he moved on to other topics, information sharing, and prayer. There were a number of children there, and I loved watching Padre move among them, blessing each of them and even taking one of the teenagers aside for confession. For me, Padre is the quintessential priest. He is that for many, I am certain. That is why some traveled nearly 100 hours to be present and why no one complained about cramming dozens of people into a small house. What a wonderfully special ending to what started out as a very ordinary day.

7. Thursday brought such a wonderful bill. That's right: a bill! In fact, a bill from the IRS. Now, I suppose that ordinarily not many people would be looking forward to getting a bill from the IRS, but then my life is not particularly ordinary. In this case, the bill was for the last payment on a 5-year payment plan for miscalculated taxes from the nineties. Four years ago, I had no idea that the IRS could go back that many years and re-calculate taxes, then charge late fees and fines covering the in-between years. It was a nightmare, and we had to turn to a tax accountant for help. However, it all worked out in the long run, and, except for the unpleasantness of finding old calculations re-figured and having to pay whopping fines because of the number of years that passed, the IRS has been generally kind throughout the process (well, at least the people of the IRS have been kind; I am not sure that I would consider the regulations of the IRS have been kind -- moreover, the timing was such that we did not qualify for any of the special reduction or forgiveness plans that the IRS has offered others). Thursday's bill was for the last few dollars on the payment plan, which, thanks to some bonuses at work and some healthy tax refunds, we have been able to pay off a year in advance. So, happy ending to the day; happy ending to the week; happy ending to the near-half decade! Meanwhile, lesson learned: I no longer attempt to do my own taxes, given my proclivity for miscalculation. I turn everything over to the tax accountant (and get better refunds, too). As for that final bill, I cannot yet imagine what it will be like not having the hefty monthly payment over our head!

With that happy ending energizing me, I am going to head over to Jen's blog and take a look at others' quick takes. And yours? What has happened in your life this week?

Thankful Thursday #8

Just a brief few thoughts today about some of the many things for which I am grateful.

1. Noelle was facing possible amputation of her right leg because of a bone infection. Fortunately, a new doctor showed up on the scene a few weeks ago and pronounced that he might be able to surgically eliminate the infection (and bone?) without amputating the leg. So, Noelle was admitted with the view to saving the leg, if possible, and we were quite hopeful that we might end up with some optimistic news. As things turned out, we ended up with better than good news; we ended up quite surprised and grateful. The infection had abated sufficiently that all the doctor had to do was to insert some tubing so that the remaining infection can be pumped out over the next weeks or months. Noelle will be released tomorrow.

2. I planned to go to the hospital in a nearby city for a routine blood test (cholesterol) this morning before attending daily Mass, then dropping in to see Noelle, whose surgery was done, without our being told, a day earlier than planned, i.e. yesterday. (Given the results, we have no complaints about missing the surgery. The important thing is that the patient and doctor were both there and did not miss the surgery. I, however, missed my blood test. I forgot my paperwork, and no one was in my doctor's office to fax the order. This was after fasting for 12 hours! However, as I discussed the problem with the doctor's assistant, trying to avoid the need to drive all the way back to San Ignatio, she piped up with the information that the little part-time clinic here in San Ignatio draws blood from 8-10 on Friday mornings. I confirmed. Yes! I can go in just a little late to work and get the blood drawn here. That will save me lots of time in the future. I love it when mistakes turn out to be so helpful. That is often the story of my life, and for that I am indeed grateful.

3. Today, Lizzie (oldest daughter, then age 11), now a professor of cognitive neuroscience and psychology, put a note for her students and others on her Facebook page about the value of failure for learning lessons and becoming better. Yes! Many years ago, when she was 11 years old, she was a straight-A student, knowing nothing about failure. She excelled at whatever she touched, especially academically. Then, she and I went to Moscow for almost a year, where she studied in Russian schools. When she returned to her advanced 8th grade classroom (where students were all working in 9th grade subjects), she had six weeks of school left. Once again, she excelled at English, French, and all her social studies and science classes, as if she had never left. Two subjects, though, produced major hiccups: math and band. She had studied algebra in Moscow and was quite good at it. However, Russian students learn how to do the calculations before studying the theory, and American students study the theory first. So, she failed her theory tests, surprising the teacher when she got 100% on the only exam, the last of the year, when he introduced the topic of calculations. She had to go to summer school. As for band,she had been only introduced to the parts of the flute when we left for Moscow in October. In April, when we returned, everyone was already playing band pieces. She failed band and was told that participation in high school band was "out." The band director also advised her that holding out any dream of learning to play music was naive since she clearly had no talent for it. Off Lizzie went to summer school, studying algebra every morning, and acing all her exams. Her A from summer school replaced her F from the school year, and she was placed in the college track geometry course for her freshman year, finishing that course, too, with an A. In the afternoons, she practiced her flute. She really wanted to learn to play it, so I advertised for a tutor. A member of the Marine Corps band replied. (We were fortunate that we were living in the Washington DC area at the time.) That man was truly gifted and truly patient, with an unusual teaching style in which he had Lizzie observe him (smart man -- observation first is her learning style), then try to follow suit. By the end of the summer, not only could she play the flute, but she could play it very well. She approached the high school band director and asked to audition. He agreed, then took her into the band. During her high school years, she played flute in the school band, school orchestra, marching band, and drama club pit orchestra. When the band lost both its saxophone players at the end of her junior year, she and her best friend taught themselves to play the sax and switched instruments. At her graduation ceremony, Lizzie was presented the band's Most Valuable Player award for that year. I am grateful that Lizzie learned the value of failure. I am also grateful -- and delighted -- to see her passing the lesson that she learned as a child along to her college students of today.

For what are you grateful?

More information about the Thankful Thursday meme can be found at the website of Grace Alone.

Beyond Why Not Me

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.

For this week's post, I chose When God Says No, God Means No, a story of a clash of wills: mine and God's. God won. The story seems appropriate for a Sunday. (The priest in that story, by the way, went into cancer remission for three years, but now he needs prayers again because the cancer has returned.)

7 Quick Takes Friday #22

Amazingly, two weeks have passed since I last posted Quick Takes. Where did they go? This week's 7 Quick Takes, a meme hosted by Jennifer Futwiler at Conversion Diary, will therefore include events from the past week as well as from last week.

(1) The week (not this past week, but last week, the one I did not blog about because I was taking a week off from blogging for Easter) began on Monday with a near-deja vu experience. As I drove into the parking lot in my office a parade of five wild turkeys marched across the intersection where I was stopped at a stop sign. As I patiently waited for them to finish crossing -- all of them proud males -- from the skies parachuted a flock of hens, like fans following movie stars. The females landed and landed, and then scampered and scampered, chasing after the handsomely attired males, who seductively spread their tails so expansively that all but their legs were hidden. The experience reminded me of the rooster in San Ignatio the previous week who had held me up for several minutes. In both cases, I was late to a meeting. I can certainly come up with unique excuses. More important, these kinds of things slow down my life, and that is a good thing.

(2) The highlight of the past two weeks was attending Good Friday Mass at Old Mission, where I belong. I was supposed to go to San Antonio on Maundy Thursday. On Friday, I was to attend Mass at San Fernando Cathedral. I was supposed to, and I was resigned to doing it. Somehow, though, my travel schedule had devolved into working on Good Friday. I was not happy about it, but, as I told the senior manager traveling with me, as long as I could get away for Good Friday Mass, I was willing to limit the amount of my complaints, or at least the volume of them.

That was before he was told by our local director that the only time she could gather staff to meet with me was during one or another Mass time. This was definitely not going to work, and I did not limit either the amount or volume of my complaints. “Look,” I told the senior manager, “you are going to be combining business and pleasure there, anyway, since your family lives there, so why don’t you do the briefing for me. That provides legitimacy to your trip, and it allows me to return Thursday night from Ohio and be home on Good Friday, where I can attend Mass at Old Mission.”

He agreed. He agreed! I knew the briefing would be difficult for him, and I, as his supervisor, may still have to go back to field questions that arose and to prove that I do care about the people at our satellite offices, but I got to spend Good Friday at Old Mission.

I felt so gifted! I wanted to lift up my eyes unto the green hills that surround San Ignatio. I want to hear the local roosters voluntarily participating in the passion play as they do every year, right on cue with their crowing. I wanted to kneel on the uneven floor of the 200-year-old mission with its paw-printed tiles that took so long to bake in the sun that foxes, bears, rabbits, and all manner of God’s animals scampered across them and were memorialized in the floor, as were a couple of people buried under the floor whose stories are no longer known but whose names and years are printed on special tiles inset into the floor. That’s where I wanted to be. Large, beautiful cathedrals with huge crowds do not attract me. Our simple church with our parish cat, Sula, sitting on a pew between parishioners (whichever ones she deigns to grace with her presence that day), the feeling of being in a place that has been soaked in prayer, and sharing the sorrow and exultancy of the Triduum with friends are what attracts me. And I was able, after all, to be there.

And there is always Phinean, Fr. Ed's adopted, previously feral, black cat. On Good Friday, as if on cue, Phinean appeared from nowhere, trotted down the aisle before anyone had a chance to stand up and move forward for the veneration of the cross, approached the cross and, really truly he did this, crouched beside it, as if he he were venerating it, then turned and faced the congregation. (People talked about that all weekend; obviously, we do not live in a high-crime or politically exciting area!) Fr. Ed did not say anything. He has come to expect such behavior from Phinean, who also spends entire days sleeping in the Christmas creche every December. He told us long ago that Phinean has a right to attend Mass because he is a Catholic cat! (Not to be outdone, Sula attended Easter vigil, sitting quietly and humbly in one of the back pews beside some chosen parishioners.)

(3) Last week, before Easter, I spent the week on a business trip at Ohio State University in Columbus. I was accompanied by two peers, my counterparts who direct other divisions in our organization. One of them, a woman about my age whom I will call Patricia (not her real name), was on the same flights with me, so we had the rare opportunity to pass the time in chatting, rather than involved in work tasks. She and I have known each other for 20 years but have never talked about anything of a spiritual nature. I guess the topic came up because of my refusal to travel to San Antonio, it being Good Friday. It turns out that she is also Catholic, but more than that, she is a Third Order Carmelite and Formation Director for the local Carmelites. Now, to understand how amazing this is, one needs to know that I have been in formation with the Secular Franciscan Order for three years but have not professed. My personal spiritual experiences have been more Theresian than Franciscan. Moreover, I had just come out of an intensive period of discernment and what I believe to be divine tasking with the Franciscans, a story that is too long to share here but about which I am preparing a post for my Modern Mysticism blog. Just two weeks earlier, I had achieved peace with the situation, deciding to leave the Franciscans -- thank God, I had not professed because any profession would have been my choice alone under the pressure of friends; I have not felt God leading me to profess -- and explore an association with the Carmelites. That is where I really think God is leading me in spite of my comfort with the modest Franciscan lifestyle. However, at first I had some doubts because I could not find any local Carmelites. I tracked down the coordinates of a group 20-30 minutes north. The phone numbers did not work out. So, it was quite extraordinary for me just to happen into this conversation with Patricia, whose group is located 30 minutes south of where I live and in the same place where I work. I should have learned by now that very little truly just "happens." I will be attending my first Carmelite meeting in two weeks!

(4) Columbus was a great place for me to be because my brother Rollie and his family (three sons, two of them married with children) live there and in the outlying rural area around Columbus. My sister Victoria lives in nearby Michigan, so she brought her younger son and came to Columbus (the rural part) for a family cookout, hosted by one of my nephews. I met both nephews' wives for the first time and their children (two little boys and a girl). Both wives are named Jane! And they are both delightful people. My nephews chose well. My niece once removed, 5-year-old August, was delighted to meet a new, big-kid, relative, and we chased together around the house and yard, playing. I found interesting differences in political opinion with my brother and sister who represent middle America much better than I do, but we are the 8-pack. Those differences are unimportant. We laughed a lot, reminisced, and enjoyed each other's presence for the first time in, ulp!, seven years!

(5) On Easter Sunday, it was time with the immediate family. Shane and Lemony had already made plans to celebrate with Lemony's family, so Donnie and I gathered up Noelle and Doah, and off we went to Hometown Buffet in Salts for Easter brunch, which was bound to be a better deal than trying to eat something I might attempt to cook. Although we had not been there in two years, mainly because Doah, the most inveterate Hometown Buffet fan, moved to San Jose two years ago. Nonetheless, Doah and Donnie are unforgettable (compared to easily forgettable me who blends in with any group anywhere), and the manager very seriously told Doah that macaroni and cheese, Doah's downfall, had been removed from the menu. When he saw Doah's crestfallen face, he exclaimed, "April Fool's!" Doah carries April Fool jokes well into the ensuing next months, and the manager had remembered that. Needless to say, it was a pleasant experience, even for Noelle, who has been on a bit of an emotional rollercoaster since Ray died. Of course, we killed our diets, but I am sure we will recover. Interestingly, we all take different approaches. Doah walks; I count calories; Lizzie (living and working now in South Carolina) spends hours at the gym with a trainer; Donnie does a lot of techno voodoo in determining foods and amounts; and Noelle just shakes her head in wonderment. However, all of us have lost weight, so we shall continue on our separate paths toward the same goal.

(6) Back at work on Monday (for one day before leaving for Hawaii), I confirmed that I had not been fired for refusing to go to San Antonio on Good Friday. I also found out that the world goes on without me. The presentation in San Antonio was fine without me. While I was out, we had to find three people to send to Afghanistan immediately to help with some work there. My assistants identified one already working for us who was willing to go and found two among applicants to work for us who would also be willing to go there. Actually, we all have to be willing to go there. One of my senior managers went there last month, and once we get an office in place there, I will also need to go there. I am not the one who sets up these things; my senior managers do that. However, I do have to provide quality control, so ultimately I get to travel (willingly or unwillingly) to all our remote locations. Actually, Afghanistan sounds interesting, and I have already started to learn a few Pashto words. (At least, I can read the alphabet; it is the Arabic alphabet plus three letters.)

(7) Now I write from Hawaii, where the rain has been playing havoc with the Internet. As the plane lifted off from San Francisco on Tuesday, we left behind the scalloped coastline of California, passed over a seemingly endless expanse of blue -- not sky but ocean, and then finally descended into thick mounds of white cotton candy, which turned into a white stew with whispy vapors and ultimately gave way to sparkling ground covered in and surrounded by water. Yes, we had landed on the currently wet island of Oahu. Given the rain that has had me stepping in a lot of puddles, a fickle Internet, and the fact that I left my briefing material back in California, I have had every right to be very frustrated, but something happened when I gave up frustration for Lent. I learned the triggers that cause me to become frustrated and for the most part I can now avoid them or refuse to let them be triggers. So, I did not become frustrated, but washed my shoes in puddles, took a long walk for health reasons while trying to find my way to my room and getting hopelessly lost, recalled how one briefed without powerpoint in the old days, and otherwise felt grateful for the opportunity to be more creative and more health-oriented. Yeah!

Easter Memories

I have not done a picture story on this blog before, but since Donnie just downloaded my not-so-artistic photos that I took Easter afternoon, I thought I would share some of the pictures of our wonderful little town with you. So, here goes:

(1) Photos around our mission church --

the garden path behind the church:

























the church archway, including (a) one of the inhabitants, a mourning dove; (b) looking north, with Doah; (c) looking south:

























views of the historic part of town from the church archway:

























the church cemetery:

















scenes from the front of the church:

























(2) Sula, our parish cat --

in the church garden:









entering the old monastery:









inside the old monastery:









asleep on a parishioner's coat during the Eucharist (every parishioner with a coat is considered a friend by Sula):








(3) Our town's aristocracy:


















































(4) Donnie, Doah, Noelle, and I spent the afternoon at play, pigging out at Easter brunch at Hometown Buffet in nearby Salts:




























(5) Meanwhile, our lazy little Mahlous (Intrepid, Murjan, and Simone) spent the afternoon at rest:

















Hoping you had as delightful an Easter as we did!