And In the Wind

There is change in the air as a storm approaches.  The wind picks up, clouds gather, there may be a distant clap of thunder.  As lightning flashes around us, we race for shelter.

Monastery grounds and walls are as subject to storms as those of any other building.  They get slapped with rain, pelted with sleet.  Inhabitants of the cloister might find themselves standing at a window looking out, maybe with a touch of concern.  What are those chunks of hail doing to the roof?  Are the windows secure against the wind?  

The monastery of my life is vulnerable, too.  I face storms, at times, of great magnitude.  Sickness, sudden disaster, an unnerving news report.  It helps me then to remember that I’m in the strongest cloister possible – the cloister of God’s loving embrace.  Everything that touches me must first come through His hands, through His “permissive will.”  I can do as St. Francis de Sales advised, and say amid my contradictions: “this is the very road to heaven.  I see the door, and I am certain the storms cannot prevent us from getting there.”

"The Name of the Lord is a strong tower; the just man runs to it and is safe.”  (Proverbs 18:10)

“Happy is the soul established in God ... The winds of the storm are powerless to shake her.” (St. Jane de Chantal)

"When you hear about wars and threats of war, do not yield to panic.  Such things are bound to happen, but this is not the end.  Nation will rise against nation, one kingdom against another.  There will be earthquakes in various places and there will be famine.  This is but the onset of labor.  Be constantly on your guard.... because of My Name, you will be hated by everyone.  Nonetheless, the man who holds out till the end is the one who will come through safe."  (Mark 13:5-13)

"O Jesus, I am locking myself in Your most merciful heart as in a fortress, impregnable against the missiles of my enemies.” (St. Faustina Kowalska, Diary, #1535)

The cloistered heart is a place of refuge, no matter where I happen to be. A portable fortress, a place inviolate, where I can remain with Jesus in the midst of storms, traffic jams, persecutions, illnesses, fires, floods. It is an appealing idea. It is also (this being most important) theologically sound. "The heart is the dwelling place where I am, where I live... the heart is the place 'to which I withdraw.'  The heart is our hidden center,  beyond the grasp of our reason and of others; only the Spirit of God can fathom the human heart and know it fully. (Catechism of the Catholic Church #2563)

The cloistered heart is the heart of David dancing before the ark; of Mesach, Shadrach and Abednego in the fiery furnace; of Paul in prison, Daniel in the lions’ den, John on Patmos, Peter in chains.  The world is not safe from evil – even the body isn’t safe from harm – but within the cloistered heart there is refuge.

My heart, as long as He is in it, is safe.

(The above is a combined repost from our archives)

A Strong Weakness

Emergency services were called to my home a few weeks ago, simply to get me up and out of a reclining chair. Since my latest physical challenges at Eastertime, my muscles have weakened and I'm relying on various aids to help me get around.

Not that I "get around" all that much. I now spend a lot of time in the new electric lift-chair that we bought to replace "the recliner-from-which-I-could-not-stand-up."

I recently talked with a friend about this, remarking that I sometimes feel frustrated at not being able to do anything. My friend swiftly reminded me that oh, I can do many things. I am blogging and writing more than ever, and I'm praying, and I'm gathering bits of saintly inspiration to share here, in this little corner of cyberspace. 

"You're touching people across the earth" said my friend, "and you're doing it from a lift chair!"

Indeed that is something to ponder. Especially in those moments when I feel as if I'm not contributing much to God's work, I find it helpful to recall what I can do ... even from what appears to be a position of helplessness. I sit back in the lift chair, my little computer on a lap desk stretched from arm to arm across it, and I type out words written centuries ago by a saint. Meanwhile, a woman half a world away needs some encouragement. I do not know this, but God does; He knows and loves this lady, and He can inspire me to pick something especially for her as I sit back in my lift chair and pray about what to share.

My new chair is a welcome gift and tool.  The muscle weakness that makes me need it, however, does not feel at all like a gift. I'd be more likely to label that a thorn in the flesh. 

"I asked the Lord three times about this, that it would depart from me" wrote St. Paul of his own thorn. "But He said to me, 'My grace is enough for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.' So then, I will boast most gladly about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may reside in me. Therefore I am content with weaknesses, with insults, with troubles, with persecutions and difficulties for the sake of Christ, for whenever I am weak, then I am strong." (2 Corinthians 12:7-10)

I don't like to call attention to my weaknesses. I prefer to deny them, pretend they aren't there, ignore them altogether. St. Paul, however, reacted differently. He boasted about his weakness, so that the power of God might reside in him. He was content with trials for the sake of Christ. He accepted and embraced the Lord's truth that God's power is made perfect in weakness. 

Maybe it's time to shout from the housetops that when we are weak, God's power can reach perfection. Maybe I should proclaim the truth that God can keep us content in spite of muscle weakness, serene in physical discomfort, and able to evangelize from a lift chair. 

His grace is more than enough.

"I wanted to find an elevator which would raise me to Jesus, for I am too small to climb the rough stairway of perfection. I searched then in the Scriptures for some sign of this elevator, the object of my desires and I read these words coming from the mouth of Eternal Wisdom: 'Whoever is a little one let him come to me.' The elevator which must raise me to heaven is your arms, O Jesus, and for this I have no need to grow up, but rather I have to remain little and become this more and more," And so she abandoned herself to Jesus and her life became a continual acceptance of the will of the Lord." (St Therese of Lisieux's Life at Carmel, Society of the Little Flower)

Painting at top: Louis Comfort Tiffany, Louise Tiffany Reading

 

Tiny Teasing Crosses

'Teach me silence, dearest Jesus,
when in sorrow and in pain,
For to hide in Thee my suffering
makes me love Thy cross again.

Teach me patience, dearest Jesus, 
when all day my heart is tried
by those tiny teasing crosses,
welcome friends - that crush my pride.'

(from 'Listening to the Indwelling Presence' by a Religious, Pelligrini, 1940, p. 122)






Painting: Frank W Benson, The Open Window, 1917

Unsurprise

Buried in God's Will

“Do not live in fear, little flock. It has pleased your Father to give you the kingdom.” (Luke 12:32)

The temptation to worry seems to be part of the human condition.  Some of us have actually been trained in the “art” of worrying, being led to believe that in some way it helps in our management of life. As if worrying about something is a way of rendering it powerless, when of course the opposite is true. "Can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?" asks Jesus in Matthew 6:27.

I'm comforted by knowing that if Our Lord asked this question, it's because there are others who, like me, need to hear ourselves say "no." I am also glad to know there is something I can do when I'm attacked by anxieties and fears. "When I am afraid, I will put my trust in You," says Psalm 56:3. This may sound too simple, but it's actually a good, solid beginning. It places before me a choice. I can focus on worries and concerns, or I can choose to place my trust in God... regardless of how I feel.

"So do not worry," Jesus told His listeners. "Your heavenly Father knows what you need. Seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be given you as well. Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself." (Matthew 6:31-34)

"Entrust yourself entirely to God," said St. Paul of the Cross; "He is a Father and a most loving Father at that, who would rather let heaven and earth collapse than abandon anyone who trusted in Him.” 

"Cast all your worries upon Him, because He cares for you." (1 Peter 5:7)

"And of what should we be afraid? Our captain on this battlefield is Christ Jesus. We have discovered what we have to do. Christ has bound our enemies for us and weakened them that they cannot overcome us unless we choose to let them. So we must fight courageously and mark ourselves with the sign of the most Holy Cross." (St. Catherine of Siena)

"When you notice that your heart is moving away even the tiniest bit from that inner peace that comes from the living faith-experience of the divine presence in the soul, stop and examine what the cause of this anxiety might be. Maybe it is some worry concerning your house or children, or some situation you cannot change at present. Bury it in God's loving will." (St. Paul of the Cross)

For Reflection:  

Do I have trouble trusting in God? Perhaps it will help if I realize that even in the midst of worries and concerns, I can make the choice to place my trust in God. My feelings may be trying to run my life in this matter, but I can choose not to let them do so.

A Prayer:  

Lord, I may be having a difficult time trusting totally in You. I know You understand this. I ask You to heal me, and I choose - in spite of whatever I may be feeling - to turn the management of my life over to You. Please open my eyes to Your tender love and concern for me. 

My past, O Lord, to your mercy; my present, to your love; my future, to your Providence!”  (St. Padre Pio)

Painting: George Hitchcock, Girl on Her Way to Church

Rx: This Name

'Does one of us feel sad? Let the Name of Jesus come into his heart...
And where is that man who, terrified and trembling before impending peril, has not been suddenly filled with courage and rid of fear by calling on the strength of that Name?
Where is the man who, tossed on the rolling seas of doubt, did not quickly find certitude by recourse to the clarity of Jesus's Name?
Was ever a man so discouraged, so beaten down by afflictions, to whom the sound of this Name did not bring new resolve?
In short, for all the ills and disorders to which flesh is heir, this Name is medicine.' 

St. Bernard of Clairvaux

Painting: Wilhelm Bernatzik, Vision of St. Bernard (detail)

If You're Not Feeling Merry

It's a bad time of year to be hurting.  Not that there is a good time for pain, of course, but the days around Christmas and New Year's can be particularly poignant for some.

Many of us have had such seasons. Times when we can't be with loved ones, or a close friend has died, or we've suffered a miscarriage, or we're sick, or we've lost our job, or there is illness in the family.  Even the time of year can make us feel blue.  Here in the northern hemisphere, night falls early in these months of bleak midwinter. We may be struggling to adjust to the long, long, long dark.

For anyone reading this who is sad, in pain, or maybe just wishing the holidays would be over and gone - know that you're not alone. In fact, you are so 'not alone' that I'm going to ask a favor of everyone reading this.

Could we each take just a minute and offer a little prayer for anyone coming across these words who might be hurting?  If this gets to a number of people, that could amount to quite a few prayers.

May God lift burdens, heal pains, comfort loneliness, and soothe hearts. 

'We beseech You, Lord and Master, be our help and succor, save those among us who are in tribulations, have mercy on the lowly, lift up the fallen, show Yourself to the needy, heal the ungodly; convert the wanderers of Your people, feed the hungry, release our prisoners, raise up the weak, comfort the fainthearted, let all nations know You are God.'  (St. Clement of Rome)

'Cast all your cares on Him, because He cares for You.' (1 Peter 5:7)

This is a repost from our archives. It is linked to Reconciled to You and Theology is a Verb for 'It's Worth Revisiting Wednesday.
  
 thecloisteredheart.org 

Painting: Jules Breton, 1862

Be Not Afraid

Painting: Childe Hassam, The Fourth of July, 1916, in US public domain due to age

1,000 Darts

'As soon as worldly people see that you wish to follow a devout life, they aim a thousand darts of mockery and even detraction at you. The most malicious of them will slander your conversion as hypocrisy, bigotry, and trickery. They will say that the world has turned against you and being rebuffed by it you have turned to God. Your friends will raise a host of objections which they consider very prudent and charitable. They will tell you that you will become depressed, lose your reputation in the world, be unbearable, and grow old before your time, and that your affairs at home will suffer and you must live in the world like one in the world. They will say that you can save your soul without going to such extremes, and a thousand similar trivialities.' 

St. Francis de Sales

Painting: Stefano Novo, The Gossips

Which Sweetens All Pains

Painting: Joseph Noel Paton, Christian at the Foot of the Cross, Pilgrim's Progress

I Want to Find Jesus

'From things visible, I no longer desire anything; I want to find Jesus. Fire and cross, wild beasts, broken bones, lacerated members, a body wholly crushed, and satan's every torment, let them all overwhelm me, if only I reach Christ.' (St Ignatius of Antioch, while being led to martyrdom)

Painting:  Neapolitan School of Painting, Ignatius of Antiochie, 1600s

In a Prison Cell as Well

But Only When We Do

In Dryness

Revisiting the Hiding Place

I am appreciating more than ever the Refuge we have available to us in this torn, aching, wounded world.  If we don't realize that parts of our planet and our civilization are in great distress just now, we have been living under a rock.

Yet in the midst of troubling news, moral confusion, and input from a world going mad, we really do have a Rock to live in and on and under. Jesus is our Rock, our Refuge.  He is our Hiding Place, our fortress, our one true cloister.

I see the truth of this when I consider so many saints gone before us... martyrs who much preferred death to the possibility of turning away from Christ.  What grace they received - exactly when they needed it.  This gives me hope.

In Acts 16, for instance, we read of Paul and Silas thrown into jail after having been given many lashes.  Their feet were chained to a stake.  I can imagine myself there, whining and grumbling and feeling sorry for myself.   But were Paul and Silas wailing, angry, groaning?  No.  They were praying and singing hymns to God.

And consider St. Ignatius of Antioch, as he was on his way to be fed to lions.  "Leave me to the beasts," he wrote, "that through them I may be accounted worthy of God.  I am the wheat of God, and by the teeth of the beasts I shall be ground, so that I may be found the pure bread of God.  Greatly provoke the wild beasts so that they may be my grave and leave nothing of my body, so that I won't be a burden on anyone.  Then I will truly be a disciple of Jesus Christ."    

What grace!  The same grace that was given to St. Stephen as he was being stoned.   The same grace (we can believe it) that is offered to people undergoing persecution for Christ today. 

I see Stephen as a perfect patron for those of us who strive to view life "through the grille." If anyone ever saw and responded to circumstances in such a way,  it was he.  Even as his persecutors were preparing to kill him, he boldly exclaimed "'Look!... I see an opening in the sky, and the Son of Man standing at God's right hand."

I am sure this acute view of reality buffered the saint's agony as stones were hurled at him.  "As he was being stoned, he could be heard praying, 'Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.'  He fell to his knees and cried out in a loud voice, 'Lord, do not hold this sin against them.'"  (Acts 7:54, 59, 60) 

"The cloistered heart."  I wrote some years ago, "is the heart of David dancing before the ark; of Mesach, Shadrach and Abednego in the fiery furnace; of Paul in prison, Daniel in the lions’ den, John on Patmos, Peter in chains.  The world is not safe from evil – even the body isn’t safe from harm – but within the cloistered heart there is refuge.  The Lord is with me, He is within my cloister.  My heart, as long as He is in it, is safe." 

I must remember this.  In the madness all around, I must remember.

Within the cloistered heart there is refuge.  The Lord Himself is with me.

My heart, as long as He is in it, is safe.

Text not in quotes © N Shuman 
thecloisteredheart.org

This is a slightly edited repost from our archives. It is linked to Theology is a Verb and Reconciled to You for 'It's Worth Revisiting Wednesday.'
 

What if I'm Hit by a Truck?

Cloister of the heart is nothing if not portable.  Our hearts can be cloistered in airplanes or subways, on beaches and in cars.  Or, as our friend Rose experienced several years ago, when we're being hit by a truck.

    "As I was crossing the street," Rose wrote in a letter, "a big red truck rounded the corner and hit me. The impact sounded like a terrible explosion, and I was thrown to the ground. The police and ambulance came, they strapped me onto the stretcher, and we were off to the hospital.
     It was frightening, but I felt very calm. The fact that I was alive just overwhelmed me. As I lay flat on my back in the emergency room, just staring at the ceiling, I had time to think. My first thoughts were that if I had died - what were my last words? I thought back. I was in a restaurant. I had gone up to the counter and thanked the owner for the nice lunch. This made me feel good, to realize that my last words would have been nice ones. For some reason, that was very important to me. 
     Then I began to ask myself that if I had died, would I have been prepared to meet God for judgment. I thought of my many failings and imperfections that need correcting. I thought of things I can do better in my life. But then: I thought of my morning Mass and Holy Communion. I thought of the time I'd just spent being present to my God only hours before. Would it be terrible for me to admit that at that moment I felt a disappointment that I hadn't died? That I was loving God so much that I really would have liked to have been with Him that very morning?
     As these thoughts were going through my head, my husband came over and took my hand. I looked into his eyes and saw so much love and concern. Then I knew that God knows my husband and children need me and this just wasn't the time for me to leave them. God must have more work for me to do on this earth before He calls me home.

     All afternoon my heart seemed wrapped in prayer. I thanked God over and over for the gift of guardian angels and for His loving care. How can I possibly explain the joy in my heart for the things of God within me when I had just been hit by a truck? It seemed ironic, but my heart was so full of gratefulness and joy. Now I pray 'I offer every beat of my heart as loving alleluias of thankfulness and praise!'
     My sister asked me if this incident has changed my perspective on life any. No, it hasn't. I have always realized that death could come at any time and I have always tried to live my life in this light. It just confirms all that I have always thought and felt.
    One consolation for me was to realize that when faced with the idea that I could have been killed, I was not scared for my soul. I honestly felt that I could have accepted it, embraced it, willingly and with joy.
     I don't know why that truck hit me. I don't know what God has planned for me. I feel a peace and a joy that are unexplainable.
     I want to sing alleluias all day long."
     from a letter by Rose (used with her permission)

This is not the first time we've shared something from Rose here. Click the following titles for more...

Squeezing Through the Crack

When We Feel the Grillwork Crumbling




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thecloisteredheart.org

Any Given Moment

It has helped me (recently) to realize that one moment is all I have. This moment, right now... that's it.

I can no longer use yesterday's moments for God. I can repent of them, or perhaps be glad I used them as I did, or just forget about them - but I cannot change a single one.

And tomorrow's moments? I can pray now for them, offering them to God and asking Him to grace me in advance. But still: the actual arrival of each will place a choice before me.

The moment of right now is the one I truly have. The one in which I can now choose. Shall I give this moment to God .. or not?

I've been thinking about this for the last few days, making an effort to put this moment, and then this next one, to good use.

As I was writing this post, just as I finished that last sentence, the electricity in my house went out.  Finally taking time to string a few thoughts together (which has been particularly tough for me on this topic, for some unknown reason), I felt like my words were suddenly pulled out from under me. No blog screen, no Internet. Stolen moments, or so it seemed. But of course the moments were not stolen at all. Each was given to me, and I could choose whether or not to give it over to God.

I could use any given moment of this tiny trial for grumbling, panicking, fretting. Or I could grab any one and praise God in it, surrender to His will, choose to trust Him.  God is worthy of praise at any given moment, no matter what is happening to me. Even when my air conditioning isn't working and storms roll outside and the food in my freezer is thawing, God is good and is worthy of praise. I can choose to pray. I can smile instead of grumble, trust instead of fret, repent instead of delay and excuse.

Whether I remembered (or chose) to do so as recently as a minute ago, I can give this very moment of my life to God.

"Every moment of your life is like God saying 'look, I know you messed up in the last moment, but here's a new one'... you have a fresh start in this new moment. Every day, every moment of your life is brand new." (Mother Angelica)

A Secret Harbor

Painting: Georg Fischhof

Praying Where Lions Wait

I have never faced the challenge of praying where lions wait. I've never been like Daniel, prohibited from praying, and I haven't endured threats of hungry animals waiting to feast on me if I did.

"All the supervisors of the kingdom... are agreed that the following prohibition ought to be put in force by royal decree: no one is to address any petition to god or man for thirty days, except to you, O king; otherwise he shall be cast into a den of lions.... 

"Even after Daniel heard that this law had been signed, he continued his custom of going home to kneel in prayer and give thanks to his God in the upper chamber three times a day... So these men rushed in and found Daniel praying and pleading before his God...  

"The king ordered Daniel to be brought and cast into the lions' den. To Daniel he said 'May your God, whom you serve so constantly, save you...' the king rose early the next morning and hastened to the lions' den... Daniel answered the king: 'O king, live forever! My God has sent His angel and closed the lions' mouths.'" (Daniel 6)

Today I read the above and ask myself...

Am I ever hesitant to be "caught praying?" Or even to let people know I pray? Perhaps I'm shy about it with my family, neighbors, co-workers. If so, why?

Am I willing to be known as one who serves God?

If I think about my life today, what do I fear?  Maybe I imagine all sorts of "lions" slinking around. Can I make a decision (as tough as it may be to do so) to trust my Lord to save me, and "close the lions' mouths?"

"I decree" wrote the king to all the nations after Daniel was spared, "that throughout my royal domain the God of Daniel is to be reverenced and feared. 'For He is the living God, enduring forever; His kingdom shall not be destroyed, and His dominion shall be without end. He is a Deliverer and Savior, working signs and wonders in heaven and on earth, and He delivered Daniel from the lions' power.'"  

He is a Deliverer and Savior, still working signs and wonders. And He can deliver us from whatever we may face. 

Painting: Briton Reviere, Daniel's Answer to the King

At Least Your Hair

 'So long as God's Providence does not send you these great and heavy afflictions,
so long as He does not ask your eyes, at least give Him your hair.
Take patiently the petty annoyances,
the trifling discomforts,
the unimportant losses which come upon all of us daily;
for by means of these little matters, lovingly and freely accepted,
you will give him your whole heart, and win His.
I mean the acts of daily forbearance; 
the headache, or toothache, or heavy cold;
the tiresome peculiarities of husband or wife,
the broken glass, the loss of a ring, a handkerchief, a glove;
the sneer of a neighbor,
the effort of going to bed early in order to rise early for prayer or Communion,
the little shyness some people feel in openly performing religious duties;
and be sure that all of these sufferings, small as they are, if accepted lovingly, are most pleasing to God's goodness,
which has promised a whole ocean of happiness to His children in return for one cup of cold water. And, moreover, inasmuch as these occasions are forever rising, they give us a fertile field for gathering in spiritual riches, if only we will use them rightly.'

St. Francis de Sales, Introduction to the Devout Life

Painting: Guy Orlando Rose, Warm Afternoon, 1910