Coming home from far

This weekend I got home late both nights, walking alone through the quiet night. I am starting to agree with my friend Catia who says there is a certain “spirituality of the night”. My legs were tired but my heart was really, really full. It’s that old, familiar “coming home from the youth group” feeling. Also that feeling of accompishment of doing scary things... well for me, do you count making parish announcements as scary?

“Men com tamely home at night only from the next field or street where their household echoes haunt, and their life pines because it breathes its own breath over again; their shadows morning and evening reach farther than their daily steps. We should come from far, from adventures, and perils, and discoveries every day, with new experiences and character.”

(from Walden, by Henry David Thoreau, chapter “Baker Farm”)

Pictures: stained glass at my parish, my daily train trip, a sweet engagement card from my friends in the US I’ve been showing to everyone…

St. Therese of Lisieux quotes

St. Therese as a child

Reading St. Therese of Lisieux's The Story of a Soul was a page-turner and exceeded expecations for me, just like Mother Teresa's book. Actually, the two Teresas have a lot in common, as I was surprised to find out when I read this book. Common themes of being missionaries, of spiritual darkness, of satiating Jesus's thirst for love on the cross, of redemptive suffering, etc.


The most incredible thing for me after reading this book was how such a simple person and small life could be such a great and far-reaching saint. It really is true that small things are made great by God and all of the best things are hidden. The epilogue concludes, "Her heroic virtue was exercised in such ordinary ways that it was not easily recognizable. One Sister was heard to remark: 'She is very good, but she has certainly never done anything worth speaking about.'" 

Here are a few of my favorite quotes:

• My thoughts used to become very deep then, and though I had no idea of what meditation was, my soul was really lost in prayer. I listened to the sounds that came from far away and the murmur of the wind. Sometimes snatches of martial music were carried from the town, making me feel rather sad; earth seemed to me a place of exile, and I dreamed of Heaven. (p. 18)
• I must admit that, when I read certain tales of chivalry, I did not always grasp the realitites of life; in my enthusiasm I wanted to do all the patriotic things the heroines of France had done, especially Joan of Arc. It was at this time that I was given what I have always considered one of my life's greatest graces, for God did not enlighten me then in the way He does now. He taught me that the only glory which matters is the glory which lasts forever and that one does not have to perform shining deeds to win that, but to hide one's acts of virtue from others, and even from oneself, so that "the left hand does not know what the right hand is doing." (Cf. Matt. 6:3) (p. 40) 

  

  St. Therese dressed up as Joan of Arc

• I should have been a thousand times happier under a thatched roof with a hope of entering Carmel than I was in the midst of gilded apartments, marble staircases and silk hangings, while my heart was in anguish. I learned from experience that joy does not reside in the things about us, but in the very depths of the soul, that one can have it in the gloom of a dungeon as well as in the palace of a king. (p. 80)
• I know from experience that "the Kingdom of God is within us" (Luke 17:21), that Jesus has no need of books or doctors to instruct our soul; He, the Doctor of Doctors, teaches us without the sound of words. (p. 109)
• Prayer, for me is simply a raising of the heart, a simple glance towards Heaven, an expression of love and gratitude in the midst of trial, as well as in times of joy; in a word, it is something noble and supernatural expanding my soul and uniting it to God. (p. 141)
• It is therefore unnecessary, my Jesus, to say "draw those I love in drawing me." It is quite enough to say simple, "Draw me." For once a sould has been captivated by the odor of Your ointments, she cannot run alone; by the very fact of being drawn to You herself, she draws all the souls she loves after her. Just as a mighty river carries with it all it meets into the ocean's depths, so, my Jesus, a soul which plunges into the boundless ocean of Your love bears all her treasures with her. (p. 150) ... This is just what I ask. I want Jesus so to draw me into the flames of His love, so to make me one with Himself that He may live and act in me. I feel that the more the fire of love inflames my heart, the more I shall say, "Draw me," and the more swiftly those who are around about me will run "in the sweet odor of the Beloved." (p. 153) 

Let go, let God

This week was one of those "get home and try just to do the basics but be really tired and do half of what I wanted to do" weeks. Today was the culmination of tiredness at work, having lost one contact halfway through the day and had a crying kid throw a temper tantrum (in class) that lasted about an hour. A part I read in St. Therese of Lisieux's Story of a Soul has really stuck with me this week: 

"The fact that, left to myself, I could do nothing, made my task seem all the more simple; there was only one thing for me to do, unite myself more and more to God, knowing that He  would give all the rest in addition. This was no vain hope; no matter how often I have to feed the souls of my Sisters, my hand is always full. I assure you that had I acted in any other way, had I relied upon my own resources, I should have had to lay down my arms at once. At first sight, it appears easy to do good to souls, to make them love God more, and mold them according to one's own ideas, but in practice one finds that one can no more do good to souls without God's help than make the sun shine in the night. One realizes that one must completely forget one's own ideas and tastes, and guide souls along the particular path indicated for them by Jesus, not along one's own..." (in chapter "The Way of Love")

And so I have to remind myself there is only one thing to do (unite myself more and more to God). I remind myself of this when I try to "mold" my religious education students, when I worry about my youth group, when I try to "fix" Daniel or my family members. Here's to LETTING GO! 

Holding the hidden life dear

"It is not His earthly house He wants to give us. He shows us that only to make poverty and the hidden life dear to us. It is His palace of glory that He is keeping for us, and we shall see Him then, not in the guise of a child or under the form of bread, but as He is, radiant in His infinite beauty." 

-St. Therese of Lisieux in The Story of a Soul, ch. 6

...I think I am finally starting to see how far from loving poverty and the "hidden life" I am. Not everyone has to see that I'm using my God-given talents in order to be using them. And I certainly don't have to be getting worldly recognition (or money) for them. 

My youth group on Saturday...

The true object of all human life is play

I am happy the weather has gotten cold and rainy. I've come to realize recently that winter/Christmas is my favorite season. I love feeling cozy, bundled up in a scarf or even under an umbrella. I even like running in the rain. Today everything was a little wet and it was nice to come home to chocolate chip cookies and a milky drink after dinner. 

The only thing that's missing at the end of the day/in my house is... people. Someone to share those cookies with or someone to enjoy the rain with. Hopefully, one day soon that will happen. My longer work schedule has made it more difficult to invite people over.  

"It might reasonably be maintained that the true object of all human life is play. Earth is a task garden; heaven is a playground. To be at last in such secure innocence that one can juggle with the universe and the stars, to be so good that one can treat everything as a joke — that may be, perhaps, the real end and final holiday of human souls." - G. K. Chesterton

My article today on IgnitumToday...

Faith Manifesto

Julie Rodrigues | October 16, 2012 AD | Reply

This month marks the beginning of the Year of Faith, which has gotten me to think… do I really have faith? If I lived at the time of Jesus, would I really touch Him, approach Him and talk to Him with faith? I came across an interesting footnote to Lk 23:6-12 (The New American Bible, 1987), when Jesus is before Herod. It says,

“The appearance of Jesus before Herod is found only in this gospel. Herod has been an important figure in Lk (9,7-9; 13,31-33) and has been presented as someone who has been curious about Jesus for a long time. His curiosity goes unrewarded. It is faith in Jesus, not curiosity, that is rewarded (7,50; 8,48.50; 17,19).”

Do I really believe? … or am I just curious, like Herod?

Keep reading here at IgnitumToday...

A few reasons why "I'm gonna marry that good hearted man"...

I don't think love is entirely logical (just somewhat), nor can it be confined to a few reasons. But I just have to share a little about why I think about this man 24 hours a day. I've made a lot of wrong decisions in the past, but these are a few reasons why our wedding next summer will be a eyes-wide-open YES! YES! decision for me. 

1. He is a "good hearted man". I won't go on and on about his qualities, but they are never-ending. 

2. God put him in my path... quite literally. We met in church when he asked me about a Bible study I was helping out with. Then I invited him to the youth group.

3. Our relationship is getting better over time (not worse), we are handling disagreements well and I can't imagine life without him. 

(from ConversionDiary... here)

4. When we were experiencing a lot of difficulties in our relationship 1 year and a half ago, he not only was open to receiving help but actively sought it out with me. I think that's not only a sign of great humility, but of health as a person and for our relationship. 

5. He has made and continues to make a lot of sacrifices for me. He is willing to listen, to change and to wait for me. 

6. He treats his mom really well. In my opinion too well (!)... but don't they say you should look at how a man treats his mom? ;)

7. I just can't imagine a more beautiful human being, inside and out. He is different from and better than any dream man I could have imagined in my little head. When I am with him, I feel at home. ♥   

(Pictures of us in downtown Lisbon...)

If you liked it then you should have put a ring on it...

It's true, I really did dream of a ring (see quote below) and it has changed my life drastically since I received it a few months ago. Luckily, it hasn't been just an exterior thing, but interior: good decisions, clearer priorities, more stability, better prayer, more awareness of what's really important. And this has all been thanks to my "adequate help" (Gn 2:18)... and current fiancee... Daniel. He not only makes me a better person, he makes life a lot better. 

Two or three years ago, someone told us: "If it's really love, it will only grow each day." And in the last year, it really has. I'm so excited about the future. 

“Aristóteles define o seu ponto de referência: ‘Por macho entendemos o ser que gera noutro, e por fêmea o ser que gera em si’. O homem penetra e a mulher é penetrada; o homem gera no exterior de si, a mulher concebe no seu seio. Isso não significa que um é activo e a outra passiva, mas que a acção masculina é transitiva (termina fora do agente) e a acção feminina é imanente (acaba no interior) – o que confere ao homem e à mulher uma imagem dos seus corpos radicalmente distinta. Onde no amor ela sente como acolhedora, ele apreende-se como conquistador. Como é que a sua relação com o mundo poderia ser a mesma? O menino brinca à guerra. A menina sonha com a aliança no dedo.”

From A Profundidade dos Sexos by Fabrice Hadjadj, p. 66

(my translation)“Aristotle defines his point of reference: ‘By male we understand the being that generates in another, and by female the being that generates in herself’. Man penetrates and woman is penetrated; man generates in his exterior, woman conceives in her womb. This does not mean that one is active and the other passive, but instead that masculine action is transitive (ends outside the agent) and feminine action is immanent (ends inside) – which confers to man and woman a radically different image of their bodies. While in love she feels welcoming, he sees himself as a conquerer. How could their relationship with the world possibly be the same? The boy plays war. The girl dreams of a wedding ring on her finger.” 

A hidden chapel

Last week, I was very upset about the train I usually take to work being on strike (for about the fifty-millionth time this year). 

The bad part (VERY bad part): I had to get up an hour earlier (5:30 to catch the only train available). 

The good part: with my extra time (getting to work an hour earlier) I found a place I had been wanting to see for some time: a Schoenstatt chapel. 

It's right behind a residential house and I was so surprised to find the gate open when I pushed it and the little chapel with its lights on at 7:30 in the morning. It was so surprising and comforting to see that in the places where I least expect it, there is something really amazing and providential happening. In the middle of a residential neighborhood, so close to my work... something that if you didn't look for it you wouldn't find it! I realized, after having found this hidden place of prayer and holiness last week, that... 

anything that is great and important to God is small and hidden in the world. 

Schoenstatt's unity cross: "It depicts the Virgin Mary - the 'woman' at the foot of the cross - as an icon of the Church and humanity, receiving the blood of the crucified Christ in a chalice. It is the moment of the mystical, spousal union of the New Adam and the New Eve (see pp. 120-123 for a discussion of this mystery)." - p. 271 of Christopher West's book, At the Heart of the Gospel

Ourem for the weekend

A weekend I have been dreading for a long time turned out to be... quite alright, surprisingly. Daniel and I went to Quinta da Alcaidaria-Mor in Ourem (near Fatima) with his friends from college. They have an annual get-together in different places. This place was beautiful and had lots of things to do. Other than stuff our faces with good food, we rode bikes (until Daniel's tire got a hole), he swam in the pool and went go-karting with his friends. The girls were girly (myself included) and just watched while the boys drove their karts around in circles and got really competitive and aggressive. 

I think I finally learned to value his friends, even though they are different from me and different from what I used to think would be "good" for Daniel. Life really is so out of our control... and I'm glad it is. I'm glad it's difficult/uphill yet surprising and better than I could imagine. 

“No friendship is an accident. ” 

― O. Henry, Heart of the West

This house has always been Christian (sign on left); This house has always been monarchist (sign on right)

Riding bikes...

Daniel and his friends competing in go-karts (he's the one in the middle...)

...Vroom! There he goes...

AM to PM

Two things I wouldn't trade for anything lately: 

My morning oatmeal (breakfast takes 30 minutes, but there's nothing like leaving with something hot in your stomach) and my nightly journaling/prayer. 

We must pray without tiring, for the salvation of mankind does not depend on material success; nor on sciences that cloud the intellect. Neither does it depend on arms and human industries, but on Jesus alone.- St. Frances Cabrini

Lack of prayer is the cause of lack of time. - Peter Kreeft

Why the small things?

This blog is dedicated to the small moments: the cups of tea from my weekend at home (see below), sweet hallmark cards sent to me from across the Atlantic, running barefoot on the beach, accepting failure, the importance of friendship, etc. 

Why?

Because...

• ..."the home, in all its aspects, is the most crucial element in influencing happiness" (http://happiness-project.com/books/happier-at-home/about-the-book/). 
• ...the extraordinary is in the ordinary. 
• ...strength is in the small things: “Do not think that love in order to be genuine has to be extraordinary. What we need is to love without getting tired. Be faithful in small things because it is in them that your strength lies.” ― Mother Teresa
• ...love is not in the big projects, our career path, or our reputation. It's in our daily prayer life, our cultivating of virtue, our relationships. It's in the present moment, in "the cup washed with extra care before it's returned to the cupboard" (from conversiondiary.com's Rock the Present Moment). 
• "I know she's not perfect, but she tries so hard for me. And I thank God that she isn't 'cause how boring would that be. It's the little imperfections, it's the sudden change in plans. When she misreads the directions and we're lost but holdin' hands. Yeah I live for little moments like that." from "Little Moments" by Brad Paisley
• "And it's the way that she looks with her eyes and her hair. Eatin' burnt suppers the whole first year and askin' for seconds to keep her from tearin' up. Yeah man that's the good stuff." from "Good Stuff" by Kenny Chesney

My Hat Hangs There

Frida's My Dress Hangs There...


My cowboy hat hangs there...

Even though I rarely wear my cowboy hat (it's kind of tight) and summer has faded away, I still like to leave it hanging on my coat rack. It makes me feel like a cowgirl, who just came in from a hard day of ploughing the fields or something. I also love to see it with the contrast of my Portuguese tiles and arch entrance. It's a cultural oddball, like Frida Kahlo's painting, My Dress Hangs There.