A Blue Rosary

I have a beautiful blue glass rosary hanging from my bed. If you know me, you might find this odd, since my Catholic background consists of some dearly loved relatives, several years of Christmas mass, and numerous viewings of Sister Act (1 and 2). I’ve never actually prayed the rosary, although for someone with a chronically scattered mind, the idea of something to give structure and direction to my prayer time is very appealing. The rosary is there not for my daily prayers, but as a reminder of God’s faithfulness. When I see it, it reminds me that every unexpected twist in my life is part of His plan and is leading me closer to Him.


You see, this particular rosary belonged to my grandma. It was a gift I found for her on a visit to the Vatican while backpacking through Europe after college. At the time, it symbolized everything that was beautiful about our relationship. It was a reminder of travel, a love of which she had encouraged in me all my life. It was a symbol of the faith that is universal in all those who love and seek the Lord, that her protestant granddaughter would give her something so meaningful to her own way of worship. It represented the endless discussions we’d had over the years about who God is and how we relate to Him. We didn’t always agree, but we always spoke with love and respect. Now it means even more to me.

This week marks the second anniversary of my grandmother’s passing. A grandmother who taught me so much: how to knit and quilt, how to play cards, how to shop like a pro, how to love unconditionally, how to find humor and joy in everything, and how to be strong when life is crushing you. One of the last things she said to me when I visited her in the final weeks of her life was, “Don’t forget me.” How could I? Not a week goes by that I don’t miss her, that I don’t wish I could call and tell her some exciting news or ask her advice about something. I wish I could hear her tell me her stories again. I think she would be proud of me, raising my sons to love God, people, and learning; working to improve health and community care, especially for moms and children; and keeping up with my writing. There are 1,001 things that make me think of her nearly every day. The Murano glass rosary by my bed is just one of them. She is far from forgotten.

One of the things I remember best about my grandma is her love of storytelling. She loved a good story, whether it was a book, a movie, or her own history. I was privileged to hear her relate the joys and struggles of her life many times, so richly that at times I felt like I had  been with her in New York City in the 1950’s as she completed nurses’ training, or smelling spring tulips in Holland on her trip of a lifetime to Europe. As I look back on her story, I see the theme of God’s faithfulness. I see the countless ways He provided for her, prepared her for the storms, and showered her with blessings.

My grandmother was certainly not perfect, but she was blessed with a number of excellent character traits. Among them were courage, compassion, and common sense, all of which served her well in her life: in a career of over 30 years as an ER nurse, as she faced the loss of her beloved husband after just a few years of marriage, in her walk for several years as a single mother to three small children, and in her final battle with cancer. She loved fiercely, and she fought tirelessly for those she loved.

God also blessed her with an outstanding network of friends and family that surrounded and supported her throughout her life. She had parents that encouraged and inspired her, and helped her get back on her feet after becoming a young widow. Her eight younger siblings loved and respected her all her days. She remained close friends with several women who had gone to nursing school with her to the very end of her life. She found love and partnership again with the man I always loved as my grandfather. Her children and grandchildren loved and admired her. Many others were there at key points in her life to care for her, encourage her, and walk with her. At her memorial service, everyone who was able brought or sent in the Christmas stockings she had knitted for generations of family and friends. They were hung on the wall, and stretched the full length of the ballroom. It was a visual testimony to how many lives she touched and was touched by.

Not only was my grandmother blessed with a strong character and support network, she was blessed with many moments of God’s goodness and joy. She experienced success in her own career as an RN, and saw all of her children graduate from college and become successful in their own fields. She saw plays and musicals on Broadway. Her travels took her across the country and across the world. She glowed at the wedding of her eldest grandchild, and several years later she bounced her first great-grandchild on her knee and sang the same songs and rhymes to him that she had sung to his mother 30 years before. For a woman who valued family above all, it was a sweet gift. In the final month of her life, she was able to visit the ocean one last time with many of her siblings, where she laid in the sunshine, reading a book and listening to the waves. It was a little preview of heaven for her. Even in her last conscious day, she was blessed with the knowledge that when her life on earth ceased, her eternal life with her Heavenly Father would begin, and she would be reunited with loved ones who had made the journey before her.


Grandma and me on my wedding day

Grandma didn’t have financial wealth to pass down to her children and grandchildren, but we each inherited great treasure from her legacy. And me, I was given back the rosary that had come from Italy 10 years before and been beside her bed ever since. Now it is beside my bed to remind me not only of the exceptional woman who had loved me all my life, but also of the God who had loved her all her life. No matter where her journey took her, no matter how close or distant she felt to the Lord, He was there. I take great comfort in knowing that I have the same God shepherding me as I encounter the trials of my own life.

Whose legacy inspires you? 


Tuesday’s Truth – Handmade, Handpicked

Welcome, Friends!


I hope your week has been filled with opportunities to find joy. Although I complained about the weather in Kansas in my last post, I have to confess that I had a wonderful week. I particularly enjoyed spending time with my grandmother, getting her to share memories of her childhood. I highly encourage you to probe the memories of the older people in your life. And don’t just ask about the big events; get them to share stories of their siblings, pets, their favorite foods and activities. It can be a wonderful way to connect with them. I always find it fascinating to trace the story of someone’s life and see how different circumstances and experiences have shaped them into who they are now. It makes me wonder what my current experiences and surroundings are preparing me for.


With this already floating in my mind this week, I read Isaiah 49. Two verses jumped out at me, probably because of my recent train of thought and because of my own pregnancy. The first is verse 1, in which Isaiah states, “The Lord called me before I was born. He named me while I was in my mother’s womb.” (Isaiah 49:1)  The second is verse 5, where the author goes on to say that the Lord “formed me from the womb to be His Servant.” (Isaiah 49:5) The Lord told the prophet Jeremiah almost the same things as Isaiah, “I chose you before I formed you in the womb; I set you apart before you were born.” (Jeremiah 1:5)


Now, clearly, we have not each been chosen to be a prophet on the scale of Isaiah or Jeremiah. But I couldn’t shake the idea that God knows us and lays out a plan for us from our very earliest moments, whether we are destined to be a great prophet, or a stay-at-home parent. My mind immediately went to other scriptures that speak to God’s knowledge of each child from before birth. David, in the Psalms, proclaims God’s active influence on the development and growth of each child, both physically and spiritually: “For it was You who created my inward parts;You knit me together in my mother’s womb.” (Psalm 139:13)  From there I traveled to the New Testament, where Paul tells us that as believers, “We are His creation, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared ahead of time so that we should walk in them.” (Ephesians 2:10)


It’s clear that God’s work in our lives does not start at birth, it does not start when we enter school, it does not start when we choose to accept and follow Him, and it does not start when we feel we are ready. It starts before we are even the proverbial twinkle in our parents’ eyes. God doesn’t move us around like chess pieces, reacting to current events and situations, hoping that He can keep ahead of the other side. He has all the moves mapped out before a single piece is placed on the board. He has it all planned out for you, and what’s more, He handcrafted you as the specific piece you are. You are not an assembly line product, but a masterpiece made by hand, not to be sold to any customer, but to be enjoyed and loved by the Master Creator.


Such a thought should fill you with joy and wonder. I cannot fully comprehend the idea that God made me exactly as He wanted me, and that He has some special purpose for me to fulfill. I feel rather ordinary most of the time, and even less than ordinary on occasion. And yet, if I believe what Isaiah, Jeremiah, David, and Paul say, I am unique, wonderful, special, chosen by the King of the universe for His service and pleasure. When I really believe that, I look at myself differently. Not with pride, because I can take no credit for any of it; but with thankfulness, respect and love towards the One who made me.


But not only do I think of myself differently, I must view others differently too. When I look at you, my child, or my neighbor, I ought to see another example of God’s master craftsmanship. I ought to regard others with respect and wonder because God created them and planned their purpose from the earliest moments. I cannot regard any person, regardless of their stage of life or their perceived abilities or inabilities, as less or more valuable than myself, because they have each been knit together by the same hands. Knowing and believing that we have been handmade and handpicked by God should color our every thought and action, whether it is in regards to ourselves, or to others.


Your mind may be quickly turning to issues of sanctity of life, the treatment of those with physical or mental handicaps, of the variety of prejudices we as humans may hold. And you would be right; those issues are a perfect place for this truth to inform our thoughts and actions. But to only focus on those issues would be a mistake. This truth should also influence the way we speak to our spouse and our children, the way we treat the cashier at the grocery, the way we perceive the old man in the park. God’s truths were never meant to be stored in a box and only brought out for special occasions and grand debates. They were meant to be carried with each of us, guiding and counseling us in every area as we walk through life.


Meditate on these verses this week. Allow them to shape and change your mind as you view yourself and those around you as God’s special, chosen ones made for a wonderful purpose.


What’s On Your Playlist?

Hello there, long time no write! I’ve been doing some new things with my days, and suddenly, I realized that I now have no time! I’ve really missed writing here, though, and I’m going to squeeze in whatever I can.

Today, I was listening to an old mix CD I had made in college. Yes, I’m old enough to have still used CD’s in college, but I did have an iPod too. It just had a tiny screen and lots of clicky buttons. And it weighed at least a pound. Anyways, I was listening to this CD as I drove around town, and I realized that the songs on that CD were not songs I had even thought about listening to in a long time. And then I quickly reminisced about all the other music that seemed to define my college years, and I had the sudden thought that the music we listen to regularly says a lot about who we are at that moment in time.

As I thought about it, I found that the idea that tied much of my college music together was anger. To give you a good example, during my first year of grad school, a dear male friend of mine took me to visit an old roommate and friend that had transferred to a college in North Carolina. She and I had both recently gone through difficult relationships with members of the opposite sex, and we needed some time to commiserate with one another. Our mutual friend who drove me up there now refers to this trip as the “angry girls” trip. The main feature of our visit was listening to Kelly Clarkson’s album, Breakaway, which is mostly a collection of angry or sad songs, most of them completely appropriate for after a big fight or a breakup. Our friend still cringes whenever he hears on of those songs. It may seem silly, but at the time I found in those songs a connection to the disappointment, pain, and anger that I was feeling just then.

And yet, if you had asked me to describe my attitude or feelings during those years, I probably would not have described myself as particularly angry. I don’t think I realized at the time just how much I was fighting against my circumstances and my own inner self. I was trying to define myself, trying to distinguish myself from my family, from my childhood, and from the rest of the people at the University. I didn’t know how to do it gracefully, so I beat about like a moth trying to escape a spider’s web. I also was finding that I wasn’t sure I liked some of my attempts at establishing my identity, and I think I was a bit at war with myself over who I would become. Nothing like an internal struggle to make you angry. I wondered, as I thought about it this morning, if perhaps I wasn’t as conscious of what was going on in my heart and mind because I had the music to tie into. Stick with me here. I really feel that the music had an effect on how I processed my emotions and circumstances. On the one hand, it helped me move along by giving me an outlet and a cathartic release for my emotions that might have stayed pent up inside me. So perhaps my angry music helped me move on from being angry more quickly. On the other hand, I know that sometimes the music just reinforced what I was feeling and allowed me to stay angry as I repeated the same liturgy of anger and depression over and over. In that sense, I was putting my feelings on repeat, just like I put the songs on repeat.

But what does this mean to you? Well, for one, if you are having a really bad day/week/month, and need something to help you get those feelings out, I can highly recommend that Kelly Clarkson album. But then, I also recommend you don’t do what I did, which is put your feelings on a constant loop of repeats. It’s one thing to be angry, or hurt, or sad, or afraid. Those are all legitimate emotions, and it is critical that you recognize, accept, and deal with them. The danger is when you allow those emotions to swirl around you and become the constant soundtrack of your life. Yes, belt out an angry song so you don’t build up emotional pressure. Go ahead and listen to a song that makes you cry when you need to let the sadness spill out. But then change the station, put on a new album, and listen to something that inspires you or puts a smile on your face. Soaring classical, the bubbliest of bubblegum, perky pop, something country that makes you want to Texas Two-Step (even if you have no idea what that really entails)…use the power of the music.

History and experience tell us that music has a profound ability to affect us. Isn’t that what we were just talking about? Music has the power to influence our moods, thoughts, and emotions. Remember King David, before he was anyone important, was boy with the gift of music. Back then he wore a tunic and played a harp. If he were around today, he’d probably have some kind of goatee and play a guitar. And guess what his job was, aside from being a shepherd – he was invited to King Saul’s palace for one thing – to play music and calm Saul down when he was on the edge of mental breakdown. And it worked! David played, and Saul felt better.

So think about it. What is the playlist of your life right now? How does it reflect your feelings or mood at this moment in your life? Furthermore, how does it affect your feelings or your mood? Do you need to turn the music up, or do you need to turn it off and finds something else to listen to?


Hello friends! I’d like you to go down memory lane with me a bit. Come with me back to the days of middle school and high school. Depending on your age, it may be a longer trip, so if you’re over 30, I’ll give you a head start. 10, 9, 8…okay, here we all are. If you are of the feminine persuasion, as I am, you’ll probably remember a game called MASH. For all you guys out there who didn’t know girls existed when you were 15, and if you did, you had absolutely no idea what they were talking about when they were together, you’re just going to have to follow along.

If you didn’t play MASH as a teenage girl, I’ll clue you in. No, it is not a game about army hospitals during the Korean war. That wouldn’t be very fun. MASH is an acronym for Mansion, Apartment, Shack, House. Basically, the game was like a huge fortune teller that would predict who you were going to marry, where you would live, how many children you would have, etc. Sometimes the MASH gods were smiling, and you would get paired with your (for that week) crush, and you would live in a mansion with your 3 adorable children. Other times you would know that the MASH gods were angry and needing some small sacrifice because you would be paired with the most odious male in your acquaintance, and you would be doomed to live in a shack with him and your 47 children.  No one ever took it seriously, but it was a great way to pass some idle time on a bus or at a sleep-over.

Well, today as I was sorting through some mementos of my high school days (read: throwing out junk that mattered a lot 10 years ago, but now I have no idea why I kept it), I found a paper napkin covered in my best friend’s handwriting. Turned out that it was a game of MASH. I suppose the only reason I had stuffed it in my box of mementos back then was because it paired me with the most wonderful, beautiful, kind, talented, romantic guy in the world (read: the guy I had a crush on because he wasn’t already taken by one of my friends) That had to be it, since the rest of the game prophesied that I would be an auto mechanic on welfare with 13 children. I had a good laugh reminiscing about the crazy high school days, and then I wadded it up to throw out like the rest of the trash.

But then it got me to thinking. I can still clearly remember my 17-year-old self thinking that I couldn’t possibly be happy in life if I didn’t end up with that guy. I hoped and prayed that somehow God would work it out so that my whole like could revolve around the process of winning his heart. I knew that one day he would wake up, so to speak, and realize that I was a beautiful, alluring, talented, extremely desirable girl, rather than the awkward, overly loud, intimidating, somewhat bearable she-beast that he had heretofore seen me as. (Note: Me at 17 was a lot more like description 2 than I would like to admit). I’ll let you skip to the end of the book here: we didn’t end up together. He ended up with a string of several girls that were the complete opposite of me, even on my best day. I ended up with a man who saw me as beautiful, alluring, talented and desirable without having a revelation from on high. I am incredibly happy, and do not regret that my “dreams” didn’t come true.

I would imagine that we can each think of at least one situation from our past where we desperately wanted things to go one way, but in the end they went in a totally different direction. And for most of us, we don’t even need to think back to high school. It might be something from last year, last month, or last week. We often don’t have the final say in the situations of our life. And all too often, we accuse God of making the wrong decisions for us. He really shouldn’t have let our husband get laid off, or our wife get cancer, or our car get totaled, or our child get accepted into a college 2,000 miles away. Those things weren’t in the plan that we so carefully drew up for God. Apparently He wasn’t paying close enough attention when we told Him how our life was supposed to go.

Silly little human. 

Would you let your son play in the street just because he said that’s what he wanted? Would you let your daughter eat only jelly beans for a month because she just doesn’t like carrots? No, you know what is best for your child, and you will make that best happen, whether your child would like you to or not. So often we forget that God is our Father in every sense, not just in some master-overlord-originator way. He loves us in a way we can’t understand. He is constantly nurturing and protecting us, even when we don’t notice it.  He knows what is best for us, and sometimes, just like the three-year-old who doesn’t understand why she can’t subsist on jelly beans, we don’t understand why we can’t have it our way. God does not work for Burger King. He doesn’t take orders. Yes, He absolutely hears our prayers, our requests. He knows our desires. And what’s more, He wants to fulfill the desires of our hearts. In fact, He knows what we really want, going far beyond what we say we want. He understood that my desire as a teenage girl was to be loved completely, far more than my desire was for the attention of a certain boy. And He was faithful to fulfill the real desire of my heart. He did it in His way, in His timing, and for His purpose for me.

You may be looking at something in your life right now that is not at all the way you planned or expected. You may be praying for God to change your circumstance, to make it all better, as it were. There is nothing wrong with that. Tell Him you’re hurting. Tell Him you didn’t see this coming, and that you don’t know what to do next. Ask Him to help you find your feet again. Admit that you need His help. I can guarantee that He is not sitting on His throne in Heaven whipping the rugs out from under people just for the fun of seeing them scramble. Remember that we only see the immediate effects of the changes in our life; we cannot see where the changes will lead in a year, ten years, or a hundred years. God’s plan for you is good. His plan is for you to know Him intimately, to trust Him deeply, and to enjoy Him fully. To achieve that plan, there may be bumps (or even mountain ranges) along the way. The path may diverge greatly from the plan you mapped out for yourself. Sometimes you may be completely bewildered and feel lost. Take heart, dear friends, for just as your own children do not always see how closely you watch over them, you may not feel that the Father is protecting you or guiding you, but you can be certain, without a doubt, that He is indeed watching you, ready to pick you up if you stumble, to soothe and heal when you are hurt. He has never abandoned you, even in your darkest moments, and He never will.

May He make your heart glad!