Trusting my father.

A few years ago I was in central Auckland with my son and his 10 year old daughter Lily. We were looking for a certain shop and after a long and tiring search we saw it - on the opposite side of the road. Between it and us were unceasing streams of traffic; we were tired and the traffic lights were a long way away. Suddenly there was a slight break in the flow and my son said urgently "Let's go!"and he grabbed Lily's hand and we dashed across the road. When we got to the other side Michael teased Lily "And Lily didn't even look!" "Why should I?" She retorted "When I was holding my father's hand???" That really struck me! How often have I worried and fretted about situations in my life yet I believe God is my Father and he's holding me in his hands. Why couldn't I trust him as my granddaughter trusted her father? I haven't quite managed to have such faith in God's protection as I should but I'm still praying and working on it!

Blessings

I am at peace now about going to the Parish Mass and no longer yearn so much for the beloved Latin Mass. God's Will be done. We all had surprise at Mass this week though. Fr came on the altar before Mass and showed us the things he had been buying: new vestments, hangings to help us focus on the current season of the Church and a chalice. They were all stunningly beautiful and Father explained that he felt that as a Parish we should honour God by giving him the best we can in our service to Him. He also told us that when we arrive in the Church for Sunday Mass we will smell incense, this is to remind us we have left the everyday world for a while and entered a place of holiness. I feel so blessed by this news and a further blessing is that St Vincent De Paul have a large offering basket for donations of food for the poor in the church foyer and it is often full to overflowing. That too shows a Parish with a caring, loving spirit. God is good and I can trust him to guide my life. As we all can.

Changes

How I've neglected my little blog recently. But it's been a time of turmoil for me. After a minor fall when I was in the USA it was discovered I had a very fragile back and the fall fractured several vertabrae. At least I gather that was what happened. Anyway, I have to face the fact thatI have a damaged back and sitting in a church pew is painful for me and kneeling is impossible. So changes have had to be made. I can't go to Latin Mass or daily Mass anymore. I do go to Sunday Mass at my local church which has taken some getting used to. Thankfully there is a padded seat at the very back of the church which I can sit in The congregation at my local church is very multicultural and very relaxed. There dozens of small children milling around constantly and the noise is incredible. But...Our Blessed Lord is there and really that is all that matters. Isn't there something in the Bible about our lives having'seasons'? Well my 'season' now is to learn tolerance and a different kind of love, and to make my own silent space to receive, thank and worship Him at his wonderful gift, the Mass.

Sacrificing Lent

I an hardly believe that Lent is almost over! Because of continuing ill health I have been almost unable to go to Mass and so have hardly noticed it IS Lent. And I miss it! I miss quietly saying the Stations of the Cross at St Mary's Church after Mass, I miss the flowerless altars and the purple shrouded statues. I miss the small extra sacrifices we make to remind us of Christ's supreme sacrifice for us, and I miss looking forward eagerly to the joyous celebration of Easter. But if it is God's Will that I must manage without those things this Lent then I've tried to yield them up willingly and with some quiet joy as a very different lenten sacrifice.

An English Catholic.

Tomorrow is St Patrick's Day and perhaps it is a good day as any to confess to something that I seldom mention; I am, that rare breed, a totally English Catholic. When I was a child I found this very puzzling. Almost all the kids in my class were from Ireland or of Irish stock and so were the teachers. I asked my mother repeatedly about it as I felt very left out, but no, my mother was absolutely sure, we were English. And so things remained until I met Alex. He was, and is, an amateur historian and is half Irish himself. He was fascinated by the idea of an English Catholic with apparently no Irish roots. "How could you be?" he mused "For many centuries it was almost impossible to be a Catholic in England unless you were very wealthy. There were no Churches and no priests." But thanks to the internet he has recently managed to solve the mystery. For many centuries my ancestors were workers on the Estate of a Catholic landowner who insisted that all his workers were Catholics. How the landowner managed to stay onside with the some of the ruling monarchs we don't know but somehow he did. So we don't actually celebrate St Patrick's Day in our family but we will be wearing a rose on St Georges Day!

Missing Anna

I have been thinking that perhaps I should change the name of this blog. I called it "Anna's Song" because even as a child I loved the story of Anna who spent her time in praying in the church. I very much wanted to be like Anna and when I started this blog I was in the habit of praying daily in the church. Even if for some reason I couldn't be present at Mass I always paid a visit to pray in God's house. But things have changed. I cannot at the present time drive and as we don't live withing walking distance of a church I have to rely on Alex to drive me. He's very good at ferrying me around but I can't ask him to take me to church and pick me again up 6 days a week. We both go to Mass on Sundays of course even though Alex isn't a Catholic. So I've narrowed it down to the holy hour on Tuesdays and I try to go on one other weekday but I SO miss my daily visits. But hopefully I will be able to drive again soon and then I'll say with the psalm "I rejoiced when they said to me, let's go to God's house..."

Sad News

It seems our Latin Mass may not continue for much longer. Our beloved Fr Tom's eyesight is failing rapidly despite many prayers and he also has other health issues. There are various priests who could and would say the Latin Mass for us but our Bishops have made it clear they will not be given permission to do so. We're praying for a change of heart... God's Will be done.

A Test of Faith

A couple of days ago I was standing at the end of our drive talking to my daughter when the earth moved. Literally. It's terrifying feeling when the ground beneath your feet shakes from side to side and you can see trees tossing wildly and hear the house creak ominously. We clutched each other and my daughter was praying aloud "Please don't let this be a big one." Fortunately it wasn't. Inside our house only a few ornaments fell off shelves and only one was broken. Since the massive Christchurch quake we are much more scared of earthquakes than we used to be. Even going into a Church is a test of Faith now, as every Catholic church in this city has posted a warning on the doors that in the case of a moderate to serious earthquake the church could be seriously damaged and that one enters at one's own risk! I haven't noticed that the numbers at Mass have fallen - we Catholics are a tough breed. But I'm sure that many a fervent prayer is uttered as we go through the doors.

Christmas Past

At this time of the year with a large part of my family overseas I was remembering Christmas's past when my own children were young and also the many nativity plays I've put on either at church or at school. When our children were young we always acted out the nativity including the 3 kings. I remember when our youngest daughter desperate to play Mary, played her with great seriousness even though her right leg was in plaster! I remember my husband was always typcast as Herod because of his stong deep voice! At school my greatest delight was once persuading a boy to be an angel. After all, all the named angels - Michael and Gabriel- had male names. So for our brave boy angel we ditched the white robes and tinsel round the head and gave him a simple and manly angel costume of austere gold. He played the part with great seriousness and dignity and it was extremely moving. Another year I shall never forget, we picked a beautiful but rather highly strung girl for Mary; all went well until Joseph made a slight mistake and Mary picked up Baby Jesus, who fortunately that year was a doll, and hit him over head with it! There were also some very touching years... when a 7year old 'Mary' sat on the front of the stage with 'Jesus' in her arms and her eyes fixed on Him, sang in a gentle, sweet voice "Sleep Quietly my Jesus..." And mostly I remember we chose as 'Mary' a dear little 8 year old and a few days before the play was performed she was diagnosed with a serious and ultimately fatal disease. But she insisted on going ahead and played her part beautifully. Now it's just Alex and me and we do no acting but he loves to get the Bible out and asks me to read aloud for us both the greatest true story ever.

A REAL Christmas!

My eldest daughter and her family are spending Christmas in Vermont USA. For the first time in their lives they are seeing, and experiencing, snow - and they are loving it! To go out in the snow and choose and cut down their own Christmas tree is a magical experience for them and as my daughter said to me "Suddenly, In The Deep Midwinter makes sense". We DO miss out here in NZ where it's hot and the Christmas tree and its ornaments looks rather tawdry in our brilliant sunshine. Some people have put Christmas lights outside their homes but they don't show up until around 10pm! And yet...the wonder of the true Christmas is as real to us in our "Upside down Christmas" as it is anywhere in the world. We still welcome God's great mercy in sending His son into our world. And our Silent Night may be hot but it's still full of joy.

Advent Changes

Our Advent is a little different this year. Usually Alex makes an lovely advent wreath which we put on our prayer table and light as we say Grace before our evening meal. This year we have put larger candles on a wide front windowsill and made the advent wreath around them. We still pray and light the candle before our meal but then we leave it so it shines out in the darkness of the street all evening. We hope it will be a blessing to those who pass by and a reminder that what we are waiting for is the celebration of the time when He who is the true Light of World came into it.

A reason to rejoice.

Many, many years ago, I was walking past a Church door on a Saturday afternoon just as a friend came out. I greeted her and she said "Hang on a minute, I've just been to confession so I've just got to do a little dance!" and she literally danced in the middle of the footpath. I was reminded of this when my husband picked me up after the Latin Mass this morning. He remarked on how cheerful I seemed. I said "I've just been to confession! My sins have been forgiven!" It's amazing how going to confession is so freeing and so joy-giving! Thank you Lord.

The power of a name

"Of course" said my daughter "when you get down to the heart of it, it's all about Jesus." I always think of this when I hear the story of Mary Magdelen's encounter with Jesus after the resurection. She doesn't recognise him. Why should she? She's just seen him die a terrible death. Then, gently, he says her name "Mary" and she knows, she knows for absolutely certain, that it's him. No one else has ever has or ever will say her name as tenderly and as lovingly as he does. I have this wild hope that one day he will say my name like that and I'll know...it's him. No one will ever say my name like he will.

Deadness

"HIS ways are not our ways" I have often heard this said and I think it's from the Bible though I'm not sure where, but in the few weeks that have made up 2013 have certainly shown me how true it is. I began this year determined to "Rejoice" but the truth is, since then, I've spent little time rejoicing. We've had family issues, health issues, and simple spiritual dryness issues all of which have greatly challenged me The dryness is the worst; in fact I'd call it deadness rather than dryness. I've faced many challenges in my long life as we all do, but this is the worst spiritual challenge I've ever experienced. Mass leaves me cold and I find myself looking for excuses not to go, and even at our beloved Latin Mass last Sunday I thought "I don't think I'll bother coming all this way just for this Mass again"! I haven't said the rosary for days, I just can't find the time strangely enough. Yet I have not lost my faith in God at all, I just feel I can no longer be bothered. I said when I started this blog "In the shadow of His wings I sing for joy" well I'm still in the shadow of His wings, I know it, but the joy has gone. It must be His will for me at the moment...to walk faithfully without the joy. I must go through the motions even though I face inner resistance all the way. God is good.

Missing

I usually attend Mass most weekdays but due to family commitments this hasn't been possible for several weeks. Even worse, our beloved Fr Tom was ordered by the Bishop to take a holiday (and he certainly needed one) so there has been no Latin Mass since Christmas until he returned last week. Although I pray in the early mornings and, of course, go to the English Mass on Sundays, I feel as if I've been in a kind of spiritual wilderness. Next week we'll be back to normal and I can hardly wait. God is good!

The joyful ringing of bells.

We had a new Bishop about a year ago and he's brought about a change that I really love. He's allowing churches to ring their bells before Mass! Our former Bishop, very liberal and known in true irreverent Kiwi style as "Protestant Pete", forbade the ringing of Church bells. He said it would disturb the neighbours. But now, for a few minutes before Mass, the bells can be heard. It gives one such a spiritual uplift. And as an added blessing, at the Latin Mass the bells are also rung during the consecration! What a joy! Thank you God.

The Gift of Prayer

What a blessing prayer is. Yesterday we had some upsetting news about our dearly loved adult grandson E. living in the UK. His parents are being as supportive as they can be from NZ and are in constant touch with him. There seems very little Alex and I can do, and we could feel helpless, but we don't simply because ...we can pray. I went to Mass this morning to pray for him. The Mass had been cancelled but at least I could kneel before the Blessed Sacrament and implore our Blessed Lord to bless him and show him the way forward. What a gift for us and for E, that we can do this because we know Our Lord listens to, and answers, our prayers. I won't stop praying until he does!

Encourage!

I love reading the Bible and read it daily. I am reading the Letter to the Hebrews at the moment and I read this yesterday: "Encourage each other daily..." Wouldn't it be wonderful if we all did this? What a blessing if we all stopped criticising our fellow Catholics and encouraged each other! This is another thing I'm going to work on this year. Rejoice and encourage! Look out world!

Word for the New Year

I was sitting with my two lovely daughters and they began discussing their "Word for the Year". I can't remember what they had each chosen but I'm sure my eldest daughter, the Professor, chose something abstract and esoteric and that my youngest, the Journalist, chose something green and New Ageish. I said nothing although I knew what my word was. That morning I'd been praying about the new year and suddenly I thought "Rejoice". It may not be a very trendy word but it's mine and that's what I'm going to do this year- with God's help.

The First Thing

I don't know where this thought came from but it leapt unbidden into my mind one morning. It's not an original thought, or in any way a new one, in fact St Paul said something similar 2000 years ago, but coming as it did it had a transforming effect on me and it has taken several days for me to digest and treasure it. It was this: When I die Jesus is not going to ask me how many rosaries I've said (and I love the rosary) or if I went to a Latin Mass or even if I was faithful to Church teaching: no, He's going to ask me how much I have loved. He's going to want to know how much I loved Him and how much I loved others. To change St Pauls words: if I have attended a Latin Mass every Sunday and said a hundred rosaries a week it means nothing if I haven't loved. Praise God, deep prayerful thought assured me that I said my rosary and went to the Latin Mass BECAUSE I loved Him so much, but loving MUST come first. Please God I'll never forget this lesson.