Wednesday, August 19, 2009

What the Lord Wants

Discernment.

One word. A lifetime of prayer and progress. I wish I knew more about it.

I am at a time in my life when I am trying to "discern" more than ever. At 40 - and currently out of work - I really feel that I am at a true crossroads.

God is calling. But what does He want? I think I know. Or is that me talking?

Maybe discernment isn't a definitive moment in time. One where you can say, "Righ there! That's when God spoke to me."

Maybe it's a small smile. Walking a few steps in front with arms crossed - like a father when his child learns to walk or ride a bike.

He wants to see my dedication. My focus. Not on the "goal," but on Him. He needs to remain at the center of ALL things.

I read. I reflect. I pray.

There is no lighting, thunder, burning bush or e-mail.

Just a smile. A nod.

Just as a loving Father should.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

A Walk with the Spirit

This past Friday, I was working my shift at the Oregon Right to Life booth at the Washington County Fair. For those of you NOT in the Portland, Oregon area - last week was one of the hottest on record. I say this to set the scene for the following story.

When my shift was completed, I called my wife to have her come pick me up. We live about 3 1/2 miles from the fair grounds, so I wouldn't have to wait long. The only problem was that the garage door had broken and that she, the kids, and the cars were trapped. She tried to get some of our neighbors to come and get me... but none of them were home.

It was at this point that I began my walk home.

That alone wouldn't have been extremely tragic. The issue was that I was wearing flip-flops and pants... and the temp was still in the 90's.

My wife was worried. But I smiled. Now I get to pray.

Before I got a hundred yards, I pulled out my Rosary. I prayed it for the poor people who were working the Planned Parenthood booth just a stones-throw away from where we were stationed. By the time I had completed the Rosary, my flip-flopped feet began to ache.

Praise God! I thought. I'll offer up my suffering for those workers as well.

I took off my flip-flops and began to walk barefoot. I immediately thought of the feet of Christ. All the walking he did. How dirty they must have been. How they must have hurt a lot of the time.

I raised my arms as I walked. Praising and thanking God for all His great works. The sun. The air. The trees. I prayed for my friends and family. I asked for the intercession of EVERY saint I could think of. I thanked God for my enemies. For my wife. My children.

I just praised. I don't think I even asked for anything. I just praised God.

After an hour and 10 minutes of walking, I arrived home. I was beat and my feet hurt (and boy, were they dirty), but I was filled with the Holy Spirit. Once I stopped walking, I could barely move my legs. Yeah, I'm a little out of shape;-)

After my wife gave me a tall glass of ice water and a plate of ravioli, I moved over to the couch. My wife surprised my by washing my blackened feet. I cannot tell you how good it felt.

But what felt better than my feet was my spirit. God was with me on that walk - as He is with EVERY walk that ANY of us take. Never forget that.

God be praised in all things.