This is Joe realizing I've been photographing him! |
Just Writing Through
Sunday, January 7, 2024
Reflecting on loss ... Joe Kersten
Monday, December 18, 2023
Gaudete Sunday ... making peace with feeling joy in the trenches of life
Today is Gaudete Sunday – the third Sunday of Advent … the start of the week of joy.
As we lit the third candle in our Advent wreath, I felt a flood of overwhelming emotions.
At Mass today, I cried. It was as though all the difficult moments of my Advent – and, kind of, this entire year – came into focus as that third candle was lit… and, in that moment, I felt, well, not joy.
Usually, as we approach Christmas with the anticipation of the birth of Jesus, I am full of joy, but I have friends who are dealing with things. There is grief. There is illness. There is loneliness. There is fear. There is overwhelm. There is anxiety and stress and pain and unsettledness. There is darkness.
But then there is the lighting of the candles.
Sometimes, light feels so contradictory.
I see the Christmas lights all over. When the square was lit in front of hundreds of people, the excitement was palpable, but I felt a little loneliness. When I drove long routes at night, I saw gorgeous light displays, but I wasn’t feeling Christmasy. When we put up the tree, I felt unappreciative. Light usually draws me in and calms me, but the candle today felt harder. The flickering flame felt … unreliable. It felt somber. Yet, I was supposed to reflect on joy.
I’m usually the person who can walk the journey with someone to find the joy, but my heart had been burdened this month … perhaps all year. We have five friends anticipating major surgery in the next few weeks. A friend just passed away. There has been angst and stress and too much loss in my circle this year. And today, on the day we celebrate joy, my heart was too heavy. When our priest began his homily about challenges, and tears, and dryness in our spiritual life – and how God uses them to bring us closer to Him … I couldn’t stop the spilling of tears … I couldn’t prevent the overwhelm … You see, I knew … those words were being directed at me. And, there is joy in knowing that God’s plan is bigger than mine – and joy and all of those other hard emotions actually can live together side-by-side. We can all feel pain and sorrow and compassion for ourselves and for others, while at the same time being joyous this season. They are not mutually exclusive.
There is one more candle to light – and that is for love. Love of God. Love within families. Love between spouses. Love of children. Love of parents. And love between friends. I’ve been known to exchange, “I love yous” with some friends. They are usually the friends who are there when no one else wants to be. They are the ones who reach out if they haven’t heard from me in a while. They are the ones who, even after some dryness in our friendship, will pick up exactly where we were without batting an eyelash. They are my people. And I am theirs. And we have chosen to love like family. How amazing does it feel when someone chooses you – not for what you wear, or what your job is, or who you know, or what you can do, but for who you are?
So it is with God. There will always be periods of dryness in our faith life – it can be a little sand we need to sweep away or a boulder that presses heavy against our hearts. We can harbor resentment and choose to believe that God has abandoned us, or we can continue to press on … as He relentlessly pursues us. And we can find joy in knowing that we are His people.
When joy is pure, it can coexist with grief, sorrow, pain, anxiety, fear, challenge, and so many more. Joy leads us to that fourth candle... love.
So, I choose to hold fast to the love. Because, in the end, despite loss, despite grief, despite hurt or pain or anxiety, it is love that binds us together.
And now, these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love ~ 1 Corinthians 13:13
Monday, September 11, 2023
A moment frozen in time....
Monday, May 29, 2023
Memorial Day means carrying on the stories that keep legacies alive
Friday, April 28, 2023
It's Planting Season
It is planting season here in the Midwest. Ten years ago, I might have never thought about it, but, now, I feel like I’m immersed in agriculture.
Why?
I write for a local paper – which has led to a busy freelance career. But it has been writing for the local paper that has instilled in me a love of farm fields and pastures.
Through that I’ve come to meet so many wonderful people who are living a life that many of us may never experience. Through their stories, I have learned to appreciate the challenging but rewarding life of a farming family.
I don’t want to downplay the hard work that farmers put in day after day – they are out in the field planting, monitoring, testing, and ensuring that the crops are thriving … every. single. day. They study the most efficient way to plant. They treat their seeds to help protect them as they grow. They work on equipment, plan for the season, and spend countless hours in the fields between planting and harvest time. It is often-times grueling and stressful work. Their income is decided by that hard work and planning, but it is also at the mercy of nature.
I want to be very clear that I recognize the challenges and hardships woven into this lifestyle, because I have a tendency to over-idealize it.
One thing I admire about the farm families that I know is how close-knit they are. They are bound like the rows of seeds – relying upon one another. They are the sun and the soil and the rain for one another. No one is ever planted on sandy ground – they are rooted in the love of family and friends, and, often, grounded in the heart of faith.
I’ve watched as farmwives deliver meals to their husbands in the middle of a farm field. I’ve witnessed the care with which husbands treat their wives – so appreciative of the sacrifices they make and the steadfast strength they provide. I’ve seen children learn the value of hard work and know the joy of raising an animal or watching a corn stalk grow from a seed they planted. I’ve listened to the stories of adversity, and I’ve heard the stories of legacy farms with rich histories. Most importantly to me, I’ve seen many a farmer spend Sundays at church – even when they could be out harvesting or planting – because they thank God for the harvest and they thank God for the land, animals, and crops that He provides.
So when a farm friend of mine mentioned a Rogation Day at a Lutheran church in the area, my research-driven brain kicked in.As it turns out, the Catholic Church long celebrated Rogation Days as an opportunity to bless the fields that are about to be or are already planted – and to ask God for His mercy over all creation.
Beginning in the year 598 A.D., part of the day would include a procession over fields and ploughed land. It was met with fasting and litanies as the community would ask for God’s blessing and mercy for clement weather and crop deliverance from destruction and concluded with Mass.
While the practice has fallen to the wayside, I recently found some beautiful prayers in Kendra Tierney’s Catholic All Year Prayer Companion for The Major Rogation Day celebrated on April 25th.
I love this prayer for a Sprouting Seed
To you, O Lord, we cry and pray: Bless this sprouting seed, strengthen it in the gentle movement of soft winds, refresh it with the dew of Heaven, and let it grow to full maturity for the good of the body and soul. Amen.
How beautiful is this?! You could use it with your toddler as you plant a seed and water it, anticipating its bloom. You could use it when you start your herb garden. You can use it as you plant your farm field sprinkling seed across the many acres.
But I think it is more universal than that. We have souls waiting to sprout. As we travel on this journey, our souls grow, learn, and yearn for purity of heart. We are tiny seeds in God’s beautiful farm field. As we begin to germinate and eventually to bloom with all the radiance of spring, we are sometimes tossed in the wind – sometimes we are shaken so hard that it takes some extra support to straighten us up once again, but sometimes we find courage in the gentle breeze as it tenderly guides us in the direction we need to grow. As God’s mercy washes over us like dew, we begin to take solid root … and we thrive. As we do, we support those around us, and our purpose becomes clear. We are perfectly created -- unique in His farmfield.
I encourage everyone to embrace the growing season. When you find the solid ground on which you are to plant your roots, do so firmly knowing that, despite drought, despite clouds, despite the cold, you will flourish – because God has placed you on that solid ground and He will give you what you need.