A tale of two parishes...

My parish is presently involved in a situation that, sadly, many Catholic parishes find themselves involved in these days.

Due to the fact that fewer men are answering the call to become priests, parishes are being forced to merge together, or in even worse cases, small parishes are forced to simply close their doors because of the lack of priests available to lead these flocks.

Note that I said “fewer men are answering the call to become priests.” Be certain that God is not calling any fewer men to the priesthood. It’s simply that fewer men are hearing and answering the call. In today’s society, how can we expect anything to be any different, really? The lure of money, success, women, materialism, etc, is very strong and many young men who are being called to be priests are plugging up their ears to the concept of sacrificing all of these worldly things and themselves for the bride for Christ. We all do that to some degree, whether God is asking us to sacrifice of ourselves to become a servant as a priest or if He is asking us to go back to mass regularly, stop gossiping, start praying a rosary, stop drinking, really develop a deep relationship with Him, etc. I am as guilty of it as anyone else.

So my parish is in the process of being merged with another parish in the next town. My parish was a relatively young parish, as far as Catholic churches go. The church was built in the mid- to late-70s. The road to get to this merger was long and tedious. There was what they called a “collaborative study,” which consisted of lay representatives and the pastor of several churches in our “cluster” of the diocese. They met for over a year. The saddest thing is that this decision of who was merging with who was very likely made before the collaborative study ever began and much of it was a pointless, albeit frustrating, exercise for those involved.

As a result of this merger, which is still in process and should be completed over the summer, we lost our pastor (all of the parishes who had to merge did, so no one could claim favoritism). We loved our pastor. He has only been with us for 3 or 4 years, but had made us a holier, more orthodox, and more devout group of Catholics.

There are a lot of hard feelings all the way around. I don’t have any really, but I see it all around me. Some people want to leave the parish and go elsewhere. While I believe a person needs to be comfortable in their parish and go where they feel they will be fed, I personally have no intention of leaving my parish. I am “fed” by the Lord and his servants on earth in a variety of ways in a variety of places and not just in the masses at my parish.

Jesus is still in my parish 24 hours a day in the Blessed Sacrament. I still receive Him at every mass. So while some folks are watching the new pastor under a microscope and picking apart everything he does that is different from our previous pastor (hey, they aren't twins!), I can’t help but constantly remember that God will never be outdone. He willed this merger. And, and the end of the day it will “be for our welfare, not our woe.” While it may not seem that way right now, with time, it will be revealed to us, just like everything else.

A blessed holy week and glorious Easter to all of you!

Jermaine, where are you?

Have you ever had a friend who literally went missing?

Well, that's my Jermaine. Now, he goes missing regularly, so I don't want to make a huge fuss, but the trouble is, he usually resurfaces within less than a year and that has not happened this time. If I don't hear from him by my birthday at the end of the month, that's when my concerns will become very serious.

The last I knew, he and his brothers were moving. So, I have no phone number or address. The last time I heard from him was when he visited this blog for my birthday last year.

I don't think he even got to read the lovely open letter I posted to you for your birthday in August.

Jermaine, if you happen to see this, please make yourself known to me. I pray the Lord is blessing your life and keeping you safe.

I got tagged...

I got tagged for a meme by Trubador.

I don’t even know 6 other bloggers to tag next since I’m such a little “island” in my own little blogging world over here, but, I’ll at least do what I can do!

The rules for this meme: (1) Link to the person that tagged you. (2) Post the rules of the meme on your blog. (3) Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself. (4) Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs. (5) Let each random person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website.

My responses

(1) I am linked to Trubador!
(2) The rules of this meme are above.
(3) Here are the six random non-important facts about me:

1. I am a video game lover from way back. I have owned many different video game systems in my life. I think my father got me into them since he had no son—he used to take me to arcades when I was little. John and I used to go play Virtua Fighter (the original one!) when it very first came out at the student center back when he was the most important thing in my life. I owned a Sega Dreamcast during/after I was dating Eric. It’s weird that as I type this I link the video games to different men in my life. Hmmm. Maybe a psychologist could diagnose that.

2. I still speak to at least 3 people that I have known since kindergarten on a regular basis (Jarred, Caroline, and Omar). That’s a lot of years, people.

3. I am completely and utterly embarrassed to admit that Comcast On Demand and my DVR have changed by life—for the better!

4. It’s incredibly hard for me to even think of 6 things about me that everyone doesn’t already know since I’m such an open book and will tell anyone and everyone everything about me. Maybe the psychologist could also diagnose that.

5. I have prayed every night since I was 4 years old for patience (it was my mother’s idea for me to start doing so when I was 4—I can’t imagine how impatient I was back then, but I must have been for my mom to suggest I add the request to my nightly prayers at age 4). A million years later, and I still don’t have a lot of patience. God is still making up his mind on this one, I guess (or really, he wants me to “learn” patience is more like it!)

6. I literally never have nightmares. My dreams are never scary. My dreams are always really normal and realistic, like it’s an extension of my daily life. I hope that continues--no nightmares please!

OK, I have no one else to link to, so this extension of the meme dies here, I guess!

Big yellow taxi...

I am preparing for my “every other year” short vacation to see Omar in Florida. We have gotten off to a pretty rocky start this year, but, as I always say, a bad practice predicts a good game (at least that’s what I always hope!)

First, Omar had a business trip that was supposed to be a couple of weeks ago that got rescheduled. He flies home from New Mexico the day I arrive! Steve was going to pick me up from the airport in Omar’s absence. Then, Steve finds out that he has to conduct a training class the day I arrive and can’t come get me at all.

My options as presented to me by Omar were to take a cab or let Omar’s mom come pick me up at the airport. With all due respect, I preferred the idea of the cab much more than being alone with Omar’s mom for any length of time. Omar then tells me he would split the cost of the cab ride with me. Split? It just sounded odd to me that I think I would have rather him not have offered me any money than to offer to split it. I told him it wouldn’t be necessary.

So, here we are. I am going to be arriving via taxi to an empty home (except for Mario the dog) with a key under the mat. Although we will be getting off to a bit of an off-kilter start, I hold out sincere hope that once everyone is actually back in Florida and gets to the house from the airport that the rest of the visit will be relaxing and fun.

Wish us the best!

UPDATE: Omar e-mailed to say that he rescheduled his flight from NM to land only 90 minutes after mine on the day I arrive, so, as of now we are planning to share a cab back to their house. I guess we will split the cost after all! See? Things are already looking up. Good game!

Oh, and by the way, I meant to mention that a bird pooped on my forehead last Thursday. How it pooped on my forehead and not the top of my head is weird, especially since I had just received my Ash Wednesday ashes the night before. Isn't a bird pooping on you supposed to mean you're going to have a year of good luck? I'm not superstitious, but I would gladly take the good luck. Omar then reminded me that that day was the Chinese New Year, so he wondered if the bird was Chinese...

Delivering good news...

I had a wonderful surprise opportunity to let someone in this big blogging world know kind things were being said about him in a national newspaper.

Who doesn't like to be the bearer of happy news?

As some of you know, I subscribe to the National Catholic Register. It's a great weekly paper that keeps me well informed of the goings on of the Catholic church all over the country we well as the world. They had an article last week (it was part of an occasional series) on blogs (many Catholic blogs in particular) and one blog that was mentioned was by a gentleman in California named Trubador (Trubador--The Arbiter of Common Sense). They writer said it was a good mix of personal content along with other topics so I made a point to check it out.

I did so a few days later and I expected to see many comments from people saying they had read the article and that's how they stumbled on his blog, and so on (since I was a full week behind in my reading when I read my article myself). I found it odd that I saw no such comments, so I left one and who would have known that I got to be the lucky person to tell this kind man that he was mentioned in a national newpaper article?

Go visit Trubador and enjoy his content--he has good things to say about a wide variety of topics, not just Chuch-related, but also world-related and most importantly, "life"-related! You'll enjoy it!

An unlikely pen pal...

Justin's wife and I have been e-mailing each other a little bit lately. Do you know how surreal it is for me to say that? How did I wind up here? I don’t ask that question in a bad way, but in a way that makes me appreciate the way life moves.

As many of you know, Justin was the first boy I ever loved and it was a long time ago. For any of you who don’t know anything about him, I was 17 when I met him (he transferred to my high school). I stopped loving him “that way” when I was 20 or so. The last time I saw him was when I was 26, I think, not long before Eric and I started dating. When I was dating Eric (let’s say this was in 2000 or early 2001), I saw in the newspaper that Justin was getting married (he was still living down south, where he went to college). I was really happy for him and hoped he was marrying a good woman.

Fast forward several years to December 2005. I am at church in the sacristy before mass because I was going to serve as an Extraordinary Minister of Holy Communion that night. This woman walked in and asked me if I was me. I told her I was. She told me she was “Justin’s wife.” I asked her what her name was. She told me. She said she recognized me from pictures.

It does one's heart immeasurable good to know that they actually meant something to someone even if they no longer mean what they once did. I realized what it meant to me that he had kept his pictures of me somewhere, that he showed them to the woman that he married, that she knew who I was and what I had been. I am sure she heard both the good and the bad (there was plenty of both), but she had heard it all because I was someone who had mattered. Even all those years later, it could still be said that our knowing one another meant something (whether it be formative or whatever), and I was grateful to know it was so. We always hope that’s the case when a relationship ends, but how often can we say we know for sure?

She informed me at that time that Justin was in Iraq. I don’t think I even knew he had entered the Army (he was a bit of a late “vocation” to the Army in comparison to other men, I'd say). She said that her mother-in-law and her baby were in the church if I wanted to see them. I went and saw Justin’s mother for the first time in many years and laid eyes on Justin’s baby. When we were younger, I had always imagined in my mind’s eye what Justin’s babies would look like, and although this baby was precious, he didn’t “look” the way I thought he would. It was such a crazy experience. How many of us get to see the babies of the first boy we ever loved?

Justin’s wife was at my church that night because she was living with her in-laws while Justin was in Iraq and she was in the RCIA program at my parish (Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults) to enter the Roman Catholic Church. Months later, I was there with her at the Easter Vigil mass to watch this kind woman enter the Church. It was a great moment; I was her only friend or family in attendance. I felt very blessed that night--that the Lord had orchestrated this very unique union between her and I that Justin was completely absent from.

She once told a story of the way he reacted to something and said to me, “Well, you know him! You know exactly what I mean!” and I had such respect for her in that moment. Think about it. She was willing to admit and acknowledge the fact that someone else in the world also really “knew” her husband’s quirks and behaviors. I don’t know too many women with the confidence in herself and her relationship to freely admit out loud that another woman might know many of the things she knows about her husband (especially to that other woman directly!).

After she left our town and Justin returned from Iraq, she and I exchanged Christmas cards. I received the birth announcement for their second baby a year ago.

I didn’t hear from her this Christmas, and I recently asked my friend Terry from my parish (who helped teach RCIA) if she had heard from her. She passed my e-mail on and I heard from her immediately. They are well.

She reports that Justin is really succeeding in the military (he currently is a sergeant and is going to warrant officer school). I see pictures of him and I see that he actually looks like a 35-year-old man. I take time and realize that he is a completely different person than I once knew and that is OK, and in fact, a good thing. Then his wife mentions that he talks in his sleep and I realize he is likely also in many ways exactly the same as the boy I once loved all those years ago. It's emotional for me to try to wrap my brain around it all and how you have to sit sometimes and see that you are as old as you are and where did the time go and what have we done with all of this time?

Oh, and I wanted to say—I saw a picture of their second baby boy, who just turned 1, and let me tell you, he looks exactly the way I had always imagined Justin’s babies would look. Exactly.

Or, maybe, it is the best of the times?

Have you ever truly surprised yourself in the way you reacted to something?

My friend has been gone for over a week and I am ashamed to admit that I am not reacting in the way I imagined I would. I really amaze myself sometimes—and not because I’m amazing, but because I think I’m crazy. I had been crying for over a year at the mere possibility that he might leave someday and now that’s he’s actually gone I have to honestly admit that, if anything, I feel like the overall quality of my life has improved.

Why has it improved? My stress level has decreased. My outlook on things that I wouldn’t have even thought he would have affected has changed. It's weird, but I must admit I'd rather have it be this way than cry and miss someone who is starting off on a new life adventure not crying about me.

I still feel terrible that this is so. And also relieved.

I can’t explain it to you. I tried to explain it all to Wyndee last night after the kids were put to bed and we sat in her kitchen and talked. What I was saying made sense, but there’s one question that I don’t have the answer to. If he's slipped away without any action or reaction then what the heck was this all for? How do you invest in a person and love them and have them sometimes return that love and sometimes not return that love and then have them leave and you wind up breathing a sigh of relief even though there's a real possibility you will never lay eyes on them again?

This is one of the things that I don’t know the answer to right now and I don’t think I will know for a while. But, I am certain that one day, somehow, by God, it will be revealed it me what its purpose was, and what, in fact, it was all for.

The best of times, the worst of times

I once read a line in a book by T.H. White called the The Once and Future King that affected me very deeply. It was just one line in a very long book. I read it my senior year of high school when I was knee-deep in love with Justin.

The line was, “Perhaps we all give the best of our hearts uncritically, to those who hardly think about us in return.” That line resonated in me because it was true with Justin at that time (he would come to love me more completely years later, after I had stopped loving him “that way.” The timing of things in life can sometimes be cruel.)

This line resonates in me because at the end of the day it’s true of my friend who is going to be moving away shortly as well. I did my very best with him and always gave him my very best in every facet of our friendship. Sometimes it was cherished and appreciated other times it was unceremoniously thrown back in my face.

Will it be out of sight, out of mind, or do I occupy a slot on his short list of real friends?

I used to cry whenever I thought too much about his leaving, and that includes even up to almost a year ago before his leaving was even a possibility! I went to bed last night feeling one way and I woke up this morning feeling another. Sweet surrender.

I woke up this morning not dwelling on what might or might not happen when this one friend leaves, but instead I woke up truly knowing how loved I am by so many people that if this one character in the play of my life doesn’t have room for me or forgets me once geography separates us that that simply means I wasn't as important as I thought I was (or wanted to be) and I should recast the role.

I discussed a lot of these feelings on the phone with Mike Day yesterday after I had texted him to tell him I was feeling down and I got a text message from him this morning reminding me that he’s always here for me. I took time this morning to "out of the blue" thank Matty for how well he treats me all the time and that I appreciate how good he is to me all of the time. This is what matters in our lives.

It’s called reciprocity. I think I’ve cried my last tear. My friend who is leaving would tell me I’m full of it because he always listened to me blather on about this and that whenever I asked him to and he helped me answer questions and seek resolution in my life and he’s right that he did always listen and do those things. He did. But, given the cirumstances, he was also in a way "trapped" in my audience. What happens when he’s set free with many places to see and lots to do? Have I given the best of my heart uncritically to someone who, when push comes to shove, hardly thinks about me in return?

I hope not. I’ll let you know.

Operating from an excellent spirit...

A dear member of my parish family died in her sleep in December 23. She was only 60 years old (and looked like she was in her 40s, God love her!). She was one of those women in our parish who was a great example of what a servant of the Lord is. She was always around--praying in the adoration chapel for hours (and I mean hours), serving as an Extraordinary Minister at masses, smiling at everyone, praying for those she barely new, and so on.

I knew Gwen in passing, mostly from spending time sitting with her in the adoration chapel (although I am in there a mere blip of the time she used to be). She had the peace that comes with really knowing Jesus. I admired that in her--I manage to have it at times but at other times I lose it the second things go awry. She had it about her all of the time and I admired that constant peace that comes in really knowing what you know.

At her wake service, some of her friends and siblings spoke about her and one of her sisters said something that struck me very deeply. She said that her sister Gwen always "operated from an excellent spirit." I want that. I want it to someday be said of me that I operate from an excellent spirit.

Now if that isn't something that should be on everyone's list of new years resolutions, I don't know what is.

May this year be the year that we all begin to more completely and consistently operate from an excellent spirit.

Rest in peace Gwen--and pray for us that we will love, serve, and trust God like you did.

What kind of year will 2008 be?

As most of you know, Jarred started the tradition long ago of "naming" our years with a theme. It all started with the "Year of Jarred" (YOJ) and has taken off from there. I told you guys about this last year, for sure.

For the record, for the past decade or so, almost every "even" year winds up being a YOJ, so, yes, that makes 2008 a YOJ. Frankly, Jarred deserves a real YOJ after the debacle that occurred with his relocation/new job/layoff. I think I had one YOL, but really, I want every year to be a YOL for me!

2007 was the Year of Positivity (I think I decided that after we had the 2 years in a row of "Year of Joy"). I think we did a good job living that out, as we have all remained upbeat despite things not always going the way we might have imagined them to.

2008 has also been named the Year of Inspiration (are you guys able to keep up with all of this!?) because I told Jarred I wanted us to work harder at not only providing inspiration but gleaning inspiration from those around us.

We still have a little bit of time before January 1 for you all to think about what kind of year you want to have in 2008. You can name it and claim the way we like to (I'd love you to share them with me!), or you can do it more quietly.

Times seems to go by more quickly each year. The older I get, the faster time flies. I am trying to keep up (or "maintain" as Jermaine would say).

Whatever works for you and allows you to live with purpose. Here's to a wonderful, healthy, and peaceful 2008 for all of us!

A Merry Christmas to All...

I hope that I will have the opportunity to spend time with some of you over the upcoming holiday. Please come see my parents and I on Christmas Eve!

I have some nice time off coming up, but it's broken up into two batches--Dec 22-Dec 26 and then Dec 29-Jan1. I'll actually feel better about it being broken up so I can "catch up" on e-mails and everything the two days I am in the office next week and then I can start the new year off with a clean slate. I have always been very weird about that (starting the new year off "clean" in every sense of the word in my environment and with myself and my interactions). I think I posted about it this time last year.

What has me and most of my co-workers baffled is that our company gave us Monday, Dec 31 as a company holiday this year, but did not give us Monday, Dec 24. I guess they didn't want to be seen as favoring one religious group over another, perhaps.

I hope you all are well and will be able to spend time with those you love. May you and your families rejoice in the coming of the infant King! God bless you and love you!

Be careful what you wish for...

So I'm the lady who always wants out of town guests. I think about having people come in from out of town and that I'll take a couple days off from work and I'll take them places and show them things and we'll have a grand old time. Who these people are that are coming in from out of town, I have no idea, but it's still one of those things that crosses my mind more often than a normal person.

Judy from Rutgers is coming today and staying until tomorrow, and although I cannot wait, just having someone come and stay for one night has me in such a tizzy I have no idea how I would realistically cope with people staying for more than a night or two. I have been trying to get the house clean and in order for several days and still am not finished (and I am currently at the Honda dealer getting an oil change and then going to grocery shop all before Judy comes, so who knows when I am going to finish working on the house before she arrives). My downstairs is always in good shape because that's where my guests usually are and that's the part of the house the "public" sees, but I have Christmas gifts and decoration containers in the very guest room Judy will be sleeping in. Sigh.

I'm no fool though, believe me. I fully realize that if this is my greatest stress this weekend, I am blessed.

Have a great weekend!

The end of an era...

I received some very sad news a couple of weeks back. Mike Day sent me a text message to tell me that our favorite karaoke place (and, really, it was my only karaoke place), Cherries, had not only closed down, but was demolished. The reason for the demolition I am sure was because it was in the middle of nowhere with a lot of land around it. I’d imagine the land was sold and the building got lumped into the deal. Cherries was a bar/karaoke lounge and it was nestled inside a larger Japanese restaurant.

I forwarded the sad news on to about 10 friends who had sang there with us over the years. One woman responded especially mad that we only found out after that fact and that we weren’t given an opportunity to go there one last time for old time’s sake. I felt her pain.

I still remember the first song I ever sang at Cherries—it was an oldie called “Rescue Me” by Fontella Bass. That had to have been almost 10 years ago (yikes!).

Over the many years I brought many out-of-town guests to Cherries to sing (folks like LC, Jermaine, Steph, Ricky, Florin, Marcos) and coworkers (Janet, Bob, Matty T) in addition to local friends to Cherries to sing a song. We had also, for a period of time, truly become “regulars” there and we became friendly with the other regulars and the gal who tended the bar and programmed the karaoke machine. I feel nostalgia setting in.

Even though I haven’t been to Cherries in at least a year if not two, it’s still just sad to know it’s no longer there for me to come in, pay a dollar, and sing.

I think we often wind up feeling that way about people and places…we may not always see them or visit them, but we just feel better knowing they are out there for us when we need them.

Cherries, thanks for the memories--we will miss you!

Man overboard

For this past week I have been feeling very angry that Jarred got laid off. The company who hired him only 6 months ago laid him off last Friday (and that very day was his last day in the office, no phasing out or anything, he was just asked to leave right then) and announced the entire company is closing in December.

Jarred was hired with the title of Director of New Business (again, only 6 months ago). Was he hired as a potential last-hope savior of a sinking ship? Did this company think he was going to come in and in less than 6 months gather enough new business to single-handedly help them avoid closing their doors?

I just think things like that really stinks.

We could all be laid off at any given moment, myself included. I am not naive enough to not know that is a reality in today's working world. I just don’t like that Jarred was brought aboard a ship that was already sinking and then thrown overboard. Yuck.

Who is your nail technician?

I go get my nails done every two weeks on Saturday mornings and have been doing this for a very long time. Consecutively, the longest stretch has been the last 10 years. I keep my nails longer than most people do in 2007, and even though I do realize that long nails are no longer considered “in style,” I feel like long nails make my hands look more attractive than short nails do, so, I am willing to go against the grain on this one.

I have known the woman who does my nails (my "nail technician") this entire span of ten years. We get along great. She is a few years younger than my parents, but is single and very much a free spirit. She curses like there’s no tomorrow and says any and everything that’s on her mind without apology. Sometimes she thinks so fast that she’ll throw out a common phrase that’s not quite correct. For example, this past Saturday she was making mention that possession is nine-tenths of the law and instead she said that possession was “9%” of the law.

She adds something to my life that I just wouldn’t have otherwise. Our relationship is one that exists only two times a month for only about 90 minutes each time, but we always pick our conversations up right where they left off. We are very different in our lifestyles, beliefs, and so on, but we still manage to see eye to eye on a lot of things and still have a lot of respect for one another. Even though I only see her twice a month, over such a long span of time I feel like we have gotten to know one another pretty well.

I think people like my nail technician keep us grounded and keep us from getting too boring. If we only surround ourselves with one “type” of person we can’t stay relevant in the real world. Even if we don’t agree with everyone we know, it’s important to at least know what else and who else is out there trying to live in this world, and realize that at the end of the day, even if we are living really different types of lives, we ultimately want a lot of the same things and dream the same dreams.

Think about the people in your life who are your “nail technicians.” I'd like to hear about them.

Thoughts for Deacon Pat...

My friend, Deacon Pat (a man my age I met several years back who is now a mere 7 months away away from being ordained a priest!) e-mailed me while I was in Italy and asked me for some input about being a Catholic young adult in the world today.

I assume it's for a paper he may be working on for a class or the like, but he really didn't say. I e-mailed him some thoughts and thought I'd post them here as well. I've stated a lot of this here and there, but this is kind of me "in a nutshell" over these past several years.

As a Catholic young adult who is truly trying to live a wholly Catholic life (as best as I can, that is), I think my experience is much different from others in my age group who consider themselves Catholic and attend mass, but do not take their faith experience much further than that. For young adults that fall into that latter category, I doubt they would notice that they weren't being "supported" by the Church, ie, they wouldn't necessarily expect the homilies to speak to them, they wouldn't expect any programs or ministries for anyone other than the "old people," etc, so on some levels, I feel like a committed Catholic young adult has it harder than most because we actually KNOW we are SUPPOSED to expect more!

At my particular parish, I was blessed beyond measure for the past 3 years because of my pastor, Fr Pat, who is very orthodox and faithful. His homilies spoke to everyone, they were very easy to follow and they taught the truth of the Catholic church in a firm but loving way. I do believe that many priests today are sometimes timid about teaching the real truth of what the church teaches, and I think we all suffer as a result of not being fed the truth, no matter what out age group.

I ran a young adult group at my parish for about 2 years or so (it ended about 2-3 years ago now) and only one young adult from my parish ever came to it! Luckily, I did advertise at other parishes in my county and I had a few faithful folks come to join me on a regular basis, but we were a very small group and I found that even among that group they were mostly seeking out social interaction and only secondarily seeking a closer relationship with Christ or a deeper understanding of His word, but, I realize this is also very common among my age group and the social aspect is an important part of drawing people out to come to learn more about the faith, especially those who may not feel like they know very much about it.

In general, I do feel isolated in parish life. This is not the fault of the church or a parish directly. It's the fault of all of us, in that we have raised a generation of poorly catechized, secular young adults who no longer hold the Church or her teachings in a high regard. I can only thank God that I heard Him call me into a deeper relationship with Him when I did--I did not attend Catholic school, I was not catechized in any deep or complete fashion, and I was living a pretty secular life when He found me. Once I responded to Him, my life was never the same. I praise God it happened when I was a young adult, so I can spend the rest of my life trying to glorify Him! So, if being the youngest face in the room at events and having difficulty finding a like-minded man of my age group to share a life with are my current by-products of living a life in Christ, so be it. At the end of the day, I'm the happiest I have ever been!

Ciao Italia!

I just wanted my small group of loyal readers to know that I am back from my trip to Italy and now also back to work and back into the swing of my normal life!

We had a really great time. The weather was beautiful the entire time we were there and we saw so many awesome things. My knee held up like a champ. Actually, I am happy to say that by the end of the trip my ankle was completely back to normal and my knee was at about 85%. All of the walking and the stairs wound up being very rehabilitative, praise God.

Bad practice = Good game

I have always ascribed to the theory that a bad practice = a good game. Meaning that if your team is a mess at the last practice before a game, that you've worked out all the kinks and things will go great on game day. I also use the analogy for non-sport life events as well.

Let's definitely hope so in my case. For the few of you who haven't heard yet, here's my story:

I dislocated/"relocated" my knee on Saturday morning when I was leaving my house to go get my nails done. I fell outside the front door of my house on the landing. Luckily, as quickly as the knee popped out of the socket, I moved it and it popped right back in, but needless to say I did not go get my nails done!

It got worse as the day went on Saturday--it was at its worst Saturday night. But I woke up Sunday morning to solid improvement, praise Jesus, and it has gotten a little better each day since. I have been coming to work--I took a cab from the train station in Philly to my office the first two days, since the walk is a good hike, but I have been coming in earlier than usual and leaving earlier than usual, so when I leave the streets are not crowded, and I walk back to the train, just slowly! The walking actually helps keep it loose, but I don't want to overdo. I am doing better going up stairs, but going down stairs is still troublesome.

Please keep praying for the healing of my knee because everyone's prayers are defintely working. Where my knee is today from where it was Saturday night is nothing short of miraculous in my opinion. I just thank God that this happened when it did not this weekend, or, God forbid, the day before the trip. As it stands now, I think I will be back in business for clopping all around Italy--but I will definitelty still bring the Velco brace I have been wearing to Italy though, just for extra support!

He's a mind reader, for sure

So, in line with the number 10 thing that I was thinking about below, Mike Day called me and asked me to meet him for coffee after work this past Wednesday since he was seeing a doctor near where my office.

He must have sensed I was writing about him.

I let him know that this particular day was the first time I saw him this year as it seems he had not read the blog post below. He did try to split hairs by pointing out that he does think we bumped into one another on the street in very early 2007. Of course I let him know that even if that event did happen in 2007 (I could swear it was late 2006), an accidental bump does not count as "seeing" one another.

Truth be told, I have not attempted to see him yet this year either. It's weird. Maybe we can try for better these last few months of 2007.

Ten things I'm thinking about...

10. The fact that I haven’t seen Mike Day a single time in the year 2007. Who can believe this?

9. How nice it is that one of the women I supervise invited me to her 5-year anniversary lunch, which is today (the company gives the employees money to go to lunch on the milestone anniversaries—more money for more years—and she only asked 4 people to go to the lunch and she let her stinky boss be one of them).

8. The fact that I haven’t been able to meet up with Trish from Ohio and her family any of the times that they have been back in NJ since I went to visit them in Ohio in 2006.

7. How angry I still can get at my E after all of this time of knowing him when he just doesn’t care about ______ (fill in the blank with almost anything I care about!). How I still manage to be surprised, get angry, or care all boggles my mind.

6. How quickly that same anger disappears boggles my mind as well, although, in truth, I have never been any kind of really serious grudge holder, much less so in the recent years than ever.

5. How different my day is (for the better) when I get myself up and go to the gym in the morning. It never ceases to amaze me how much better I feel all day. I feel happier because I don’t have the monkey on my back of knowing I need to do some sort of exercise at night or feel guilty if I don’t do anything. It’s all over by 6:30 am and I am a free bird the rest of the day!

4. The same is true for when I go to mass during the week. Before we moved our office in April 2005, I was attending daily mass, well, almost daily! When we moved I never really got back into the habit. I have the Cathedral of Saints Peter and Paul nearby (beautiful!) so I have promised myself (and the Lord) I will go to mass at least one weekday per week. I will hopefully increase the number of days once I get back into this good habit.

3. How much I love my house. I have lived there for 10 years now and I simply love being there. It’s simple and comfortable and warm. I don’t want anything else other than what I have right now. I don’t need or want anything bigger. I am able to keep up with what I have and I think that’s one reason why I love it so much.

2. How quickly the summer has gone by and how much I am looking forward to Fall and all of things that Fall promises—cooler weather, turning leaves, football, pumpkins, sweaters, and so on.

1. The fact that a trip to Italy that was planned about almost 8 months ago is now less than 4 weeks away. I am starting to not only get excited, but to also crave the time away in a new place, taking a nice break from work and the day-to-day grind with four people I love. I can’t wait!