Reflections on the Prayer of St. Francis - Day Seven

Where there is sadness, joy.

Recently I lost my beloved Lady Guinevere, the Mommie to my other cats. In mourning her death, I found the following poem, which I now share with pet parents everywhere. I remember Gwinnie with love and joy for the 13 years she was with us. I’ll always love you, sweet Gwinnie.

 Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.

When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.

All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor. Those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent. His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together....
Author unknown.

Reflections on the Prayer of St. Francis - Day Six

Where there is darkness, light;

“However long the night, the dawn will break.” African proverb

“Faith is the bird that feels the light when the dawn is still dark.” Rabindranath Tagore

Today I remember the moments before dawn in late summer. When I first opened the curtains, it was dark – but still light, with stars twinkling and the moon shining in the northwest sky. Later, I took the dogs out, and while they frolicked in the yard, I breathed in the fresh, dewy, cool air. It smelled of lavender, roses, and apples. The light was barely showing on the eastern horizon. I loved that moment, too.

Light comes from dark. The most lucid, energetic days come from a night of sleep in the darkest room possible. Even the LED light of a clock can disrupt that wonderful, deep indigo experience of total relaxation. So I try to make sure that all or most light is gone in the bedroom when I finally rest my head on the pillow. Then my eyes close in blissful darkness and I dream: I dream of the plans I have set for tomorrow; the meditation music I have just heard; the wonderful things I have seen, heard, tasted, touched, and smelled that day. I begin to pray the rosary and before I can finish the first decade, I am fast asleep. I awake exactly on time the next morning, still in the dark, but with the bright light of dawn’s hopeful expectation.

Every New Year’s Day, we look forward in prayerful, thoughtful reverence and expectation. We should regard each day the same way. A toast to a new day!

Reflections on the Prayer of St. Francis - Day Five

Where there is despair, hope;

“Rainy days and Mondays always get me down.” The Carpenters

We all have rainy days. Sometimes they are truly rainy days, when our plans to take the family for a picnic are washed away by torrential thunderstorms. Sometimes they are tearful days, when the rain pours from our eyes as we mourn the loss of a special friend, or despair at the loss of a job.

Over the years, I have had so many rainy days, days when I believed life was pointless. I never questioned being alive, and never ever considered ending it; I just questioned the fairness of it all.

As an adolescent, I sat alone on the back wall, crying in despair over the lack of a date for the big dance. Nobody loves me. I’m so alone. I’m never going to have a boyfriend. If I just didn’t have this honkin’ pimple on my nose.

One Christmas, I was living near Baltimore, sick with the flu and unable to come home to my family. I sat alone in front of my little Christmas tree crying my eyes out. I’m missing Christmas dinner. Nobody cares enough to call me and check on me. I’m so cold, and I’m stuck here with my box of tissues and a barf bucket.

Another more recent day, I received yet another rejection email from a job opportunity. I’m never going to get out of this place. I’m over-qualified. I’m too young to retire, and if I did retire, what would I do with my life? Sit at home and watch soap operas? I went to the restroom to cry, and when I returned, I pounded my computer with a sponge bat.

Of course, hope always came through. I went to the big dance with my girlfriends, with a dab of makeup on my nose. The gifts that I opened that Christmas morning were truly special and heartfelt; my neighbor brought me a plate with turkey dinner; soon thereafter, I was able to return home for good. After the job rejection, I got a job as a technical writer, doing what I love to do, and what I want to be doing when I retire.

The Spanish word for hope and expectation is “Esperanza” (ess-per-AHN-zah), a very popular name for females in my culture.  With Faith and Charity, it is one of the three virtues. Businesses that serve the hopeless or downtrodden often take the name of Esperanza (Shelter, Church, Outreach Project…) There is always hope, always expectation for the best. Human nature tells us to expect rain, and then expect for the sun to come out from behind the clouds. New plants sprout up from the rain-drenched patch of dust. A rainbow shines in front of the rain drops.

Is it going to rain today? Probably not, but I expect that it will soon – wonderful, soaking, cleansing rain to nourish the plants that are preparing for winter sleep. I expect tears of joy to come from somewhere today. Life is so good.

Reflections on the Prayer of St. Francis - Day Four

Where there is doubt, faith

 “So do not throw away your confidence; it will be richly rewarded.” Hebrews 10:35

Joel Osteen once said, “You may have to go through a thousand no’s to get to that one yes. The key is, keep dreaming. Keep hoping. Keep taking steps of faith.”

It can be so hard to have to wait for a yes to come. When I wanted a new job, I kept sending out resumes, answering want ads, going for interviews. I began to doubt my worth and ability. Can’t they see how doggone good I am?

When I started my SparkPeople journey, it seemed I was starving myself, and the scale would barely move. People were posting these success stories and there I was – one stinkin’ pound lost. What difference would it make if I stopped at McDonald’s on my way to work? I doubted that it would matter.

When I started my fitness regimen, I could barely walk fifteen minutes at 2 mph without huffing and puffing and sweating, while the thin young thing in the hot pink Nike exercise outfit was effortlessly running on the treadmill next to me. It seemed pointless, and I began to doubt if I could ever be thin again after 30 years of eating and stressing myself into obesity.

Wait for it... Wait for it… Could I wait for it? Did I have enough faith and confidence in myself to reach a goal of 65 pounds weight loss AND a satisfying new job? Every time I began to have doubts, I “received” a message of hope and confidence. The scale would show two pounds loss. I would visit my rheumatologist and he would congratulate me on the terrific blood work. A co-worker would send me an email saying, “You look fabulous!”  Finally, I had to admit that the Spark had worked – I had to buy another two pairs of jeans that were six sizes smaller than when I began 15 months ago, and I added my old big jeans to the growing Goodwill pile.

Then I got a phone call from one of my customers asking if I would consider the writer-editor job he had available. Are you kidding me – of course! Hello confidence, hello future.

Yes! The Yes had come.

Reflections on the Prayer of St. Francis – Day Three

Where there is injury, pardon

“The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong.” Mahatma Gandhi

Every day, I was dreading going to work. I spent work breaks in the restroom, crying and asking myself how things got to this point. I was trying as hard as I could, and all of my customers and co-workers noticed the quality of my work. But I just could not please my supervisor. Every time I was called into the office, I was fearful and felt like I needed some special kind of armor. I felt so demoralized, so inadequate, so weak. My nightly meditations brought me into balance, but once I stepped into the office and my supervisor walked through on morning check-in, my self-confidence scale tilted way over and I could feel my well-being slip away. I had already conquered a serious illness and now I was well on my way to a healthy weight-loss – how could I heal from this constant, daily hurt? Was I injuring myself by returning to the toxic environment every day?

I have learned that good things and bad things never just happen – they are the result of a series of actions and circumstances that have been spun by the Universe over time. If I am in a negative situation, what positive situation preceded the negative, and what negative situation led to the positive one? In one of my nightly meditations and prayers last year, I asked God to clarify the sequence for me, so I could see what could come next and act accordingly. As I did every morning, I prayed for wisdom and discernment. Suddenly (or so it seemed), a new podcast came into my iPod, featuring the book “Start – Punch Fear in the Face, Escape Average and Do Work That Matters” by Jon Acuff. I read the book, and it helped me kick-start my movement out of that toxic situation toward a new job, doing what I love to do. I created a Spark goal for this purpose, tracked it, and the negative led to positive. The new job came into being and I left my old workplace.

Still, I was healing, and to truly move forward, I had to forgive myself, pardon myself so I could start fresh. My new job required me to travel for long periods, so that I could listen and contemplate self-awareness and self-forgiveness. I focused on life coach Martha Beck and the “I Am Meditations” of Dr. Wayne Dyer. “I Am Healthy.” “I Am Grateful.” “I Am Abundant.” “I Am Forgiven.” “I Am Strong.”

Reflections on the Prayer of St. Francis – Day Two

Where there is hatred, let me sow love

Almost ten years ago, I was hospitalized with a life-threatening disease. In the ensuing years, I began visualizing myself healthy, and I committed to praying and meditating each night before I go to sleep. I still do. Sleep research says that the last thoughts at night form one’s REM sleep and dreams, so I try to make my last thoughts positive and loving. I awake grateful that I can live each day with a family that loves me unconditionally (even my critter family); a roof over my head and food on my table; technology that makes life so much easier; I could go on and on. This is how I love myself and the world around me.

When someone or something makes me angry or rude, that goes against my loving intentions of gratitude and positivity. I read that if you become angry, and the anger last longer than 90 seconds, it is too deep to ignore. If someone cuts me off in traffic, or the computer freezes up, or I lose something important, or I have a disagreement with a loved one, how long does the anger last? More than 90 seconds? If I am still stewing about the hurt later in the hour or the day, I know that I have to fix it before I go to sleep that night. I find the solution to the computer problem, turn the search for the lost item over to St. Anthony (who always helps me find it eventually), or have a healing conversation with the loved one.

That night, my prayer and meditation becomes positive, and I sow the seeds of love into my sleep.