Project 365

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Originally uploaded by ADelamer03

Today is my 29th birthday. I know several of my friends have expressed consternation at turning 29, but it doesn't bother me. I figure 29 is the age everyone wants to go back to, so there must be something pretty good about it. And I have a few things planned this year that should make it memorable, to say the least.

Enter my new project. Inspired by the creative and wonderful Nicole, who can be found at www.threebysea.com, I am starting Project 365 -- A picture a day for an entire year. I have many things that I hope will come out of this project -- I hope to be more aware of my surroundings, I hope to be more inspired to write, I hope to find the discipline to do both of those things and blah blah blah. More than anything I think it will be cool to look back and see how the year unfolds. Sometimes I'll blog about the picture. Sometimes I won't. Follow along. Yell at me if you don't see something new. Sit back and enjoy the ride. I intend to.

Oh, and go visit Nicole at Three By Sea. And buy something! She's trying to make a living so she can stay home with her kid, people!

Why, hello there, 29. I hope you're all that I've wished for...

Advent Fail; Lenten Hope

Yes, friends, I know that Advent (and Christmas!) are both over, and Lent has yet to begin. We are, as the liturgically-minded well know, pretty much smack in the middle of the first Ordinary Time. Actually, this post is most fitting during this season, as Ordinary Time is a season of growth and hope of life in Christ.

Advent Fail.
Advent is a time of preparation and joyful anticipation. It is the season when we, as a Church, remember Israel's waiting and longing for a Messiah, just as we wait in joyful anticipation of the coming of Christ at the end of time. We hear in the readings that we are to be ready for redemption is at hand. We light the candles on the Advent wreath as a reminder that the Light of the World has overcome the darkness.

I was ready for redemption. End of suffering? Bring it! Stepping out of the darkness and into the light? I've got my sunscreen ready!

But Christmas came. And Christmas went. While it was happy, certainly, it was not the joyful celebration I had hoped it would be. The baby Jesus had been placed in the manger, but the joy of the Lord was not placed in my heart. The pain, suffering and sadness remained.

It wasn't until after the Advent wreath was put away, and the Christmas tree and creche packed up for another year that I realized what had gone so terribly wrong.

Christ did not fail to come. I did.

I was not preparing for Christ to come. I was preparing for my suffering to end. I was not joyfully anticipating the arrival of my Savior. I was joyfully anticipating the arrival of relief from pain and sadness, and even that anticipation was not so joyful, but nearly demanded. I was so preoccupied with my own condition, so caught up in the hurt that I was feeling, so engulfed in my own self that I nearly missed it.

Christ did not fail to appear. Surely, Christ is present in the world, during Advent, Christmas, and now.

I failed to recognize Christ's presence.

I was so preoccupied with the love I wanted, but didn't have, that I failed to recognize the love being poured over me. Christ is present in that love.

I was so concerned with the lack of peace in my family that I failed to recognize the peacefulness of the snow-blanketed earth and sleeping babies. Christ is present in that peace.

I was so longing for joy on my terms that I failed to recognize the joy of dinner with old friends, and of a child's awe-filled wonder at Christmas. Christ is present in that joy.

Christ is present in the world. Like the Magi, we must seek Him.

Today I had coffee with two wonderful, faith-filled women. At one point our conversation turned to the suffering in the world, suffering far greater than my pain in the neck and unrest in my family: The earthquake in Haiti. The loss of a child. The death of a grandparent. The suicide of a college student. Our discussion did not linger on the senselessness or intensity of these sufferings. Rather, it was a proclamation of gratitude for the gift of faith during times of suffering.

Suffering is senseless, she said, until you connect it to the Cross. It is by our faith, she noted, that we have hope despite our suffering. Even when we are experiencing Good Friday, we are promised Easter Sunday.

In three weeks, we will fill our parishes, receive our ashes, and go out into the world with the words, "Turn away from sin and be faithful to the Gospel" echoing in our ears. We will enter, with the Catechumenate, into the period of Purification and Englightenment. I'm actually looking forward to Lent this year. I hope to be purified and enlightened. I hope I can learn how to be graceful in suffering, because suffering is so often grace-filled, when we can see Christ present.

In the meantime, in Ordinary Time, I pray that I come to more fully recognize the love, peace, joy and hope of Christ present in the world.

When the Path is Deceptive...

You've all seen these road signs. The yellow ones with the curving arrow, accompanied by a speed limit to warn drivers to slow down before taking the exit ramp from the interstate. Perhaps you have had the experience, as I have, of thinking, "Enh. It doesn't look that bad. I can take this faster than 25 mph." And then, as you attempt the curve at 40 mph, you find yourself struggling for control. (Okay, maybe that's just my driving...)

That's kind of how life has been lately. I knew some things were coming, and it wasn't until I found myself careening into said circumstances that I realized just how difficult it was going to be. I'm still struggling to regain balance. As I read somewhere recently, I'm better than I was, but not quite so good as I was before I got worse.

It's been interesting to be in such a place during the season of Advent. Okay, really, it's been annoying at times... All this talk of waiting in anticipation, and redemption being at hand, and you suffer now, but the promise is coming. I really just want to say, "Enough already! Let's get on with the redemption!" But when the impatience subsides, it is good to be reminded that this is only temporary. We are promised Christ, the Messiah, and He has overcome the world! And this is what Advent is about... waiting, preparing, anticipating...

O Key of David and Scepter of the House of Israel; you open and no man closes; you close and no man opens. Come, and deliver from the chains of prison those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death.

Deep in the heart of Texas...

Oh, Texas. It's been a fast one. Quick overview to hit the highlights, with a more reflective blog in the process.

Monday -- Knowing I wouldn't have time at any other point in the week, I hit El Mercado for a specific purchase -- a gift that I'd been contemplating for awhile. Super excited about the gift. Spent the evening with the community. I love spending time with these amazing women.

Tuesday -- Three observations, a midterm and a little more community time.
I remembered how much middle school students make me laugh. Aware that I was there to observe their teacher, two of the seventh graders kept yelling "She's a really good teacher!" and "We learn a lot from her!" in the middle of class.

Two "tee-hee" stories from the Kindergarten. The letter of the day was B ("B says 'buh'!"), and the students were identifying words they know that begin with b. One student said barn. Their teacher asks the students if they could tell her what a barn is. One little guy, who was so excited he could hardly stay "criss-cross-applesauce," announced, "It's a place where animals live, and my mom bought the big barn on FarmVille last night!"

A little while later, during snack, a student who was seated at the table where I was working informed me that my "bracelet has brown beads. Buh-buh-buh!" The girl at the same table asked if she could see it. She then asked if I would take it off, so she could see it. I thought I was going to have to use force to get it out of her fingers. (I did not take it off.)

In Spanish class, I wondered when students in Texas were going to be able to use the phrase, "Hace frio," as it was in the nineties with high humidity each day this week. Today was particularly disgusting.

A few realizations from Wednesday. One, I think I like Texas because they have places named "Mamacita's" and "Bueno Taco!" We don't have that in Ohio. I also wondered if a place like Chipotle really does very well in Texas. Kind of seems like a sell out. Finally, I was rather disappointed by Austin. I don't know why I expected Austin to be different. Driving into Austin from 35 S is kind of like driving into Atlanta on 75 from the south. The hotels just get bigger and closer together, and then you're kind of like, "Oh, hey. I'm downtown. There's where the Longhorns play football." I expected Austin to be more like Cincinnati -- You come through the cut in the hill, and TA-DA! There's the city!

Wednesday was also the day that I stopped in New Braunfels to see Kristen, my friend from high school. We were nearly inseparable the last two years of high school, despite going to different schools. I'm not quite sure I know all of what came between us, but at this point, it's just best to say life took us in different directions. It was very cool to see her and spend some time catching up. What I thought would be a couple hours turned into like four, and I found myself driving back to San Antonio at one in the morning. Totally worth it.

Sooo... a word about rental cars. You really should figure out how to read the gas gauge before you get too close to empty. Because it's quite an adventure to find yourself on 35 in Texas, in the wee hours of the morning, and thinking, "Hmmm... I wonder why that is flashing. OH! That's the low gas indicator!... Crap. How long has that been flashing?" (Much to my relief, I found an open Exxon station, and I pretty much coasted up to the pump.)

The gas light fiasco was followed by turning on the car Thursday morning to find the Check Engine light on. It took Enterprise an hour to decide if I should just drive the car, or if they could find another compact car to bring me. (Apparently, even if the car they give you requires maintenance, they are not giving you a free upgrade for the day!) After an hour of calling back and forth, they told me to go ahead and drive, but provided me with a number "in case the car breaks down or stops running." Wow. That makes me feel spectacular.

Four volunteer fairs over two days -- with mixed results. I'm looking forward to following up with the potential Lalanners that I've met over the past few days. I'm especially loving the group of volunteer service program recruiters who are running the circuits. What a fabulous group of people! Super fun. I'm really looking forward to hanging out with them more next week.

Tonight was a particularly slow fair, and I was privileged to spend about an hour and a half talking to Hector from ACE about the spirituality of art, theological reflection in sketches, visio divina, and sacred art. Amazing conversation. We also talked about prayer forms, prayer journals, stories of saints that we love, icons, cool churches, and Catholic identity at the university level. He's an artist, teaches art, and is teaching a college level course on Theological Reflection through Art.

So I'm pretty sure I'm going to like this recruiting thing...

On Writing and Wandering...

On writing...
I recently read an article about using electronic media to connect to people. It was actually a work thing -- more about "branding" than about really connecting, but a line caught my attention. Basically, if you're going to blog, you have to be committed to it....

Oops.

The crazy thing is I've been writing.

• A paper about God revealed in the Gospel of John (A-, with no comments. Annoying.)
• Three sentence summaries on Gregory of Nyssa, Augustine's Confessions, and Gregory of Nazianzus
• All the copy for the new program brochure
• The FAQs section for the new Lalanne website (Check it: Lalanne. Hopefully the links will be fixed soon.)
• A whole new application
• A lesson plan for teaching lesson planning...

I've done some personal writing, too. A reflection on the Gospel from a few weeks ago -- Who do you say that I am? An email that was an attempt to explain some of the wild pitches that came up in life recently -- it ended up being so confusing, even to me, that I never sent it. A blog about drawing lessons that is perhaps one of the most beautiful things I've ever composed, and at the same time, contains so much of my heart that I'm fearful to let others read it. And a half-finished reflection on today's (mmmkay... after midnight. Yesterday's) Gospel about divorce, and my struggle to reconcile the message of that Gospel with my own life experience.

But this comment on being committed has nagged at me for a few weeks now.

And on wandering...

I am about to embark on a whirlwind recruiting adventure. Between now and the end of the month, I will visit something like 13 different college campuses in five states, all in the hopes of recruiting fabulous teachers who want to serve in under-resourced Catholic schools. And I'm sure many a marvelous and hysterical thing will occur as I gallivant about.

So this is my commitment. At least two posts a week while I'm off on the recruiting extravaganza. Let the adventure begin!

Sound bites.

Things I've heard and chewed on in the past week or so:

"The words were on their way, and when they arrived, she would hold them in her hands like the clouds, and she would wring them out like the rain." (The Book Thief by Markus Zusak)

"May we all be more Christ-like."

"I have often wished that all the people I love could all be in one place, but then I realized that the place I love may not be the place my loved ones love so I guess that wouldn't work." "Maybe that's your soul, longing for heaven. All of the people you love, in one place."

"And everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or fields, for my name's sake, will receive a hundredfold, and will inherit eternal life." (Mt. 19:29)

"God has been saying, 'I know you. I know what you need. And I've shown you in this way, and in this way, and in this way. Now I need you to trust me. Trust that I've put you where I want you, and be present in that.'" (Thanks, Em.)

"She's a trouble maker. That's her charism."

"As soon as I lie down, I fall peacefully asleep." (Ps. 4:9)

"There is a gigantic difference between earning a great deal of money and being rich." (Marlene Dietrich

"As a result of this, many of his disciples returned to their former way of life and no longer accompanied him. Jesus then said to the Twelve, "Do you also want to leave?" Simon Peter answered him, "Master, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and are convinced you are the Holy One of God." (Jn. 6:66-69)

**To those who provided these sound bytes, thank you for inspiring me, challenging me, and loving me. You make my life richer, and I am grateful.

peace at last

Last night, I ran into someone from my past. My connection to this woman is actually through her son, with whom I spent a fair amount of time during my last two years of high school. It has probably been seven or eight years since I last saw her. It took a minute, but when she recognized me, I was greeted by a huge hug, followed by the barrage of six million questions in about thirty seconds: Howareyou?wherehaveyoubeen?whathaveyoubeendoing?

Six years ago, this week, I left Ohio newly married. Twenty seven months ago, this week, I returned, newly divorced. In between, I lived in two states, had three jobs, took 15 hours worth of graduate courses, was fully initiated into the Catholic Church, met new people, made new friends, lost track of others. With all the life changes, I changed. I grew up, matured, lived life, got hurt, healed, forgave, walked away, realized fears and dreams, let go of old beliefs...

I've spent the last twenty seven months trying to figure out how to be the "new" me on "old" turf. I struggled, at times, to navigate between people who knew me "before," and those who met me "after." I couldn't quite figure out how the pieces of my life, so different and so important, fit together now. As a result, my typical reaction to the bombarding questions was to be vague.

I'm fine. Yes, I'm back from Florida. No, I'm not teaching. It has been a long time.

But last night -- for the first time -- as the questions rained down upon me, I didn't feel the need to avoid them. In fact, if we hadn't been standing in the middle of 50+ toddlers, all clean and shiny for a baby beauty contest, I probably would have said, "Grab a drink, and pull up a chair. Have I got some tales to tell you."