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breath, Holiday, Labor Day, restful, safe, school, summer, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, wellbeing
It’s shockingly late as I turn to this task today (9:28AM in the Eastern part of the country). There is a gentle rain falling and quiet all around. It must be that something in me has already leaned in to a consciousness of Labor Day weekend. It seems illogical to call it the end of summer, since date-wise and temperature-wise we are far from finished with what we define as the summer season. It is, however, the moment when the school calendar resumes and takes precedence over every other way of marking the passage of time. With school back in session for youth of every age, we all fall into step with the round of activities that qualify as “work” – or labor, to be exact. So we should call this coming Monday NON-Labor Day and recognize the need for taking a breath in the work-a-day world, giving thanks for all those workers who contribute to our wellbeing.
May we all have a safe and restful weekend, and if we are the necessary workers who offer others the opportunity to celebrate this holiday, may we receive the gratitude of those we serve and know inner peace in our generosity.
The name Jeanne Jugan did not strike a chord of recognition in me, nor did the title Mother Marie of the Cross (Mere Marie de la Croix). I have, however, known since early adulthood of the work of The Little Sisters of the Poor, who had an established house not more than a few miles from my own Motherhouse outside of Albany, New York where I lived. We speak sometimes of “the hidden life” of Jesus – the years during his youth and young adulthood about which we have little or no information. It seems that St. Jeanne, as well as the Sisters who have come after her, lived most of her life in that manner while doing extraordinary work for the elderly poor. (see Saint of the Day at 
I’ve been engaged in a number of conversations lately where the topic has been the need to let go of what we can’t control – like the weather and the march of time (specifically our aging process). This morning I opened Meg Wheatley’s little book, Perseverance, to a page called “Life Is Life” and found there some words worth my time and reflection. Perhaps we can all benefit from her wisdom.
Today we speak of St. Augustine, the son of St. Monica for whose conversion she spent her life praying. (See yesterday’s post) Sometimes conversion is such a turnaround that one can only call the about-face a “fierce” change. (See 
Often a saint’s memorial in the Church calendar brings lots of diverse thoughts to mind. Today Christianity celebrates the feast of St. Monica whose son, St. Augustine of Hippo, had much more overt influence on Church practice than she did. Monica has special remembrance, however, in the lives of Christian mothers who trust God to hear their prayers for their children. Monica is remembered for her perseverance in prayer and thereby credited in large part with the conversion of her son. Clearly, the story of their lives is more complex than that and other influences on Augustine (e.g. St Ambrose) had a part to play. Nevertheless, Monica has been a friend of mothers down through the ages.
Having arrived home last night, I could not wait another day to take up this morning ritual. Rising from sleep in my very own room, I recall my sister-in-law asking my brother – in a ritual of their own – what song has awakened him. Today I have a lovely answer for this lovely day. It is the words of Jesuit James Quinn set to the tune of Morning Has Broken. As I throw open my window to welcome the sun and a sweet breeze, I hear within these lyrics:
I am going to be away from home this week and am unsure now of internet availability as well as scheduled events. I will return home next Sunday hoping to resume this daily practice on Monday. I leave with hope of a peaceful week for us all and a prayer of J. Philip Newell to accompany our days.
There are two lines in Paul’s letter to the Ephesians that do not necessarily seem connected but upon reflection can be, I think, a way forward in the spiritual life. Paul is preaching to the people of Ephesus about how best to live a good and wise life. (EPH 5:15-20). In the middle of this brief lesson he draws a conclusion, saying: “Therefore, do not continue in ignorance but try to understand the will of the Lord.” I see that as a call to responsibility to throw of any sort of “ho-hum” attitude and wake up to the very best we can be. What that will lead us to, it seems, is a clue hidden at the end of the text where he says, “giving thanks always and for everything.” In other words, it isn’t just the things that we recognize as good or happy that teach us important lessons, but also the difficult moments that can be some of the best lessons if we know how to find the deep meanings therein.
I was jarred into wakefulness this morning by a paragraph in Alan Cohen’s book, A Deep Breath of Life, that reminded me of something I believe about perspective. I trust that I have the power to choose the way I look at life. Here’s how Cohen described it.
It’s raining again. This week we have had a taste of the destruction that has been rare for us, caused by soaking rains and flash-flooding. It’s as if the earth cannot take any more pain. Having cried too long, her tears now overflow in a mud bath on the streets and structural damage to homes and other buildings near our two rivers and the many outlying creeks. Today the rain feels soft and my desire is to go outside and stand, then walk in it, to listen and accept what is happening, to be washed clean of all distress and the insidious doubt that can invade the soul at times like this.