Recently my husband's father passed and we traveled to Oklahoma for the funeral. My husband had already been there a week and watched his father decline and finally, go to meet his Maker. I stayed at home with the kids running them to lessons and trying to keep the routine going. We prayed for him and worried from afar.
Once he was gone we quickly threw together our suitcases and got on the road. I was already tired and worried and a ten hour drive did not appeal to me in the least. But God blessed us through the prayers of many and the help of movies and audio tapes on the road which made the trip go faster.
Upon arrival we went to the farm and visited with family. Spirits were good and it was clear there was rejoicing at a life well lived. I was asked to lead the rosary at the wake. I nervously accepted, knowing this would be my first time to stand up in the church to lead anything. I prayed for strength and wisdom and grace. As I mounted the steps to the ambo, my heart boomed in my chest. I'd been feeling over-tired for a while and kneeling to the Host was excruciating and I wondered if I could get up on my own (arthritis).
I turned to face the crowd and was stunned for a moment. I didn't know what to expect but the church was almost full. In every row sat friends, family, neighbors and folks who had come to pray for Ray. I nervously began. My mother-in-law told me to speak up from the front row. As I continued the prayers a peace fell upon me and while my knees shook occasionally, my heart settled into the rhythm of the familiar words.
After the rosary I once again knelt before returning to my seat, hearing the cracking in my joints as I pulled myself up. Then folks began to come up to talk about Ray's life. The words still ring in my ears, how Ray spent his life focusing on people, not things; not money. When the harvest was due Ray would stop the machines to go to Mass because he knew what was important in the long run.
Much was said and while I can't remember the exact words, the meaning is stamped on my heart.
The next day at the funeral the priest was speaking and he looked upon the ocean of people filling the church and said that this was the largest funeral he'd seen at the parish since his coming there. It was standing room only. And I'll bet Ray knew the names of everyone in that building, first and last. They all knew him.
Later I began to think about his life and his death and I realized that he was truly a rare person, and I am blessed to be linked to his family. He did his best to set the example of how to live a life and his children have tried to do the same. But the world is changing and it tries to steal our children from us. Sometimes we do not see how the evil sneaks in and lives among us, filtering out our words of faith and replacing them with words the world says are more practical and make more sense.
Even with a man like Ray standing in the gap for his family, the world is snatching at our children and convincing them that Ray's world is gone and that no-one can live like that anymore.
I watched at the funeral as several of his grandchildren abstained from the Eucharist. The world they live in has told them that it's all nonsense; that there's more to life than accepting the words of a dusty old book and a boring weekly routine of rules and penalties. I wanted to cry. And I turned and looked at my own children and wondered what they would believe when they come of age.
The funeral was over and another day spent enjoying family, then we took to the highway once again. All the while we drove I was thinking about those beloved sitting in the pew watching as the rest of us consumed the Host.
Once home I realized this trip had cost us so much and as it was our fifth funeral in a year I decided we needed to cut back some expenses. I had been thinking of cutting these anyway but finally withdrawing the children from some of their lessons was hard; for me and for them. But I knew it was the thing we had to do for now. My mind also began to wonder if the doing of all these things was the thing allowing their minds to wander from the things of Heaven.
If you examine the lives of the saints, one thread seems common in all their stories. That is that they decide that the world and everything in it is a distraction from the things that are important. We say that we want our children to have every opportunity to do and achieve so we pay for ballet lessons and piano and so on. Yet what in ballet lessons and piano lessons leads them to Heaven? If I am honest, ballet has a number of things associated with it that I would never want my children exposed to. Granted, it is when they are older that these things become an issue; but if they fall in love with the art and want to continue when they are older, I will be to blame if I try to withdraw them from it at that point. How can I say it is okay for a while, then suddenly say it will lead to possible evils?
I think the thing with all arts is that they turn our focus from God to ourselves. And not just the arts but also sports and skills of any kind. Most saints had great skills, but they were the skills of Heaven: prayer, chastity, poverty, selflessness of all kinds. Our world makes us into demigods if we succeed well in the world and it sets us up as idols for others to worship. All one need do is look at Hollywood to see this, or Wall Street, or Washington D.C.
Saint Therese had her "little way" of living which led to Heaven. Her way is despised in our country. As I lie in bed feeling as though I am getting pneumonia once again (which I almost succumbed to several years ago), I feel afraid that I have not taught my children enough about the right way to live. Do they understand that money, power, and fame mean nothing? Do they understand that hard work, prayer, and service are the keys to Heaven?
As we find ourselves with more time on our hands I know that my daily goals must be to teach them this. I know the questions will start about when we can return to this or that lesson or class and I hope I am prepared with the best answers.
Mostly I hope I will never have to stand to take Eucharist and watch as they sit idly by, wondering why I do such a thing.
Once he was gone we quickly threw together our suitcases and got on the road. I was already tired and worried and a ten hour drive did not appeal to me in the least. But God blessed us through the prayers of many and the help of movies and audio tapes on the road which made the trip go faster.
Upon arrival we went to the farm and visited with family. Spirits were good and it was clear there was rejoicing at a life well lived. I was asked to lead the rosary at the wake. I nervously accepted, knowing this would be my first time to stand up in the church to lead anything. I prayed for strength and wisdom and grace. As I mounted the steps to the ambo, my heart boomed in my chest. I'd been feeling over-tired for a while and kneeling to the Host was excruciating and I wondered if I could get up on my own (arthritis).
I turned to face the crowd and was stunned for a moment. I didn't know what to expect but the church was almost full. In every row sat friends, family, neighbors and folks who had come to pray for Ray. I nervously began. My mother-in-law told me to speak up from the front row. As I continued the prayers a peace fell upon me and while my knees shook occasionally, my heart settled into the rhythm of the familiar words.
After the rosary I once again knelt before returning to my seat, hearing the cracking in my joints as I pulled myself up. Then folks began to come up to talk about Ray's life. The words still ring in my ears, how Ray spent his life focusing on people, not things; not money. When the harvest was due Ray would stop the machines to go to Mass because he knew what was important in the long run.
Much was said and while I can't remember the exact words, the meaning is stamped on my heart.
The next day at the funeral the priest was speaking and he looked upon the ocean of people filling the church and said that this was the largest funeral he'd seen at the parish since his coming there. It was standing room only. And I'll bet Ray knew the names of everyone in that building, first and last. They all knew him.
Later I began to think about his life and his death and I realized that he was truly a rare person, and I am blessed to be linked to his family. He did his best to set the example of how to live a life and his children have tried to do the same. But the world is changing and it tries to steal our children from us. Sometimes we do not see how the evil sneaks in and lives among us, filtering out our words of faith and replacing them with words the world says are more practical and make more sense.
Even with a man like Ray standing in the gap for his family, the world is snatching at our children and convincing them that Ray's world is gone and that no-one can live like that anymore.
I watched at the funeral as several of his grandchildren abstained from the Eucharist. The world they live in has told them that it's all nonsense; that there's more to life than accepting the words of a dusty old book and a boring weekly routine of rules and penalties. I wanted to cry. And I turned and looked at my own children and wondered what they would believe when they come of age.
The funeral was over and another day spent enjoying family, then we took to the highway once again. All the while we drove I was thinking about those beloved sitting in the pew watching as the rest of us consumed the Host.
Once home I realized this trip had cost us so much and as it was our fifth funeral in a year I decided we needed to cut back some expenses. I had been thinking of cutting these anyway but finally withdrawing the children from some of their lessons was hard; for me and for them. But I knew it was the thing we had to do for now. My mind also began to wonder if the doing of all these things was the thing allowing their minds to wander from the things of Heaven.
If you examine the lives of the saints, one thread seems common in all their stories. That is that they decide that the world and everything in it is a distraction from the things that are important. We say that we want our children to have every opportunity to do and achieve so we pay for ballet lessons and piano and so on. Yet what in ballet lessons and piano lessons leads them to Heaven? If I am honest, ballet has a number of things associated with it that I would never want my children exposed to. Granted, it is when they are older that these things become an issue; but if they fall in love with the art and want to continue when they are older, I will be to blame if I try to withdraw them from it at that point. How can I say it is okay for a while, then suddenly say it will lead to possible evils?
I think the thing with all arts is that they turn our focus from God to ourselves. And not just the arts but also sports and skills of any kind. Most saints had great skills, but they were the skills of Heaven: prayer, chastity, poverty, selflessness of all kinds. Our world makes us into demigods if we succeed well in the world and it sets us up as idols for others to worship. All one need do is look at Hollywood to see this, or Wall Street, or Washington D.C.
Saint Therese had her "little way" of living which led to Heaven. Her way is despised in our country. As I lie in bed feeling as though I am getting pneumonia once again (which I almost succumbed to several years ago), I feel afraid that I have not taught my children enough about the right way to live. Do they understand that money, power, and fame mean nothing? Do they understand that hard work, prayer, and service are the keys to Heaven?
As we find ourselves with more time on our hands I know that my daily goals must be to teach them this. I know the questions will start about when we can return to this or that lesson or class and I hope I am prepared with the best answers.
Mostly I hope I will never have to stand to take Eucharist and watch as they sit idly by, wondering why I do such a thing.
