Monday, December 22, 2014

Blinded by the Light

“Last night as I was praying, I lifted my head up, as it was buried in my arms, and I was blinded by the light,” he remarked. “I know the lights were dim but when you are hidden in darkness even the slightest ray of light can be overwhelming.” He drew an analogy to our lives explaining that our moments of weakness and occasions of sin darken our will and intellect, which can make our encounter with Truth jarring. Even when it is a soft, warm glow, there is a slight averting of the eyes as there is a necessary adjustment to the Light.  

The same is true when the Christmas lights come out. Initially it’s a shock. Sometimes that's because it’s October 29th but that’s a soapbox moment I can save for another day. Even when it’s the right time and season, the lights that sparkle the darkness can be overwhelming if they aren’t received as they are intended. Let us pray that the same is not true of the miracle of Christmas. 

This week, as we prepare for Christmas, as we sit at the cradle, let us prepare our hearts to receive the Light who has abolished the darkness. Let us prepare to see Him as He is. I don’t know about you but I know I see better after receiving the gift and grace of Confession. If you haven’t been a while, maybe now’s the time. Seriously – look at your calendar to make room for this priceless gift. God longs to extend His mercy to us. Let us receive the gift of Himself and His forgiveness by returning and waiting with joyful hope so that we may see Him as He is – small and vulnerable, waiting like a gentle man, longing to be loved, dependent on the hands who will care for Him.

Let us proclaim with Mary our boundless yes to receive His infinite goodness, light, and Love and to love Him in all we encounter!

Verso l’alto,
Kathryn Grace

O Love, make a way come and find us
Search the darkness light the way come and guide us home

Jesus sought me when a stranger,
wandering from the fold of God;
he, to rescue me from danger,
interposed his precious blood.
O to grace how great a debtor
daily I'm constrained to be!
Let thy goodness, like a fetter,
bind my wandering heart to thee.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
prone to leave the God I love;
here's my heart, O take and seal it,
seal it for thy courts above.

**Scroll to find this song: NEVER ALONE***
My soul longs for love alone
So here I am never alone

Because Bruce is so close to getting it right  

Sunday, December 14, 2014

The Gift of God

"Yes, you don't belong to me," she cooed at the infant. "You are a gift from God on loan and someday you will return to Him. You are not mine," the new mother of three smiled at the infant who laid across her lap and the two toddlers who sat at the kitchen table. Maybe it was the grace and gift of adoption that gave her such clarity. 

Upon meeting a dear friend's mother,  I had thanked her and her husband for sharing their daughter with all those she blessed through her life as a religious sister. "You know when we left last time I spent a lot of time thinking about your comment. After some time, I realized she was never mine to give. She belongs to God," her mom remarked. I realized the understanding of gift is an integral element to parenthood. Moreover, it is an essential component in the life of a believer. 

As we approach the cradle, how have you prepared to receive the gift of Christ more fully this Christmas? Despair not, kids! We still have half of Advent to go. There is time to make room. There is an opportunity to wait with joyful hope. May we kneel at the manger this Christmas with joyful humility and boundless trust. Trusting the gift of Christ will satisfy the longings of our hearts. May you know the gift He is and the gift you are, made in His image and likeness, an unrepeatable miracle. Holy Spirit, guide us, shining bright. 

Fiat mihi, 
K. Coop 

​Venite! Venite! In Bethlehem ​

​That mourns in lovely exile here until the Son of God appear ​
​REJOICE! REJOICE! EMMANUEl. Shall come to thee O, Israel. ​

​There is just one thing I need​
All I want for Christmas is You

Sunday, December 7, 2014

The Mouthpiece


"We need to pray before we play" girls. 
Right - name of the father, son, and holy spirit. At which point, I went to say grace. 


"Ms. Cooper, I couldn't find the definition anywhere. I looked for a long time on a LOT of websites, even Catholic ones." 
"Did you try the text book?" 
"No, I didn't think about that one." 

"We're not going to be at basketball practice tomorrow. We need to go to the hairdresser." 
"I have nothing nice to say, so I can't say anything." 
{I have a feeling they will be at practice}

New rules implemented for the basketball team. 
I made these as an executive decision without checking with the head coach figuring he wouldn't have an issue with either of them: 
*You can not eat pizza or any food for the matter during a game on the bench 
*You can not make phone calls from the bench in the middle of a game 

Oh and the third rule resulted when our best player, in the middle of the game, leaned down the bench to ask what time it was. After asking if she had a hot date she said she needed to leave by 5:15. Okay not bad the game would be over by then. "Did you tell Mr. Flanagan you need to leave early?" No. "Okay so for future reference I'm going to ask that you never tell me in the middle of a game that you need to leave before it's over." 
"Oh no, Ms. Cooper I would never do that." "But, you just did" "Oh...yeah! That's a fair rule" 

Pierced by Goodness

Initially, I thought it was the combination of his icy blue eyes and chiseled jaw that pierced my heart. Upon further reflection, it was his goodness.

She’s depicted holding an infant; she’s portrayed cradling a crucified son. The child snuggled in her bosom is crowned with thorns. As he nestles against her, her heart is pierced.

He comes that we “might have life and have it in abundance” (Jn. 10:10). The Lord of hosts came as babe in a manger knowing he’d endure his crucifixion. He came to forgive us our sins and to offer us the Way to peace and joy in this life and the next. 

He came to incarnate Love so that we may be pierced by His goodness. 

Verso l’alto,
K. Coop

Did you know that your baby boy is heaven’s perfect Lamb?
That sleeping child you’re holding is the great I am.


Our finest gifts we bring
Pa-rum-pum-pum-pum
To lay before the King



I know You came to rescue me
This baby boy would grow to be
A man and one day die for me and you
My sins would drive the nails in You
That rugged cross was my cross, too
Still every breath You drew was Hallelujah
Hallelujah

Sunday, November 23, 2014

Star Studded

“Well, what do I do if I’m not answering emails or working or watching TV,” she asked. “No screens after 8 pm” is her new resolution. It reminds me of camping. The sun goes down and your options become limited in one sense and yet in another a new world of possibility opens itself that you don’t experience on a regular basis- star-gazing and bonfires, singing and smores to name a few. Taking advantage of the lack of plans and limited traveling ability due to nightfall, one can appreciate a diamond-studded sky. The stars are always there but because you’ve come out of your familiar location and the city lights are a far dim, now can see with greater clarity.

The great spiritual writers often speak of the desert – the physical and spiritual seasons of a seeming abyss, which stretch one’s trust in the provisions and Providence of God. Like the first time one goes camping or turns off the screen there is the obvious question that springs forth: “what do I do?” Over time and with a good guide, one comes to see and know the beauty of the seeming limitations of the wilderness, especially at night, is a mere cloak as it is really a gateway to the planetarium filled with starts of wonder.

Let us find joy in the stillness of the desert.

Verso l’alto,
KGRC


I want to feel, sunlight on my face
I see that dust cloud disappear without a trace I want to take shelter from the poison rain Where the streets have no name


I know that I don’t walk these streets alone
Your city lights are guiding me home


Through the fields and deserts they came
Messiah was worth every mile
Star of wonder, star of light
Star with royal beauty bright
Westward leading, still proceeding
Guide us to thy perfect light

Thursday, November 20, 2014

Dancing with Daddy

He stood on the outskirt with his sleepy four-year-old daughter in his arms. Her party dress was slightly crinkled. The bow was slipping down her head as her forehead was mopped with sweat, slicking her bangs down. She rested against his chest. A good day was complete. Though the other adults were just getting the party started, he swayed his partied out little girl to the music while holding her gently and strongly simultaneously. It was the essence of fatherhood and childhood. He held her; she rested.

There comes a time when you realize the man you’re going to love (and already do – even if you just haven’t met him yet) is going to love you and how he loves you is how he will love your children. You recognize the qualities you most likely will not catch at the bar nor do you stop at how well he can hit a jump shot (though it sure does grab one’s attention). It’s something we may not see by first impression and yet it’s the greatest gift you will give to one another – the gift of becoming parents – and the gift of your spouse to your children.

It’s an amazing reality to be privileged to become co-creators with Christ and it’s a tension to recognize the need to remain the Father’s children while simultaneously participating in the gift of parenthood (whether spiritual or physical).
I don’t know all the particulars of how to live this seemingly dichotomous reality. Yet, I imagine it’s like a dance – following and falling in love with the beat of the music.

Verso l’alto,
K. Grace


My personal favorite for dancing with Dad!
I won’t be afraid just as long as you stand by me

Tuesday, November 4, 2014

Boxing with Grace: The Coach's Corner

In some ways, it was an unexpected gift; in others, it was only a matter of time. I fell in love with heavybag boxing. Friday nights were reserved for the gym. It was the perfect combination of grace and strength and not just because I thought pearl earrings and boxing gloves were a necessary combination (not sure why the fashion magazines haven’t picked up on this one). There is an art to fighting. It is a delicate, powerful balance – one of strength and agility, finesse and power.  Muhammad Ali is famously quoted as saying “Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee. The hands can't hit what the eyes can't see.” There is a compendium of analogies, which can come from this seemingly simple quote and from my time in the proverbial ring. Today, I’d like to focus on the coaches’ corner.

“You’re a fighter, Coop. I’m asking you to fight.” He pled with tears streaming down his face. I had just thrown in the towel. I had announced I was leaving camp as it seemed as though it was no longer medically an option to work at camp. He was distraught; I was heartbroken. Years of hard work and sacrifice seemingly slipping down the drain. Hopes and aspirations plummeting like a balloon whose air has been let go. There were tears and pleas summarized by the frequent repetition, “it’s just not fair.” He gathered his breath and barely raised his eyes: “Please, fight,” he asked. “I’ll always be in your corner.”

When he asked me to fight, in part it was to convince me to reconsider giving up on a dream, which I was and still am passionate about. It wasn’t about figuring out how to work from NY for a job that was in NH (even though I did that). It was about hope. It was about fighting to be healthy. It was about struggling and striving to overcome difficult news from the doctors and to accept healthy even when it seemed like a plush notion that wasn’t going to be mine.

We pick who we let into our corner. We don’t decide who stays but we pick who we place there. We pick whom, in the intimate moments of our lives, we ask to coach and guide us to fight the good fight when we’d rather surrender. I’ve come to learn leaving camp wasn’t throwing in the towel. It was accepting the gift of now that God has in store for me in realities and ways I never would have imagined. Over the past few years I’ve changed coaches. I thought I knew whom I wanted in my corner. Turns out I had chosen people who couldn’t endure the fight I was being asked to fight. That’s okay.  By some seasons and reasons we come to recognize the mistakes we’ve made and by the grace of God, we grow past them and through them. As a wiser me looks at a younger me, I smile.  “You didn’t know what you didn’t know”.  A coach is one of the most important roles we will pick. Let us choose wisely.

Who’s in your corner? Make sure it’s someone whose got your back.

Verso l’alto,
KGRC



Baby the sun will rise
Baby the sun will rise
However long the night

No man is an island, we can be found
No man is an island, let your guard down
Please don't try to fight me, I am for you
We're not meant to live this life alone

Saturday, October 25, 2014

A Golf Shot

The ball was buried in the bunker. It was up close enough against the lip of the sand trap that I couldn’t place both feet in the bunker. My left foot was on the grass, my root foot in the sand. He said, “turn the club forward, close it down” Though the ball was enfolded in sand, I swung and popped the ball onto the green, leaving myself a putt for Par. “That was a golf shot,” he exclaimed. It’s one of the highest compliments I think anyone can receive on the golf course.  It’s my personal favorite.

Dad usually proclaims this affirmation after a “feel” shot - one that requires a seemingly effortless touch to obtain both the right speed and the right direction. (You might think that’s obviously the goal, what’s the big deal? Executing this combination is a hell of a lot harder than it looks). One of the things I love about a golf shot, besides the feeling of hitting the sweet spot, is that it exudes athleticism and ease while having a stack of knowledge behind the finesse.  It’s an acquired feel, usually earned after working through the unfeeling and wrong feeling of many previous attempts, coupled with the knowledge of the right weight and speed of how to best approach the shot.  

True on the golf course, the process of learning and pursuing excellence applies also to the spiritual life.
A repetition of virtuous action is necessary for us to strengthen our spiritual and moral muscles. We need to cultivate our response but also our disposition of receptivity.  Is prayer difficult for you? Feel like God doesn’t hear or that you can’t listen? It’s like any relationship. Communication gets easier with practice.  The other day Matthew Kelly subbed for me (via Itunes) and he spoke about starting out in prayer. He spent 10 minutes a day and in the beginning, he would sit in the Church planning his day. After a few weeks he moved to listing all he needed God to do, told Him to get busy, and he’d be back tomorrow. And then he had a decision to make and Matthew asked God what did He think he should do. He said that’s when things changed. It’s a relationship.

When I think about the beautiful gift of married love, especially amongst the old faithful, you can see they love with a “golf shot” kinda “feel” love. Not the Hallmark feelings kind of love but a love that is tried and true and instinctual. Do we strive to live this kind of love with God? When are you investing in your relationship with God today? For how long? Where will you pray? How will you pray/listen? Maybe it’s just setting time aside to list three things you are thankful for, maybe it’s a rosary without distractions, maybe it’s a commitment to going to Mass and or going to Confession before receiving the Eucharist if you previously missed Mass. Maybe it’s praying grace before meals.  Maybe it’s dusting off the Bible to hear His promises as a personal letter for YOU. Whatever it is - pick one. One place, one time, one way. And be open to the gift of change for “Our lives change when our habits change.”

One of the things about a feel shot is that there is a tempo kind of timing to it - controlled and steady. Let us consistently live lives of extraordinary generosity. Let us be thankful to God for all He has given and for the invitation to learn to hit the “feel shots” of moral and spiritual excellence. Let us be transformed by Love knowing anytime we give to the Lord it is returned exponentially as He desires our happiness and fulfillment more than we do. We can’t love who we don’t know and we can’t know if we don’t go - to Mass, Confession, the Bible, the classroom of silence. Let us go joyfully.

Verso l’alto,
Kathryn Grace

But I don’t worry ‘cause
Mama said there'll be days like this
There'll be days like this mama said
It takes a little time sometime
to get your feet back on the ground


Walk along the river, sweet lullaby, it just keeps on flowing,
It don’t worry ‘bout where it’s going, ,no, no
Don’t fly, mister blue bird, I’m just walking down the road,
Early morning sunshine tell me all I need to know