Tidings of joy

"Snowflakes fall and decorate these ordered, pristine streets..."

I felt like I was in a movie, driving home last night, snowflakes falling softly on the warmly-lit streets, Christmas music floating out from my car speakers. I love it when my life feels like a movie. Of course, movies never show when you get home and have stacks of board books to page through because your NBSE came back with abysmal results. The thought of my schedule for the next 4 months (not including my glorious Mexican cruise) pretty much depresses me. At least the snow is still beautiful.

"Seems to me you could give the Man upstairs the same benefit of the doubt as you do an invisible fungus."

My favorite episode of Bones was on tonight. Christmas miracles for all. I just smiled through the whole thing...and laughed out loud...by myself...at the tv. Yup. So nerdy.

The Case of Joy

The difference between men and women: (actual quotes from a real live married couple)

Woman: What do you think about it? What do you think about when you think about it? What color is it when you think about it?
Man: I don't really think about it.

Woman: It was a difficult time, there was a lot of strain. We weren't talking as much.
Man: I didn't really notice anything different.

So funny. But in all seriousness, it was from a patient interview today with the parents of two girls (different families) with rare genetic diseases--beautiful, beautiful girls. I really believe that the heartache of knowing your child will not do all the things you always planned for her is balanced by the joy of such an innocent and pure life. I don't think it makes up for it completely, but I do think that all children are a gift, and was happy to see these families realize that.

It was our last PBL of forever. Very sad. We went out with a bang (in a culinary sense, not literally, like last time when Adam dented the ceiling with the champagne cork). I decided my family should have been Swedish so I could have spent my whole life making 7 kinds of cookies on the First Sunday of Advent like they do. Although maybe it's better to have the cookies and still get the Greek last name. We'll go with that.

Sunday musings

I haven't posted in a long time because I was waiting for something "worth writing about" to happen. Well, I have no one event or thought that has inspired a blog-length rant inside my head, but I do want to jot down a few thoughts. Expect this post to be fully random and fulfilling only for me.
*My first parade last night set the standard pretty high. I was one of the handlers for the 60-some-foot-tall Kermit balloon in the Parade of Lights. We got to wear sweet frog hats and had by far the hardest job of anyone in the parade (well, I mean, if you don't count those people throwing fire or playing lots of songs from memory). It was so fun to hear the crowd scream when Kermit "stood up" (after having to go under a traffic light), or when he did a nose dive into a tree and got caught (he was hard to control, okay?). The night was made all the better by the impromptu gathering at Laura B.'s house afterwards--what a great group of people. I love Denver.
*Got to chat with Bre today from Ecuador (well, she was talking from Ecuador; me from my living room). It was so good to hear her voice, and to talk about tons of things, and to get excited about seeing her at graduation in two weeks. Yay for lifelong friends.
*The beginning of Advent...I'm trying to open up my heart so that Jesus can fill it, but I find my heart is distracted by so many things, and that I get more excited waiting for the next "Bones" episode than for the coming of Christ (now, the coming of Christmas is another matter, because it brings the cruise, and that's easy to get excited for). But I decided that this year, I really want to try to focus on preparing my heart and reserving my heart for the coming of Love.
*At the same time, I do love Christmas music. Listening to "Love Has Come" pretty much made my week.
*Saw "August Rush" on Saturday. I really liked it a lot. I think it was a combination of the truly great music, my enjoyment of seeing Keri Russell and Jonathan Rhys Meyers on screen, my love of a happy ending, and again the great music. Sad story though, so many years of longing.
*Brunch with Marian Group today. Yay for cooking together and Christmas music and good food and fellowship.
*Good, good episodes of "House" and "Bones" to finish out the year.

If you haven't seen this yet...you're missing out. If you have, spread the word.

With Hope

A friend's father passed away last week, suddenly, at 62. I was blessed to be able to attend the wake, even though it broke my heart. I just can't think of any other words to describe the tragedy of losing someone so close. I just ached for my friend, not even able to comprehend how you get on without your dad when you're only 25, to know that he's not going to walk you down the aisle when you get married, to try to somehow make it through consoling all the people who supposedly came to console you. I just prayed so fervently, wondering how much I believed what I was saying, "Thank you, Lord for carrying them through this," wondering how even the strongest faith wouldn't crumble under a shock like that. And selfishly, at the same time, I prayed that no one close to me would be taken soon, because as much as I've grown in my faith, I don't know that I could deal with it. Sometimes I think what makes death so hard is that no one knows what to do or say, and we're too afraid of telling people what we really need because it might be asking too much, and it might hurt if they say no, so we end up all alone in a time when we most need each other. I'm not saying I know how to be there for people, but I wish people knew how to reach each other better. We're so good at getting along all by ourselves.

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth. The former heaven and the former earth had passed away, and the sea was no more...I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Behold, God's dwelling is with the human race. He will dwell with them and they will be his people and God himself will always be with them as their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there shall be no more death or mourning, wailing or pain, for the old order has passed away." The one who sat on the throne said, "Behold, I make all things new." -Rev. 21: 1-5

Also bella

For all their enthusiasm about Bella and future projects, the filmmakers maintain a sense of perspective. Mindful of Mother Teresa’s maxim about faithfulness and success, they regularly downplay the significance of the past or future successes. More than once, and by more than one party, the theoretical possibility of every print of Bella being destroyed and the film never being seen again was cited as a way of emphasizing that there are bigger issues than any one film.

Verástegui made the point this way. While preparing to shoot the film, he revealed, he made a fateful choice: to visit an abortion clinic as research for his role.

“I thought it was going to be very simple,” he said. “I was very naive. I thought I was going to arrive in the morning, with a few papers and a pen… Now, when I arrived that day, I forgot about the film. I was in shock when I saw all these fifteen, sixteen, seventeen-year-old young girls going in. Next thing I saw this little group of people outside, trying to convince them not to do it.”

Approaching the group, Verástegui found himself being asked to talk to a Latino couple who spoke no English. “I had no idea what I was going to say. I was very nervous,” he reported. Then the couple recognized him — from his soap opera roles. “They were from Mexico. Even though I did them ten years ago, they repeat them in television forever.”

Verástegui wound up talking to the couple for the better part of an hour, and gave the mother a miraculous medal. “We talked about life, faith, Mexico, dreams, about everything. I don’t even remember what I said. I gave her a little teddy bear. Next thing you know I said something and she was touched. And she leaves, and she didn’t go inside the clinic. So I told her the next day, ‘Hey, I’m here to help you, anything I can do to help you, if it’s money or whatever. Consider me your friend.’ ”

Shortly after that, Verástegui left for New York to shoot the film. “I came back a few months later,” he continued, “and I received a call. And it was this man who was with her. And he tells me, I have great news. My baby was born yesterday. And I want to ask your permission, because I want to call him Eduardo. And I couldn’t even talk, man.”

Verástegui went to the hospital to visit the couple and their new baby. “It was amazing. I went to the hospital and met the baby, and carried him in my arms — the way how he was looking at me, and I was calling him Eduardito, and I was singing, dancing with him. It changed my life completely. Because I didn’t plan to do that. I just thought I was going to do my research as an actor. I never thought that by the grace of God I was going be used as an instrument to say something to this young lady to touch her heart. And the next thing you know I’m dancing with Eduardito.

“If this film tomorrow disappears and it burns and nobody sees it again,” he concluded, “the fact that one baby is alive by the grace of God, I will rejoice in the Lord.”

From a Catholic World Report article...http://decentfilms.com/sections/articles/bella.html

Holiness

I often envision the saints as holy men and women so far beyond our reach, thinking, "Sure, I could be holy if I didn't have to do my chores and study all the time and worry about staying in touch with everyone and remembering to fill up my gas tank." We get the idea that they just prayed all the time and worked miracles and lived on a plane so far above us, that their example seems unattainable. This is why I am so struck by St. Gianna. Maybe it's because she lived recently, or because she was a pediatrician, or because her love letters are very human and very real, but whatever the reason, she seems more like a friend than an icon. But if we took time to look, the rest of the saints can be that for us as well. Imagine a young man, a future writer whose greatest work was to be inspired by the tragic death of his closest friend at a young age; he would spend many years writing and traveling. Imagine a girl who grew up in a wealthy home, an avid reader, fell in love, got married, and became a mother of five; her husband died at a young age, and she became a convert to Catholicism and a teacher until her death at 46. Imagine a soldier, captured by the enemy, but refusing to renounce his beliefs; he is tortured, left for dead, and nursed back to health by a local woman, only to be beaten to death once he continues his assignment. These, too, are saints--John, Elizabeth Ann Seton, Sebastian--who had at once very ordinary lives and extraordinary holiness. Why? Because they knew that God had called each of them to something different, but that he calls all of us to Him. They found their greatness, but it wasn't because they were superhuman; it was because they learned to live their daily, sometimes boring lives, with devotion and love. In Marian group, we're talking about finding our greatness. I haven't discovered the answer yet, but I don't think it's beyond any of us. Happy All Saints Day.