Retreat Reflection

I promise a weight loss post is coming in the next few days. First, I wanted to share a bit about the retreat I attended this past weekend with other Mercy Associates and a few Sister's of Mercy.

Of all the things I do with Mercy, retreat is one that is most important to me. It is a weekend of reflection and sharing, of getting to know myself and others, and a gentle reminder of why I am an Associate. This retreat was no different. I walked out feeling energized, humbled, and inspired- AND with total confidence that God is working hard in my life, and that He has been all along.

The retreat was made up of a couple different themes. We discussed Theresa of Avila and Catherine McAuley. We spent time discussing spiritual maturity, and how, as we grow and change as humans, so does our spirituality and relationship with God. We talked about the threads of our life, and how they stay with us throughout our life.

Personally, I was deeply impacted by the reflection questions we were given. Time for personal reflection is pretty standard on retreats. But I will say, that typically, when I am given quiet time on a retreat, I spend it outside, staring at the trees or the birds. Sometimes I pray, but it's rare that I actually think about the reflection questions I was given. This time was very different. I not only thought about each question, but I had so much energy flowing through every fiber of my body when reflecting that I couldn't keep up with my thoughts. I dug so deep, and truly felt God's presence right with me as I reflected and prayed- and WROTE.

Although I sometimes feel that spirituality and our relationship with God is private, I feel compelled to share with you a few of the things I wrote/took away from retreat.

• My experience with God in my life roots mostly from the love shared amongst my family. Perhaps that is my first concrete awareness of God: That God is love, and that my family loves me, and I love them. My childhood was filled with joyous, loving moments, and to this day my family remains my favorite people to be around. I feel blessed in this way, because I know that not everyone has this. But when I think of the presence of God in my childhood, I don't necessarily think of specific instances or "aha" moments. I just think of the love we shared as a family and the love that my parents have for us.
• I believe that my greatest moments with God are when He brings someone knew into my life. This started young with Christine and Amy. They were meant to be my friends. He continued to bring people that I needed- and all of these people taught me how to love in their own ways: Mrs. MacLennan. Alicia. Sam. Melinda. The Backups. Dean. Dave. Katie. Nate. Sr Mary Jo. Peggy. Tom. Emily. I could go on and on.
• God has ALWAYS been good to me, even when I am not good to myself. He protected me by surrounding me with an army. Perhaps THAT is my thread of life: love and relationships. Even if the people or faces change, the love is still there. 
• I suppose I have seen myself as a light for others. Maybe not a large, overpowering spotlight- maybe more of a flashlight. I seek people out when they need someone, and I help lead them out of their darkness. 
• When thinking of a symbol for myself, the first thing that comes to mind is a puzzle piece. I like to connect people- either to each other, or to new experiences. I believe we are all working together to survive this life, and I feel it's my duty to help get people where they need to go. 

During my time of reflection, I mostly thought of the times God has brought good to my life: either people or opportunities. But I also thought of the times He has been there when I was closed off from Him, When my dad was so sick, I don't remember ever actually praying. I cried a lot, I yelled, but I don't remember actually talking to God. Yet, somehow, I knew He was there. Again, maybe I knew He was there because our family was shown such love and kindness that I KNEW that was God. 

My point? God has been there for me in the good and the bad. He lives in me, and He lives in you. He brings us together for a purpose. This is what I believe, at least. And with that, I wrote this prayer:

Be still in the moments of joy, for that is God's work

Hold on in the moments of tragedy, for God will pull you through 

You are surrounded by God's love, through the faces and hands of others.

And just as you need them, they too, need you.

We are each pieces of God's puzzle, and we must connect both in the joy and in the tragedy.

We come together as one,

With God as our light.

In closing, I will leave you with the song "Flashlight" from Pitch Perfect 2. When I first heard it, I immediately linked it to Tom as a sweet love song. But now, after this retreat, I link it to God. This version is a cover of the song from Madison Lawrence. The song is originally by Jessie J.

My rock.

Last Tuesday was one of the worst days of my life. I got a phone call at 715 am from my dad telling me that the results from the MRI came in and they weren't good. They had found four lesions on his brain and he was being admitted to the hospital immediately. After hanging up the phone I burst into tears and began to shake. That was not the outcome we were expecting to get from his MRI. I quickly contacted my work, dropped stuff off at the office, and made my way to the hospital. That first day was a blur. Doctors and nurses were in and out, the word cancer was thrown around.

They did a full scan on my dad's body and found a mass on his lung, coming to the conclusion that he indeed had cancer, lung cancer that spread to the brain.

Shit.

He's a nonsmoker and a pretty healthy guy, so this diagnosis was a shock. A complete, ugly shock.

My family members and I have been in and out of the hospital ever since to visit him.  A prayer page has been started on Facebook. And tonight, a prayer service was held in his honor at the church. It
was a beautiful ceremony led by one of my best friends, Dean, and attended by many many friends and family members. My dad had even written a letter to the attendees that was read outloud.

One of the songs sung was "how can I keep from singing". It was a perfect choice. There was a line that really stuck out to me, though, and that was "no storm can shake my inmost calm, while to my Rock I'm clinging".

My dad is my rock. He is who I cling to. He's the rock of the family, giving us advice and challenging us. And when I cling to him or go to him for advice, I am calm. He calms me. He is my rock. He's my daddy. I don't know any man that is better or greater than him. He is gentle and sweet, funny and easy going. And I hate that such a special man has to go through this. He didn't do anything to you, cancer, so you can just leave him alone.

He's a fighter and is ready to fight this thing. He will have surgery Tuesday to take out the biggest lesion in his brain and the lung cancer will be treated with chemo and radiation. He's gonna kick cancers ass.

I love you dad and so does the entire community that surrounds us: our friends, the families at st Hugo, and our family.

We will beat this.

Praying In the Elevator

After receiving a positive response from my last short story, I decided to give it another go. Maybe I'll try to do this once a week, or at least once a month. We shall see. Thanks for reading. Here is the prompt:

Fiction writers: You’re stuck in an elevator with an intriguing stranger. Write this scene. 


I was trembling as I walked out of the doctor's office. My hands shook as I shuffled through my purse, desperate to find my cell phone and keys. I had to call my parents and tell them the news.

I have cancer.

I knew it. I had ignored the signs for months, but finally decided to suck it up and see my doctor. And on a sunny, spring day, I got the news.

I have cancer.

I decided I couldn't call my parents just then. I would have to do it in person. How would I ever find the strength, though? I couldn't possibly look them in the eye and tell them I was dying.

Right now, I just had to get out of this doctor's office. I finally found my keys, took a deep breath and stepped into the elevator.

In the corner of the elevator stood a teenage girl. She was wearing a Rolling Stones Tshirt and a black tutu with black leggings underneath. Her blue hair was up in a messy bun and her arms were swimming in elastic bracelets. As a high school teacher, I saw girls dress like this all the time. Some silly phase they went through, desperate for attention. The girl was crying, hysterically.

Pushing my own problems aside, I took a deep breath and put my hand on the girls shoulder.

"Is everything okay?", I asked.

She winced at my touch, gave me an evil glare, and plopped down on the floor. "Do I look okay, idiot?" she mumbled, plugging her headphones in.

My veins filled with rage. Here I was, after getting the worst news of my life, how dare this stranger give me an attitude?

The elevator made a loud, ear piercing screechy noise and suddenly came to a halt. The lights went out.

"Oh my god!" The girl screamed.

"You have GOT to be kidding me". I said, out loud, and then started laughing.

"Just what is so funny?" She asked, trying to intimidate me.

I ignored her question and then I, too, plopped to the ground, and tried to fish out my cell phone from my purse to call for help. No such luck. No service.

"I guess we're stuck" I suggested.

"Yeah; no shit, Sherlock" she mouthed back.

We were both quiet for a while, until I heard her sniffling and, when I looked over, I caught her wiping away tears.

"Look I know I'm just a stranger, but is there something I can help you with?" I asked.

"You can get me the hell out of this elevator" she replied, not looking me in the eye.

Brace yourself, Bridget, I thought. "Well, princess, I would love too. If I had some sort of magical power to make this thing move, I would. But sadly, I slept through that class at Hogwarts so I'm fresh out of ideas".

With that, she began to laugh. "Nice Harry Potter reference" she spat out, in between giggles.

"Glad you found it funny", I said, starting to giggle myself.

For the first time, the girl looked up at me, like she was just now seeing that I was not a threat. "I'm Jess", she squeaked out, smiling.

Jess' sudden shift in attitude led me to believe that she was just a sweet girl going through a phase, like many of my students. Her giggles were a welcomed change from the attitude she gave me just seconds before. I sure did not miss being a teenager and having those mood swings.

"Nice to meet you, Jess. My name is Bridget." I took out a pack of gummy bears from my purse and offered her some. Jess' eyes widened as she reached in and grabbed a handful.

We were quiet for a while, each of us chewing our gummy bears and looking down at the ground.

"I'm pregnant". Jess blurted out, and began to cry again. "I just found out. I'm only 14. My parents are going to kill me".

She told me the whole story. How her much older boyfriend, Kyle, was kind of a jerk and told her he was going to break up with her if she didn't have sex with him. That she suspected she was pregnant and confided in her best friend who then stopped speaking to her. It was a lot for a 14 year old, and now she had to worry about what her parents might say. They were "uber strict" according to Jess and she was panicking that they would throw her out of the house.

I suddenly felt heart broken for her. I reached over and put my arm around her skinny shoulders. "You're going to be okay", I kept saying, over and over.  And then, with a little bit of bravery, I asked her "Do you want me to pray with you?"

Jess stopped crying and looked up at me in shock. "No one's ever said something like that to me before....I don't really like, believe in that stuff." she said, skeptical.

I smiled and took her hands into mine. I asked God to sprinkle courage onto Jess so that she would have the strength to tell her parents the truth and to ask them for their support. I asked that her parents be open and patient. And finally, I asked that Jess and the baby remain healthy.

"Amen". We both said, in unison when the prayer was finished.

I didn't mean to say what I said next. Jess had dropped a bomb on me, it didn't mean I had to do the same thing. And yet, it just slipped out.

"I have cancer". I said, out loud, for the first time since I found out.

And then it was my turn to cry. I was sobbing, actually, and when Jess asked if I was scared I said "I'm scared to tell my parents".

In a very quiet voice, Jess suggested "Maybe we should pray for you, too, then". And she did. The baby carrying a baby took my hands and led us in a prayer asking for strength, courage, and healing.

As soon as our prayer was finished, the elevator jumped and the doors opened. Two maintenance men stood there, watching us. Jess and I grabbed our things and ran out to the parking lot.

Once we were out of the office building, I took Jess' hand and squeezed it tight. "Good luck, princess. I'll be praying for you".

Jess wrapped her arms tightly around my waist, sobbing hysterically. "Good luck, Bridget. I'll be praying for you, too. Please don't die".

"I'll try not too, but I may have to go back to Hogwarts to learn some real magic for that one".

It was strange, the bond I felt with that teenage girl, a stranger. After just a few minutes in the elevator, I felt a very strong connection to her. I watched her hop on her bike and take off down the road, and while I watched, I couldn't help but wonder if I would ever see her again.

11 months later, I was back at the doctor's office for my usual check up. My mom was with me, driving me to and from like she did all of my appointments. After this appointment we were going to look at wigs, since my hair was falling out quickly due to the chemo.

When we got in the elevator, I gasped as I saw Jess, holding a beautiful baby girl.

"Bridget!" Jess exclaimed, her smile taking over her whole face.

"Jess! Hey! You look so great!" And she did. Her once blue hair was now brown, and she was sporting a clean, fresh face. She ditched the punk outfit for a yellow sundress. "And she is just precious" I said, admiring the little one. "Does she have a name?"

A woman who had been standing next to Jess intervened "Same as yours. Bridget. Hi, I'm Jess' mom, Marie. Jess has not stopped talking about you since the day she met you in this elevator".

Jess spoke up, saying, "I can't believe we're running into you here. I didn't know how to find you so I keep praying that I will somehow see you again. This is so weird! It's like magic."

I put my arm around her and said "No, princess, it's like God."

Say A Little Prayer For You

This story happened a few weeks ago, but I decided to wait until after the A-Z challenge was over to share it on my blog. Enjoy.

 

It was just a normal day at work. I had music softly playing in the background while I tackled my To Do list one item at a time. But then my personal phone started buzzing. A co worker's name popped up on the screen. For a split second I though about not answering it. Not that I didn't love chatting with her, but I was in the middle of entering a report. But then I figured if she was calling my personal phone, something may be wrong.

I'm so glad I answered that call. On the other side of the line was my friend's voice. Shaken. Panicked. In Fear. A member of her family was in the middle of surgery and my friend was worried they weren't going to make it through. I could hear her voice cracking as she asked me to pray. She then admitted she's never asked anyone to pray for her before...but she didn't know what else to do.

After offering her as much comfort as I could, I hung up, took a deep breath, and prayed. And then looked online for "surgery" prayers, changed the words to one and sent it to her in an e-mail. I also asked two of my other coworkers, both spiritual people, to pray with me.

For the next hour or so I prayed for my friend and her family. An hour later, she sent me a message that her family member was out of surgery and doing okay. Relief.

I share this story to tell you that sometimes we need each other. And it's okay to ask for help, and for prayers. I keep thinking what if my friend had not called me? She would have let it stew inside her brain and her nerves would have been totally shot. But she felt comfortable enough coming to me and saying "I need help". I was proud of her. That takes courage. It's not always easy to reach out to your friends when you need them.

I take my role as a Christian pretty seriously. When someone asks me to pray for them, I do my very best to make it a point to actually pray for them. It's what we are called to do. And you don't even need someone to ASK. You know how sometimes, someone will just randomly come to your mind? Take that as an opportunity to pray for them, or send them positive vibes. They don't have to know that you did it...but you'll know. It's a reminder that we are all connected for a very special reason, and that our duty is to be here for one another.

I wish you all a very happy, blessed weekend. My best friend, a coworker and her best friend, and myself are headed to the Taylor Swift Concert tomorrow night. We are going all out, because, well, why not? So if you see 4 gals in their late 20's decked out in red and glitter, that's us.