A New Year's resolution

Each New Year I look forward to a new beginning. I see it as an opportunity to let go of the past, and begin yet again. In my eagerness to make a fresh start, I always make resolutions. As the years past, I realize that many of my expectations are not just about me, but about others, and that sometimes I am unrealistic.

I have lived long enough to know that much of the stress we experience in our lives comes from  unrealistic expectations. We fail to look at the norm, at the conduct we or another person consistently demonstrates. We want more, and we want better. Often these desires have more to do with our own conduct and expectations and less to do with another. The problem is, such attitudes guarantee disappointment.

I wonder how many of our disappointments could be averted if we kept this in mind. I've often been reminded of my own "unrealistic expectations" of another, and have struggled to remember the person's usual conduct, and not to expect differently. This fact is not depressing; it is part of what it means to accept reality for what it is.

I think part of our unrealistic expectations come because we don't like living in an imperfect world. In a perfect world, yes, all would be thoughtful, sensitive, generous and kind. In a perfect world, no one would insult, slander, or offend. In a perfect world, I would not have to deal with my selfishness, my ego, my needs. But in reality, all these things that I struggle with affect me, affect others, cloud my vision and affect my altruism. I struggle even when I think I'm being my best. So do others.

This brings me back to the birth of Jesus. He embraced this imperfect world with its disappointments, its pain and sorrow, and its limitations. He did not come to change that. He came to demonstrate that an imperfect world need not deter me from following my dreams. He came that I might look beyond the pain and suffering of this life and find renewal in purpose. He came to show me the Way in an imperfect world.

I am determined this New Year to remember that. I am determined to focus on my dreams and accept my imperfect situation. I am going to focus on what I can be, not the imperfections all around me. Most of all, I am going look forward to opportunity.

I wish the same for you. Happy New Year!

A wish for you for 2012

Looking back over the year, I find it overwhelming to remember the natural disasters, the political stalemates, the deaths, tragedies and rebellions that took place just this past year. I need to remember that all of these incidents are an indication of something bigger: how resilient we are as a nation.

In light of this, perhaps the best words uttered this past year were words spoken by a dying man.

Have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become, said Steve Jobs at the commencement speech at Stanford.

Your heart and intuition.  Here is the place you can become influenced by the Spirit, and led to your destiny.

To hear your heart, to tune into your intuition, you need a certain amount of honesty and authenticity. You need silence and meditation. You need a certain jumping off point, a tragedy of sorts, a place where your own plan has failed, and you need to regroup and consider.

José Ortega writes: This is the simple truth – that to live is to feel oneself lost. Whoever accepts this has already begun to find herself, to be on firm ground. Instinctively, as do the shipwrecked, she will look around for something to which to cling, and that tragic, ruthless glace, absolutely sincere because it is a question of her salvation, will cause her to bring order to the chaos of her life….She who does not really feel herself lost, is without remission; that is to say, she never finds herself, never comes up against her own reality.

My wish for you in 2012: embrace feeling shipwrecked. You are about to find your heart, your intuition, and your dreams.

Discover the power

New Year is almost here, and many of us are making resolutions. I would like to suggest a resolution most will probably not think of: make time for Lectio Divina.

Lectio Divina is a medieval monastic custom, a form of reading, particularly, reading scripture. Duncan Robertson explains that the reader "tastes" the words of Scripture on the "palate" of the heart, or indeed literally in the mouth as he or she pronounces them; one has then to "chew" the text thoroughly and "digest" it, that is to say, proceed toward interpretation and personal appropriation. This formulation takes into account the affective, even visceral, responses that precede understanding, and eventually accompany and follow it. The reader, according to Cassian, should feel the "power" of the words, before attempting to grasp their meaning; understanding would come later...as a gift of the Spirit at some unguarded moment....

Think of that word power. If your reading of scripture is to memorize, you have not felt the power of the Words. If you read scripture simply to educate yourself, you will not understand its mystery. Even if you read scripture prayerfully, you will still not experience the power of these words. To do so, you must take time to let the words rest on the "palate" of your heart, and then "chew" them by repeating them over and over again. Remember the words of Robertson--understanding comes later, as a gift of the Spirit at some unguarded moment, like driving in your car, or waiting at the checkout counter, or even eating dinner.

Lectio offers me an opening to understanding, because it asks me to hold on to the Word for a greater length of time. I need to stay with that Word, treasure it from every angle, and gaze on it without needing to interpret. I repeat it not in an intellectual way, but in a visceral way, waiting for it to reveal its own mysteries to me. I wait, not forcing my understanding, but willing to carry that word until the Spirit descend into my soul with new meaning and understanding.

This is how I discover the Power of the Word. This is the change that transforms me.  When I learn to sit and wait, when I give the Word a new respect by holding it sacred, I prepare myself for revelation. That revelation is not for others, but for me, for my life with the Divine, for my own nourishment.

Herein is the Power. Herein is the transformation.

The year in review

Reading through a number of blogs that I follow, I noticed a common theme running through them all: sadness that Christmas is over, a old year is about to end, and winter is upon us. The blogs all reminded us that Jesus is the light, even when we feel in darkness. All in all, they were pretty much saying, get over it and remember the better days.

I do not like darkness any more than anyone else. But I do find that my concept of darkness has changed over the years. In fact, I find that darkness can sometimes be a time of peace and quiet, a time for inner growth and enlightenment. I used to fear darkness, and believe that when one truly loves God, one no longer experiences darkness. I no longer agree.

A sermon for Christmas by Abbot Paul mentioned how the most important events in the history of Judeo/Christian religion happened in darkness: the creation of the world, the birth of Jesus, and the death of Jesus. I think that thought is worth pondering a bit.

Perhaps darkness symbolizes our state of wonder, when we gaze up at the stars and moon and look for light. Perhaps darkness is our time of gestation, when we grow and nurture our soul before taking on a new battle in life.

Darkness need not be a fearful and dreaded thing. It can mean rest.

And so, looking back over the year, dark days should not discourage us. For great things can come from darkness if we let go of our fear and wait with hope.

I love this quote from Wisdom 18: 14-15: When peaceful silence lay over all, and night had run half of her swift course, your all-powerful word, O Lord, leaped down from heaven, from the royal throne.

Peaceful silence. We all practice silence at times, as a way to recharge, but also as a way to punish. We practice silence when we are in turmoil, or insulted, or simply too depressed to talk. But that is a mournful silence, an angry silence, a selfish silence.

Peaceful silence. It seems a prerequisite for the Word leaping down. It implies the ability to let go, to forgive, to face difficulties with tranquility. It speaks to my ability to balance my life so that what happens to me and my choice of response do not collide in conflict. It hints that difficulties are to be resolved through reflection, prayer, and acceptance. Not an easy action.

Peaceful silence. I'm reminded of the kind of silence that we experience during the stillness of night, or standing in falling snow, of while watching a glowing sunset. All these natural beauties happen in a special kind of silence, as though waiting for us to appreciate them.

Perhaps this is why the Word waits. In peaceful silence, waiting for us to appreciate him.

A New Year's resolution that gives life

I will never forget the service I attended last year, and the priest asked how many in the congregation had made New Year's resolutions. Two of us raised our hands. He chuckled and said, "So you'll still doing that," as if we were to be pitied. I sat there and thought, what?

I've heard it before. "Well, I never keep my New Year's resolution, so I've stopped making them." To me, nothing is more pitiable than that kind of attitude. Well, almost nothing. Because such words and sentiments come from those who have given up. Why resolve? You'll only break that resolution. So don't bother.

I think what bothers me the most is the why bother attitude. How can I continue to make progress as a person if I don't bother? How can I increase my attention, deepen my spirit, become more aware of the Divine if I don't bother? My journey is a active choice being made over and over again. I cannot sit on the sidelines and expect my life to deepen by itself.

I wonder if such attitudes come because many resolutions are only "corrective". I believe such resolutions stem from a deeper, hidden, self-loathing. Why, when we think of making things better, is our first thought to attack our own self, to alter it in some drastic form, to bash it or humiliate it or reform it? It's no wonder we get tired and burnt out with such resolutions.

Resolutions should enhance our person, not destroy it. If we have bad habits, they often stem from deeper conflicts, conflicts that are better addressed through meditation, reflection, and acceptance. It's amazing how such practices can open up the heart and help us to love the very one we have most difficulty loving: ourselves.

I encourage you, if you've given up on resolutions, to attempt a spiritual one this year, one more accepting and gentle on your soul. And if you are making resolutions, I urge you to cast aside the ones that attack your person, and instead opt for something that feeds your soul. In all of this, remember the words from John 3:16 For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten son, so that we might not perish, but have eternal life.

We need resolutions that give life.

What does Christmas mean to you?

Ever stop to analyze why Christmas is such a special season? No matter what your belief, there is a spirit in the air, a lightness in people's heart, and excitement. If only we took the time to contemplate what spawns such a spirit, maybe we could extend it a little longer, a few more weeks, a few months, even throughout the year.

I suspect that a great deal of the joy created at this time of year comes from our sense of oneness. Somehow, we manage to think of others more, and in so doing, we find that we are bound together more than we realize.

Perhaps that spirit, one of ties and family, come because during the season of Christmas we are more willing to let go, in order to celebrate. Filled with the spirit of Christmas, we tend to be more generous, more forgiving, and kinder.

 Who wouldn't want that spirit to continue?

Who wouldn't want a world at greater peace?

I believe it can and will continue throughout the year when we have made the child more than a seasonal celebration, when we know the child, the Divine Child, not on a friendly basis, but with a deep abiding love.

Then we will not wait for Christmas to speak to him again. We will do it on a daily basis.

And we will live with a spirit of Christmas in our hearts and souls.

Merry Christmas!

A Christmas Prayer

 

On Christmas we celebrate when the fullness of time came,

and we saw Divinity in a child,

poor, lonely, and vulnerable.

Yet the child brought hope,

by fulfilling promises made long ago,

of redemption and salvation.

The child came, not to receive glory,

but to give

light that shines in darkness.

Now the prophecy has been fulfilled:

he who is Wonderful, God counselor, prince of peace

is among us.

He has placed his hand upon the lion's head

and played before the adder's lair.

by giving meaning to our suffering.

For before the child was born,
blessings were the good things that happened to us,
and sufferings, God's punishments.

This child has turned the table,
and shown that all men and women, children and vulenrable adults
suffer and have pain.

Blessings come from remembering the child,
and the gift of life he gives,
a gift that overcomes all adversities.

This Christmas day, we return to remember,
God dwells here on earth,
within the simple and trusting heart.

May the Prince of Peace

bring that peace to each and every heart

this Christmas Day, and every day.

Amen

O Come Emmanuel!

Today, the last of the "O" antiphons are sung, O come Emmanuel!

Interesting in our novena, every single day we ask the messiah to come. The "O" antiphons are all about desire and longing. And yet, this last O antiphon actually tells us that God is with us, as that is the meaning of Emmanuel!

Revelation reaffirms that God already is here, dwelling with us. Rev. 21:3 says I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Behold, God's dwelling is with the human race. God will dwell with them and they will be God's people and God will always be with them as their God.

Maybe our cry should be, help us open heart and recognize that God is already within!

It is often our way, to ask for that which we already have, to seek elsewhere when it is here, to think we still need when we only need awaken and open our eyes.

So much of our Christmas in the United States revolves around gift giving. Not that that is bad. It just sets us in the mind that we need more, that we should be getting.

In the monastery, the focus is turned. Christmas is all about receiving, and the focus is on realizing the gift of grace, of peace, of God already within.

Let us come before the Infant Jesus this year and pray, not that he comes, but that we open and realize what we already have!

A true spirit of Christmas

O Morning Light!

I love the O Antiphon for today, which calls upon the Savior to come and enlighten "those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death."

It focuses on those "who sit in darkness". I think that is because, darkness is part and parcel of life. All of us share this journey. Sitting in darkness perhaps signifies the soul who can wait in faith without having to have answers, the soul patient and content to seek without having it now. Sitting in darkness may be the soul in meditation, one that allows the light to come slowly, as dawn that breaks slowly to begin a new day.

Dawn breaks the darkness of night. Jesus breaks the darkness of soul.

Sitting in darkness may be recognizing our state, and looking forward to the light of dawn.

O Dayspring, brightness of eternal Light and Sun of Justice; come and enlighten those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death. (Traditional "O" Antiphon)

O Root of Jesse

O Root of Jesse says the O Antiphon for today. A sign for the people, before whom Kings remain silent.

What message can we take from today’s O antiphon? While thinking of yesterday’s gospel, I felt attracted to the thought of going inward, seeking meaning, and using reflection to create depth to one’s life. Now, I can see that such thoughts mirror the concept of roots…for roots seek to go deep.

We are one week before Christmas. When I take a look around, I see lights, decorations, and demonstrations of the Season everywhere. I like that, for it puts me in a certain spirit, one filled with joy and hope and good feelings.

But I am coming to regard Christmas season as offering almost the opposite of what should govern our spiritual lives. Jesus came from out of mystery, as Romans 16:26 says: the revelation of the mystery kept secret for long ages but now manifested through the prophetic writings--made known to all nations...

But for me, I must retrace that journey, and to do so, I must go inward into mystery and find the revelation meant for me.

God does speak to me. But I have not trained myself to be aware of the Voice. I look for signs, for lights, for outward things to give me a feelings of warmth and joy.

I need to seek inward, in my own soul, for that same joy and warmth. I need to uncover the revelation waiting for my discovery.

Jesus born in a stable is celebrated once a year. I can celebrate the revelation of the Divine Being every day, in my inner sanctum, in my soul, in my roots.

O Root of Jesse, who stood as a sign for the people, before you kings shall remain silent, and to you the Gentiles shall make supplication: come to deliver us, and do not delay. (O Antiphon for Dec. 19th)



O Antiphons: O Adonai

O Adonai, and Leader of the house of Israel, you appeared to Moses in the flame of the burning bush and gave him the law on Sinai; come, and with an outstretched arm, redeem us!

Every year it happens, the mournful and hopeful chant of the O antiphons. Beginning on Dec. 17th, this most ancient of rites in the church begins the solemn novena for Christmas.

If you know the chant, I would encourage you to sing it yourself today. Or perhaps you could find a monastery where Vespers is still chanted in the ancient rite, and this will be sung.

Here is an explanation for today's antihpon:


Exodus 3:2: "An angel of the Lord appeared to him in fire flaming out of a bush.  As he looked on, he was surprised to see that the bush, though on fire, was not consumed".
 
Exodus 6:6: "Therefore say to the Israelites: I am Yahweh.  I will free you from the enforced labor of the Egyptians and will deliver you from their slavery.  I will rescue you by my outstretched arm and with mighty acts of judgment".
 
"Adonai" is Hebrew for "my Lord", and was substituted by devout Jews for the name "Yahweh", out of reverence.  With this second antiphon we progress from creation to the familiar story of God manifesting himself by name to Moses and giving his law to Israel as their way of life.  We are also reminded of the Israelites' deliverance from bondage under pharaoh - a foreshadowing of our own redemption from sin.  The image of God's arm outstretched in power to save his chosen people also brings to mind the later scene of Jesus with his arms outstretched for us on the cross.(From http://www.rc.net/wcc/antiph18.htm)

Monastic recipes for Christmas

With Christmas only a week away, I thought I'd share some of the Monastic recipes I've managed to get from various monasteries.

I have already posted these recipes at Examiner.com, so I will only post links here that will take you to those recipes.

I would love to hear your comment on these, as I have never made any of them myself.

Christmas Stolen (shared by Sr. M. Sacred Heart from Marbury monastery)

http://www.examiner.com/spiritual-perspectives-in-baltimore/a-monastic-recipe-christmas-stolen



Christmas Fruitcake (shared by Sr. M. Regina from the West Springfield monastery)

http://www.examiner.com/spiritual-perspectives-in-baltimore/monastic-recipe-christmas-fruitcake


Pumpkin Bread (shared by Sr. M. Sacred Heart from Marbury monastery)

http://www.examiner.com/spiritual-perspectives-in-baltimore/a-monastic-recipe-pumpkin-bread


St. Lucy braided bread (shared by Sr. M. Sacred Heart from Marbury monastery)

http://www.examiner.com/spiritual-perspectives-in-baltimore/a-monastic-recipe-st-lucy-braided-bread


If you make any of these recipes, please let us know your opinion. And if you know anyone who has a monastic recipe, please share with us!

The greatest gift

As I remember the past year, of the times of joy, the times of fear and stress, the times of success and confusion, I think of what a wonderful thing it is to have a friend who understands, listens, reaches out, and cares.

 In life, we can bear almost anything if we have a friend close at hand. For some reason, having at least one person to listen to us and care makes a difference. It doesn't take away any pain or lessen any sorrow. But in the great scheme of things, just having one person can make the difference between keeping faith and losing it.

As I listen to the many wonderful and beautiful Christmas carols, I think that maybe when Jesus came, he did not so much want us to see him as savior as he wanted us to see him as friend. If we think of him only as Savoir, we keep ourselves at a distance, and look at him as someone superior and above us, as John the Baptist did when he said, "I am not worthy to unloose his sandal strap." But if Jesus wanted us to see him only as Lord and Savior, would he have come this way, a small, helpless child? Who fears a child? Better yet, who feels inferior to a child? Does not a child draw us near, inviting us to view vulnerability in its purest form?

I believe that to be true Christians, we are to imitate Jesus as friend. We are to offer encouragement, to be the ear to listen and the heart to receive. I think back to the sermon given on the occasion of the young man lost in a tragic car accident. I had problems not only with the message, but with the voice conveying it, because I could not feel any empathy. The voice told the family how they should feel and how they would receive comfort. But I could not detect compassion.

When you go over your list of gifts, do not forget the best one you already give. Do not forget that for a friend, just the fact that you care, that you listen, that you receive without judgement and listen without giving answers, that is the biggest and best gift.  And no material gift can match it.

He did not presume to know

Have you ever met someone whose very demeanor spoke of self-importance? And has that person ever been a person of the cloth?

I ran into one today.  "Good morning, Father," I said in greeting. "Monsignor!" he immediately corrected, looking down at me disapprovingly. As he stood there, his nose and his chin elevated in an attitude of superiority, I almost laughed. So you're one of those I thought to myself.

The occasion was a funeral for a young man, 20 yrs old, who died tragically in a car accident. As I stood there and heard him go on and on and on about what he decided would be best for the family, and what would not be, I wanted to say, How dare you. How dare you presume to think you know! I disagreed with him. I lost someone that young in a similar accident just a little over a year ago. I was that grieving family.

When I reflected on the incident of today, it occurred to me that that is why Jesus came as a child, and was born in a stable. He didn't presume to know what it was like to be us, to be poor, or cold, or hungry, or betrayed or suffering or any other human emotion. He came to be us. In effect, he came to be humble.

Humility is a great virtue because in essence it says, I don't presume to know. In essence it says, I want to listen, I want to hear you, I want to learn.

Remember your dignity

Drawn by Mary Grace Thul, OP

How awful not to be recognized for who I am. And yet, it seems from history to be a common occurrence. In Matthew 17:10 we read about the disciples questioning Jesus about the prophecy that said Elijah must come before the Messiah. Jesus replied:  I tell you that Elijah has already come, and they did not recognize him but did to him whatever they pleased. (17:12).

We suffer when others do not recognize who we are. Worse, we suffer more when that person is our own self, when I do not recognize my own worth.

Empowerment  means breaking free from false conceptions, and the real enemy is ignorance of the dignity we carry within, a dignity that needs to be honored. Let us remember a phrase from Isaiah that says, On high I dwell--with the crushed and dejected in spirit. To revive the spirits of the dejected, to revive the hearts of the crushed (Isaiah 57:15).


The image we often disown and deny is the image of a wounded and vulnerable self, because we fear to appear needy. But that is the self that holds dignity and honor, the self that the Most High desires to dwell with.

Jesus was rejected because of his human stature. Those waiting for the Messiah were looking for something, someone different than Jesus. He was rejected because he was too human.

Let us not do the same to our own soul.

Knowing God in darkness and in light

Winter reminds us that fluctuations in life are part of the natural cycle. For us in the Northern Hemisphere it means shorter days and longer nights. It is nature providing us with proof of the usefulness of darkness and dormancy, and its power to prepare life even while all seems asleep.

To learn the truth of the words of Teresa of Avila, One knows God in oneself, and knows oneself in God, often requires us to journey through a night of darkness, a darkness that ultimately reveals. Perhaps we need darkness in our spiritual lives because we cannot bear the whole truth about ourselves in full light.  Perhaps in darkness we learn to look with different eyes, one that looks in rather than out. Perhaps darkness makes us stop to think, instead of rushing headlong into activity.

Whatever the reason, we know that darkness is part and parcel of a spiritual life. We know that darkness often illuminates our own sense of ourselves, so that we realize that helplessness, imperfection and our true unflattering selves are not a hindrance to loving God; only their denial is. And in that truth, we find we can leave the world of appearance and walk in the corridor of the inner sanctum. And there, darkness will be greater than light; we will accept our naked self; and powerlessness will not frighten us because we will know God, and in his Light we will see Light itself.

Surrender to God

Create a clean heart in me, O God, and renew in me an upright spirit we pray in psalm 51:12. The psalm is a cry from a heart of anguish, but one that knows all healing comes from God.

Augustine of Hippo makes note that we can wound ourselves, but we cannot heal ourselves. We can stab and wound our flesh whenever we want, but to heal it we look for a doctor; well, in the same way the soul is perfectly able to wound itself, but to heal the hurt it has caused, it implores the helping hand of God.

I have seen times when deep wounds make an individual angry at God, and that individual turns from God and seeks comfort elsewhere. I feel sad when I witness this, because I know that the individual is searching for comfort away from the true source of healing.

To be healed by God sometimes requires surrender. The more we clutch the hurt to ourselves, the greater the pain and anguish we feel. If we can surrender, if we can let go, we can spread our soul like eagle's wings, and fly above our pain.

Surrender implies many things. It may be accepting a situation without having the answers to my many questions. It may be letting go of guilt and and facing the reality of the human condition. Or it may mean realizing that God doesn't save me from death and disaster, but can help me find meaning in the pain.

Acceptance does not come easy. Some times we get comfort from staying angry with God. But we don't get healing. Sometimes we cannot let go of the pain. But clutching wounds only makes them fester. Sometimes it seems easier to stay in darkness than to turn toward light. But we shall never come out of our grief if we do not step forward.

If you know someone in pain and suffering, hold them in your heart and in your prayer. Hold them as you stand before the Divine Being. If they cannot seek comfort from the source, seek it for them.

Longings and expectations

Longing is the flame that sheds light

During Advent, we hear of a population, a race, a people crying out for a savior to come and save them. According to Scripture, these cries went on for over four thousand years. Come and save us, they cried out through the prophets, the priests, and the wandering people. Troubles often produce such longings.

Maybe Advent is a good time to reflect on our longings. Are we crying out and feeling unheard? If so, what does that mean? 

Not all who longed for the Savior recognized him when he came. He neither looked nor acted like the King they expected. And he did nothing to dispel their doubts except ask them to remember the prophecies of old and compare those prophecies to his life.

It is good to realize we may not always see straight, understand correctly, or desire truly. It is good to long, and to check our desires. It is good to see if we are receiving our desire, but just not recognizing it because it has not come in the package we want.

Be a messenger of hope

Words. They are only as important as we make them. If I do not hold to what I promise, my words are cheap and empty. If I mean what I say, then my words are true, and they hold respect and trust.

I think that is the meaning of Alfred Delp's words, let ourselves be comforting messengers. Hope grows through the one who is herself a person of the hope and the promise. We can only offer that which we hold true.

I think Advent is a time to take stock of my words and to honor my promises. To make sure I carry out what I say, regardless of its inconvenience, to be more authentic in my speech.

That is because Advent is about the Word. As the book of Wisdom says so eloquently, For while all things were in quiet silence, and the night was in the midst of her course, Thy almighty word leapt down from heaven from thy royal throne. (Wisdom 18:14-15)

That Word stayed true. It came for a purpose, and it accomplished that purpose. My words should be as sacred. I should do what I say, even if it is night and no one else is around to witness it. This is how I become a messenger of hope. This is how I further the promise.

Led from judgment to compassion

In my line of work, dealing with an individual is about looking past her actions and into her woundedness. It changes one's perspective, and keeps one looking at what wounds a person may be suffering from rather than why is a person is doing this or that. It leads one from making judgment to offering compassion.

I wonder if that is why Isaiah calls the Messiah the wounded healer, one who not only suffered, but kept his wounds visible for the disciples to see even after his resurrection. And Isaiah says, by his wounds we are healed (53:5). Healed from what? Perhaps we are healed from our judgments and our near sighted view of the human condition. Perhaps we are healed from looking at others in superficial ways instead of from the depth of one's own woundedness and compassion.

If I remember my own struggle, I will look upon someone else from that place, I will bring a lot more compassion into our world. Many people suffer silent, hidden wounds. They carry these wounds as burdens upon their heart. And when that burden becomes too heavy, they may lash out or cut me off. If I can look past that conduct to see a burdened heart, I could offer empathy and compassion. Perhaps I can not lift that person's burden. But at least I can refrain from adding to it.

In this Advent Season, we like to think of the joyful aspects of our faith. But let us never forget, we are all wounded, all vulnerable, all in need of compassion. The very reason the Savior came as an Infant and not as a full grown King was to draw out that compassion from our hearts. An Infant is very decidedly vulnerable.

Let that be the gift we offer this Christmas Season. Let our preparation be mindful of our own woundedness, and let that memory overflow in compassionate acts that bring some of that peace to others.