Be a Shero

Happy Mother's Day, friend!
Shero - a woman who inspires you. A woman who has poured into your life, helping you become the woman God created you to be.
Though an unofficial definition perhaps not found in the Webster Dictionary, today is a day we celebrate each and every Shero in our lives: mothers, birth and adoptive mothers, foster mom's, godmothers, spiritual mentors, aunts and grandma's, sisters and friends. 
This Mother's Day is for all women, because each of us is a Shero; rare, unique, and irreplaceable.
The Shero's in my life are varied and many. My Aunt Carolyn, a Catholic school teacher turned prosecutor. She was bold and unafraid to share her opinion and rock the boat. Married later in life and unable to have children of her own, she became a second mom to my siblings and I.
My own mom Sheila (though we call her SheShe). A prayer warrior and hospice nurse, she is still one of my best friends and biggest cheerleaders in my life.
My spiritual director, Dr. Cooney. My academic advisor and professor in graduate school, she has walked with me through the pain of a divorce, dating/relationships, and the loss of my dad. Her voice is a loving but firm tone that brings me peace and clarity.
A band of beautiful friendships that I thank God everyday for: Christina, Helena, Sarah, Beth, Mary Catherine, MC, Alanna, and so many more (not even including the many friendships born out of social media connections).
This weekend our country celebrates Mother's Day.
While a day filled with love and celebration, this day can also be filled with pain and sorrow for many of us. Perhaps your mom has left this earth or you have an estranged relationship with your mom. Maybe your heart is breaking because of the infertility you experience or the desire for marriage and babies has not yet happened in your life. Maybe as a woman you feel hurt or abandoned by the church or your spiritual community.

Read the rest over at Wisdom's Dwelling ...

(Learn more about Wisdom's Dwelling and sign up to receive their email devotions here).

Just Like Me.

Take some deep breaths.
Notice the inhalation exhalation of your breath.

As you are able, bring someone into our mind that you have difficulty relating to.
Maybe they have opposing ideas or philosophies.
Maybe they are simple unkind.

Using all the wisdom you have acquired through your experiences, imagine gazing into this person's eyes with an open heart and an open mind.
Without trying to change them in any way, say to yourself...

This person is incarnated in a body. Just like me.
This person was once a child. Just like me.
This person has known joy in their life. Just like me.
This person has known sorrow. Just like me.
This person has loved someone. Just like me.
This person has had their heart broken. Just like me.
This person has experienced confusion and uncertainty. Just like me.
This person has tried and failed. Just like me.
This person needs forgiveness. Just like me.
This person wants to be loved. Just like me.
This person wants to be happy. Just like me.
See them now as part of your experience as a human being and say to them,

May you be happy and free. I wish for you strength, peace, and liberation in your human life.
Notice how this changes how you hold this person...and how you hold yourself.

Try this practice with different people. We can even use this practice when we become impatient or annoyed by a complete stranger...Just like me.


(This meditation was written by Brian W, a co-worker from another ministry market. Our team used it in a recent retreat, and since then I have been thinking a lot about it. I hope it blesses you as it has blessed me.)
Peace, friends!

Gone but Healed.

It was a cool October night I was driving home from an evening work meeting.
I was feeling excited because that Saturday I would be going on a double date with my older cousin Mike and his wife Lisa, along with the man I was dating at the time.
I remember the exact red light where my car was stopped when the thought hit me.

Even though Dad is gone, our relationship is more whole and healed than it ever was when he was alive. He is physically gone from life but I feel closer to him now more than ever.

I burst into tears, feeling overwhelmed by a deep sense of something that I would continue to lean into in the coming weeks.
I was very blessed to have an overall very healthy and loving family of origin. My parents, while imperfect, did their very best and gave my two siblings and I a stable home and loving childhood.
As I grew up, and began my own healing journey, I saw one of the area's that suffered was my emotional relationship with my dad. 
As a sensitive, tender little girl, I often felt my dad was not emotionally available to me or minimized my emotions and feelings. The father wound in my little Patty heart was probably one of the area's I most needed inner healing and growth.
Looking back it affected many things: how I saw myself, my own codependency, and even my choice in men - in a particular way the man I married. What I really needed from my dad was not often emotionally available to me, and that affected me more than I realized as I got older.

I am grateful and proud of the inner work I have done over the last six years to acknowledge and heal that wound. However, I was not expecting such a profound insight into this healing journey with my dad almost a year after he died. And yet, the more I sat in that realization, the more I prayed about it or discussed it with my spiritual director, I began to see God was at work here.

Watching my dad physically suffer while we helped care for him and into his final days was one of the hardest yet most sacred experiences of my life.
It was as if all the healing work I had faced in my father wound Jesus came and said to me, "My sweet Patty girl, all this has been restored and made whole. Your dad is gone but all this is healed as much as it can be this side of Heaven."
Dad's physical presence is gone. And yet, I feel closer to him in several ways. Our relationship is more whole and healed.
Perhaps it sounds a bit odd, it certainly feels weird to say it this way. But it is true. To the deep part of my soul, it is true.
I know not everyone perhaps has this experience with a parent who passed away. So Jesus, find me very grateful and humble for that beautiful insight. It makes me more hopeful and excited for the day when I see my dad again and am able to give him a big bear hug.

Dad may be gone, but it has all been healed.

Jesus, find me grateful for that.