Category: Hope

Hope, Love

Fresh

Carrie Sue Barnes


My lover speaks; he says to me,
“Arise, my beloved, my beautiful one,
and come!
“For see, the winter is past,
the rains are over and gone.
The flowers appear on the earth,
the time of pruning the vines has come,
and the song of the dove is heard in our land.
The fig tree puts forth its figs,
and the vines, in bloom, give forth fragrance.
Arise, my beloved, my beautiful one,
and come!
~Song of Songs 2:12~

I have two double daffodils on my desk. It is baffling how the presence of fresh flowers changes a space. They were among the few blooms in our front flower bed that came through this spring. Once their stalks bent to the ground, I rescued them to spend the last of their bright yellow days in a mug of water on this desk. Perhaps when I have a true writing desk, a space consecrated to that activity, I will aim to always have fresh flowers of some sort at hand. Someday…

It’s a season of freshness – Spring – overly wet and slow in coming though it may be. The branches of the many maples in my neighborhood are decked out in their green buds. Daylight comes at such an early hour again. Walks and bike rides and softball games are filling the evenings. My summer calendar is already heavy with plans but for now, for a few more weeks, I feel like I can breathe a bit slower, deeper, and the air I catch will swell in my lungs with the freshness it lacked through the lengthy winter.
My niece became engaged this past Sunday. For several years it was a frequent (and nearly funny) joke in our family that she might marry before me or a couple of my sisters. The idea of that happening was a lonely one indeed. The past year changed my perspective on a heck of a lot though and with my hand in Matt’s, I am able to rejoice with her. Granted the fact that my niece is getting married makes me feel a bit old, but not lonely. In a single year, I have tasted what it means to have a companion, to be beloved, to give and receive wholehearted affection, to fight for and with each other, to question and subsequently dig for the answers, to rest in another’s arms and trust them to hold you well. I say ‘tasted’ because even with all the depth of the relationship thus far, I have a back-of-the-mind sense that we have yet only skimmed the surface.
In the last few months I’ve read several books that remind me why I love reading. They remind me of what I am trying to do and why I try at all. Water for Elephants, The Guernsey Literary & Potato Peel Pie Society, Inkheart… The words of others wear away my apathy and hesitation. I have no small task in redeveloping Aillinn’s character and backstory in order to give more depth to her part in the story of Full of Days. The invigorating pleasure of taking up that task outweighs the difficulty though. I am freshly ambitious and as such I feel more like myself in this realm of things than I have for nearly a year.
There is such beauty – not vain beauty but tangible, effective beauty – in a person pursuing what God has designed them to do. To love, to create, to believe, to hope, to give of themselves in their unique ways. When the talents and qualities He has given are taken up by their possessor, those close by are able to witness that spark of life, of truly living, which I believe we all wish to experience day by day. Each day truly lived is indeed a radiant bloom.
Catholicism, Faith, Hope, Jesus, Love, Scripture

The Fundamental Decision

Carrie Sue Barnes

(originally written for/printed in “The Bells of St. Mary” parish newsletter)

If questioned on what it means to call yourself a Christian, how might you respond? Do any of the responses that come to mind reach to the heart of what it means to live under the title of Christian?

Pope Benedict XVI looks to the disciple, John, for an answer: “We have come to know and to believe in the love God has for us” (1 John 4:16). This, our pope states, is “a kind of summary of the Christian life.” Indeed, coming to this belief in God’s love is the “fundamental decision” of the Christian’s entire life. Caught up in the ways of the world and settling for rote prayers and surface-only principles, many men and women carry the title of Christian their whole lives without facing this decision. But for those who do face it, this decision brings transformation.

Faith and hope are made possible; perspective on this life in the context of eternity is gained; obedience to God’s commandments becomes an honor; worship provides nourishment of the soul; prayer holds the rich depths of personal conversation with the Holy Trinity. By this fundamental decision to believe in God’s unwavering, self-offering love, the grace gained in the soul at baptism is activated and all aspects of living as a Christian are infused with meaning.

This single fundamental decision can then be reaffirmed in each particular decision to love, serve, obey and worship. In the daily circumstances of family and work and play, all can be placed under the sovereignty of God. A person can then, with practice and maturity, love as a response to Love. Virtue will be preferred to vice not merely to avoid ill consequences but because the heart recognizes and honors the great, unmerited gift of God’s saving love.

For some, the fundamental decision to believe with the whole heart and mind in God’s love is met with hesitation. There are what might be dubbed “fundamental doubts.” (1) How is it possible, with me being me and God being God, that He could love me so completely? (2) Can I ever be sure in my belief? (3) Do I have the capacity to respond well enough if I dare admit the extent of God’s love for me?

To those struggling with the first doubt, Jesus Christ, who is the embodiment of God’s love, points out that He did not come “to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.” Awareness of our unworthiness need not produce despair but rather humility and a determination to abandon that which would hold us back from the full acceptance of God’s transforming love. It is not in God’s nature to be inconstant or to love partially. Though we know we are undeserving, we need never entertain the question of whether God wholly loves us.

And to the second doubt is offered the response that faith can indeed be certain. Our world equates faith with superstition or unrealistic idealism but truly the faith of the Christian, when understood and experienced, does not fall into either category. Certainty can be gained in the heart as a gift of the Holy Spirit through prayer and self-surrender. Certainty can be gained in the mind by committed, ongoing growth in knowledge and understanding. When there is a question or an instance of confusion, face it and seek answers. A sincere search for truth will always find truth. The authors of Scripture, the writings and lives of the martyrs and the saints, the summary of the faith found in the Catechism of the Catholic Church – all offer their insights for the sake of our edification in faith.

Thirdly, to the question of our capacity to love in response to God’s infinite love, God Himself answered at the dawn of creation: “Let us make man in our image, after our likeness” (Genesis 1:26). Made in the image of God, we are created with the capacity to love as He loves. We can grow ever more faithful, generous, joyful, merciful and forgiving as He is all these things to the fullest degree. There is no limit to our capacity to image Him and therefore honor Him.

The fundamental decision to believe in God’s love is a matter of saying yes to who God is and who we are as our truest selves. It is carried out in simple, humble ways as we move through our days, relate to one another, and worship with our brothers and sisters in Christ. It is a decision, if reaffirmed unto the last hour, which will carry us into eternal life.

Faith, Hope

Getting There

Carrie Sue Barnes

I’m nearly ready to write again. The ache is building to sneak off by myself, pen and notebook in hand, ideas in mind. The desire is coming back and that’s a big step in the right direction. It has been sadly absent for many a week.

After reading this post on one of my favorite blogs I am thinking about all that has brought me here, to this spot, this day, this chapter of my life’s manuscript. A portion of that well loved verse in Jeremiah 29 pops into my mind: “For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord…” For He knows the plans He has for me; for I do not know the plans He has for me. That is what is carrying me, building me up with determined hopefulness and happy trust. He knows…I do not, and that is as it should be. For it is He who is in possession of perfect wisdom and the fullness of love and it is with such attributes that He gazes upon me, prompts me to follow and leads me into each new day of life.

The path of my career (or lack thereof) that doesn’t seem to fit with the ambitions I had in college or in the years since… the job that is at once boring and terribly unchallenging as well as a perfect fit for my other pursuits, places me amongst great individuals and has led to a particularly blessed relationship… the times I have tried to go elsewhere, to move on to something different only to be thwarted but reassured by the Lord that I must continue to trust in His plans… the writing that has led nowhere professionally speaking but has made me into who I truly am now and taught me what it means to faithfully and diligently pursue a goal… and now the wonderful boyfriend who has captured my heart quite unpredictably…

Instance after instance stacks up to teach me that when it comes to reaching what will bring joy, love, hope and all that my life is to contain, none of it is accomplished by knowing what God has in store or where I ought to be or what I ought to be doing from month to month or year to year but by trusting that He does know, listening to my Shepherd’s voice, and surrendering myself to His capable hand which He keeps firmly placed on the course of my life.

Faith, Hope, Scripture

Not Go Empty

Carrie Sue Barnes

The brook near where Elijah was hiding ran dry, because no rain had fallen in the land. So the LORD said to Elijah: “Move on to Zarephath of Sidon and stay there. I have designated a widow there to provide for you.” He left and went to Zarephath. As he arrived at the entrance of the city, a widow was gathering sticks there; he called out to her, “Please bring me a small cupful of water to drink.” She left to get it, and he called out after her, “Please bring along a bit of bread.”
She answered, “As the LORD, your God, lives, I have nothing baked; there is only a handful of flour in my jar and a little oil in my jug. Just now I was collecting a couple of sticks, to go in and prepare something for myself and my son; when we have eaten it, we shall die.” Elijah said to her, “Do not be afraid. Go and do as you propose. But first make me a little cake and bring it to me. Then you can prepare something for yourself and your son. For the LORD, the God of Israel, says, ‘The jar of flour shall not go empty, nor the jug of oil run dry, until the day when the LORD sends rain upon the earth.’” She left and did as Elijah had said. She was able to eat for a year, and Elijah and her son as well; the jar of flour did not go empty, nor the jug of oil run dry,as the LORD had foretold through Elijah.
1 Kings 17:7-16

This is the first reading for Mass today. I was reading it this morning while I ate waffles and put off thoughts of the workday for a few more minutes. It is one of my favorite Old Testament passages because of its portrayal of the providence of God. A prophet traveling through the land, dependent upon others to support him but meeting persecution in many places; a widowed mother enduring the famine and fully aware of the direness of her conditions; a command from God to count on Him… Like weights on a scale, the risk of trusting God will come through sits heavily in the heart of the woman. She cannot see what, if anything, will be set on the opposite end of the scale. Will her need be met? Will the risk be balanced?

It wouldn’t be risk and it wouldn’t be trust if she could forsee exactly how God might provide for her.

She risks and she trusts and God does not merely balance things out but truly overwhelms the need and anxiety by His generosity and faithfulness.

Faith, Holiness, Hope, Jesus

To Her True Country

Carrie Sue Barnes

“I must keep alive in myself the desire for my true country, which I shall not find till after death; I must never let it get snowed under or turned aside; I must make it the main object of life to press on to that other country and to help others to do the same.” (C S Lewis)

This is the post I never wanted to write. Having written these posts: Please? and Joy Has Come, I knew I’d committed to writing the necessary follow up. What that follow up would be was known only to God. He has carried out His will. Amy died on Friday night, January 1st after slipping into a coma for a brief time.

I hadn’t seen Amy since June but from the bits shared with me by others, it was easy to piece together an image of her last weeks here. It is an image of faith and constancy that has repeatedly brought me to tears, challenging me to believe there truly is nothing that can, of its own force, separate us from the love and joy of Christ. As her brain was finishing its work on this earth, Amy’s mind was caught up in anticipation of eternal life. Her ability to communicate was dwindling, yet she repeatedly took up the topic of her Lord. She spoke of Him, she spoke to Him. She worshipped Him. She prayed to Him. She witnessed His miraculous presence in the Eucharist. I have a feeling that when she couldn’t communicate much else, Amy still managed to communicate her joy to her family. She looked forward to her true country, her home prepared tenderly for her by the Lord.

There are some beauties that overwhelm. They are almost painful to endure for you know that you are seeing beauty in its truest form and you cannot hold onto it. You cannot grip it and restrain it. This beauty must be released, trusted to continue on to thence from which it came. You must go on with the image of it ingrained in your heart’s memory; the experience of it drawing you toward more beauty wherever it can be found and making you willing to sacrifice anything that would mar its presence in yourself.

For numerous people, God provided this glimpse of beauty, a beauty shaped and molded for heaven, in Amy. I was able to hold in the tears until Mass this morning. As I worshipped there, knowing that my own meager devotion was joined with the perfect songs and prayers of the saints in heaven, the awareness that the beauty of heaven had, in a way, increased while the beauty of this earth had, in the same way, lessened could not be avoided.

I wanted to thank all of you who prayed for Amy and ask you to continue to pray for her husband, Todd and her family, Frank and Nancy, Michelle, Angie and Mike.

May the souls of the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.

Christmas, Faith, Holiness, Hope, Jesus

Joy Has Come

Carrie Sue Barnes

“You will show me the path to life, abounding joy in your presence, the delights at your right hand forever.” (Psalm 16:11)
Christmas has come. The simplicity and quiet of the celebrations this year (compared to how it is normally when the entire family gathers at my parents’ house) is lending itself to being more Christ-centered and reflective. I’m enjoying that a lot. It can be a difficult enough task, so any help is welcome. Fr. Mark’s homily on Christmas Eve was a compelling call to strip away all the wants of this life and want, above all, a “happy ending” to this life, or more truly a “happy eternal beginning.” Then yesterday, my friend, Erin, shared a little with me from Fr. Mike Chenier’s Christmas morning homily.
Fr. Mike is my friend, Mike, whom I mentioned previously in the post asking for prayers for his sister, Amy. That post can be found here. Excepting a miracle according to God’s great will, Amy is expected to live another one to three months. She is confused a lot of the time and has difficulty communicating now. The whole thing continues to break my heart. I have wept for Fr. Mike, who has been dear to me for so long, and for Amy, who ranks among the sweetest and most good-humored people I’ve been privileged to know. All of it breaks my heart in a way that tears away any pretense I might hold onto of knowing what this life will or won’t bring for me or my loved ones. The sense of vulnerability, our inability to sustain our own lives, and the prevailing authority of God as the Author of our lives is strong. I haven’t been able to shake it from my mind in the last few weeks.
What Erin shared from Fr. Mike’s homily has provided some necessary rounding out of these contemplations. I do wish I could have heard his sermon but the bits of summary have given me ample mental soil to work with this Christmas. He preached on joy, on the joy of Mary and Joseph and his and Amy’s joy, too. Joy instead of bitterness; that’s what was chosen by the Holy Family in the face of unavoidable suffering, certain hardship, and disconcerting mystery. Total entrustment of their lives to God’s Providence allows for this joy. The loss of all the plans and expectations for their personal lives; facing the unknown of what God was asking of them, taking from them, and giving to them, all of it could have led to fear and bitterness, even self-pity. Sorrow over the losses could take hold with no release; surely we all know people for whom this has been the case. This was not so for them. The sorrow and grief may be real but they are not the highest powers. Instead there is joy. True joy that comes from peace; true peace that comes from hope; true hope that comes from faith in the God who promises to never leave us, to always carry us back to Him, to be our “fullness of joy” for all eternity. Fr. Mike shared that in this most harrowing of times for his family, there is joy. Amy has joy; he has joy. I don’t know if I can think of another example that more effectively teaches me of the difference in depth and worth between joy and happiness. What a glorious sign of holiness when a soul still genuinely rejoices in the Lord when all sources of happiness are stripped away. I am humbled by the sight of this holiness in my friends.
Advent, Catholicism, Faith, Hope

What’s Your Compass?

Carrie Sue Barnes

As a Catholic I get to celebrate two New Years. This past Sunday signified the end of the Church year (the liturgical cycle of feast days and seasons commemorating the great truths, events and mysteries of Christ and the Church). With this coming Sunday, the new Church year is inaugurated by the 1st Sunday of Advent. Advent: that holy season of preparation, waiting, anticipation, contemplation. During Advent we have a two-fold focus in our liturgies (and are invited to have them in our personal prayers as well) of the Incarnation, when the Son of God assumed a human nature to dwell among us for our salvation, and the Parousia, when that same Person shall return at the close of time for the final judgment of all men and women ever created. It’s a rich set of weeks, easily missed in the bustle of the “holiday season” celebrated by shopping centers and television programming.

Lately I’ve been troubled by how few things there are that I can count on, especially how few events or experiences I can count on happening. At any given moment, I could probably think of a dozen things that I want to happen, even that I have genuine hope of happening, but there is truly only one event left that I can count on happening. That is the coming of Christ. The 2nd Coming, to be specific. The glorious return of the King of kings, the Lord of lords, triumphant and final. Nothing else is guaranteed.

Is this a pessimistic, negative, ‘to hell with all my work and plans’ sort of perspective? Or is it a realistic, positive, ‘everything only matters in light of Christ’ perspective? I suppose it’s neutral in itself. But how do I apply it? How am I influenced by it? That’s where the rubber meets the road. Accepting and grasping this truth can shape those wants and hopes I have from day to day, year to year, as well as my reactions when they either do or do not come to fruition. The lasting weight of anything that happens in this life is only measurable in terms of eternity, e.g. did this loss unite me more closely to Christ? Did this gain incline me toward praise of and thanksgiving to God? “God works all things for the good of those who love Him,” assuming I freely submit to His divine Providence.

In a recent discussion with some fellow Catholics, the question came up of whether or not we were wasting our time to be pondering Heaven. What can we know of it? What can we hope for? What will it be like? Admittedly, we are almost laughably limited in our capacity to understand or grasp the reality of Heaven. So do we waste our time by thinking about it? I argued vehemently, no. Pondering Heaven (or likewise, the end of time when Christ will return) is not a waste of my time. To explore the reality of Heaven is to explore my destination, my eternal homeland. To contemplate the return of Christ in all His victorious glory is to contemplate the final, definitive consummation of love. All that was begun when God, out of the abundance of His love, created the heavens and the earth and all who dwell there, all that was redeemed and reconciled by the sacrifice of perfect, divine love in Jesus Christ on the Cross, all that is hoped for and sought by the generations of faithful believers since will be completed by His return. The Kingdom of God, that mysterious ‘now but not yet’ reality of what Jesus has done and what we are cooperating with by grace and free will, shall then be everything there is and ever will be.

The mind boggling truth that I get to contribute to this coming of the Kingdom has the power to shape every day that I live on this earth. Contemplation of the adventus, the coming of Christ at the end of time, does not cause me to neglect the things that make up my earthly life. Rather it informs that life, contextualizing it and directing it. Heaven is our true north.

Come, Lord Jesus, come.