Sorrow Wide and Deep

I've been consistently silent about what I'm ready to share today. It's kind of ironic that this blog, this year of sharing thoughts and experiences on the web, has been called the Heart of Things, and yet all the while something at the very heart of our life has been hushed over. It's a source of suffering that I think, in retrospect, has fueled all of these reflections on God, life and everything in between.

This weekend, I was reading in Pope Benedict's book, Jesus of Nazareth, about God's great kenosis, or self-emptying. The Pope talks about how God has been pouring Himself out in super-abundance for us since the beginning, even before Jesus. Our God Who is Love has always made this move, this condescension; to get down to our level, to speak our language, to give us His hand as a Father coming down to caress his child's face. All of this simply so that we could know and love Him, see Him for Who He is.

Pope Benedict said that each descent of God (into the Garden of Eden at the breezy time of the day, the Burning Bush before Moses, the mouths of the prophets, and especially and definitively in Jesus Himself) was a movement that left God.... vulnerable.

By giving us His Name, there was the risk of us misusing it. By becoming man there was the risk of men ignoring Him. By becoming our very food in the Eucharist, there was the risk that we would rather taste something else, some fruit that might even be poison for us. But in all of this, God took the risk anyway; He became little so that we might become big in the best sense of the word.

In the lonely hollow of our hearts, there is an infinite amount of space. It's here where Love seeks to find a home. So each of us has this capacity, this dwelling place for love. Many of us have this space occupied and expanded by the love of friends, then a spouse, and finally in the blessing of children. Entering into each of these loves makes us vulnerable. We have to take a leap of faith and trust that love will be returned, or that we in turn will give real love, give of ourselves.

Four years ago, my wife and I took that leap into marriage. It's elated and expanded our hearts, and I believe we are bigger and better for the love we've found in each other. But in these years, a cross has come and set itself up, looming right in the very center of our life together. It's the cross of infertility.

Now if the cross means contradiction, than I can't think of a more custom fit cross than this one. Rebecca has dreamed of motherhood since she was seven years old. I mourn the loss of little ones who will have her eyes, my height, her heart, my humor (?)... We long for children. When we were first married, we volunteered to live as house parents at a wonderful home for crisis pregnancies. My wife, me, and up to twelve pregnant ladies! It was a treasure to watch the little lives grow, and the women who might have chosen abortion found a safe haven where they could fall in love with their squirming little bundles of joy. But in the midst of this nearly two year mission, we discovered we were incapable of having a baby ourselves. To add to this irony, Rebecca was working during the day with pregnant women in a PPD program.

It seems, after surgeries, doctors, consultations and counselors, that having our own children would be nothing short of a miracle (and we're still counting on Pope John Paul II for that one). Since we've moved on from Mother's Home, we've continued seeing doctors and seeking answers on the quest to have a family. We've met with the adoption branch of Catholic Social Services, we've sought advice from our priest friends, Catholic bioethicists, physicians, etc. It's been a real emotional roller coaster, and there's so much more to share.

For now, I just wanted to open this door that I've been keeping neatly shut. This is my little kenosis. It's not easy sharing this cross. It glares up at us from the over 19 cribs of friends who've just had babies, and from the 9 new sets of beautiful eyes of nieces and nephews just born in the last four years in our own families. But it's time to open the wound. I'm not sure where this will go, but I will from time to time share more of our story.

In the words of a famous Catholic blogger and author, Amy Welborn, whose blog is called "Open Book," a blog is just that, an open book for others to read and share thoughts on. I think it makes us more vulnerable, but that also makes it the front porch to communion.

A new tag on my blog site listed as "infertility" and "The Struggle" will be the quickest way to find more of our sharing on this. Everyone has their cross. I ask for your prayers that we get the grace to keep carrying ours, and we'll pray for your daily walk as well. God is good and God is with us all. This I know!

Could You Do Me a Favor?

Well friends, it's been over a year now with this here blogging initiative. Thanks for the feedback over the last 12 months, to those who've posted comments here at the actual blog, and to all those who have replied to the blog posts that have gone out through the Mission Moment e-mail. There are now over 360 different reflections posted and archived on the Heart of Things blog! From topics as varied as beauty, Beyoncé, and the Bible, to C.S. Lewis, family, and the Theology of the Body. I've talked about Tolkien, trust, truth, and TV... weakness, witness, and wonder (my favorite topic). Now I wanted to ask a favor. If ever in the course of this year, some random thought has touched you, made you go "hmmpph..... yeah, I concur!", or led you to pass the thought on to someone in your address book, then I'd ask you to consider nominating my blog at the prestigious "Blogger's Choice Awards" website (yes, I'm serious). Many Catholic bloggers out there have had their work chosen and it's a great witness to the yearning we all have for truth and faith and meaning in life. It's also a way to get the word out there to others about the kind of writing you find at this blog, The Heart of Things. So, the nominating is easy. Just visit http://www.bloggerschoiceawards.com/nominate ... and follow through the 3 easy steps for nominating a blog. It's much appreciated!! Thanks again for the e-mails and support from those of you reading The Heart of Things blog. Peace and Prayers, Bill Donaghy

Quick Thought on Quick Decisions

Friday's Gospel was from Matthew 9:9-13:

"As Jesus passed by, he saw a man named Matthew sitting at the customs post. He said to him, "Follow me." And he got up and followed him."

I love it.

It takes me forever sometimes to make a decision. I mean the big ones. Breakfast at a diner, easy. I don't even look at the menu anymore.

But with those biggies.... I often peruse the poolside way too long, as if the water will get warmer the longer I wait. But sometimes I do get the grace to respond to the grace to just JUMP IN.

Sometimes we wait too long. We wait until all the reports are in. Then we wait even longer, because we need to verify those reports, and then get them copied for the "committee" to look over and then form a "follow up report"....

Aboulia is defined as the loss or impairment of the ability to make decisions or act independently.

Did you ever have a case of aboulia? Did you ever get stuck in your own head, doing mental gymnastics, spinning the wheels when it was high time that you just made that stinkin' decision?! I have, many times.

"Follow me." And he got up and followed him." Matthew was swift. He had skills. As the psalmist sings, "My heart is ready Oh God, my heart is ready."

That's trust. I used to stink at it. I still have my stinky days, but I'm living and learning. Because with every invitation of grace, I recall that He is trustworthy. I didn't die the last time (well, except in the proverbial death-to-self way). And even if I should die in this new adventure He calls me into, so be it. Look at the history we have of those who followed Him, died, and we're raised to New Life! A life beyond anything we could ever have cooked up, a life far better than the one that forever falters along the edge of the Poolside of Life, wondering what it's like to really swim.

In the immortal words of Carrie Newcomer (sweet folksinger and dang good lyricist) : "Sometimes you just close your eyes and jump, you don't think too long or maybe you just won't. Sometimes you just follow your heart, don't analyze too long or maybe it might just be gone."

+
Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless handheld

Wacky Wacky Stuff

A friend just sent me this CRAZY tune on the Lord of the Rings. Hilarious, and the clips from the films is well done too! Enjoy!

Tony Melendez Plays for the Pope

Maybe you've seen this classic footage of Tony, the beautiful soul, born without arms because of thalidomide taken during pregnancy, who played for Pope John Paul II in LA, 1987. Here are two songs of his, and halfway through you'll see the actual film of John Paul II coming down to embrace Tony after he played. Be sure to read the synopsis of Tony's amazing story in the sidebar of the video.

Catholic American or American Catholic? Church and State on Today's Radio Show

Gerald Russello was my guest on the Heart of Things Radio Show this evening. He is a Fellow of the Chesterton Institute at Seton Hall University and editor of University Bookman, as well as the editor of "Christianity and European Culture: Selections from the Work of Christopher Dawson." He lives in Brooklyn, New York. As promised, here are some links to his new book, an article and more! Gerald's new book "The Postmodern Imagination of Russell Kirk" - http://press.umsystem.edu/spring2007/russello.htm

His article on "Tearing Down the Wall" - http://ncregister.com/site/article/2843

More on Russell Kirk - http://www.kirkcenter.org/bookman/index.html

More on G. K. Chesterton - http://www.chesterton.org/discover/quotations.html More on the University Bookman - http://www.kirkcenter.org/bookman/index.html

"Can I Get a Witness?" - The Feast of St. Thomas

I heard a preacher once who made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. It was years ago; a Saturday as I remember. I was in my dorm room at Overbrook flipping through radio stations when I came upon the burly, gravelly voice of a man on fire.

He was preaching to a gathering in a church somewhere in the city, and suddenly, I was a part of the congregation. He started slow and steady, in a thick, southern rumble, black and smokey. My hand stopped spinning the dial.


"... Now the next Sunday," it broke in... "Thomas was at church....(uh huh, amen, gushed the crowd)... "Ya see, Jesus had appeared after the Resurrection... but Thomas was outside a church that Sunday (mm hmm, oh no).... Now y'all know the difference in ya life when you at church, and when you away from church?" (oh yes, amen!).... "Well the next Sunday, Thomas was at church... and the doors were locked. Can I get a witness? And Jesus.... well, He just showed up...." (This brought a surge of amens and alleluias). "Jesus didn't knock on the door. He didn't use a key. He didn't get a usher to lead Him down the aisle.... HE JUST SHOWED UP!" (amen!!)

"Now Jesus has a mind to show up at church when He gets ready. After all, the thang belong to Him! He can show up anytime He want to!!" (amen!! preach it!)

"And Jesus said "now peace be with y'all" and He looked at Thomas and said "Now come here Thomas...." (amen, oh yes He did!) "Now Thomas..... I heard all a dat BIG talk you been making..... now come on over here. Put ya hand in my side. Put ya fingers in the nail prints in my hands!" (glory be, amen!) "No longer doubt but BELIEVE!..... and Thomas just stood there.... shaking." (laughter) "And do you know what he said? He didn't say 'Lemme get my Biology 101 notes... he didn't say... let me talk to my.... psychiatrist!" (oh no) "You know what he said? ..... (a hush came over the congregation, and I listened wrapped to the radio)

"MY LORD..... AND MY GOD!"



It's funny that I remember all of this so well, I had thrown a tape in and recorded most of it, but I've since lost the tape, years ago. The preacher went on to witness to the power of faith, and his voice slowly rose to a bellowing cry, a lion's roar, and he ended by nearly chanting something like the Apostle's Creed. It was insanely moving. I couldn't help but get caught up in that fire and spirit.


Now Thomas is one of us. Heck, all the saints are. We often gild them over with shiny marble and peaceful plastic smiles, but all of them lived this very life. Many were distraught at times, upset, doubtful, anxious, troubled. But they persevered, didn't they? I admire Thomas for this very reason; because he questioned, and seemingly not out of disrespect or just to be "doubtful"... He wanted more. He wouldn't settle for a blind faith, or for words only. He went deeper, he probed into the purported miracle, quite literally, and pushed into the Mystery. He moved beyond the here say, the reports, the gossip. Some can and do believe without this digging in, and in all truth "blessed are they who have not seen and yet believe." Blessed are those who can receive the gift with open arms and open minds. But I think in our modern age, a Thomas makes it easier for many of us; he paves the way for the wondering to walk and the doubtful to dig a little further. Here's a saint for the modern age.

But are we willing to go as far as Thomas did? He didn't end as the Doubtful, but the Daring. He stepped up and proclaimed that Divinity was now dwelling in Humanity. He cried out in faith that God was in the flesh, right before him!

Can we do this, or will we stay mired in our doubt or worse, indifference? Can we approach Jesus, the Wounded Healer, and stretch out our trembling hands? If we put our finger into his wounds He will pull us further in. Give Him an inch and He will take our hearts.

Are we willing to let go of the past and see that now, all things are new? Let's walk behind Thomas today, and ask for the courage to say with him, "My Lord... and my God!"