In this Sunday’s Gospel we find Jesus asking again, “What do you want?” The response, “That I may see.” Blessed are those who see. I have been especially blessed this week to see much beauty.
I visited Starved Rock State Park yesterday, about 90 miles southwest of Chicago. This may be the peak week for fall colors in our area, and yesterday was perfectly sunny and temperate. Even as I drove I-80 the occasional bright red of maples and flaming bushes captured my attention. At Starved Rock, I hiked numerous trails along 100 foot rock formations of St. Peter’s Lime - don’t know how it got its name - and lush canyons, canopied by clouds of yellow and orange yellow leaves, with some red splashed here and there. There were several falls, and cliff sites along the Illinois River, giving one pause to soak in the serenity and breathtaking vistas.
At each resting place, ladybugs swarmed by the dozens much like flies at a meat market in some third-world country. Their size and color varied, but there was one constant: they flew as if blind, nor without a sonar system, crashing (painfully at times) into one’s face and other parts of the body. One hiker was talking with his wife when one of the ladybugs flew into his mouth.
I had brought a book to sit, read, and reflect upon. But surrounded by all that majestic wonder, I saw no need to read. Indeed I wondered what is so important to write, when all we need to do is observe, breathe it in with eyes and nostrils, and simply appreciate and give thanks. I shared as much last night with Sr. Marcan, a dear friend in Assisi Heights, MN. She said, “Oh, no. You have to write to help us see.” That’s quite a challenge. But I’m pleased to share the blessings of this past week.
Earlier, while on assignment to Modesto, CA, I was blessed to visit nearby Yosemite National Park, one of our nation’s best. The serpentine roads led past giant sequoias whose birth may be older than our nation, as well as deep gorges and vistas of snow-capped peaks. At the basin, El Capitan, Half Dome, and other granite columns tower over the canyon. Some years earlier I was foolhardy enough to scale Half Dome. This time the highlight was a 12-point buck about five feet away. We simply gazed at each other in silence and continued on our respective paths.
On Tuesday, while at my ministry at UIC (University of Illinois – Chicago Circle), I was sitting at a picnic table marveling at the beauty of the fall colors on some of the maples that line the walks. I also observed the students as they marched from one building to the next – hundreds of them, all rushing like armies of ants on a mission. I noticed one girl with three-inch heels, and so began to look at the shoes of the students as they marched by. I did not see two pairs that matched. Not only are we unique, so, too, our attire. Watching the students in their mad rush, brought to mind a poem penned by a Colombian friend:
I walked away from you that morning as I went to work.
I walked as if still asleep, absorbed with my plans.
I robed and bundled myself with my excuses.
I walked past you lost in my own thoughts.
Why did I not believe it was you, though you had said so?
How could I believe it was you, if all I saw was a little boy?
I saw him naked. I saw him. I saw him beaten.
I saw him sleeping. I saw him. I say him crying.
But I did not see you, my brother, crying out to me.
What do YOU see?
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Coping with a loved one who is ill, particularly with a mental illness, such as my adult daughter who is bi-polar, which she chooses to use illegal drugs and/or marijuana for, is heart wrenching. She does not want to take or will not take traditional drugs for her condition and is non-compliant to treatment. The rest of the family never knows for sure if her pleas for money or attention are valid or if what she tells us is true. We, our family, want to help her and support her and she asks for our understanding and love but we find it hard to "like" her behavior although she is loved. She was in and out of drug rehabs starting at 13 until she officially moved out on her own and married young although is divorced now. That's just a short background. Since she verbally attacks me, and threatens physical harm along with regressing back to her childhood when I see her, i.e., blaming me for putting her in drug rehabs., blaming her family life, and everyone and everything for her unhappiness up to this point, I am grateful to have been accepted into a 12 week course through NAMI, an acronym for National Alliance on Mental Illness, which is a support group (I believe similar to Alanon) for friends and family of individuals with a serious mental illness. Have any of you heard of or been involved with this group? I start the class on Oct. 30th and we do have a wedding coming up 10 days later when her brother is getting married. I have prayed for her constantly, given her to God, and of course also pray she will not disrupt the wedding with her outbursts and vile language. She so wants to be part of the family but drives everyone away because of her continual blaming of everyone for her shortfalls in life. Any help would be appreciated. And by the way, when I do see her in person, I, her mother, try to have someone with me, preferably a male because she will not attack me then. If I am with a female friend or alone, she rages, to which I just listen, apologize for her childhood and encourage her to live from this day on, but so far, and she is 39, nothing has worked. So, again, if any of you can offer any suggestions, I would be most grateful. Peace, prayers and love to all.
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