Maureen Smith, Author at Amazing Catechists

Living Advent: How to Cope with the Awkwardness of the First Week

I want to begin by acknowledging the difficulty of entering into the Advent season this year. I almost forgot it was the first week of Advent between the Thanksgiving travels and the craziness of the secular world that started celebrating the holidays weeks ago. Gone is the “PSL” craze, quickly replaced by everything flavored peppermint and dyed red in mid-November.

Mass this Sunday was sufficiently awkward since no one knew the Mass parts yet and everyone was still in Thanksgiving mode.

My confusion was exacerbated because I forgot that Advent starts with contemplating the second coming rather than the first two Joyful Mysteries.

I found myself overwhelmed, not knowing what to pray with or how to live fully this season which is supposed to be a time of peace. I thought, how can I begin to appreciate the Advent Season in such a noisy environment?

For those of us who work for the Church, in ministry, or in catechesis this is an especially busy time of year. The thought of finding and contemplating the silence of Advent and the Nativity only leaves us jealous of the Holy Family.

Here are a few tips that might be helpful for me and for you when it is difficult to live Advent.

1. Journaling. Sharing your thoughts with Jesus, I believe, is the first step towards sorting out the confusing and conflicting emotions of the secular world and its holiday season that started before Thanksgiving and ends on Christmas day.

Not a journaler? Try something else new such as an Advent devotional or making a gratitude list, something that can become a springboard to contemplation when your prayer feels dry or empty and you are tempted to quit because you have so many other commitments.

2. Liturgy. The Church has great tools for entering into Advent aside from the obvious Advent calendars and candles. The First Readings from Isaiah serve as great daily meditation for us to gain access to what the Lord has in store for each of us. I have found it helpful to see how the Prophet’s words are fulfilled in our own lives and in our own hearts.

3. Patience. The last thing Jesus wants is for us to be worried and anxious about doing Advent “wrong.” This year might feel different from other years, but that is because it is! It is a brand new opportunity for us to receive grace and deeper insight into the Love God has for each and every soul.

Happy Advent!

To those who feel alone…

By Maureen Smith

Every first Friday at my office there is a holy hour at the end of the day. I rarely get the opportunity to go to adoration, so this is a time of great grace for me when I am able to attend.

When I entered the chapel last Friday I saw something that made me feel sorrow for the Heart of Jesus. I was one of three people who came to adore him that afternoon. I didn’t feel any sort of judgment for those who could not make this prayer time, but the Lord revealed to me the loneliness of Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament.

How many times have I rushed past the Chapel thinking of the next thing, or how many excuses have I made for not spending just a moment in prayer?

How many times have I felt the great pain of loneliness and have forgotten what the Lord felt in his Agony, his Passion and his Death?

“In order to be like You, who are always alone in the Blessed Sacrament, I shall love solitude and try to converse with You as much as possible.”

These are the words of Saint Margaret Mary Alocoque who understood well the sorrowful Heart of Jesus that knows abandonment and rejection.

But what are we to offer to the Lord? I feel I am unable to do anything without adding to the sorrows of Jesus, seeing my sinfulness and many weaknesses. But discouragement and any thoughts contrary to those that draw us to the Feet of Jesus are not of God. Hiding in shame and self-punishment are never what God asks, but rather repentence and returning to the Lord, even (and especially) if we come with our own sorrows and hurts.

This is what we are to offer Him, our own hearts that he desires to place within his heart–in order to heal and redeem the parts that we thought hopeless or unworthy of Him.

This kind of prayer, this being alone with the one who is alone is incredibly freeing, even if it is painful. It means acknowledging our lowliness, our inability to be “great” in any worldly sense, and admitting that all of our efforts in this life would be meaningless…except that He dwells in them and makes this life worth living through the redemption He offers.

We can only have hope in this life with him because without Him there would be no point to everything we do. Our faith tells us that not only is there hope and meaning to life, but even joy in suffering and death. In them we are reborn into Eternal Life with our God, the life in which we are invited to participate at Baptism, a reality which comes most alive in the union we call prayer.

When you feel alone, let it become an opportunity to open the door to the Heart of Christ rather than to dispair or discouragement. He is always alone with you.

“Even if a mother should forget her child, I will never forget you…”

By Maureen Smith

This past week I had the opportunity to serve a young woman in a crisis pregnancy. Although in the end she chose to go through with the abortion, and although it was a heartbreaking experience for the many people involved in ministry and prayer, I am grateful that I was able to be a small part of this ministry.

I thought I would share a few of my thoughts and reflections.

First of all, I was blown away by the generous response of all of those I reached out to for resources for this woman.

So much love for one mother and her child.

In a few days, because of the friends, using mostly text messages, this woman had multiple job opportunities, places to live, families to adopt the baby, and other practical needs. There were those I had lost touch with for a few years, but all awkwardness and reservation was consumed by the love for this woman who they will probably never meet.

I was tempted part way through the week to be prideful in my “networking skills.” But coming before the Lord I saw this sin for what it was and the reality of what I was doing. This was not about me, it was not about me proving I could be successful at this particular project. This was about being an instrument, if God saw it fit to use me. Plus, it was really through those who responded to my message that the real miracles were taking place.

I was inspired by the love poured out for these two souls, and it brought tears to my eyes seeing so many people put their lives on hold for the possibility of assisting someone who might not choose to receive their help.

So many prayers were offered, and I was struck by the amount of generosity and love that was given for this pregnant woman.

And when the news came about the final decision, we all grieved. But the ministry kept going, and it seemed the prayers and love only increased.

In the hours and moments of waiting to see what she would decide, knowing I would have to tell the almost 100 prayer warriors the update, I looked at the Lord, asking him how he could let us do this to him!

Every day he watches us, sends us guardian angels to guide us carefully along the right path, and places so many miracles in our lives. And yet we do not have eyes to recognize them and often miss them. But he still waits for us, still loves us, arguably even more because his heart is “sorrowful unto death”–since he is not closer to us.

I am reminded of the Prophet Isaiah’s words, “Can a mother forget her infant, be without tenderness for the child of her womb? Even should she forget, I will never forget you. See, upon the palms of my hands I have engraved you; your walls are ever before me” (Is 49:15-16).

This is our faith, that God will never forget us, he will never let go of us, even if we falter, even if others abandon us.

This week was not only one of grief but of hope. Of course I feel much consolation knowing that the child now lives in the tender embrace of Jesus and Mary.

I also have great hope in the mercy and love of God, because if human love can stretch the hearts of so many zealous, yet imperfect, souls, then how much more does Our Lord’s Heart swell with compassion for all of us who are in great need of His Mercy?

I am forever grateful to all of you who prayed and continue to pray for the woman and her child, and I am certain that the graces from those prayers and offerings will indeed touch that woman’s soul, even if we never get to see the fruit. To all of you, I pray that in Heaven this woman will be able to thank you personally and tell you of the great things that your prayers and the love of our Heavenly Father have done for her.

Jesus offers us discipleship, not job security

By Maureen Smith

This morning I just want to offer a few words on today’s Gospel, where James and John ask to sit at Jesus’ right and left in his kingdom. In other words, they are asking for some sort of verbal confirmation of job security. How many of us have been anxious about whether our employer will give us tenure or whether we will survive lay offs?

Discipleship, however, is very different. The homilist at my parish noted that those who sat at Jesus’ left and right as he was preparing to enter his kingdom were those crucified with him.

We are offered security, but Jesus tells us that our securities are not recognition or a 401K. They are the promise of his Baptism and his Crucifixion, his preparation for mission and his passion. What this discipleship is about is not our position or our apparent success but rather the docility to the Word of God at work in us.

God bless you this Sunday!

Love Never Fails

By Maureen Smith

It is true that saints and devotions chose us. For someone who hates pink, Valentines Day, and all things frilly and girly, the Sacred Heart is an unlikely devotion for me to be called to embrace. That is how I know it is the work of God. He often reveals His Love through this devotion, most of the time when I am convincing myself that all things are lost.

This particular story reminds me of the line from Saint Paul that “Love never fails,” and I would agree except I would add to this … “even when it seems like it already has.”

About six years ago when I was studying abroad in Rome I made plans to meet my sister in Capri with her friends, who were visiting on Spring Break. I got up early and went to my favorite Church, the “Gesu,” (where there was a sweet little Sacred Heart Chapel) for early morning Mass before going to the train. I got there with plenty of time and was excited to see my sister after being tied down to school work because of midterms.

There were only a few minutes until the departure but there was still no track number. After inquiring about this I was told that this train was canceled. (Only in Italy!) Devastated, I walked around the train station and wandered into a nearby Church to wait for the next one which would shorten my excursion significantly.

Surprisingly, I felt much peace after praying for a few minutes and wondered which Church this was. I went to find a bulletin and found out it was a minor basilica…of the Sacred Heart. I felt much better, jumped on the next train, and got to where I was supposed to take a ferry to get to the island.

When I got to the ferry I realized that I had just missed the one I was trying to make. Frustrated even more I walked around and found a little Chapel almost hidden in the rocks of the rocky coast. I felt better again after prayer and looked up to see large banners hanging from the ceiling, images of the Sacred and Immaculate Hearts of Mary.

I was being cared for, I wasn’t alone!

Soon after I hopped on the ferry, (which happened to be an express!) I eventually got to Capri and met up with my sister, and as we were taking the ferry back to Rome I realized that it was Friday, and not just any Friday, but First Friday.

Just when I feel everything falling to pieces around me, when I feel like my life itself is a failure, this is the moment when the Love of God touches us. It doesn’t prevent us from missing trains or getting lost but it gives us the assurance that we belong to the Heart of Jesus.

The devotion of the Sacred Heart of Jesus isn’t always (or isn’t usually) a romantic “feeling” but it is the great privilege of being Sons and Daughters of God, or “co-heirs with Christ.” May the Lord reveal to you His great love this day.

Our Cornerstones

By Maureen Smith

If we remember anything from Mass today, it is probably the Gospel, as today is commonly known as “Good Shepherd Sunday.” We probably heard homilies on this passage from John where Jesus calls Himself the Good Shepherd who “lays down his life for his sheep.”

As I sat at Mass this morning, it would have been easy for me to pass over the other readings and focus on the Gospel, but the homily I heard tied in the concept of rejection from the first reading from the Acts of the Apostles, which references the Psalm for the day. Jesus is the “stone rejected by the builders” that has become the “cornerstone.” The Passion of our Lord which we recently celebrated was His greatest rejection, and His becoming the “cornerstone” is what we celebrate this whole season of Easter.

How often are we rejected? In each chapter of our lives we face some sort of rejection. We experience rejections among our friends and family, school, work, and in so many places. Many of our fears come from these experiences, whether we are mindful of them or not.

The very fact that Jesus was rejected – and that His exultation came, not just despite but, because of His acceptance and endurance of His rejection – gives us great hope. We come to believe that it is through our experiences of rejection that we learn to belong to God rather than anything else where we might experience rejection.

But often it is not other people that reject us, it is ourselves that do the rejecting. We can find it hard to accept ourselves the way we are, with our wounds, our imperfections, our current circumstances. We fail to let this Good Shepherd lay down His life for us because we are so afraid of rejection. We deny ourselves the possibility of being raised up with Jesus as the cornerstone with those shameful parts of us we are rejecting in ourselves.

The Lord put on my heart today that it is these very places that we reject that He comes to redeem, glorify, and make the cornerstones in our lives. If we have the courage not to reject ourselves, we can then embrace the Love of the Good Shepherd without reservation. He does not say that He has come to lay down His life for His sheep, except those with this problem or that problem. No! He travels every corner of the world to bring each soul to His Heart that loves us too much to reject us as we often reject ourselves.

What are those “stones” that we reject in ourselves? How does God want to redeem them and exalt them as cornerstones?

I pray that all of us reflect on this profound truth, that Christ who has come to save us and bring us into His Flock has a Heart so tender and loving that will never reject those who come to Him.

The Father’s Love

By Maureen Smith

This Lent I have found that my prayer has led me to strengthen my relationship with God the Father. The Liturgy and the various traditions of this Holy Season draw me into solitude and I have become mindful of my dependence on Him, who cares for His little daughter.

I do not think it is a coincidence that my (earthly) father’s birthday is today, Friday of the First Week of Lent. As I reflect on the gift that my father is to me, I am reminded of how the Lord is at work in my life during Lent – particularly how God the Father is pursuing a more intimate relationship with me, His daughter. These are just a few ways that I see parallels in the relationships with my two Fathers, with a special Lenten focus.

1. My Father loves to look at me.

There are few things more precious than watching a new parent hold his or her child. It is easy to think that after we grow up our parents stop looking at us this way, since we have exhausted their capacity to look tenderly upon us. But I know for a fact that my Dad still likes to see me. I know that between the hours of 4 pm and 8 pm each Sunday I will receive a voice mail from my him, asking when I will be able to visit again. And ever time I do visit, his last words are, “…So when are you coming back?”

In the same way, as I enter the silence of Lent, I see that my Heavenly Father is overjoyed that I have committed to increase my time of prayer, not so that I can “do” anything for Him, but so that He can just look at me and be with me.

2. My Father watches out for me, even when I’ve done something wrong.

Often times when I fail to meet expectations or am struggling in life, I hesitate to tell my dad. It took me a long time to realize that he doesn’t judge me as I judge myself, and that he cares for me even when I come to him with my failures and brokenness. When I spoke to him recently about my struggles with depression and my eating disorder, and my plans to help others in recovery, I was incredibly nervous. Up until then I would usually pretend I had it all together. After I finally revealed my life the way it truly was, rather than putting up a happy-go-lucky facade, I saw my dad’s face prouder than I’ve ever seen. Even though I was admitting my brokenness, without the illusion of self-sufficiency and autonomy, I felt more than ever that I belonged to my father, and that he would always care for me and support me.

This reminds me of the story of the Prodigal Son, who was embraced by his father upon his return, who was waiting for him. He did not punish him for squandering his inheritance, rather, the father meets him with a heart full of mercy and forgiveness, in his poverty and humility – and draws him into the intimate bond of sonship. This reminds me of the words of the Attende Domine, a hymn sung during Lent, “Draw near, O Lord our God, graciously hear us, keep us from sinning before you…”

We who are sons and daughters of God can be confident in the fidelity of the Father’s love. He is always ready to forgive us and capture us in his loving arms despite our fear of disapproval. Lent reminds us of this truth, that we can turn back to Him and that we belong to Him regardless of our past.

3. My Father loves to give me presents.

I remember as a kid, being so excited when my dad would return from his business trips. Aside from the fact that I missed him, he usually used to bring home presents for me and each of my siblings. Even when I entered religious life for two years he would send me gifts, and to this day he still has a great desire to give me things. Last year he gave me his extra car (!) so that I can visit more often. It is not the gift itself but the love that is expressed in the act of giving that I treasure so much.

My Heavenly Father does the same for me. Lent is a time when we “give up” consolations, but the stripping away of those earthly comforts reveals those spiritual gifts we so often neglect to see. Each day He nourishes me with the gift of His Son in the Word and in the Eucharist. In Confession He strengthens, heals, and forgives me. Many of His presents are not so tangible, but with the eyes of faith I can see how His grace surrounds me. Each day brings with it so many little miracles that remind me of God’s love and affection. Many of these go unnoticed, for example, the smile of a stranger, the Scripture verse that struck my heart, the flower that blooms in the middle of winter. These are all reminders of what the love of my dad points to – the eternal, never-failing, inexhaustible, and unquenchable love of Our Father in Heaven.

I realize that there are many who are not blessed with a father like mine, and so this inspires gratitude in my heart to God for this great “present.” It also reminds me that no matter who we are, no matter what our relationship is like with our father, we all have a God in Heaven that we can call Father. I pray that each of us this Lent will be strengthened in the relationships with our father and father figures, and most importantly with Our Heavenly Father, Who looks upon us with great love, Who protects and forgives us, and Who gave us the best gift of all – salvation by the Death and Resurrection of His Son which we commemorate during this Holy Season.

To Fast or Not To Fast

By Maureen Smith

Last Wednesday, Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent, I sat in the back of the Chapel after work. I was asking Jesus if it was all right that I ate that extra protein bar at lunch. I thought I should have gone without it.

You see, I am not allowed to fast. Why? Because for over half my life I have struggled with an eating disorder, and since I have been in recovery I have been told not to fast. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not that disappointed that I don’t have to be perpetually hungry, but there is a part of me that feels guilty alongside those who fast. So I sat in the pew trying to sort out which thoughts were of God and which were of the evil one.

The next morning, as I went for a swim before work, I was praying my Rosary to help me meditate on the Life of Jesus. It was Thursday, so I prayed with the Luminous Mysteries, the first being the Baptism in the Jordan. I thought about Jesus, how he willingly took on our humanity and our sins. I am not alone in my Lenten journey, in my eating disorder, in my recovery, in anything at all! This frames Lent as well as anything I do – I am not alone and neither are any of you!

The second mystery, the Wedding Feast of Cana. The Lord doesn’t ask us to make up for our failings on our own. Following the example of Mary, we come to Jesus as beggars, and ask for His help and His mercy, in whatever way He sees fit. I am not doing this Lent thing by myself or for myself, nor am I trying to overcome an addiction by myself or for myself. It is all through Him, in Him, with Him, and for Him. He makes all things new. By my own strength I could never change water into wine or perform any miracle, let alone heal my own addiction, but I can do all things with Christ.

The third mystery, the Proclamation of the Kingdom. The words that came to me as I was swimming back and forth were, “Blessed are the poor in spirit.” I worry constantly that I don’t do “enough.” What is this “enough” stuff? I am comparing myself to others, to where I thought I should be, to where I was before, etc. etc. But what does Jesus ask of me? Is it the same as what I am asking of myself?

A few years ago I spent two years as a sister in Religious Life. In my second year, it became clear that I was struggling with eating, and so my Superior forbid me to fast during Lent. My Lenten “fast” was to eat snacks between meals, which were prepared by another sister so that I wouldn’t cheat. This was the greatest poverty I had ever experienced. I saw sisters fasting intensely as I was angrily smothering butter on my toast. And I felt nothing but shame when it was time for my mid-morning snack, which was hidden in the pantry. Hot tears rolled down my face when another confused sister found my hidden snack one day.

My point is not to make you feel bad for me, but to proclaim the truth that this “fast” is what Jesus asked of me. I wanted to choose my own Cross and fast like everyone else was doing, but that wouldn’t have helped me grow closer to Him–which is the point of Lent, right? If I had fasted as most did, I would have gained pride and a feeling of power. I would not have felt that poverty, that truth that I was totally dependent on the Lord and His Love and Mercy. I knew then the humiliation He felt during His Passion, and by knowing Him, He knew me.

As I was finishing my last few laps I prayed with the Transfiguration. I often ask Jesus if He’s sure He still loves me this way, wounded and far from perfect. Sometimes I delay in coming to Him because I want to be perfect first. But wait…perfectionism…that’s what got me into this mess! Jesus takes fallen humanity and glorifies it. He even gives us glimpses of this light and glory in our own lives, in order to give us strength for the times when we can see only darkness. Foreshadowing the Resurrection, Jesus shows us that in our humanity, in our woundedness, even in our sin He comes to us and gives us Himself so that we can be transformed by His mercy and forgiveness. This is the goal of the Lenten pilgrimage – to be transformed. To experience greater intimacy with Him, as did Peter, James, and John on the mountain, and to let His light penetrate our fearful hearts.

As I got out of the pool and got ready for work I thought of the last mystery, the Institution of the Eucharist. Hmmm…probably the Lord wants me to think about this whole fasting thing. I thought back to my time in the Chapel last evening. The soft flickering of the sanctuary candle made the shadow of the Cross bob up and down. Even though the light was coming from the right side of the Chapel where the Tabernacle kept vigil in silence, it seemed to cast its rays onto the center of the sanctuary where the Jesus hung on the Cross on the back wall. This was the answer to my question last night. Jesus already suffered for my sins. Was I trying to do it on my own? Was I denying that Jesus’ Passion and Death was enough for me? Was I telling Jesus that I had to suffer in a prescribed manner in order to be worthy?

This morning I welcomed again the graces I received yesterday, when He spoke truth to my heart. I was angry at myself for not suffering enough, especially compared to others. Underneath that was another question: am I enough Lord?…am I doing enough and suffering enough for you? If I had given up that power bar, it would have made me feel a little better about myself, as if I had “done” something for Him, and maybe even prevented the body image thoughts that were penetrating my time of prayer. But this was not of God! Jesus was asking me to sacrifice in another way; I was poor in spirit by obediently following my doctor’s orders and by nourishing my body that I have in the past denied–not out of a call to fast but out of fear of not being enough. This gave me the peace my heart desired; I knew this thought was from the Lord.

I begin this Lent with another kind of fasting. Yes, I am fasting, but not in the way most people are fasting. I am fasting from my will, from my passions, from my securities. I am becoming poor in spirit and accepting the Will of God. Yes, I will probably face feelings of guilt and shame about my body, especially around others who are fasting “more.” But what a perfect time to bring these lies to the Lord. I journey with Him in the desert this Lent and I choose Him over the lies and temptations of the evil one. I am not alone. He is with me, He is in my poverty, He comes to me in my brokenness, and He suffered and died for me.

My prayer is that all of you who read this are able to pray about your Lenten journey, that despite what others are doing for Lent, you recognize the places where the Lord is and is not calling you to focus. May our Lenten pilgrimage lead us to the Pierced Heart of Christ, the source of our salvation.

Maureen Smith

By Maureen Smith

The Gift of Life

By Maureen Smith

Today, as we celebrate the gift of Life we pray in a special way for the unborn children who are vulnerable to the threat of abortion. We also lift up mothers who have suffered from abortion or who have been pressured to do so, and that the rights of women may be respected – including the right to give birth to their child and the right to raise their children in a safe environment. We also pray for those who are involved in abortion and any attacks on the dignity of life, that the Lord will open their eyes to the gift of their own lives and those around them.

In today’s world we see so many attacks on life. We have heard most recently about the attacks on Christians in the Middle East and other atrocities. And even in our own country there are victims of trafficking, all kinds of abuse, domestic violence, euthanasia, mistreatment of the poor, the sick, and the disabled.

What can we do? What can I do? Where do we start and how can I even make a difference?

A simple answer came to me when I was visiting my family for the birth of my nephew. As I watched my sister, her husband, and their new son I was struck by the simplicity and the overwhelming beauty of life and love. I saw in the love of my sister and her husband the pouring out of the love of our Heavenly Father and the love of the Son returning it all back without reservation. Out of that love was born a new person, who embodies that love between them, as the Holy Spirit is created out of the love of the Father and the Son.

And if there could be so much love on earth, in one small hospital room, between three people…how much more does the love of God surround us? As my sister looked down at her son, just seconds old, the pain was now forgotten. Only he mattered. And she didn’t hold the pain against her precious little one. That pain only made her more in love with him, and the suffering only made him belong more intimately to her who had waited nine long months to hold him in her arms.

Isn’t this a reflection of the love of Jesus for all of us? After he poured himself out upon the Cross for us, he didn’t look at us with annoyance, shame, or guilt because we had “caused” him such pain. Rather, it only brought us closer to His Most Sacred Heart, and it only strengthened His love for each of us.

How precious must we be to God! How precious must you be to Him! Experiencing His love gives us the context to celebrate the gift of life and to reverence each life no matter the circumstance. Even the greatest sinner and those who commit acts of violence, even they are looked upon as precious, and they especially are deserving of our love and prayers. So must we dare to love! Without reservation and without counting the cost we love even those who have hurt us. We can love them because they too are children of God.

I realized the truth of each person’s preciousness in the Eyes of God and how close He keeps each of us to His Heart as I looked down upon my nephew, only a few minutes old. The Lord will never let go of us even when we feel abandoned and alone. For any of you who have felt that you have failed God, remember the mother who does not cease loving her child when he cries as an infant, or when he screams and has temper tantrums as a toddler, or when he gets in trouble or struggles with addiction as a teenager, or when he loses his job as an adult, or even if he fails to be there when she is dying. Her love is always and forever.

How much more then is the love of God, who loved us into being?

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