Author: marybethweisenburger
Jump Those Prayer Journaling Hurdles! Hurdle #1
Have you always wanted to try prayer journaling but have had reservations? Are you uncertain how to begin? You’ve come to the right place, sister! This is #1 of 6 objections/concerns I hear frequently when I discuss prayer journaling. Let’s jump these hurdles together, OK?
- This is just too weird. “Writing to God” could be something really foreign to you, I know. Many Catholics, especially those of us who are—(cough, cough)—middle-age, are unfamiliar with this notion of talking to God beyond using the prayers we were taught as children. During the twenty-plus years I spent away from the Catholic Church, years when I attended a Protestant church with my husband and children, I learned many wonderful things from my Christian brothers and sisters. One of those blessings was the importance of unscripted conversation with Jesus. They made it all so…simple. Uncomplicated. Personal. I had missed that lesson in my Catholic upbringing, and unfortunately, many from my era did too. Younger Catholics may find it just as challenging. Let’s face it: In a world that increasingly seems to barely recognize God, informal prayer can be challenging no matter what age we are. But through prayer journaling, informally conversing with Jesus eventually became more comfortable for me, and it will become more comfortable for you as well. After a few weeks, all of the “weirdness” will disappear, I guarantee it!
(Taken from my new book, “Praying with a Pen: The Girlfriends’ Guide to Stress-Free Prayer Journaling” available October, 2017. )
False Crawls
Question: What can live for up to 100 years, is known to be harmless to humans and moves no faster than 1 mph but can still scare the living daylights out of a grown woman who comes face-to-face with one? Answer: A sea turtle. Years ago, I was snorkeling in Hanauma Bay in Oahu while on an anniversary trip with my husband when I turned my head away from some lovely circus-colored coral and straight into the snout of a gigundous Loggerhead turtle. Even though I do believe he was just as surprised as I was to make up-close underwater eye contact, it was me (the supposedly grown woman) who let out a garbled, high-pitched scream through my snorkel and made a hasty, comically uncoordinated retreat.
Head on over to Catholic Sistas to read the rest of this Prayer Journal Pondering!
Monday Morning Chocolate
Watching the Kids (A Throwback to August, 2013)
We hugged, swiped a kiss and exc
hanged “I love you.” She hopped into her car, flashed a cheesy grin and waved at me with open-palmed gusto, like she did when she was seven. And then I watched her back out of the driveway and speed down the country road, headed to the big city and college life once again. She joins her older brother, who left the day before.
This leaving-for-college thing is never a smooth transition. It is a bumpy one, fraught with last-minute laundry and trips to Walmart for supplies, and overflowing boxes and second-hand furniture in the middle of the living room. When the run-up to a major change is filled with all this plus teeth-cleaning and haircut appointments, and getting prescriptions filled and oil changed, it feels too herky-jerky to me. There’s no time to just sit down, take a breath and do what I do best: watch my children.
I wonder if my kids will ever realize that my favorite hobby is, and always has been, simply observing them. I stared for great stretches at a time into their chubby-cheeked faces when they were babies, wondering what they were thinking. I watched them play every day, fascinated by the discovery and learning process they went through. As they grew, I watched them interact with their friends, gazed in awe when they mastered sports and marveled as they developed sunny, unique personalities. And when they were teenagers, I again often stared into their faces, wondering what in the world they were thinking.
I caught myself watching them a lot this summer, knowing that it was likely the last summer the four of us would be together on a regular basis. I noticed a shimmer of red whiskers in my son’s short beard, a testament to his dad’s genes. I saw my daughter’s eyes light up as she talked about the little ones she got to know at the daycare where she worked while on break. I liked watching her make plans for a new apartment with her roommates and watching him intently read a news article on his smartphone. When I booked a photographer to help slow the hands of time this summer, she artfully caught a true candid of them together—my daughter showing lively emotion, as is her nature, and my son displaying quiet curiosity, as is his nature. I was watching them at that moment, too.
This week I watched them leave home, amid baskets and boxes and piles of their possessions, the excitement of a new school year registering on their faces. My heart was filled with pride and delight and a pinch of bittersweet-ness. The days suddenly stretched before me, void of my children’s presence and the ability to watch them whenever I wish. But as I turned and opened the door to an empty house with a mother’s tears in my eyes, I reminded myself of the simple truth: they were doing exactly what they should be doing now—becoming capable, independent, compassionate adults. And I was doing exactly what I was supposed to be doing—watching them go about doing that.
Monday Morning Chocolate
You Are Known and Loved!
A Magnificat New Year
My palms were sweating like crazy. It was only my second attempt at the Sacrament of Reconciliation since returning to the Catholic Church after a 25-year hiatus. I stood in line at an unfamiliar church with unfamiliar people in order to sit across from an unfamiliar priest and confess my sins and struggles. Somehow I suppressed my overwhelming desire to turn tail and run, if only because I was concerned that my new boots would slip on the marble floor and I would end up doing ungainly splits in front of an imposing statue of Saint Joseph. This was not on my life bucket list. So I imagined myself breathing into a brown paper bag to calm down and I stepped into the confessional area.
Sisters, am I glad I did.
Read the rest of this post over at Catholic Sistas!
Be Patient with Yourself!
Good Morning, God!
Do you ever find yourself staring at a blank page when you try to prayer journal? Don’t worry. It happens all the time, even to people who have been prayer journaling for years (um, yeah, me.). Here’s one little secret to jump-start your writing when you’re stuck: Start with a greeting! You can use a simple salutation like, “Good morning, God!” or “Dear Jesus,” or even, “Hello Holy Spirit…”. One of these tricks is sure to break open the logjam in your brain and unleash a flow of thoughts.