This month, I get to celebrate a birthday, an anniversary, a funeral, and a Baptism. Four distinct snapshots of a life—my own and others’.
Birthday
It’s no secret that July is my favorite month: watermelon, sweet corn, sunflowers, bees, books, writing, hikes, pools—and very little structure on the calendar. What’s not to love?! In a way I don’t feel I’m able in other months, it’s fair to say I savor the long-lit, days. It also holds the tension of the very fleeting present in which I know these days don’t last and the knowledge that I have to enjoy while it’s here—the academic calendar rolls out, and once again our time feels as though it’s not our own. Not that it ever was, but isn’t it delightful to imagine that we have any effect on time?
I just finished another of Shannan Martin’s books, Falling Free (which was fabulous!). In it, she describes her rocky (and providential?) transition from hobby-farm-mama to industrial city-living neighbor, married to the chaplain of the local jail; where her neighbors often wear their lives on their sleeves and call her to solidarity with them in a way that offers a more beautiful view than she had hoped for. She describes this process in humble detail of the ways that God had seemingly called her down, and simultaneously picked her up.
“Living small is not about having less, but being less– less respected in the eyes of the world, less successful, less wealthy, less esteemed, less you. Less me. And more Jesus. Here, in this abundance of less, where more of us is stripped away, we’ll uncover the person we were made to be, the one created in the image of a God who sank holy feet in to our human mess.”
― Shannan Martin, Falling Free: Rescued from the Life I Always Wanted
Funeral
Last week we attended a funeral for a man who had adopted—and been adopted by–the organization where I used to work. Of all things, one of my kiddos had requested attending a funeral because she had no memory of having ever attended one. The man whose life we celebrated had no family to speak of, only friends and acquaintances from over the years. His funeral was held in the orphanage where he had grown up.
I was struck by the simplicity of the service, and his life all around. He was poor, absolutely. And yet, his life was rich in many ways. His days were often scheduled by meals and Bible studies going on around town. He got around on foot and public transportation. Given the amount of time he spent in churches and Bible studies, he had a love for Jesus and a pretty unfiltered commentary on the services he attended. He held in high esteem the restaurants and organizations that put on holiday meals for those who otherwise wouldn’t be able to afford them. He was a loyal friend and completely himself.
Anniversary
In light of Shannan’s reflections and our friend’s funeral, I cannot help but wonder if the edges of my favorite month are perhaps a bit too, shiny? Where is there room for surprises beyond reveling in what I know? Do I allow God to come along side of me with hidden gems, or am I satisfied with my own, curated life in which I know what to expect and what I deem as lovely?
Maybe that is the challenge for my next trip around the sun, our next year of marriage—to savor each season, even those I’ve written off as mundane, dark, structured, or generally less glossy, so that I might be delighted in ways that I don’t expect.
Baptism
Recently I’ve been reading through the Catholic Spiritual Gifts Inventory, by Sherry Weddell and marveling over her explanation of Baptism—and all Sacraments of initiation– and how we are explicitly given the very particular charisms and gifts of the Holy Spirit that we will most need in our lifetime on these occasions. As I look ahead toward my nephew’s Baptism this weekend, I wonder how God will surprise and delight him with over the years. Specifically, what charism awaits only him, that he might be equipped to offer his best self to God and to the world?
Whether extraordinary or simple and humble, charisms are graces of the Holy Spirit which directly or indirectly benefit the Church, ordered as they are to her building up, to the good of men, and to the needs of the world.
–CCC, 799
Sneaky Truth
This is phenomenal news and this angle has evaded me until this summer.
These perspectives are enhancing my own right now. I’m grateful for the space to mull them over in my heart and mind this month. I wish the same nourishment for you. Here’s to calling deep upon the particular gifts that we might build up the people of God all who surround us, and that we might be also be rescued from the lives we always wanted.