Category: My Life

Cathy

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I met her when I was 14. She was my boyfriend’s little sister but she was nice and friendly and she became my friend. We became family when I married her brother and when it was time for her to get married I was her matron of honor. She walked happily down the aisle with Eric to You Are The Sunshine of My Life by Stevie Wonder. I will never forget it because it was so like her doing life her way. Years later I found a designer who made a necklace out of the song and sent it her. She sent back a note that she couldn’t believe I had remembered. She would invite me to absolutely every family event they had. I remember one conversation:

“Umm, thanks but I think it would be awkward to go consider I’m no longer married to your brother.”

“Did you divorce me?”

“No”

“I didn’t divorce you either. You’re my sister-in-law and the mother of my nephew and my niece and you are invited to all family functions.”

Then we’d laugh and tell secrets that only friends that know each other well can tell about things that are really none of our business.

After a three year battle with cancer I got the call from my son that Cathy was being sent home to hospice. I contacted my mother-in-law and asked if I could go and see Cathy, understanding that they have a big family and I didn’t want to intrude. She said of course I could come. I walked into a room filled with people and went to hold Cathy’s hand. She said quietly, “Susie, I have missed you.” I said, “I’ve missed you too and I came to tell you I love you.” She answered that she loved me too and that she was tired and she was sorry but she didn’t want to fight cancer anymore. I told her I understood and that I didn’t want her to feel as if she had to host me as a guest, instead I was there for her. We talked about God and heaven and she said she had seen glimpses as God was leading her spirit little by little. We told a couple of secrets that made us both smile and then her brothers came into the room and it was the four of us like it was when we were teenagers. We talked about where life had taken us and old stories about the past. We brought up phone bills, and FaceTime, and how much trouble we’d be in if were teens today and we laughed like we used to over stupid stuff. Cathy took a sip of ice water and through half-closed eyes she said to me, “See what I have to do to get us all together like old times?” I replied, “Who knew all those fights with your brothers would make you give cancer a run for its money?”

My sister and my friend is passing from this life to her next one and as I write this my heart breaks. It breaks because we distance ourselves from painful events and while we do, there is the unintended casualties of souls that are wounded. It seems necessary to separate out, to stop the pain in the moment, and are in the end are such pitifully poor decisions. To turn away love from one heart because another has been careless with your heart can never be right. I’m thanking God for second chances and a deep friendship with a wonderful woman who loved me deeply and who is forever embedded in my heart.

 

Estranged

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I got the call today I didn’t want to hear but I knew that it would come

It came by way of text. My father had passed away. When you are estranged no one calls you when they are sick, or in the hospital, or dying, or dead, or buried, and truthfully you can’t expect it because that is what estranged means. It means you’re alienated.

He made it to 80 and like his daughter he lived his life his way. Many broken pieces, a mother he called formally, Doña Julia, so you kind of get the picture just in this sentence alone of what his childhood must have been like although he never spoke of it. Then off to a war in Korea at the age of 17 where the United States Army taught him to be a paratrooper. You didn’t dare sneak up on him while he was sleeping or you risked being hit. He’d wake with such a fright, swinging and yelling. One can only imagine what his mind carried.

I’m learning to live without you now
But I miss you sometimes

My mother called him a Disneyland dad. He took us on crazy adventures and didn’t make me comb my hair and I loved him for that. I ended up in a hospital in Mazatlán at the age of 9 or 10. I had been given money to have a good day while my dad worked in our hotel room. I was told under no circumstances was I to eat off a street vendor, I was to come back to the hotel to eat. I didn’t listen and ended up violently ill with scary high fever.  He taught me to not respond to men’s whistles because I was not a dog to be fetched. He taught me to value myself and when I didn’t he was deeply disappointed and said so in no uncertain terms, and when he was exasperated with me or disappointed he called me, “Doña Julia”, so, there you go, another piece of the puzzle. He also taught me to respect others and to argue a point without taking it personally. Politics was a forefront of discussion and he was a die-hard Democrat. When my son was two he nicknamed him Gaddafi because he said he was a dictator and we were all subjects.

The more I know, the less I understand,
All the things I thought I figured out, I have to learn again

We loved each other like a dad and a daughter do and I can rest assured in that fact. We made up our own dance moves to The Hustle back in the day. We sang at the top of our lungs to Black Sabbath and Led Zeppelin songs as we drove down a winding mountain road at night, and then for fun turned off the lights to the car so that it was pitch black to see how we would make it down the hill “one way or the other”. He was into teaching his children no fear and no tears. We would squeal with laughter and we were taught to be brave. We ate McDonalds in the back of a Piper while he taught us to fly. I fell in love with Kiss in 6th grade so when they came to the LA Coliseum he took me as he was cool like that. He didn’t even make a scene when the drugs were being passed down the aisle, it was the 70’s and there was still a sense of community. He just shouted for me to pass it on down, and to not be scared or bothered. He made me realize that I could set myself apart but I would have to choose. He taught me I had control of my world and I could run it as I wanted. He held me accountable to that for sure and it broke my heart to bits when I disappointed him.

I’ve been tryin’ to get down
To the heart of the matter                                                                                                                                       But my will gets weak
And my thoughts seem to scatter    

Somehow I knew this day was coming. I got a nudge this past summer. “If you’re going to go and see your dad you should go now.” However, I didn’t. What is passed is past and the freedom that comes in forgiveness allows you to walk away not without a sense of loss but with a peace that it is what it is and life isn’t always a fairytale with a neatly wrapped bow at Christmas and you honor people’s decisions.

But I think it’s about forgiveness                                                                                                                                  

Today as I wrap up the Christmas shopping and do a few last minute things at work, there are tears and there is a sense of deep deep loss. He would hate the tears but love the fact that I feel a loss. It would serve his sense of justice and because I am cut of the same cloth it serves mine as well. My mother said not to think too much. She said he also had a responsibility to mend a fence but  I know that broken people don’t and stubborn people don’t and somehow I have to figure out which one I am because we are all in process to the end.

There are people in your life
Who’ve come and gone
They let you down
You know they hurt your pride
You better put it all behind you baby
‘Cause life goes on
You keep carryin’ that anger
It’ll eat you up inside baby

Thanks Don Henley for putting it in perspective.

 

Confirmation

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I am having lower back pain due to a pinched nerve. Some days it’s so severe that it hurts to put one foot in front of the other and it feels like needles are being stuck in my back. I was in so much pain one day that I walked over to the Chiropractor across the street from my job to get an adjustment. I had cute sparkly heels on. His assessment came quickly and clearly.

“Fortunately the inflammation is contained on one side. Get out of the heels for a few months and allow the back to heal and you’ll be fine.” 

I’m Mexican, heels are our trademark. Surely, there is something more to this back pain than heels. Surely there is. Heels are just too simple of a solution.

I know! I have to pray for a healing because obviously my faith isn’t strong enough.

When the pain became unbearable I went for a massage. Tisha said,

“Heels aren’t good for you.” 

“Ugh! I know but flats hurt my feet.” 

Lord, I know you have a healing for me. Please give me some relief.

I got it! I’ll go to Dr. Deldin and see if he has a magic pill that will make me get better.

Dr. Deldin said, “Bend your knees every time you go to pick something up, even if it’s a piece of paper.” And then in a sterner voice he added,

“And get out of those damned heels.” 

Which actually, the heels I was wearing that day were super cute AND I feel like he cursed them. They aren’t damned at all. So I prayed for my heels and for those haters of heels.

However, I am still waiting on a word from the Lord regarding the healing of my back.

Vikki, my sister from another mother, said, “Are your migraines back? The Lord told me to pray for your ache and I thought it was your head.”

“No, not my head, my back.”

“You’ve been hurting for awhile. What’s up?”

I go through the whole scenario with her to which she responds. “You’re crazy. I’m swamped at work.”

That’s her way of saying, you already heard the truth so just quit it.

Monday my back hurt so much I wanted to cry but I had cute heels on, wedges because those are more comfy.

And so I keep praying for my healing and a confirmation from the Lord as to what to do.

How about you? What are unwilling to face facts about?   

In Time

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Last October I was given a vision of my next step in ministry. I couldn’t wait to see it fulfilled. I began to research, to ask questions of those I knew, and to make plans. Each time I got ready to launch something got in the way of the plan and it was stalled. I wasn’t frustrated just chomping at the bit to move forward. God’s timing is not like our own and so I waited.

My husband began to see the vision of what I was going to do and began to pray with me. Then he began to change the ideas I had. This is when the test happens because the question becomes,

I had my own ideas, I had my own lists, I had my own plan but what happens when they aren’t where we are going in ministry?

Well, as I always say,

Submission isn’t submission until we disagree. 

So I got on board with the vision of the house, I began to input where I was asked. We launched last night, prayerfully, considerately, and mindfully, a leadership team. You see, my vision was to make a path to ordain women into ministry. My husband challenged me to think broader. Together we forged a plan of ordination for all people. We gathered our combined resources and gathered wisdom and materials for a clear path. There are 15 of us in the beginning stages of this new phase of our ministry. There were 7 women which was still important to me. Now I get to watch it all unfold. I’m excited and glad to have waited for proper timing and direction.

Sometimes things take awhile. Even though we may have a vision and it seems clear, the path isn’t always how we think it should go. I would prayerfully ask you to be mindful of this and to wait for God’s timing.  This isn’t the time to push forward your own agenda over that of the church in which you serve. A pastor friend in Arkansas preached on the Baptism of Commitment. He said,

Are you committed to your own agenda or are you committed to your leadership? 

That’s a great question to leave you with today.

Pursuit

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Walking along Broadway in Nashville, Tennessee you get to see pursuit of a dream. As we meandered about what I call night clubs and what they call Honky Tonks, I listened to the music streaming from each door until we found a sound we liked.

We stepped inside this place and listened to the music. It was about 3 pm and the band was wrapping it up as the new band was arriving. I became fascinated with what happened next and to be honest paid more attention to people watching than to the music itself.

The band came in each carrying their equipment. They set their equipment down by the stage and grabbed some bottled water the establishment had for them. It was hot. Over 100 and in Nashville there is extreme humidity as well. They walked back and forth to their cars hauling all of their equipment including a seat for the drummer. They were happy and talking and in full roadie mode. Only they weren’t roadies, they were the musicians.

As the band that was playing wound down to their final song I wanted to see the transition. A bucket was passed around for donations for the band. I was told it was how they get paid. The band quickly went into wrap up mode, grabbing their cords and instruments and walking them off of the stage. Their audience who I guess knew the drill, were asking each of them, “Where are you going to next?”, to which the bassist replied pointing, “I’ll be at such and such in about an hour playing with so and so.”, and so on. These musicians were in pursuit of a dream.

I looked at my husband and said, “Do you see that? They left everything behind and are hauling their own equipment and playing wherever they can find a gig for whatever amount is in that bucket in the hopes of a bed, food, and the chance to be discovered for their talent.” My husband smiled, ever the Pastor, and said, “I know how that works. I left a business making just over $200,000 a year to go to a place I had never heard of called Los Banos, CA, to reach the lost for whatever was in that bucket each week. When you have a calling you pursue it no matter the cost. I left my parents, my comfort, my home and went to preach the gospel. The Lord provided for us. Once I didn’t have enough money for groceries and diapers and a stranger at Walmart paid the bill for me. I will never forget those early days.”

The band finished loading their equipment then came back in and sat behind us at a table and divided up the money in that bucket and rushed off to their next gig. The new band set up and began to play and I discovered a new admiration for those who are willing to go the distance and do whatever it takes in pursuit of their callings trusting that somehow things of the world will work out. It was humbling to say the least.

 

Lost Things

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Last week I went shopping with my Starks, Louisiana cousins. We met up for lunch and some girl time. My husband was spending some one on one time with his dad so this was perfect. Around 6 pm I decided to give my husband a call to see how he was doing. I opened my purse to grab my phone. It wasn’t in its usual spot so I began to dig around for it and quickly discovered I didn’t have it.

I stopped and thought back to if I had put anything down and the only time I set anything down was in the dressing room so I quickly walked back. I mean quickly.

No phone. I retraced my steps throughout the store. No phone. I went to the Customer Service desk and asked if anyone had turned in a phone. “No Ma’am.” I searched my Apple Watch to see if I could find the Find My Phone app. No app. I went to look for my cousins. Still not in full panic mode, but close, I borrowed the car keys to see if I had left it on the seat. No phone on the seat, no phone on the floor, no phone between the seats. I stop and say aloud, “Lord, I need your help.” I look through my shopping bags. Nothing. I go back in the store and my cousin calls my phone. It has a loud ringer. Nothing. I call my husband from her phone and give him instructions. “Please call Verizon, tell them I lost my phone. Then get on your Find My Phone app and log in as me and find out where my phone is.” I’m a little more worried at this point, because a) my husband isn’t great at these things and b) I have lost a $400 phone.

My husband calls me back three or four times because he can’t figure out how to do what I’ve asked and then he finally calls back to give me the address of where my phone is pinging. It’s at a shop we were at earlier, which is now closed and doesn’t have an answering machine. He says calmly, “Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out.”

My cousin, gets on Facebook and sends the owner a Private Message but in the meantime, I offer to buy us all a Starbucks, yes you guessed it, app on the phone has the money on it, luckily I have some cash, and we head back home. I’m worried about the phone. I am with family, I am with my husband, it’s not a matter of connection, it’s the cost and the fact that I don’t remember when the last time I backed it up to the computer and how reliable is the cloud anyway?

The next day, we get up but guess what? No cell service because in Starks Louisiana Verizon doesn’t work, only AT&T. Go figure. So my cousin calls the store and they aren’t open yet. It’s a 45 minute drive there but my husband wants to stop by his mom’s house first. Ugh! I get ugly. “Sure, let’s go to your mom’s because your phone isn’t missing.” Yes, not my proudest moment by far.

My cousin calls us on the way to the store, yes he skipped going to his mom’s, and says she has spoken to the owner and the owner is checking for my phone. She tells the owner it is either in the dressing room or on the counter. Sure enough, it’s fallen between a gap in the chair in the dressing room. Big shout out to La-Tee-Da Boutique for their amazing attitude and care. I walk into the shop about an hour later and the owner smiles big and says, “Hello Susan! I have your phone.”

Whew! What a relief. I walk out after my sincere thank you and thank the Lord. “Lord thank you for your help and your kind people.” The Lord says, “I know about lost things.” Ignorant me, I smile and say, “Yes, I know!” Totally oblivious about the lesson.

Then Chris Hodges preaches at Grow16 about lost people and how God must feel frantic about them and how the Lord needs us to do our job. In that moment my eyes filled with tears and my heart begins to pound in my chest, as they are doing as I’m writing this, and the tears begin to stream down my face, as they are doing now in an airport waiting for my flight.

That frantic feeling I had retracing my steps, trying to figure out where I had left them, how it grieved me to lose something expensive, that is nothing compared to what God lost.

Folks this was a phone. This was a phone.

We’re talking about lost people. Chris Hodges said how sad it must make God when we pray sometimes. I repented in that moment. “Lord, I’m sorry. I prayed for your help with such clarity for my phone and although I pray for the lost, I don’t pray with such fervency for lost souls. Please forgive me. I totally missed your cue about lost things. Totally felt relief that you cared about my phone without looking at the big picture of the lesson you were trying to teach me. Thank you for loving me enough to bring a message to me three days later that taught me exactly what you were trying to tell me. You never give up and I am grateful to you.”

Okay, people are staring at me here at the airport terminal as I cry and write so let me leave you with this:

Matthew 15:1 Now the tax collectors and sinners were all gathering around to hear Jesus. 2 But the Pharisees and the teachers of the law muttered, “This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.” 3 Then Jesus told them this parable: 4 “Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Doesn’t he leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? 5 And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders 6 and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.’ 7 I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent.
The Parable of the Lost Coin
8 “Or suppose a woman has ten silver coinsand loses one. Doesn’t she light a lamp, sweep the house and search carefully until she finds it? 9 And when she finds it, she calls her friends and neighbors together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost coin.’ 10 In the same way, I tell you, there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.”
The Parable of the Lost Son
11 Jesus continued: “There was a man who had two sons. 12 The younger one said to his father, ‘Father, give me my share of the estate.’ So he divided his property between them. 13 “Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had, set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living. 14 After he had spent everything, there was a severe famine in that whole country, and he began to be in need. 15 So he went and hired himself out to a citizen of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed pigs. 16 He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything. 17 “When he came to his senses, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have food to spare, and here I am starving to death! 18 I will set out and go back to my father and say to him: Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. 19 I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired servants.’ 20 So he got up and went to his father. “But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him. 21 “The son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ 22 “But the father said to his servants, ‘Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. 23 Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate. 24 For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ So they began to celebrate. 25 “Meanwhile, the older son was in the field. When he came near the house, he heard music and dancing. 26 So he called one of the servants and asked him what was going on. 27 ‘Your brother has come,’ he replied, ‘and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound.’ 28 “The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. 29 But he answered his father, ‘Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. 30 But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!’ 31 “ ‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. 32 But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ ”

The Order Of Things

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Joe Quatrone Jr.  

A self-described “Old Guy”, meaning a man I hold in esteem who has retired from ministry spoke this wisdom in a conversation.

“Before there can be mercy, there has to be judgment.”

It was a drop the mic moment. I took it home and mulled it over. I often relate things to my experience as a mother. It’s quite true that when my children misbehaved I corrected first and then made them see what they did wrong. Okay makes sense but…

I then had to reconcile that with

James 2:13 For judgment is without mercy to the one who has shown no mercy. Mercy triumphs over judgment.

In order to show mercy we have to have judgment. Mercy comes through judgment. It’s a great revelation. It may not sit well with the “don’t judge me Christian” but it isn’t biblical. Mercy triumphs over judgement but judgment is first.

It’s as my husband explains, giving mercy out of order is like giving a cure for a disease you didn’t know you had. There is no recognition of the healing.

 

God is God

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“Remember the things I have done in the past. For I alone am God! I am God, and there is none like me. Only I can tell you the future before it even happens. Everything I plan will come to pass, for I do whatever I wish.”
‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭46:9-10‬ ‭NLT‬‬

I have to tell you yesterday’s church service second service lingers on my heart. Praise and worship with our pastor singing that last song, a powerful message, and that altar call….

This week I had a powerful conversation with one of my children. One that made me extremely proud and one that I had prayed quietly and fiercely for for years. I openly welled up with tears over the resolution to this dilemma. It brought such incredible hope and such powerful faith. I am grateful for reminders daily and especially with our gathering each Sunday.  I get home, put my pajamas on and realize that no matter what, my Father is still on the throne and He is still surprising me daily with the details he takes care of.

There isn’t a single prayer you pray that The Lord is not working out. I pray peace over your situation and resolution over your worries today. May this message bring you immense hope.

I Wasn’t Raising A Boy

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How often did you hear me say, “I’m not raising a boy. I’m raising a man. There is a difference.” You’d roll your eyes but you’d move in the direction of a man.

I remember when you were little and I would cuddle and snuggle you and kiss you fiercely and you’d squeal with laughter then run and put on a football helmet and want to play tackle football. I’d tell you girls didn’t play tackle football and you’d say, “Girls are BOR-ING”.

I remember you’d spray “Monster Spray” all around the house so that we’d be safe.

I remember when you’d wear your He-Man sword tucked in the back of your shirt everywhere we’d go and what a hassle you’d give me in the car seat because you had to have it at hand. I remember the time you reached for that sword on the way to the car because you’d spotted a dangerous bullfrog. You took your left hand like a traffic cop and said in a low almost 4 year-old voice, “Stop right there mommy until I tell you to move.” You moved your sword into position and stood between the bullfrog and me and said, “Ok, pass behind me. I’ll protect you.” I ran and squealed, and you said, “Aren’t you glad I’m your Superhero?”

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I could have been impatient as I usually was, but I wasn’t raising a boy, I was raising a man.

I remember when I’d tell you to help your sister up the stairs so she wouldn’t fall and how you would very seriously take that task and the others I gave you as you grew. Things like opening doors, walking on the outside, being aware of your surroundings, being polite and respectful.

I remember when you were 15 and had a learner’s permit and were so willing to drive me to the grocery store. You ran out ahead of me, jumped in the car and started the engine. I stopped at the car door and you yelled, “Get in!”, and I didn’t move.

“You have to come and open the door for me”.

“You’re not my girlfriend.”

“No, I’m your mom and that’s more important.”

“ARGH, OK”

It would have been easier to give you a pass and laugh it off but I wasn’t raising a boy. I was raising a man.

You came and opened the door and to this day it delights my soul to see you open the car door for your wife. It isn’t the big accomplishments that make me proud to be your momma. It’s the little things that make you a gentleman, a godly man, a good man that make me proud to be your momma.

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The conversation, just you and me, at Ryan’s went like this:

“You’re going off to college and you have four years to figure out your passion. Find out who you are and what you want to do because I will not be the mother who receives the phone call that you’re just not happy with your life, a wife and two kids later. At that point my allegiance will have to switch to your wife and your children and it will break my heart but I will have to do it.”

So when I read Ann Voskamp’s blog on recent events in the media, I have to be honest and say I cried. I cried because we still say ignorant things like, “That’s how men are”. The fact of the matter is no, that’s how we allow them to be. Teach them to be godly, how to treat women, teach them to be guided by Jesus.

Click Here to read. Her blog is meant to be read and digested. It is well written and it is right on. 

 

 

Those That Came Before Us

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I was driving by what we in our town call “The Old Catholic Church”. For some reason I looked at it with fresh eyes. It was build in the 1920’s and was turned into the city’s Arts Council Building not too many years ago. I have entered this beautiful building to see plays, and musicals, and weddings, and galas but today I looked at it with a different perspective.

There once was a dream of building a house of worship there, a building dedicated to the Lord. People put resources together, prayed, and came up with a design. They must have  searched for a location centralized to make a beautiful place for a church service on a Sunday morning. And while I know that a building doesn’t make a church I wonder what those who helped build it would think?

Perhaps my heart was open as I had just received a postcard of a church for sale. Seeing that postcard made me sigh at the thought of another church possibly closing. I have traveled through Europe and seen beautiful cathedrals why does this old Catholic Church move my soul today?

As more and more churches close in America and pastors leave the pulpit by the thousands, perhaps for me, this church stands of a symbol of what we are facing in the future.