Blessed with Regrets

I like to listen to people. Almost as much as I like talking. I like meeting new people and listening to their stories of all the adventures they've ever had. I like to hear what they think is important. I like to think about how they tell a story, not just what they say. I like to dwell on what they don't say. And then I like to pray for them. And yet, as poignant as their joy is, the thing that stays with me longer than their faces, are their regrets.

When I was younger than I am now, and far more naive, I wanted to make it my life's goal to live my life without regrets. For the most part I have for which I am eternally grateful. My latest goal is to not be bogged down by the things I regret like the people who tell me their stories. Now I know I won't make it through life unscathed by my regrets but now I want to live for my hopes and remember that I am so very blessed.

Funniest questions I've been asked...

I tend to get asked some pretty funny questions- "Are those all your kids?" "Do you know where babies come from?" "Why do you have to make everything so complicated?" These are some of my favorite questions that I've been asked...

...On a first date:

• So you're like a REAL Catholic?
• Are you allowed to have an opinion on the Pope?
• You look Irish- are you sure you aren't Irish?
• Why did you move to Texas?
• Things are different in California- do you know how different they are?
• Are you sure you're from California?

...On a  job interview:

• What do you think it will be like working in the secular world after working in a Church?
• What is a cronut?
• How tall is Barack Obama?
• What is the story of your faith journey?
• Why did you choose Ave Maria? 
• Who is the first President of the US and what is he known for?
• What it's like working at a Church?

...In a grocery store:

• Are you on some kind of special diet where you can only eat apples?
• When are we going to go to City Hall and get married?
• Do you understand Spanish?
• I don't think you realize how much fish you are getting- are you sure you want ten pounds?
• Are you related to the Kinney's?
• It looks like you're going to have a party of apples?

...While swing dancing:

• So what is wrong with the male population that you aren't married?
• How can you say there's a god when people get their behaviors based upon genetics?
• Will you keep on dancing with me because you make me look good?
• Do you think that a seminary helped to form your Father in a psychological background?

To the Woman that I Aspire to One Day Become

A letter to the woman that I aspire to one day become,

I pray you remember this period of your life with fondness.  As I am constantly reminded, I am sure you will remember me now as a part of the past where you exhibited great naivete and youth, tempered with an unusual amount of inner strength and wisdom.  I also pray that you do not recall this period with regret.

I pray you are not alone, that you are surrounded by family and friends, and that you never stopped writing, creating, or adding spice to the lives of all those around you.  I pray you are still bottled sunshine. 

I hope that you’ve published something.  I hope that you wrote a song that you performed in public.  I hope you finally painted that image from your dream.  I hope you have continued to hope.

I pray you've helped a stranger.  I pray you have made the world a better place.  I pray you have never caused anyone to love God less, and if you have, that you’ve gone to extreme lengths to make amends.  I pray that you learn to admit when you are wrong.  I pray that you still have not learned to tell a lie convincingly.  I pray you have acquired some level of humility. I pray you work hard and even if you get nowhere, you do so honorably in this life for the sake of the next.  

I pray you no longer have nightmares that make you too scared to sleep.  I pray you have learned to sleep with the door open.  I pray you’ve learned to take care of yourself, even when there is one more thing you need to do first. 

I hope you found someone who will love you for everything that you are and adores everything about you that you will never be.  I hope you have someone who completes you and who makes you a better person and who every day reminds you how very special you are, in a good way.  I pray you do the same and more for him.  I pray you and he work night and day to get each other to heaven, kicking and screaming as that may be. 

More than anything I pray that we are still following God as the only beacon in this world of dimly lit candles.  I pray that you have made yourself as small as possible so that the Holy Spirit can shine through you.  I pray you are a light. 

And if nothing else, my dear future self, I pray that you have never ceased to pray. 

May God grant you wisdom and peace.  May God never let you cease to learn.  May God be with you. 

-Gabrielle

Observations on Love

A friend of mine asked an interesting question on facebook, "How do I show someone how much I love him?"  My first response was, "You can't."  

Love is something that cannot be said.  Like the song says, it is more than words.  In order to tell someone I love him or her I must first show him or her that I love.  Don't get me wrong- I love to hear and be reminded that someone loves me.  At the same time actions can negate those words far more thoroughly than the inverse.  I believe that lots of people love me, regardless of whether or not they are actually aware of it.  I have a friend who volunteers a lot at my work (I work at a Catholic Church) and this week he referred to me as "dear"*.  

My nephew interviewed me a few months ago, asking me what it was like working at a Church.  I told him that it was a lot like being the hands of God here on earth but that being God's hands also meant that I got my fingers caught in doors a lot.  That is still love.  

I also know that small acts of love for complete strangers may me cry.  Some friends of mine carry around bottles of water and canned instant soup with the pop tops to give to homeless people on the side of the road.  My parish has been collecting food continuously for our small Farmer community.  And yet, it will never be enough.  

There are so many people out there that want to be loved and spend way too much time, money, and energy in order to feel love or something that masquerades as love, but really, if they tried loving another person, they would feel so much better.  Love isn't about receiving- love is about giving.  God is love.  And until you have God as your center, everything else will be consistently befuddling.  "Our hearts are restless until we rest in You."  

And yet, He still loves us.  He doesn't have to tell us- we just know.  So, the short answer to my friend's question is, "Treat them as God sees them... and God will do the rest."  

*In case you are wondering what my reaction to this was, I almost fell out of my chair laughing.  

Jokes by the Captain

Question:
What do you get when you mix Star Wars and Florida?

Answer:
Darth Gator

A reminder

Tonight is the last night of the year and I'm staying in.  It seemed fitting as I am exhausted and I have been running a lot lately. And yet I have much to be grateful for.

I have many people who love me and enjoy spending time with me.  I have a huge loving family that cares enough to tell me how they feel.  I have a cat that likes to get my attention by whacking my hang.  I have some truly amazing friends.  I have someone who likes to keep my hands warm.

Now patience has never been by favorite virtue but I would have to say, for tonight, that would be enough.

For now.

Let's see what 2014 has in store.

May God bless you and may He grant you many happy returns to this wonderful day.

Jokes by Captain

Question: Who in the Lord of the Rings Universe has lost all his legos?

Answer: Legolas

Please note: TGL figured this one out before he spilled the beans.

You are Amazing

You are amazing.
You are so beautiful.
God made you just the way you are on purpose and with purpose, planning, and commitment.
He has forgiven you before you have fallen and He has loved you throughout all the ages.
In all of creation He made special plans for you.
You are loved for who you are, all that you are, and everything you will never be.
You are completley, insanely, and irrevocably His. 
He claims you as His own and He is Yours.

The First Post of Advent

As most of you are aware, I give a lot of thought into my blog posts.  And by "thought" I mean "thoughts" and by "thoughts" I mean about half a million of them.  In that line of thought, I actually had some foresight about what I wanted my first blog of the 2013 Advent Season would be.  I was going to make it holy, and moving, and absolutely perfect.  Seriously, it would bring tears to your eyes.  Wilfred Owen, Fyodor Dostoevsky, and James Barrie would look down from heaven and smile with a bittersweet smile and they would all be touched.  Really.  Don't believe me?  Well, I guess we'll leave know now that you DON'T believe me.  Foolish unbelievers.  

Anyways, my point was, this was supposed to be about Advent- and maybe it still will be.

I thought about titling this post, "Cooking Adventures with the Gabbie Lady" but that would be forgetting the importance of the Liturgical New Year.  Instead, I decided to be honest.  Today is the day that most of my friends are meeting my new beau.  I know, it's an old fashioned word, but I aspire to be old fashioned in my language, if not my thoughts.  By which I am still referring to my intro paragraph.  *mental image of fleeing thoughts running away from a gigantic thought monster that is picking up the smaller thoughts and mangling them in his giant claws as he raises them to his mouth before laughing maniacally and-* ANYWAYS, where was I?

Ah, yes.  I was terrified.  While I was slicing and dicing tomatoes and avocados for a "Sasha and Me Salad" (directions to be included at a later time) I was imagining all the ways that they wouldn't like him, or he wouldn't like them.  And I'll admit my first reaction wasn't to ask for God's intercession (although it would take an act of God to make that group behave) but to promise everyone all the ways I would get even in the days to come if they scared this one into the seminary as well.  

I was very focused on my worries, instead of on my salad.  Don't worry, I didn't cut myself.  I tossed in Parmesan, a small tad of garlic, olive oil, and balsamic vinegar.  I tasted it.  It still needed something.  Why not some lemon juice?  That would keep the avocado from browning and it would give my salad a nice kick.  Then I tasted it again.  Still not right.  So I added more of all the addins including the lemon juice.  Tasted it again.  Grrrr.... not right.  I am not accustomed to messing up on a recipe that I INVENTED.  I tossed in some more lemon juice and looked down as I drained the last of the bottle and realized that this was not a normal bottle of lemon juice.  This was a bottle of honey and lemon used to put in hot water to cure sore throats.  And thus, I was very annoyed.  

That's when I decided that my focus was not in the right place.  In fact, I was pretty sure I was approaching the whole situation wrong.  And that is why I am writing about Advent.  This is a time of reflection, of forgiveness, of spiritual growth and of patience.  All of these should be most reflected upon oneself, at least in my case.  

And so I say rather sheepishly, Lord, thank you for allowing me to ruin my salad with honey to remind me that You are my rock and that everything else will fade into obscurity.  My salad wouldn't last a week no matter what but I'm sure the story will live on, if I were brave enough to tell it tonight.  Relationships are important but no relationship is more important than the one I have with You.  All will be well as long as I'm with You.  So thank You, for reminding me of what's most important, in this first week of Advent.

-The Gabbie Lady                                                

The People: On the Banks of the Rivers of America

I enjoy talking to people, but even more than that I enjoy being talked to.  If you leave me alone for twenty minutes in a public place I will know the life stories of at least two separate people.  Give me an hour I will know how their parents met, the names of their children, how they ended up here, and what they studied in school.  Give me an afternoon and I will know where they were born, how they met their spouse, what they wanted to do when they grew up, and every pet they ever had- complete with how they got them, what they named them, and how they lost them.  Give me a day I will know the name of their first love, a funny story about every sibling that they have, what they hate about their life now, and what they would like to do to change it.  Some people collect stamps while others collect cars.  I've even met a few that collected swords, shoes, records, scientific instruments, books, and even kids.  I collect stories.  It seems everyone has a story to tell.  Everyone has something they'd like someone to know but they feel as if no one is their to listen, or if they do have someone to talk to they feel as if that person doesn't understand.  I wouldn't be able to do what I do if people felt like they were always being heard. 

My favorite teacher in high school told me that there are a set number of things about people that just are.  Some of them everyone else can see but that you are blind to, while other things only you can see.  Some things everyone can see -including yourself- and some things only God can see.  I'd like to add that there are some things that only complete strangers can see. 

I met a very nice woman, sitting on the banks of America at Disneyland while we were saving seats, awaiting the eventual arrival of Fantasmic.  She told me that she was here for her one year anniversary with her husband, her daughter, and his daughter.  She seemed very down to earth and extremely conservative so I assumed that she was widowed.  

After a few hours of conversation (yes, the wait for Fantasmic is usually this long, but completely worth it) she mentioned her ex-husband.  I didn't say anything because although it surprised me, it was not unusual in this world.  Normally when women discuss their ex-husbands they are bitter, angry, longing, and frequently they speak with a tinge of regret.  She was unique in that she did not have any of these characteristics- instead she was just sad.  Still, I didn't ask.  Believe it or not, as nosy as I am, I don't actually like to pry.  I like to see what people want to tell me when I am meeting strangers.  

About two hours later when I was discussing that people tend to think I am older than I actually am (she had mistaken my at the time ten-year-old sister and twelve-year-old brother for my son and daughter) she brought up that she had that same experience once.  I chuckled because I was seventeen then and I was pretty sure that was one of the funnier instances of mistaken age I had had in a long time.  

She said that once she had been mistaken for her ex-husband's mother.  I thought that was odd because she was very pretty, fairly young, and didn't seem to act particularly old at all.  She mentioned that someone at a photo mart had lost her photos and she had gone a little crazy.  I don't pretend to understand people who go crazy at stores but I didn't comment.  She said that they had lost her pictures and they could not be replaced because they were the photos from her son's funeral.  The son she had lost with her first husband.  The child that made it so hard for her to smile when she thought of her first husband.  Suddenly it all made sense. 

Sometimes I hug complete strangers.  Sometimes they are surprised and sometimes they don't say anything. Sometimes we just need someone to remind us that we are loved- not because we did something to earn it or deserve it, but because we are.  Sometimes we show our scars on our faces, on our hands, on our bodies, where everyone can see them.  But the worst scars, that cut the deepest and are the hardest to see and to heal, are the ones on our hearts.