El Santuario de Chimayo, New Mexico

Nearly 10 years ago, when I came to El Santuario Chimayo on pilgrimage, it was undergoing major restoration, inside and out. When I returned this past spring, I was impressed with sweet smelling, flowering trees lining spacious courtyards. Restored signage clearly indicates Mass times and Historic information.

    

Original window gratings and adobe bricks are left exposed in areas, to show the original building style.

A walk through the visitor’s center tells the story of how the Santuario de Nuestro Senor de Esquipulas came to be, the story of the penitente brotherhood and the early church in New Mexico. I reflect upon how much of that early spirituality still pervades the local and surrounding areas, even into Southern Colorado.

Today we are just in time for Mass. Father Casimiro Roca who has spent so much of his life devoted to the preservation of the Santuario is there with us. He now walks across the uneven flagstones with the assistance of a cane and a caregiver.

Outside, cattle graze in the valley below. Their gentle lowing makes me homesick for my little ranch. But I have given up my livestock for this life on the road. I smile at sweet memories and new adventures. From the upper courtyard, I can see the amphitheater below, in front of the shrine to Our Lady. The Stations of the Cross still meander along the river bank.

Today we are more inclined to check out the surrounding area. Tamales and hot drinks are sounding good, but alas, Leona’s concession stand is closed today. We continue up the road to see if we can patronize some of the local businesses that thrive during the tourist season. Maybe we’ll get some chile powder made from the famous New Mexico chiles, or blue atole – blue cornmeal which is  cooked into a delicious cereal or drink.

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Affordable Health Care? Who Is It Really Helping?

My friend's husband has a rare form of lung cancer.  He has never smoked.  He is a vegetarian.  They are self-employed, with two young sons.  Like many entrepreneurs, they make too much money to qualify for state health care and not enough to buy their own.  Then of course, there are the pre-existing conditions. 

So what about the so-called "Affordable Health Care Act"?  Out of funding for the Pre-existing Conditions Program.  What about providing treatment and working out payments?  Nope.  The chemo provider won't start chemo unless my friend can come up with nearly $10,000 up front.  Yeah, got that layin' around after paying for the surgery to remove the tumor and the hospital stay and the biopsy.  Right.   What about other programs?  Other states?  Other countries?  If only there was a sure answer.  

We have been praying for my friend and her family ever since we found out about the cancer.  Right now, though, my friend just needs moral support.  I hear out her fears.  Then she talks about escape.  Selling off everything and packing the family into an RV and full-timing it with whatever time her husband has left.  I go with it, for this is the very thing I am about to do with my own family.  We dream this dream for a few minutes, until my friend has to take another phone call.  I have to take my son to his baseball game.

The injustice of my friend's situation burns in my heart.  I want to lash out, but where?  I want to help, but how?  I pray.  I listen.  I reach out to my friend, wishing I could fix it, knowing I can't.    This is one of the problems that offensive Health Care Reform Act was supposed to fix.  It hasn't.  What now?

Run For The Wall - A Pilgrimage to Honor our Veterans

The flag line on the County Line Road bridge near Williams, Arizona, greets over 500 bikers as they begin their pilgrimage to the Viet Nam Memorial Wall in Washington, D.C.  For the fifth year in a row, veterans, bikers from Ash Fork, Prescott and Wickenburg, and family and friends lined up on the bridge to show their support to the group, which started out from Rancho Cucamonga, California early in the morning on Wednesday, May 15th.  Following two separate routes, one through the central states and one through the southern states, the groups met up at the wall on May 25th, to pay tribute to all Viet Nam veterans and those Killed In Action, Missing In Action and Prisoners of War.  They also journeyed to nearby Arlington National Cemetery to lay a wreath at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.

One blogger who participated and kept a daily log of the ride offers an account of her adventures and stories she picked up along the way here:  http://jensride.wordpress.com/2013/05/25/may-25-2013/  

My friend, Ellen, from the local American Legion, has been organizing the flag line for this event for 4 years now.  She invited me this year, thinking that my 10 year old son would really enjoy watching the motorcycles go by.  I found it to be a great opportunity to discuss respect for the American Flag, for veterans, pros and cons of having a military force, and love for country.  In spite of this stimulating conversation, the moment we got out of the car, he started checking out the parked bikes.  He quickly examined and evaluated each model and decided that when he grows up he wants a three-wheeler.  Sigh.  I hope he wears a helmet.  And rides slow.   

Run For The Wall, as Ellen put it, was started by "two guys out in California, to raise awareness of POW's and MIA's and help promote healing for Viet Nam vets and their families.  25 years ago the guys started this bike run to the Memorial Wall to honor their buddy who wanted to do it, but died before he could, so they did it for him."  It turned into an annual event.  What makes it different from other motorcycle events is the main rule:  NO ATTITUDES.  This is specifically a mission, a pilgrimage, to promote awareness of POW/MIA, honor and healing for veterans and their families and to remind the powers that be that there are still some that were left behind - and have not been forgotten.

A Pilgrimage To The Park?

A pilgrimage to your local park?  Why not?  It's close by, probably has some green stuff (ie., trees, grass, etc.), maybe some water (lake), and probably some picnic tables to eat your lunch at.  Maybe you should throw an old blanket in the car, just in case. 

Once there, take a few moments to breathe deeply, exhale slowly, then see what's for lunch.  Even a couple of rolls and a hunk of cheese can be a feast in these surroundings.  When you finish eating, close your eyes for a few moments and just let your mind drift, while you take slow, deep breaths.  Don't fall asleep!  

Now open your eyes and look around you.  See if you still have time for a brisk walk around the baseball field or other safe path.  Spend your last few minutes taking in the cool greens, the soft rustle of the breeze in the leaves, the still waters of the lake, the innocence of children playing in the playground.  Whatever your local park features, you can most likely use it to relax and unwind for a few minutes, especially if the price of gas is keeping you from venturing much further.

I enjoy visiting the local park wherever I happen to be.  No two are exactly the same.  Some have quirky, creative play areas and trails. Some have lakes and trees.  Some have swimming pools or bike paths or skate parks.  Parks also tend to be kid- and pet-friendly.  A community park reflects its community.

If you don't have the time or money for a longer journey, try your local park!

The Family Rosary

Lately my 9 year old has been wanting to say the Rosary as a family.  I am thrilled with this new development, as I have been trying to encourage it for years, but I wonder what has brought it on.  Naturally, he has several fairly nice rosaries, as well as some funky plastic ones.  He knows how to say the Rosary, as we frequently say it in the car (with or without his participation) and it is said before Sunday Mass at our church and at the holy hour we attend on Thursdays.  Yet, this family Rosary has been instigated at his request.

He does have a special intention - the healing of his 9 year old cousin who is having open-heart surgery in a few weeks.  But why this particular prayer method?  I can only think that, in addition to divine inspiration at work in his heart, all our family discussions, in which there are many disagreements, seem to meet in agreement on one thing - the power of praying the Family Rosary.  Thanks be to God!

The Many Details of Death

 

So here I am in sunny Southern California, where the temperatures are rising, the smog is settling in and the humidity is finally down to 59% (from 72% a few days ago).  I am just grateful that I can still breathe and haven't had to use the inhaler yet.  Ah, for the clear, blue skies and dry air of my Northern Arizona home.  I do love my morning walks to and from daily Mass, here.  That's something I do not get to do at home.  There, church is seven miles away and we only have "daily" Mass on Thursdays (and,of course, Sunday Mass).

Grief is an odd creature.  Mom and I finally came to accept and even respect many of our differences in the last few years.  We had begun a new direction in our relationship, I am sad that is over.  I find myself flooded with some of my happiest memories of her and am comforted.

I feel sluggish, sorting through her things.  Having to decide what to dispose of and what to keep is a burdensome task.  Many of her things, mom allocated while she was still alive.  But there are the clothes and shoes and books.  Miscellaneous and sundry.  Helping dad carry on and get back into a routine.  Helping him to take over those dozens of little things that mom always took care of.  And always just wanting to run away and sit on top of a mountain, with my back against a tree, eyes closed, listening to a stream of snow melt trickle softly down to a roaring river in a valley below.  Letting all my grief, frustration, anger and fear melt away with it.  Letting God refill me.  Sigh.  The meditation on it will have to do for now.  Back to work.

The Pilgrim Virgin of Guadalupe

A couple of months ago I was priviledged to participate in the pilgrimage of Our Lady of Guadalupe within our Mexican community.  Once a year, a couple from Prescott brings a life-size portrait of the Virgin to our small town and She visits a number of homes where we gather for a nightly rosary, singing and a snack or meal afterwards.  The food is always wonderful, the fellowship is comforting and the prayer time is liberating.  More than one person has remarked on the relief experienced after laying his or her troubles at the feet of Our Lady. 

This last visit lasted two months.  Though it was often difficult to drag myself out of the house in the evening, when all I wanted was to eat a simple meal in front of the TV or read a good book, once I got there the power of shared prayer and devotions worked its healing magic on my weary body and mind.

Now that the Pilgrim Virgin has moved on, I struggle to say my daily rosary.  The day gets so busy that when evening finally comes I am so tired that I fall into bed, reach over for my beads and maybe make it past the opening prayers before sleep overtakes me.  On days when we have somewhere to go, we manage to say the rosary in the car.  Living 50 miles from anywhere does have its perks.  Sometimes my best time to say the rosary is in the evenings when I am topping off water troughs for the animals.  The rhythm of the prayers, the cool of the mountain evening and the glory of the Arizona sunset just seem to lend themselves to meditation.  Even then, frequently the boy is pestering me to play cowboy squirt guns or throw the baseball with him.  Well, we keep trying.  And we are truly blessed!

Oh the Drama!

Maybe it's the so-called "alignment of the planets", as some say, or maybe it's just me, but there seems to have been a whole lot of drama going on lately.  Families have their own inherent drama, of course.  Someone's hurting, "well-meaning" others come in and stir things up and suddenly everything's out of hand.

In our church communities things get out of hand, too.  Disputes over bilingual Mass and Latin or not get as heated as immigration law debates.  Some cannot set aside their differences and agree to disagree, and leave.  It's sad in families, it's sad in our church family. 

The media pursues the sexual abuse issue like rabid hounds.  As though they've forgotton Jim Baker.  Or as though it's any bigger than taxpayer dollars going to big bankers to pay out bonuses to already overpaid executives.

Why are we so addicted to drama and the inevitable tragedy that accompanies it?  Where do we find the answers, for healing in our families, our church, our world?  All we can do is practice.  Practice Jesus' example of unconditional love.  Practice tolerance - of different languages, different opinions, different customs.  Practice spiritual discipline - attend Mass, receive Holy Communion, go to confession.  Pray the Rosary and the Divine Mercy Chaplet. 

We who are not politicians, turn over our anxieties to the Highest Power, and make our voices heard to our elected representatives.  We who are families, die with Christ every day for peace in our homes.  We who are Catholics, die with Christ to our own self-righteousness, for peace in our communities.  We can only do a little.  But if we each do a little, so much gets done.