Mercy: Not for Sale

Hi all,

This is an interview I did on Smart Catholics. In it, I share how mercy has changed my life and how it can change yours too.

I feel like that sounds like an ad for a wrinkle cream or a magic diet pill but I’m really not hawking anything (unless you want to buy my book, Simple Mercies! But I know you probably already did that because you love me and you want to see me on Oprah someday. Okay, I know Oprah is not on network television anymore but I don’t really know who the cool talk show hosts are and I guess that’s because it’s not 1984 and now everyone has a podcast. I really am just trying to keep up).

Anyway, the point is mercy isn’t something I can sell. It’s free. It’s yours. And practicing it, I dare say brings better results than diet pills or wrinkle creams.

Oh, and if you haven’t bought the book yet and want to support my dream to be on Oprah and also go back to the eighties here’s the link: https://www.amazon.com/Simple-Mercies-Works-Mercy-Fulfillment/dp/1681924536/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=simple+mercies&qid=1632184275&sr=8-1

Mercy works. Try it.

Love you all ~ Lara

How to Not Feel so Bad

I can’t sing any better than I can do math. Still, I love music. Recently I was thinking of the song, “My favorite things,” sung by Julie Andrews in the 1965 film adaptation of the musical, “The Sound of Music.” I was thinking about it because right now life is wrought with many of my unfavorite things: death, illness, doctors appointments, moody teenagers, indecision, dirty counters, and the swirl of controversy over everything from Covid to the environment.

Sometimes it all gets to be too much. Truly.

As this was the case recently, I found myself obsessing about hydrangeas. Every week this summer I cut two blooms to enjoy inside. It made me happy to see the plump pink flower amid the inevitable sprinkle of paper and crumbs on my counter. Last week, I cut the last two remaining good blooms. And, in the midst of planning funerals and rescheduling appointments and moving my son into his new apartment, and trying to keep up with the ordinary minutia of my day, I felt an urgency to buy more hydrangea plants.

I couldn’t stand the thought of not having any blooms to greet me the following week. More than ever, I needed this simple quiet joy.

Eight hydrangea bushes later (and an exhausted husband that doesn’t understand why I can’t just find joy in something that doesn’t involve him doing manual labor in the hottest month of the year) I’ve thought a lot about being joyful even in the midst of trials.

Part of me wondered if I was looking for joy in the wrong place since I know that lasting joy comes from God not the delicate blooms of flowers. Then I decided that was like ignoring the lifeboat in the middle of the storm. Right now, for me, hydrangeas are a lifeboat.

They are among a few of my favorite things.

I know they won’t solve a single problem or relieve a single ache of my heart. Yet, they remind me how important it is to find joy wherever I can and that no joy is too small or unimportant to make a difference. They remind me that life is precious and we are not promised tomorrow’s bloom. The hydrangeas remind me that even when they will go dormant in the next few months, that like happier days, they will return.

Even during troubled times, perhaps especially during troubled times, it’s important for us to remember the joy that is promised to us as children of God. “So also you have sorrow now, but I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice and no one will take that joy from you,” (John 16:22).

We have so many opportunities in daily life to experience genuine contentment. In nature and our neighbor, we are reminded that joy isn’t in the perfect; it’s in the perspective. Very often, it’s in the simplest things. Look for it. Hold on to it. Plant it if you must. It’s a great mercy. You are worth whatever effort it takes.

We don’t have to let our worry and hardship spread with the tenacity of strangling weeds. We just have to hold tight to the seeds of our faith that remind us of the promise of his everlasting joy. Until that day, try to remember a few of your favorite things.

And, then you won’t feel so bad.

Hi all~ I felt like a kid waiting to unwrap presents on Christmas day, waiting for my husband to plant my new hydrangeas. Of course, life being life-y, it started raining while we were planting. Determined, we soldiered on (me, in my hooded rain jacket, and him, in his wet muddy clothes — because he refused my merciful offers to get him proper rain attire). When I saw lightning strike a few houses away, I figured the Lord was teaching me patience– again. Like most things, no matter how messy, wet, or tiring the work was, it eventually got done. But now where there was once mud, joy blooms!

I would love to know what brings you joy right now? If perhaps, Simple Mercies is among a few of your favorite things, or even among your “good enough” list of things (I’m not proud), please consider leaving a review on Amazon!

 

 

Mercy on the Climb

This isn’t my usual post day or my usual post. I am writing under the pretense of inviting you to a book signing this weekend because really that’s what I should be doing to sell books and I need to sell books. But that isn’t really why I am reaching out.

Mostly, I just have noticed that life feels extra hard right now. I hesitate to share that because I don’t want to be a downer. Besides, I am not down. My family and I just returned from an adventurous trip to Maine where I hiked and climbed mountains (and slid down steep rocks on my bottom so I wouldn’t have as far to fall) and I rode a bike (and sometimes walked a bike) through Acadia National Park. I felt brave and discouraged and scared — sometimes all at once.

I thought about God a lot, and what it means to have faith and trust and just take one more step on the climb and how going down a mountain can be just as hard as going up. Either way, sometimes we need someone to catch us.

I don’t know what to expect of middle age or if it has anything to do with age at all, but I know so many people who are losing people they love – to age, to illness, to what feels like complete randomness. And with the ravages of COVID, life once again feels too fragile, too precarious, like one wrong step is all it will take for us to fall.

I lost a dear, dear friend, this past week. Someone my family traveled to parks like Acadia with. We awed at the Grand Canyon together and at our growing children too. And, now he’s gone. Another friend I’ve lost in this abyss of the middle years. And, none of it makes sense to me. Too young. Too precious. Too final. Read more

Book Launch: Simple Mercies

There was an amazing article in The Florida Times-Union this past Sunday about the year I spent doing works of mercy. Please check it out: https://www.jacksonville.com/story/news/local/2021/05/21/turning-40-led-jacksonville-woman-year-service-writing-book/5091085001/t

The author did such an amazing job capturing the intention of the year and of the book, Simple Mercies

I spoke at my home parish this past Saturday and celebrated with a book launch reception afterward. It was one of those magic nights that made all of the hard days seem so far away. If a picture captures 1,000 words, then surely these capture the joy, gratitude, and love that made my heart simply happy!

 

 

Happy Easter and Happy News!

Sweet friends,

Today we rejoice! And, after the last year we had, that is such happy news. Jesus has risen. 

The gift of Easter, beyond the white lilies and choruses of jubilant Alleluias, outside the pastel dresses and the wide-brimmed hats, sweeter than the chocolate in wicker baskets or the smiles of delight they invoke, is the resurrection of the Son of God which makes our rising possible. It takes the black ash of our suffering, grief, and sorrow and wipes it clean.

And, while it often seems like our newspapers are filled with dread, I have an Op-ed in the Florida Times-Union that is filled with Jesus! Please check it out. And, if you don’t have time because you are busy rejoicing with your dear families, I can sum it up in one word — alleluia!

https://www.jacksonville.com/story/opinion/2021/04/04/guest-column-easter-reminder-life-rises-ashes/4838311001/

Love~ Lara

 

If/then: God Loves You

Every January we are inundated with messages of losing weight to prepare our bodies for summer as if it’s as complicated as training for an Olympic sport instead of simply shedding coats and slipping on shorts.  To be considered “ready” we are encouraged to lose weight, pump iron, and color ourselves caramel.

The message is clear.  The preparation is all-important.  Where you are now is clearly not good enough.  You aren’t worthy of summer vacay unless, until, all that urgent striving sculpts you into the picturesque airbrushed model on the magazine cover who hasn’t eaten in three years and works out five hours a day.

I don’t know if it’s more demoralizing or depraved, but many of us buy into this if-then mentality.  We do it in an array of scenarios: organizing our house before we can host friends, getting the promotion before we can pride ourselves on a job well done, or securing the relationship before we cement our self-worth.  The perception that our arrival is more important than our pursuit is most damaging in our relationships with God.  We often think where we are in our spiritual journey defines how much we please him, how much he loves us, and how worthy we are of his mercy. Read more

New Year – Same Self

I can’t help but shake that feeling a new year brings that I’m supposed to “do better,” “improve,” or “make it count.”  Bold directives that remind me of the anxious anticipation of waiting for my turn in a grade school relay race. Messages that don’t make me want to run as much as they make me want to run away.

In these heady days of a new year, I feel uber-aware of every action, or worse, every inaction.  It’s a similar feeling to the relief of confession. I love the clean slate but I also want to lock myself in the house or duct tape my mouth closed so I won’t risk sinning again. Once we delve into the grit and grind of life, both a new year and a clean soul can easily tarnish like the best of intentions.

Only, I’m not a new person despite the change on the calendar. I sat down to work and immediately googled Lab Rescues of Florida. I am not planning on getting another dog in 2021, but somehow the urge to read the personality traits and health history of every adoptable dog was a pressing priority. Likewise, while I intended to work at my desk with ergonomically correct posture this year, I slouched on the couch hovering over the keyboard, spine twisted like a buttery breadstick. By mid-afternoon, I passed my water cup in lieu of the curdle of reheated coffee. None of it felt very ‘new.’

Every year, each family member picks a word to guide or inspire them for the next 365 days. (Last year, my word was brave. I learned that was like praying for patience and I spent the year facing all kinds of situations that terrified me.) When my husband asked me about my word for this year, I was hesitant. We debated the merits of the words “freedom,” and “embrace.”  I was afraid if I chose “freedom,” I would have a slew of rescue dogs living with me by the year’s end. Read more

Walk in the Sun

As a teenager, I often went on long walks at the beach with my best friend. I can’t tell you what we talked about because I’m sure it was inappropriate and since I am of a certain age, I don’t really remember anyway. Going on walks meant we could scout the locations of cute lifeguards we knew or wanted to know. While we had no intention of actually speaking to the bronze boys on the towering orange chairs, or even so much as making eye contact with them, just knowing they were there gave our journey a purposeful feel. Years later, I had no idea I would be walking on that same stretch of sand with my husband while participating in a three-day, thirty-mile pilgrimage from Jacksonville Beach to the Our Lady of La Leche Shrine in St. Augustine.

I had never done a pilgrimage so when I heard about the Baby Steps Camino put on by the Order of Malta, a Catholic lay religious order, I thought that my experiences as a teenager walking past miles of strategically spaced lifeguard chairs gave me the necessary foundation for the 10-mile daily walk.

It felt decadent to cast aside adult responsibilities for a day in the sun. My husband and I prayed the rosary, walked in silence, and talked about all kinds of appropriate things (although I can’t remember what they were.) We allowed ourselves to look for the occasional shark’s tooth and other treasures in the sand. We paused for a picnic lunch under the glory of the December sun. Most importantly, we pressed on. When we were hot, tired, and when my feet got wet and my toe got bloody, we just kept putting one foot in front of the other.  It’s a lot like what we do in life when we remember that our final destination isn’t of this world.

Read more

Editing Life

It was Sunday afternoon and I was sitting on the couch drinking my Kava Stress Relief Tea. I would explain why I was drinking stress relief tea but it’s still 2020, so I feel like certain things speak for themselves. An old friend called and even though I was right next to the phone I got so excited to speak with her that I spilled the entire mug of tea all over myself and the couch. Needless to say, the stress relief tea inadvertently induced a fair amount of stress (and mess, as well as possibly some third-degree burns).

I finally got the edits back from my publisher and I have been working furiously to finish them by my deadline. Editing is nothing like writing. When I write I feel as if I am creating something and when I edit it’s like I’ve become a psychotic serial killer cutting my carefully chosen words and obliviating their well-meaning existence. The hope is that I am creating something better, but like a serial killer, I am not quite sure if I’m just deluding myself. It’s grueling. Most days at least one eye is twitching, my brain throbs, and sleep is sporadic.

The purpose of editing isn’t meant to be sadistic though. It’s meant to make things better. In writing, and in our relationships with God, we have to let go in order to make space for something new. If you are like me, letting go is hard. We get attached to things in our lives. We get attached to our carefully-curated self-image, our jobs, our words, our plans, and the people we love. It’s a normal part of our story. Yet, what we sometimes fail to recognize is that the best part of our story comes after we edit. When we take out obstacles in our lives that our keeping us from God, we can draw closer to him. When we let go of what our lives are supposed to look like and how our relationships are supposed play out, we make room for new experiences and more authentic interactions. Yet, so often we are desperate to move forward, while at the same time refusing to let go of what keeps us stuck. It’s so hard to let go that we stay trapped in our same old story. I know letting go is scary. After all, I used serial killers to describe it. But with careful discernment and trust in God’s providence, you can do it.

Read more

Why Firewood Is the Perfect Birthday Gift

On my birthday, instead of getting diamonds, pearls, or even something useful like shower gel, I received a box of firewood. I was confused. I wondered, Is there a diamond wrapped in the box of firewood? Believe it or not, it was one of the more thoughtful gifts I have received from my husband. As I grow older or just grow, I want fewer things. The material becomes immaterial as I focus on creating moments that matter instead of curating a collection of stuff. Often, when reflecting on the busyness of the day, I realize how little time I spent with God. I figured if I could live more simply, I could live more saintly. So, I told my husband I want to live like people do on a farm. I guess the firewood was a more practical way for him to acknowledge this than giving me a tractor.

I don’t mean to disparage my lifestyle either. But sometimes conveniences designed to make life easier feel cumbersome. For one, buying in bulk is heavy. I need a farmhand just to load my car. And while I am grateful for medical care, my children have had more X-rays, CAT scans, and seen more specialists than seems plausible for healthy boys. On the farm, doctors would make house calls, eliminating tedious waits in an icy room with magazines about complicated crafts, intricate recipes, and impractical fashions. On a farm, folks only saw someone when they were dead, dying, or bleeding to death.

After listening to my conversations about farm living, my son told me he couldn’t do chores on the farm with a separated growth plate in his shoulder. I explained he could use his other arm, and like Gloria Gaynor, he would survive. I, on the other hand, would be like Eva Gabor on the ’70s sitcom Green Acres, if I actually had to live on a farm. It’s the concept of living simply that appeals to me. I have this notion that if I could pare down the complications of life, it would be easier to fixate on my goal for eternal life.

Here’s my list of ways to live more simply that don’t require overalls:

  1. Shop locally. While there are Amazon.com, mega-malls, and credit card points, there are also small businesses that are more interested in conversation than commission. One of the best things about shopping locally is that they carefully wrap your purchase in crisp white tissue paper and put it in a paper bag. I love that. It feels special like you just sold the farm to make that purchase.

 

  1. Buy what I need. The truth is we don’t need much. We need friendship, family, and fellowship. We need love and mercy. We need God and goodness. We need conversation and conversions. Other than that, we just need a toothbrush, a little food, and some good wine.

 

  1. Use what I buy. Waste is maddening. It feels gross, indulgent, and disrespectful. I am trying to be more conscientious by buying food grown on real farms—and only enough. One night, I bought one chocolate-covered strawberry for each of us. It was perfect and felt decadent to have just enough, instead of always having more.

 

  1. Offer thanks. There is so much to be thankful for and you don’t have to wait until Thanksgiving to acknowledge life’s blessings. If you don’t think you are blessed, go outside. Feel the sunshine on your face, or the rain. Feel the breath you inhale. Feel the gentleness of the wind. Feel alive with possibility. Feel the fullness that is gratitude.

 

  1. Light a fire. You don’t necessarily need firewood to do this. You just need a spark—something that gets you excited, people who make you feel warm, passions that make you feel purposeful. Birthdays are finite. It is important to live like it matters, so the people in your life know they matter.

In the end, whether you choose city life or green acres isn’t important. It’s the time you spend enjoying moments such as sitting by the fire with someone you love that matter. Those moments are the best gifts you can give and the best gifts you can get.

Hi all~ I wrote this post 100 years ago but since today is my 100th birthday I figured I would post it again. (I have decided to lie up about my age because then people are more impressed with how I look. Gee, she looks really good for 100.  No one ever says that when you tell them you are 48.)  Regardless of appearances or what number birthday this is, all I feel right now is gratitude. I am here. What a blessing that is despite whatever circumstances you find yourself in. On behalf of my centennial, it would make me happy if you did something today to celebrate the gift of your life. ~love, the birthday girl