Triumph.

This is the word for today’s reflection. 

Triumph.

We all know that phrase, 

“Don’t judge someone until you’ve walked a day in their shoes.” We’ve all used it at one point in our lives, and there is a great deal of truth to it. 

Ask anyone why family is important and you will get various answers, but you will not get many arguments that the statement is untrue. We value our roots and stand up for our family – so often when they don’t deserve it – because our sense of belonging within a community is so important. To be grounded in community is a foundational understanding of human beings. 

I went through a phase once when I was a little girl in which I would only wear dresses. Day and night – you could bet that I was wearing a dress of some kind, probably with a little bit of pink or sparkle.

I find the Bread of Life Discourse to be fascinating. How incredibly mystified the disciples and the others gathered must have been at Jesus’ teaching. 

“Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood…” 

Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world!

A lamb… why a lamb, Lord? 

Today, I could focus on so many verses from Scripture, whole books, actually, or even the whole Bible. After all, Jesus sacrificial and saving act is the culmination of the New Testament right – the new fulfilling the old? 

There are so many “nice pictures” that we entertain throughout Christianity. Being Christ’s hands and feet is one of them. Cue sentimental music and smiling idealistic faces serving the poor…Don’t get me wrong, it is absolutely necessary that we do become Christ’s hands and feet, but there is a reality we must understand if we choose to serve Christ by serving others, and Christ exemplifies this when He washes His apostles’ feet.

I don’t know much about sheep. But I do know one thing, thanks to my college roommate who grew up on a sheep farm and emphasized by the time her dad had to pry out a little ewe’s head from a wire fence (poor baby)

Growing up, I absolutely loved school. I was that kid. The one who said, “goodbye” to her teachers at the end of the day and did her homework during recess. For some reason, I felt at home in the classroom. My teacher was a second parent.

I am so Thomas sometimes. Like, severely Thomas. I once asked God to send me a sign of roses, not once or twice, but three times. Yes, three (gosh, that’s so embarrassing). I’m so grateful though, that in times of need, God has been as compassionate and tender as He was with Thomas.

There are a few things in the world that terrify me – deep water and tight caverns.  For a long time I couldn’t wrap my mind around why these things in particular scared me. I mean, public speaking? No problem! Spiders? Eh, don’t mind them… But, why deep water and caves?

I am so Thomas sometimes. Like, severely Thomas. I once asked God to send me a sign of roses, not once or twice, but three times. Yes, three (gosh, that’s so embarrassing). I’m so grateful though, that in times of need, God has been as compassionate and tender as He was with Thomas. 

She was sewing industriously, and yet seemed lost in deep contemplation. “What are you thinking of?” the young Sister asked. “I am meditating on the ‘Our Father,’” Therese answered. “It is so sweet to call God, ‘Our Father!’”… and tears glistened in her eyes. (Story of a Soul, 184-185)

“I will make something out of nothing!” 

Imagine the reaction of a restaurant if I, quite suddenly, exclaimed this while leaping on top of a table. I’d imagine there would also be the flailing of my arms and a wide expression on my face… In true dramatic fashion, I would probably effectively convince everyone that I was crazy. 

What is it about the concept of eternity that freaks me out? Shouldn’t I rejoice that the joy I will (please Jesus!) find in Heaven will fully satisfy me forever? Am I afraid that it won’t be what I thought it would be? Or am I just afraid of what I don’t know? Cause you bet your bottom dollar I have no clue what eternity feels like.

It takes my breath away — that clear, starry night sky, an abyss of wonder. It always calls me to bask in God’s glory. And sometimes become entirely consumed by how it could possibly be.

“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other word would smell as sweet.” 

Juliet Capulet, that poor girl caught in the skirmish of warring families and some really awful growing pains, had a pretty profound point. What is in a name?