My latest painting in progress features a pomegranate to represent the Immaculate Heart. Why this particular fruit? The first, best answer will receive a framed print of the finished painting. Put on your thinking caps! Go to Painting in Progress on the menu bar to see the image.

An excellent resource on news of the Church in Ireland. You can also follow their editor, Michael Kelly on Twitter — @MKellyIrishCath
Irish Catholic newspaper

My Mother's Grace products at Cafe Press

Our Lady of the Lilies and other images are available on earrings, key rings, mugs, and other products at Cafe Press. Click on the red type to follow the link.

The Benedict Inn is hosting its first ever Girls Night Out March 23, 7-11 p.m. Enjoy an evening of girl time while supporting a good cause — the Julian Center! Jewelry making, mini manicure, massage, T’ai Chi, scrap booking, and much more. I’ll be there, and hope to see some gal pals. Please spread the word for a good turn out!
Benedict Inn Retreat and Conference Center
1402 Southern Avenue, Beech Grove
317-788-7581 ask for Dema
www.benedictinn.org

The story is told here in the Indianapolis Archdiocese newspaper The Criterion. I am indebted to John Shaughnessy for telling my story with such accuracy, and to my friend Mary Jo Gremling for scanning these articles so that I could post them to the web. The story ran on two pages and appears in two PDF files as page 1 and page 2. The Criterion, November 18, 2011 “I See Her Everywhere” pg 1 The Criterion, November 18, 2011 “I See Her Everywhere” pg 2

Still contemplating last night’s meeting of Indianapolis area Catholic artists at St. John’s downtown. So much talent and devotion in a small room! To hear Father John say that beauty will save the world was affirming for all of us. Please pray for this fledgling group as we attempt to use our work to reflect the light of the Son to our city.

I’ve updated the calendar on my website (mymothersgrace.com) to include the significant memorials and feast days of the Blessed Mother as well as other important dates in the Liturgical Calendar. I’ve included a few of my favorite saints, too. If you see any error, or have anything you’d like me to add, please let me know. Just click on the link in the post. If you would like to subscribe to my website, the Subscribe to Posts options is just to the right of the calendar.

In just nine days we arrive at Ash Wednesday. This sacred day marks the beginning of Lent and the suspension of Ordinary Time.

What is Ordinary time? Ordinary time is observed in two segments, from the Monday following the Baptism of Our Lord up to Ash Wednesday, and from Pentecost Monday to the First Sunday of Advent. The combined length makes it the greater part of the liturgical year.

What makes it “Ordinary”? The term, like so many in Catholicism, comes from the Latin – ordinalis – which refers to ordered numbers in a series. The weeks in Ordinary Time are numbered and represent the ordered life of the Church. The Gospel which begins Ordinary Time will present either John the Baptist’s acknowledgment of Christ as the Lamb of God or Christ’s first miracle, the transformation of water into wine at the wedding at Cana. Ordinary Time indicates the time of Christ’s ministry, the time he walked among us as the Word Incarnate.

But is that all there is to “ordinary”?

Last month I became an Extraordinary Minister of Communion to the Sick. That means that as a lay representative of the Church, I can administer the Eucharist to those who are unable to attend mass. I perform this ministry in local nursing homes. The first time I heard my official title, I had to chuckle. The definition that comes to my mind when I hear the word “extraordinary” is the one most common in modern usage: that which is beyond what is usual; exceptional in character, amount, extent, degree.

I certainly don’t feel uncommon or exceptional when I take the Eucharist to the seniors suffering from dementia or physical deterioration. I feel humbled by their trust, their gratitude, and their faith. Even those who are not able to consume the communion wafer will grasp my hand for prayer. One elderly gentleman won’t let me leave without giving me a kiss on the cheek. I feel less like I am dispensing a sacrament to them and more like I am receiving grace from them.

And I realize that in the Church, the term Extraordinary Minister refers to a lay person, one who is not ordained, one outside or additional, having a special, often temporary task or responsibility. But I have to admit, the secular definition gives me something to which I can aspire.

So does Lent. In the 40 days that we meditate on the Passion of Our Lord, we are called to look at our lives in a way that is beyond the usual. The ending of Ordinary Time propels us into a season when we contemplate the most extraordinary love and sacrifice imaginable. I’m glad I have 40 days to focus on something that is exceptional to that amount and degree. I only hope I can even begin to wrap my heart and mind around it.

Wishing you a space for grace in your life today,
Kate

Mary TV Medjugorje

Receive the messages from Medjugorje and other celebration of Our Lady at this site

The child is mother of the woman. Forgive me if I apply a gender twist to Wordsworth’s line “The Child is father of the Man.” Taken from the poem “My Heart Leaps Up,” this line speaks to his childhood awe of nature’s splendor, a sensation which has stayed — and, he emphatically hopes, will continue to stay — with him his entire life. Paraphrased more loosely and less in context: the child in us knows what we truly love, and we must honor that and be guided by it.

The Child is Mother of the Woman

As I approach my 56th birthday this month, I look at the significant choices I have made in my life recently and see how all of them were rooted in childhood dreams or desires.

I had one Catholic parent, but I was not raised in the Catholic church and had little exposure to it. But before I even started (public) school I began to “play nun” by putting a towel over my head and kneeling to pray by the night stand next to my bed. I made a “rosary” by taping two toothpicks together to form a cross and then taping them to a string of my mother’s beads. Had I ever seen a rosary before? I have no memory of it. How I even knew what one was or how to use it still remains a mystery to me.

In a long and winding way I left the Protestant church of my childhood, and in my mid-30’s joined the Jewish community for many years. (The reasons for that are deeply personal and a long story for another day.) But in 2009 as my mother lay dying and I sat by her bed, helpless and grief-stricken, I found myself swaying back and forth reciting, “Hail Mary full of grace, the Lord is with thee…” Two years later I went through RCIA and, with the support of my loving Jewish husband, “officially” became Catholic. My friends and family were surprised, but for me it was as though I had finally caught up with that little girl who knelt next to the night stand with her mother’s beads in her hand.

In August of 2011 I retired from a 32-year teaching career. I can’t tell you any specific reason why I left other than I just knew it was time to do something else. With the support of my loving husband, I began to paint — pictures of the Blessed Mother. These paintings, which you see on my webpage, became note cards, and, with the addition of two more paintings and more text, will become a Marian devotional book. Somewhere in the box of keepsakes I took from my mother’s apartment after her death is a hand-made book of notebook paper folded in half and stitched down the middle, covered with large scrawling letters and somewhat abstract drawings. It is my first book, Fun on the Farm, which I created for my grandmother when I was four. Katey Duffy wrote and illustrated a book for her Gramma Belle. Kate Duffy Sim is writing and illustrating a book for her Blessed Mother Mary.

Last Friday I loaded up my Puggle, Duffy, a stray we adopted two years ago, into my station wagon, and the two of us made a six-hour round trip to northern Indiana. Well, on the way home we were three. In the back seat with Duffy was Daisy, another Puggle, recently fostered through the good people at Kentuckiana Pug Rescue. The entire story is not fully known, but through abuse or neglect in her former home, Daisy sustained an injury that required amputation of her left front leg. Feel righteous anger for the unnecessary pain she endured, but don’t feel sorry for her now. This plucky little Puggle runs up and down the stairs with more agility than her four-legged counterparts.

This is our third dog. Mazel Tov, a Bichon-Poodle mix, came from a puppy mill eight years ago. With the support of my loving husband, I’ve brought two more “throw away” animals into our home. Three dogs may seem like a lot. Unless you knew me “when.” From the ages of 9 until — well, until now, actually — I have been a dog lover. In school I checked out every library book I could find about dogs and memorized them until I could identify all the AKC registered breeds. I drew pictures of dogs. I wrote stories about dogs. I fantasized about owning a kennel. I’ll stop at three dogs, but the child inside me laughs with delight when I see those cast-off creatures romping happily in our yard, or sleeping securely in my husband’s lap. Look at the photos at the top of this post. You can see the same joy in my face today as in 1971, when my father captured the image of my play with the neighbors’ puppies.

None of these interests was a passing childhood fancy, but all were indications of personality type, talent, and, yes, I believe God’s plan for my life. And, if you noticed, I included my loving husband’s support in each of these endeavors. We all have unfulfilled childhood dreams that are waiting to help us grow into the adults we are meant to be. Encourage your children in their dreams. Remember who you were when you were young and what burned as your heart’s desire. Find people who love and believe in you and will give you space to grow. Listen to your inner child and let it parent you.

The full poem by Wordsworth is below. Enjoy.

Wishing you a space for grace in your life today,

Kate

William Wordsworth – My Heart Leaps Up

My heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky.
So was it when my life began;
So is it now I am a man;
So be it when I grow old,
Or let me die!
The Child is father of the Man;
And I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety.