It had been a while since I last visited my 97-year-old aunt. She lives with her son and her grandson in the foothills of the beautiful San Bernardino Mountains. As planned, I picked up my cousin Debbie and then drove to my tia Pilar’s house. While parking, both Debbie and I noticed a strange man watering the lawn. I immediately became an expert on people who are drug abusers. “This guy looks like a heroin addict!” Debbie was in agreement with my observation. I grabbed my purse and made sure that no valuables were left in the car. As we made our way to the door, the stranger greeted us. He was wearing a wife-beater tank and his arms were covered in tattoos; he was really frail looking too. He introduced himself as our aunt’s caregiver. “My name is Santos, because I am like a saint,” he said. “Oh, so you say you’re a saint?” I replied. Tia Pilar was sitting on her ottoman, waiting for us and asked if we could help her get her earrings on. Both Debbie and I could not accomplish this simple task. I set my purse on the table next to the ottoman and helped get my tia into her walker. As we were walking out I noticed a pair of sunglasses and my cell phone. I asked my tia if the sunglasses were hers and she answered, “No.” “Those are mine,” Santos replied. Pilar was still making her way to the car when she announced that maybe she should use her wheelchair instead. We called for her grandson Brian, and he came out to assist. While we were talking to Brian, another man was exiting the house. Debbie asked our aunt, “Is that Ruben (another grandson)?” Pilar answered, “No! I don’t know why he is here!” She was not happy about the situation. When the young man (Joe) was headed to his car I asked, “Who are you?” but either he could not hear me or he ignored me. Then he went back into the house to retrieve something and off he went.

We finally made it to the car and headed out to a Mexican restaurant in Redlands. We got settled in and the conversation was about my recent wedding. I wanted to share the blessed event with photos, but my phone was missing. I have the most ridiculous handbag with so many compartments; it took a while to discover that my phone was missing. I went out to the car, but still there was no phone. We ordered our food, but I could not eat because I knew for sure that I left my phone on the table. My tia suggested that I call the house, but neither my aunt nor my cousin brought their phones. I made the call from the restaurant and tia Pilar’s son Adam answered the phone. He told me that there was no phone on the table. I could not eat, besides I ordered the wrong meal (story of my life)! The mood at lunch was dismal and the conversation went from, “Don’t worry,” to “Do you think that guy took the phone?” When our food arrived, my aunt ordered cocido, a Mexican stew. It looked delicious and the serving portion could have fed half the restaurant. But my mind went back to the missing phone.

The Suspects

When we returned to Pilar’s house, I ran ahead of them and took the cushions apart where Pilar was sitting, but still there was no phone. Both Debbie and I were pretty certain that Joe or Santos took my phone. In a panic I called my daughter and told her the story. My daughter always puts a tracker on my phone. The last time my phone was stolen in Israel she tracked it to a city outside Jerusalem. “Mom, I never placed a tracker on this phone! Let me see what I can do. What is your Apple ID?” I did have the ID but it was in my phone. “I can’t help you! Don’t you remember it?” she sternly said. Of course, I had no idea what the Apple ID was.  In the meantime Adam was on the landline attempting to call Brian. “Where is Santos? Maybe he took my phone. Please call him.” Adam could not text Brian because he left his phone in the car that Brian was in. I was frantic and asked Debbie, “What should I do? Should I call the police?” Debbie said that it was Joe who took the phone and we needed to inform the police.

The Saint, Santos

Santos returned with a bouquet of fresh roses and a grocery bag. I could see through the plastic in the bag that he had purchased a variety of cat food. In my mind  Santos was not the thief. He truly is saintly. Who buys cat food for a cat that’s not even his.  And the flowers for my aunt was such a sweet gesture. So now that left Joe and maybe Brian.

The Police

My cousin Adam had a business card to the local sheriff’s because his bike recently had been stolen. Adam and my aunt got into a little heated argument. “I know Joe took my bike too! He should not be here!”

I was on the phone with the police. “Can I help you?” “Yes, I want to report a burglary!” I answered. “Okay, what happened?” the dispatcher asked. “My phone was stolen, and we know who took it.” “Well, ma’am, that’s not a burglary, it’s a theft.” “The name of the guy who took the phone is Joe, and he drives a gray Honda.” When those words came out of my mouth, I knew I turned into that crazed person, calling the police for petty theft. The dispatcher placed me on hold and told me that the sheriffs were busy, but if time allowed they would send someone out. My cousin Adam was certain that Joe took my phone as well. I stepped outside and said a prayer, “Dear God, please help me remember my Apple ID!” I called my daughter Sonja and between her and my husband Mike, they were able to change my passcode and lock the phone.

Brian

By the time Brian arrived, we all attacked him at the same time. “Please call Joe and tell him to bring my phone back! I called the police but we did not know Joe’s last name. What is his last name?” I asked. Brian looked at me blankly and said, “I don’t know.” In unison we all yelled, “How do you NOT know his last name?” I was worn out, and there was not a thing I could do. I looked at Brian and pleaded with him one more time. Brian, who has always oozed with charm, looked at me and said, “I’m going to get your phone back Lynda, I promise.” For some strange reason, I believed him. I kissed my aunt good-bye and turned to Brian and asked, “When?” Brian answered, “Today.”

Mea Culpa

When we got to Debbie’s house I needed to use the restroom. As I walked past  her dining table, there, in plain view  was my phone! I could not use it because it was locked. Thank God Debbie has a landline. The first call was to Pilar’s to inform her that I found the phone. Brian answered the phone, and I shared the great news. I heard him telling my aunt, “Lynda found the phone, praise God.” Then he hung up.

Now I understand the Confiteor prayer we say at the beginning of Mass. We strike our heart three times and say: “through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault.”

Eating Crow

If I could have gone through a drive-through with specialty foods, I would have ordered crow with a healthy portion of humble pie. I felt so terrible, and this all started with me judging Santos. The phone on the table was not mine; it belonged to Santos. Santos does help with my tia: he cleans the house, does the yard and buys her groceries. He is a recovering heroin addict and a living example of a successful rehab story.

My tia Pilar has always opened her doors to people who are one step away from being homeless. Though we may not agree with some of the characters that swing in and out of her front door,  she has provided a temporary safe haven for them. I came to the realization that she, too, is a saint because she’s trusting them to live in her home.

On the drive home I headed directly to our grandson’s baseball game. My husband Mike greeted me with these words: “Why did the San Bernardino Sheriff call me?”

My Prayer

Dear Lord, please forgive me for judging others because of their outward appearance. Help me to understand those who are struggling to find a place to live. Give me the heart of a loving servant, and remove the worldly attachment I have to my phone. Lord, I ask for Your forgiveness in this disastrous oversight on my behalf. I pray that my tia Pilar and my cousins would forgive me as well. Amen.

We Catholics are still in the midst of celebrating Easter. Yes, this is our longest liturgical season, lasting 50 days. Our readings have been from the first chapters of The Acts of the Apostles. This has always been one of my favorite books. If you are not familiar with the four Gospels, Acts may be challenging to follow. After the Ascension of Christ, Peter became the leader of the twelve apostles. He was a miracle worker who became a seasoned spokesman for the Christian community.

Simon Peter

Peter, also known as Simon Peter, was not always this holy depiction of Christianity. The Lord knew that Peter would deny Him not once but three times. The Lord also knew that Peter needed to be restored because of his cowardice. This is the reason Jesus questioned Peter about his love for Him.

I have been serving the Lord for most of my adult life. When I pray, sometimes I have doubts; at times I fall into a spirit of unbelief. Of course I dig my way out of this through prayer. Peter was an ordinary man as were the rest of Jesus’ apostles. God chose them because He believed in them. Our Lord knows when we are insecure and filled with doubt. Remember it was Peter who walked on the water, but as soon as he took his eyes off of Jesus he fell. As soon as we take our eyes off of Jesus, we, too, will fall. In Peter’s case Jesus was there to help him up. In our real-life situations, Jesus will be there to catch us. Sometimes it’s a simple loss of footing, but at other times we fall on our faces, causing spiritual injury to ourselves. Peter was headstrong and knew that through every testing he was being refined.

Matthew 18:21-22   New American Bible (Revised Edition)

God gave us a sound mind with a clear conscience. When we decide to step out of that zone and fall into sin, our conscience is clouded with justifications to convince us that the darkness we are about to enter has merit. Remember that old image of the Devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other? Once you give in to the Devil, your conscience is seared and you are no longer listening to the voice of reason. This type of behavior may involve substance abuse or deep-seated anger, which brings out a whole new animal. The Enemy fills your mind with warped power and gives you strength to hurt others; but you hurt yourself even more.

One of life’s lessons I’ve learned is to walk away from situations that are not my responsibility. I’ve come to realized that God will not use me to dissuade another person’s mind or situation. As much as we want to be loved by everyone, there will always be people who, for whatever reason, will not want to associate with us. Sometimes these persons are in your family. I have found that when communicating with these individuals via phone or text, the feeling of regret and piled up collateral grief keeps me hostage to their great disdain for me. So I decided that no longer will I give the Enemy the upper hand in this manner. My prayer has been constant: I’ve been asking God to help me love and accept them without having to deal with their years of weighty drama and hate. This simple prayer is helping me release the burden of guilt.

The Enemy loves to remind us that we are Christians and to criticize our behavior. A perfect example of this is an experience I had at the local Target. A man was outside the store with a huge sign of a picture of his dog. Apparently the dog was picked up by the pound, and he needed money to free  his beloved pet from being put down. This situation tugged at my heart, so I gave him the little cash I had in my purse. Three dollars was not going to get his dog out of the pound, but I wanted to help. As I handed the man the money, I said,”I truly hope you’re going to use the money for your dog.” Then all hell broke loose. The man’s tone changed, and he started shouting at me and accusing me of lying. Under normal circumstances, I would have ignored the stranger but not this time. “Take your stupid money back!” he yelled. With that I replied “Fine!” The angry man threw the money back at me, and as I picked it up I turned and walked away. From the top of his lungs he yelled out at me, “You’re a Christian, aren’t you?” His diabolical voice sent chills down my spine, but I never gave him the satisfaction of acknowledging his angry words.

How Unforgiveness Controls the Spirit

Have you ever wondered why some of our prayers are never answered? You pray, plead with God, wait, but still no reply. For years you’ve suffered the same fate, but have not understood the things that hold you back. Unforgiveness is the key to many of our unanswered prayers. Unforgiveness is characteristic of the Devil; once the seed is firmly planted in your brain, it sends waves of hatred, holding you captive by the pain. It’s a psychological stage four cancer; the emotional pain is all we think about. In reality unforgiveness has also been known to cause many illnesses.

“There is an enormous physical burden to being hurt and disappointed,” says Karen Swartz, M.D., director of the Mood Disorders Adult Consultation Clinic at The Johns Hopkins Hospital. Chronic anger puts you into a fight-or-flight mode, which results in numerous changes in heart rate, blood pressure and immune response. Those changes, then, increase the risk of depression, heart disease and diabetes, among other conditions. Forgiveness, however, calms stress levels, leading to improved health.”

Unforgiveness keeps us from the intimacy of drawing closer to God. As I was walking my grand-dog the other night, I received a text message requesting prayer from a former congregant. As I read the text, it triggered a feeling of animosity. This person (I’ll refer to her as Judy) because of her awkward personality she rarely got along with anyone in the ministry. She thought herself holier than the rest of us. Personally I did not care for her, and receiving this message aggravated my spirit so much that I did not want to pray for her. I caught myself in the act of unforgiveness. Did Judy bring on these feelings of anger, or was it something from my past that I had not dealt with? I have not seen this person in 15 years, yet she was still upsetting me! Why?

Unresolved Past

How hypocritical of me attempting to school others on unforgiveness when, in reality, I have the same concern. These sensitive, push-button issues are surfacing because I never resolved them correctly. I allowed my thoughts to get the best of me, and this is exactly what happened after receiving this text message. My mind went back to all the reasons why this person was not friendworthy. My self-talk rationalized: “Man, I don’t want to pray for her. I was not the problem, no one really cared for her, besides I’m likable.” The real problem is that she had the same mannerisms and spirit of someone  I did not get along with, so I neatly placed her in the same category of people I don’t want to associate with. God does not ask us to like everyone; He goes much deeper than that. He wants us to love everyone! This dilemma has brought me to a new level of spirituality, I must learn to love people who are not lovable! And one more thing about my self-talk: God heard every arrogant word and still loves me, but He also loves Judy just as much; in God’s eyes we are equal.

The Unforgiveness of Cancel Culture

Our society is suffering from historical unforgiveness.  Cancel Culture is projecting and, at times, inventing things from the past that have emotionally traumatized their ancestors. This is more of a curse that is flowing through their bloodline. They can’t seem to get past anything and are eroding our society with their great wave of destruction. They want to change history to better suit their purposes.  I could not believe Michelle Obama’s brother, Craig Robinson, and his wife Kelly made the national news because they are suing the prestigious private school that their children were attending. Because the school was using “repeated” racial words like plantation? This is how ridiculous Cancel Culture has become.

My Prayer

Dear Lord, thank You for the great epiphany of my unforgiveness. Give me the grace to be more loving and forgiving. I pray for Judy to continue in her work of producing Christian programming, and that many will be touched. Lord, I realize that I cannot change who Judy is but, through Your Divine Mercy, help me to love her as You do. Teach me to operate with a sincere heart toward those You place in my path. And to those of us who are harboring years of unforgiveness, heal us! Amen.