Tag Archives: video prayers

Retreat Notes (2025 Edition)

I will be honest. Given the state of the world, it felt a little self-indulgent to spend a week away in silence and the beauty of God’s creation this year. And yet I leave renewed and strengthened by God’s love, grateful for the wisdom of tradition and my community’s expectation that each sister take an annual retreat (it’s in our Constitutions!).

Mother Evangelista, one of the first sisters to profess vows in the community in 1884, taught this to her novices:

“Retreat – What is it? A Spiritual Holiday with our Lord. … God comes to us now with His hands spread out over us, and filled with every kind of grace and gift. Are these gifts for me Lord? Is it I?

I can relate. This year, I returned to Wisdom House, an interfaith retreat center in Connecticut run by the Daughters of Wisdom. When I was a novice, I made my retreat here both years. It is a sacred space filled with beauty where I have received many graces and gifts, this year being no exception.

I leave with three messages tucked into my heart from this week, wisdom for the journey.

1. Strengthen Your Weak Knees

The week before my retreat I twisted my knee. Given that one of my favorite things to do on retreat is go on long walks in the woods, this was problematic.  Thankfully I am improving and was able to take (slow) walks with the help of a knee brace.

God has a (serious) sense of humor, however. The Sunday reading as I began retreat was from Hebrews 12:

For what “son” is there whom his father does not discipline? At the time, all discipline seems a cause not for joy but for pain, yet later it brings the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who are trained by it.

So strengthen your drooping hands and your weak knees. Make straight paths for your feet, that what is lame may not be disjointed but healed (emphasis added by me).

I burst out laughing at mass as this passage was proclaimed. OK God, I get it. But just to make sure I got the message, later that same day, I was listening to new music by Sandra McCracken, who it happens released a song based on this same verse in July!

Strengthen your weak knees became a theme of sorts for this retreat. The journey is not without challenges, but I find strength in God and community (and knee braces) and stay on the path. Speaking of paths, I visited the Montfort Fathers Lourdes Shrine in Litchfield and made a prayer video set to the song.

2. Do Whatever He Tells You

I attended daily mass this week at a local parish, where on my second visit  I noticed a beautiful stained glass window of the wedding at Cana. I love the look on Mary’s face as she looks over her shoulder at Jesus. Aren’t you going to do something, her whole being says to her son. And to the servants (and to me), she says simply, “Do whatever he tells you.”

Life can be overwhelming on the best of days. Right now … well. Sigh. I have been mostly unplugged this week but have been reading (and praying with) the news. Enough said.

I also carry with me the stories of the immigrant families I have met on my visits to the Delaney Hall detention center in the face of cruel,  inhumane, and constantly changing visitation policies at the for-profit prison. Another reflection point this week that kept coming up for me (and is in the video above) was standing at the foot of the cross. My experience of accompaniment at Delaney Hall has been a true foot of the cross experience. I can feel helpless in such moments. Like Mary and the other women, I suppose.

As I prepare to return back to real life, I am encouraged by Mary to follow her son. “Do whatever he tells you. He is the way. Love is the way.” My task is simply to listen to him and act accordingly. Small acts of love add up. And as Pope Leo reminded us that first day from the balcony at St. Peter’s… “God loves all of us and evil will not prevail.”

3. Be Like Wise and Rational Fish

Bear with me here … This morning, on the feast of St Augustine, I was drawn to look at the Office of Readings for the day, which I presumed would have something from him. Sure enough, it was the “Late have I loved you” bit, which is lovely and worthy of reflection, to be sure.

But it was the daily reading from St. Columbanus (different from Columba apparently), a sixth century Irish Missionary that caught my attention. Reflecting on Living Water, he wrote:

We are called to the source and fountain of life … From this Life comes everything: wisdom, life, eternal light. The Creator of life is the fountain from which life springs; the Creator of light is the fountain of light. So let us leave this world of visible things. Let us leave this world of time and head for the heavens. Like fish seeking water, like wise and rational fish let us seek the fountain of light, the fountain of life, the fountain of living water.

His words came back to me later as I happened upon a bubbling brook on my morning walk in a nearby nature preserve. Remember, I was necessarily walking slowly thanks to my weak knees so I noticed things! I even took advantage of a conveniently placed bench to ponder this living water (and later make a video, because why not?).

God’s love is everywhere if we but have eyes to see and ears to hear (and weak knees to slow us down). God gives us living water to sustain, refresh, and renew us. May we, like wise and rational fish, remember to seek out and be light and love in the darkness amid the dry times in which we find ourselves.

Thanks for reading. I have been praying for you, yes you, during these days of retreat. May we all remember that God is good. All the time. And so are we.

Another Annunciation

Today on the Feast of St. Joseph, I am reminded of the many ways God breaks through and into our lives and our world, often unexpected. Think of the story of Joseph, the unexpected message he received in a dream from an angel and his faithful response despite the pressures of society.

There’s a song that captures this moment by Waterdeep, which I recently illustrated in a prayer video using a favorite picture of stained glass window depicting this critical moment in our faith history.

Mary’s annunciation gets a lot of attention, and rightly so. But how often do we reflect on this other annunciation? And what might Joseph’s response teach us today as we face our own uncertain and confusing moments?

I love this stained glass window of Joseph receiving the message of the angel. It is so very human. When I would visit my father at St. Joseph Village in Chicago, the nursing home on the North Side of Chicago where my Dad lived his last years, I would see this window behind the altar in the chapel. St. Joseph Village was the first ministry of the Franciscan Sisters of Chicago, founded in 1897. The current building is a new construction, and it is clear that special attention was given to the design of the chapel. It is a beautiful place to pray, filled with light.

Joseph does not respond to the angel’s heavenly message with words, at least not according to Matthew’s Gospel account (2: 18-25). This stained-glass window, however, implies what must have been his natural response. “His expression,” notes the booklet describing the chapel artwork, “seems to suggest the question, ‘What does this mean?’”

Not only does his expression speak volumes, but also Joseph’s posture—hands open, shoulders shrugged, one knee on the ground. He has even dropped his tools. His life will never be the same.

The angel tells Joseph not to be afraid to welcome Mary into his home, to form a family. “For it is through the Holy Spirit that this child has been conceived in her.”

Joseph, a man of few words—or no words at least that have been recorded—spoke instead with his actions. Joseph was open to the unexpected.

Joseph took Mary into his home and helped to raise Jesus. “Joseph’s ordinary life of labor and purity of intention have been transformed into an extraordinary element of God’s holy plan.”

WHAT WOULD you do if an angel appeared to you in a dream and told you something completely unexpected, life changing, and a little bit crazy?

God often speaks to us through the unexpected. Most likely we do not have visions or angelic messages, but then again, what else are friends and family and those “aha” moments? God’s love surprises us again and again, often in unexpected ways. And the message is clear … Be Not Afraid. Respond with love in return. And all will be well.

Prayer for Unexpected Moments
St. Joseph, inspire us to be open to the unexpected Spirit-filled moments of life. Pray with and for us, that we too may see the extraordinary possibilities hidden in the ordinariness of life. Thank you for the many ways you modeled acceptance and loving response to God’s love. May we too respond to God’s gifts with faith, gratitude, and loving action.
Amen

Transfiguration & Transformation

Today’s Feast of the Transfiguration challenges us to remember we, too, are Beloved of God. Moreover, as followers of Jesus we are called to listen to him and act accordingly.

Over a decade ago, I made this prayer video, set to the song Transfiguration by Indie singer songwrote Sufjan Stevens. As I prayed with it this morning, I was caught by his repetition of the phrase “Lost in the cloud…”

Lost in the cloud, a voice. Have no fear! We draw near!
Lost in the cloud, a sign. Son of man! Turn your ear.
Lost in the cloud, a voice. Lamb of God! We draw near!
Lost in the cloud, a sign. Son of man! Son of God!

We can get lost in the cloud. The cloud of indifference. The cloud of division. The cloud of misinformation. The cloud of …. insert that which separates us from God’s love. And yet, we are called to LISTEN to the Beloved. We are called to Be Loved. We are called to Be Love.

As we hear in today’s reading from the second letter of Saint Peter (1:19): 

“You will do well to be attentive to it, as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts.”

Let us remember and transform the clouds of our lives into light and love and goodness, strengthened by the Source of every Good thing.

In Everything

This week on retreat, I spent a lot of time walking in the nearby woods and meandering on the grounds at St. Raphaela Retreat Center.

This week I also discovered a new hauntingly beautiful song called In Everything by Paper Horses, a singer songwriter supergroup made up of Jess Ray, Sandra McCracken, Taylor Leonhart, and Leslie Jordan. These four artists, individually, are often the soundtrack for my prayer. Together, well, just take a listen in this video prayer I made matching some of my photos and videos from my walks to their song.

The Gift of God’s Love

On the morning of my 51st birthday last week, I awoke with a lovely ear worm – “I love you Lord, for you have delivered me.” These are the opening words of Psalm 116 (I Love You Lord) by Mission House. I had discovered a new acoustic version of the song the night before, and to my joy and delight it was still in my heart and head when I awoke that day filled with gratitude for the gift of life and God’s love.

Daily life, with its periodic ups and downs, stumbles and misteps, chaos and noise sometimes makes it harder for me to remember the awesome mystery that God loves me and you and everyone else no matter what. I find it helpful from time to time to take some time away to spot the unmistakable gift of God’s love in nature.

Just the week before I’d gone on an afternoon walk in a local park in Bayonne, New Jersey where I observed two turtles out for a swim on a very hot day. For my birthday present I gifted myself with some quiet time with God in Maryland, in St. Mary’s City and on the Eastern Shore. On my walks and meanderings a cardinal allowed me to take its portrait, some trees gave me shade, and a great blue heron stood still in witness of the wonder of it all. If you don’t believe me, you can watch the video prayer I made set to the beautiful song by Jess Ray and Taylor Leonhardt of Mission House, in which all these friends make a guest appearance.

I love You, Lord
For You have delivered me
I love You, Lord
For You have delivered
My soul from death
My feet from stumbling
I will walk in the land of the living
My soul from death
My feet from stumbling
I will walk in the land of the living

I will bless You, Lord for You heard my cry
I reached out my hand and You saved my life
I will bless You, Lord for You heard my plea
And the God of Heaven turned His ear to me

I will bless You, Lord for unending love
For Your grace and mercy raining down from above
And I will bless You, Lord to the very end
I will call on You as long as I may live

Amen

The concern of I AM

In today’s reading from the Book of Exodus (3: 13-20) God is revealed to Moses as I AM. Years ago my spiritual director helped me to appreciate this in a particular way. God does not reveal God’s self as I was or I will be but rather I AM. Here and now in this present moment. In every present moment.

This morning as I prayed with this passage, my attention was caught by what Moses is told to tell the people.

“Go and assemble the elders of Israel, and tell them: The Lord, the God of your fathers, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, has appeared to me and said: I am concerned about you and about the way you are being treated in Egypt; so I have decided to lead you up out of the misery of Egypt into the land of the Canaanites, Hittites, Amorites, Perizzites, Hivites, and Jebusites, a land flowing with milk and honey.”

God is concerned about us, in our present, always. We are God’s concern.

Sit with that a minute.

As I sat with that realization this morning I was reminded of a video prayer I made a few years ago while on retreat, set to I Am by singer songwriter Jill Phillips.

I am constant, I am near
I am peace that shatters all your secret fears
I am holy, I am wise
I’m the only one who knows your hearts desires
Your hearts desires

Amen.

What would it be like if we knew this truth in the depths of our hearts … and acted accordingly? Sharing the concern of the Great I AM for ourselves, each other, and our wounded world?

I will be still

In our lives, lived amidst more than a dash of chaos at times, whether of the daily variety or the cosmic, we owe it to ourselves to take time to BE STILL. Sometimes we might actually be able to get away, but even a walk in the neighborhood or a moment to stop and breathe can be enough to refill our energy and restock our knowing of whose we are and who we are at our core.

Recently I was reminded of the words of Honoria Gaffney (Mother Evangelista Joseph, first Superior General of my religious community). Writing on humility, she said: “Empty yourselves of yourselves and you will find God.” She wrote those words over a century ago. Wisdom.

This Sunday morning I took some time with one of my favorite prayer forms, setting some of my contemplative photos of the goodness of God’s creation to music, in this case “I Will Be Still” by Young Oceans, featuring Molly Parden. Enjoy!

[Chorus]
I will be still
I will be still
And know, and know
And know You

[Verse 1]
Though the Earth give way
Though the mountains fall to the sea
Though its waters roar
I will cling to Thee

[Verse 2]
Though the nations rage
And creation yearns for the Lord
Though the Earth may melt
I’m forever Yours

[Pre-Chorus]
There is no fear
As I look upon You

[Chorus]
I will be still
I will be still
And know
And know You are God

Love shall overcome

Who does not have half their attention elsewhere these days.

The horror facing civilians in Ukraine. The dawning reality of the climate crisis. Political polarization even in families and churches. Racial and economic disparity that seems entrenched and at the same time dismissed.

These are the signs of the times that led my religious Congregation, the Sisters of St Joseph of Peace, to commit in our Chapter Act this week To Be Who We Say We Are.

“Urged by a burning desire to speak and act boldly with open, loving and adventurous hearts, and in collaboration with others, we now commit to:

  • Cultivating and practicing peace through justice by the intentional living of interculturality, anti-racism, and inclusion
  • Addressing, healing, and being present to the wounds and broken relationships among ourselves and all of God’s Creation
  • Resisting every form of war and violence
  • Making a place for everyone at the table where all are welcomed and gifts are honored

It is time to be who we have always said we are. It is time to live our words.  We embrace these promptings of the Spirit with courage, humility, hope and trust.”

As I have prayed with the Chapter experience and these words, the words of the song Free by the Good Shepherd Collective and Liz Vice keep playing in my head and heart. So I did what I do and made a video prayer.

🎵 So let the light in, keep it shining, let it break into the darkness … Love shall overcome 🎵

Margaret Anna Cusack, our founder, said: “The very name Sisters of Peace will, it is hoped, inspire a love and desire for it.”

Bishop Bagshawe, who we claim as a co-founder, told the first Sisters at their profession in 1884: “To secure this divine peace for ourselves and procure its blessing for others in the midst of the sin, turmoil, and restless anxiety of this modern world is the object of your institute.

So on the one hand the task can seem huge and overwhelming. Impossible even. And yet … Love shall overcome. Peace is possible. Peace is God’s gift. A gift to love and desire and work for and share. For then, indeed, we will all be free.

I am – a video prayer

“I am,” a new-to-me song by Jill Phillips, speaks deeply to me of the invitation to let God be God. So I did what I do, and made a video prayer.

Lyrics by Jill Phillips:

Oh, gently lay your head upon my chest,
And I will comfort you like a mother while you rest
The tide can change so fast, but I will stay
The same through past, the same in future, the same today

I am constant, I am near
I am peace that shatters all your secret fears
I am holy, I am wise
I’m the only one who knows your hearts desires
Your hearts desires

Oh weary, tired, and worn
Let out your sighs
And drop that heavy load you hold, ’cause mine is light
I know you through and through
There’s no need to hide
I want to show you love that is deep, and high, and wide

Oh, gently lay your head upon my chest
And I will comfort you like a mother while you rest