joy

December 2025 Oblate Reflections

Presentation Leader: Fr. Jim Secora – Advent “He is Coming”

“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light.” (Isaiah 9:2)

We seek the light. In total darkness, our eyes can see a single point of light up to 5 miles away. This is the lesson of Advent, shared by Fr. Jim Secora, a retired priest and Benedictine oblate. We must accept the darkness, become comfortable with it, and not run from it. We must confront the darkness in the world and from within.

We live in a generation of darkness, as many generations before us have. There is much suffering—with refugees, immigrants, those lacking good health care, those who cannot afford necessities, who are sick, or have personal suffering. Advent calls us to confront the darkness. We cannot appreciate the light around us until we do.

Gaudete Sunday, the third Sunday of Advent, is a reminder of the joy we have and of the joy to come. The light of Christ is here and is coming—both are true. Miracles happen every day when we pay attention.

The fear of uncertainty, the unknown, leads to personal darkness. Even Jesus felt it. And he faced it head-on. We must practice trusting, letting go, and sitting in discomfort. If we don’t have an opportunity to see the need for light in our lives, why do we need Christmas? Fr. Jim suggests.

In small groups, we shared our personal experiences in response to the following questions—

1. Name the experiences of darkness that you find in the world, the church, the lives of people, and if only if you are comfortable, any area of darkness that you have or are experiencing. Where or when have you experienced light piercing the darkness?

2. The people of Israel sought out John because he offered them a vision of salvation. Where in the life of the world do you see the need for a savior? Where in my life, do I need to experience a rebirth of Jesus and his gift of salvation?

3. What is the star you are following now? And where is that star in its present radiance in your life leading you?

Much of our personal darkness comes from a feeling of helplessness. We want our discomfort relieved, our problems fixed. We live in a cloud of doubt and uncertainty, where we can’t “fix it” and no one else can “fix it” for us either. We forget that often the fear of the unknown may be worse than the reality that may be to come. But this presents the question: What do we trust in?

During my greatest fear, waiting for a life-changing health diagnosis, I experienced this desperation. And the only answer, the only peace is to trust in the breath of the Divine. Taking one deep breath at a time, I was more aware of the connection to the greater Source of peace. The breath prayer is the start of a surrendering practice, a continual turning it over to God, a reminder that we cannot assume to know how things will turn out or that we know what is best. This spiritual practice is impossible without humility.

“We have made ourselves the love of our lives and found little to adore at the altar of our egos. We have made ourselves our own gods and have forgotten God in the process…Joy, the deep-down awareness of what it means to live well, to live productively, to live righteously, is made out of self-giving, simplicity, and other-centeredness…Joy is not about what happens to us, the manger indicates. It is the meaning we give to what we do that determines the nature, the quality of the lives we live.”

-Joan Chittister, The Liturgical Year

It takes humility to surrender our “me” to “we.” We need a redemption of me. The stars we can follow are trust, acceptance, joy, and peace. Practicing gratitude for the present moment, finding peace, joy, and strength in whatever situation we are in, not wishing that we were somewhere else. Our star is directly above our present moment.

More reflections on Advent.

The Light Shines in the Darkness

Holy Darkness: An Advent Meditation

You Are A Sanctuary for the Divine ~ Sprigs of Rosemary Online Advent Retreat

An Advent Call of Humility: Mary and Zechariah

Flood the World with Love: An Antidote to Darkness

Be The Light: A 4th of July Message

“To be human is to live by sunlight and moonlight, with anxiety and delight, admitting limits and transcending them, falling down and rising up. To want a life with only half of these things in it is to want half a life, shutting the other half away where it will not interfere with one’s bright fantasies of the way things ought to be.” -Barbara Brown Taylor, Learning to Walk in the Dark

Light and dark are the colors of life. No life is ever all of one or all of the other.

This is evident for many of us this 4^th of July, the day we celebrate the independence of the United States of America. As daylight fades and darkness falls upon us, we gather in city parks and neighborhood driveways to witness crackling explosions, brilliant bursts of light, and glittering sparks as they cascade through the skies.

Fireworks can evoke a variety of feelings—from excitement, pride, and awe to anxiety, fear, and disbelief. I enjoy the displays but abhor the loud sounds. I think of shuddering dogs hiding under beds and the trauma that veterans may experience. I consider how much money is spent on fireworks that could be used in so many ways to help others. Still, with conflicted feelings, I watch and wonder.

To live in this country, to live in my body, is to face the realities of light and darkness. I have ideas of what democracy looks like, what the ideal is (see The Pledge of Allegiance of My Heart here). But I acknowledge that America is a work in progress, just as I am. Holding the tension between what is reality and what is our hope is a challenge. How do we stay present to the suffering in our souls and the world without losing the light inside?

This, my dear, is the greatest challenge to being alive: to witness the injustice of this world, and not allow it to consume our light.’ – Thich Nhat Hanh

Continue reading →

July 4, 2025 1

Remembering Steven Gehr: OK. I know. Good. OK.

Steven Gehr, my husband’s oldest brother at 66 years old, passed away in the early morning hours of Sunday, January 26, 2025. After a tragic accident, Steve was placed on a ventilator to assist his breathing, and within hours it was breathing for him. It was clear that letting Steve go was the best decision; he would be physically unable to live the joyful, carefree life he knew. The oldest child of seven children born to Marvin and Mary Gehr, Steve was born with intellectual disabilities. Steve was the center of the family, bringing everyone together in the spirit of joy with his huge grin and infectious laugh. His joy was everyone’s joy.

The Gehr Family, circa 1966. Steve stands between his mom and dad. Baby Kathy and I are the same age. In order, left to right–David, Karen, Diane, Mary/Kathy, Steve, Marvin, Alan and my husband, Joe…looking a little grumpy. Edit: Joe and his brother David look so much alike NOW that I mixed them up in the above photo. Joe, my husband, is on the left (isn’t he adorable?) and Dave is on the right. Their sisters said they had pre-arranged to look grumpy. LOL

Steve’s life became the seed for new life when he was approved to be an organ donor. The decision to pursue the organ donation process was influenced by our family experience of loss just two years ago. Alan, Steve’s brother, lost his life partner Greg when he passed waiting for a liver transplant. It was a difficult few days waiting for organ recipient arrangements, but knowing others will receive Steve’s liver and kidneys brings peace.

There is so much we love about Steve.

Steve got excited about things that were special to him—visits to the Goodwill to look for records, family gatherings, trips to McDonald’s (cheeseburger, French fries, Diet Coke), opening Christmas presents, having a Diet Coke or red coffee (the Folgers label that has caffeine.) The simplest things brought him so much joy, and his joy lit up the room.

Steve loved family get-togethers. When he returned to Glenwood, where he lived in a group home, he would already be talking about his next visit. In the fall, he envisioned Thanksgiving dinner, reciting the line-up of menu items, ticking off the list by counting on his hand—turkey, mashed potatoes, salad, white dressing (Ranch, which he could eat by the spoonful), pumpkin pie, and so on.

Continue reading →

January 27, 2025 7

PlayFULLY You: Pixie Dust and the Pink Motel

I am one who is playful, spirited, and connected in good company with wise women. The “pink motel” is a place of pixie dust and playfulness, joy, humor, carefree delights, childhood innocence, and magical moments.

One of the sweet surprises of SoulCollage® is when images come together to capture the essence of a memory, message, feeling, or archetype so effortlessly. This card reminds me of a recent playful, weekend gathering of friends. The women standing on the hayrack spoke to me of comradery, comfort, and community. It was later that I noticed the small child beside his mother. From a child’s vantage point, the energy in a room can easily shift from adult-ing to playfulness. Tinkerbell, the spirited fairy, spreads pixie dust and playfulness over adults and children alike—one can be both grown-up, wise, sober, AND playful, friendly, and funny. We can live more fully by embracing the playful child within.

My intention for 2024 is to live FULLY— “To be SoulFully You is to live prayerfully, joyfully, playfully, gratefully, mindfully, soulfully.” (2024 Word of the Year)

The spirit of Tinkerbell was alive and well on our farm weekend. Soom playful memories:

Continue reading →

February 4, 2024 0