Lisa Hendey is a longtime friend of mine. She published my pieces at Catholicmom.com back when I first started writing in the blogosphere and she put up with a lot of experimentation. She helped encourage me to continue and pound out a style and cadence. She's been a virtual friend for going on 7 years, though I hope one day we meet in person.
She's written several books, the most recent of which is decidedly both poignant and personal while touching on what I think is the universal means by which we begin to walk down the road of Holiness. Her book is called
The Grace of Yes.
The little fish is named Fiat, and represents each of us jumping out of our comfort zone, trusting wherever we land with our "Yes" is where God intended. It isn't a fatalistic leap, but a leap of faith, jumping from the safe controlled bubble tank of our constructed lives, into the ocean of God's love. Who wouldn't trade a tank for the Ocean? Who wouldn't want the more of God? Us. We like our comforts, our control, and the safety of being where we have the illusion of being in charge. Saying yes means expanding our world and encountering others, and the unknown, being stretched and grown by more than we would opt to do on our own.
I've only plowed through the first two chapters, but she asks the big questions and recognizes when she's not asked the questions. She reveals the need to discern why are we saying yes and what are we saying yes to? And what should we be saying yes to? The answer of course is, to God.
The vocation of our lives is the How business of saying "Yes" to God, or no to other things. So I'm trying to say "Yes." to my children first, and to my husband, rather than "wait," or "Not yet." or "I'm tired." or "I'm busy." It's too easy to put off people for things that often aren't important.
Last night, my daughter said, "Come play Heart and Soul with me Mom." I didn't want to, I was in the kitchen, cleaning up from dinner. I need to learn to stop. I should stop and play. She was working on "Heart and Soul." I hate that song. But she loves it. She's just learning it.
"Come and play Mom." she asked, which is really, "Come and waste time with me." Wasting time is the surest proof of love, the willingness to do nothing or anything, with someone else, not because of what it is we're doing or not doing, but because of who we are with. I missed out last night. I stupidly chose dishes over duets. How dumb am I? Very. So Very!
So today, I'm dusting off the piano, and I'm hoping I get the opportunity today to receive the Grace of Yes.
P.S. I have an extra copy, if you would like to have it, leave a comment in the box and I'll pick a winner!
