Oh, Psalm 139!  I was blessed to be able to read it at Mass today. 
 
I had memorized much of it back in college, when I was accustomed to praying the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary. 
 
For me, this psalm is a special scripture passage.  It touches and warms my heart.  I really like a couple of the hymns which have been adapted from it, such as “O God, You Search Me” and “You are Near.”  (We actually sang the former this morning at Mass.)
 
Amidst the struggles of life, it is wonderful to remember the message contained in this psalm.
 
If you’re having a tough day, or are in need of a reminder of God’s closeness, I’d encourage you to take a few moments and reflect upon this beautiful passage.  It wasn’t just relevant 3,000 years ago; it’s “living and effective” today as well. 

O LORD, you have probed me and you know me;
you know when I sit and when I stand;
you understand my thoughts from afar.
My journeys and my rest you scrutinize,
with all my ways you are familiar.

Where can I go from your spirit?
From your presence where can I flee?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I sink to the nether world, you are present there.

If I take the wings of the dawn,
if I settle at the farthest limits of the sea,
Even there your hand shall guide me,
and your right hand hold me fast.

Truly you have formed my inmost being;
you knit me in my mother's womb.
I give you thanks that I am fearfully, wonderfully made;
wonderful are your works.

I know it’s been a number of weeks since I’ve posted any reflections here.  I’m sorry, but I guess I’ve been busy and also not had much inspiration. 
 
As I embark on the final stretch of a fifteen hour stint at the reception desk, I realized that it’s been a while and that, perhaps, I’d better come up with something. 
 
Glancing at the USCCB’s daily readings webpage for inspiration, I saw that tomorrow’s selection is again from Ecclesiastes.  Skimming the words: “There is an appointed time for everything…A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to uproot the plant. A time to kill, and a time to heal…a time of war, and a time of peace,” I was struck by their timeless beauty. 
 
The truths proclaimed thousands of years ago are no less relevant today.
 
In this time when I, for one, face so much added stress and uncertainty, it’s good to remember the lessons contained here. 
 
In times of weeping, mourning, dying, uprooting, killing, tearing down, scattering, not embracing, losing, casting away, rending, hating, and war, I need to keep my gaze directed upward. 
 
It’s so easy to get caught up in the turmoil around me, on the storm.  I need to strive to keep my attention on the One who’s “got it all” and who can calm the storm with a single word. 
 
Whether he decides to end the tempest suddenly or chooses to walk with me through it, I need to entrust myself and my situation to Him, asking Him to stay close to me through it all.

As we celebrate the birthday of the Blessed Virgin today, I decided to share a poem I wrote as a postulant.

Ave Maria!
Hail our Mother and our Queen
Who, at present though not seen,
Watches and protects us here-
in times of peace and times of fear.
 
Please help us to be more like you
Who, in everything, was true.
Please help us trust and truly pray:
Let it be done me as you say.
 
Guide us, please, and help us obey
The words at Cana you did say.
Like those servants, please help us do
What ever He tells [us] to.
 
Show us, please, the way to go
And what we should do to know.
Please help our minds be lit, not dim
As we heed: Listen to Him.
 
Please help us have obedient hearts
And never let our feet depart
From the way which you did run
That will lead us to your Son.
 
Hail, my Mother and my Queen!
Though your loving hands unseen,
I know you have maternal care
For us your children everywhere.
Written January 9, 2006

This morning’s gospel of the calling of the fishermen (in conjunction with the miraculous catch of fish) in Luke 5  can serve as an inspiration to all of us, especially during times, like our own, which tend to be challenging. 
 
If you’re anything like me, you may be feeling a bit discouraged at times, and be inclined to wonder if things will ever change in regard to certain situations. 
 
Peter, exhausted from a night of fruitless toil is in this same “boat” here.  When Jesus instructs him to "Put out into deep water and lower your nets for a catch," he’s not exactly jumping up with excited optimism. 
 
He’s realistic, like any of us. 
 
His very matter-of-fact response is: "Master, we have worked hard all night and have caught nothing.” 
 
Nonetheless, he doesn’t stop there.  He’s willing to submit of Jesus’ instructions, although his fisherman commonsense would tell him otherwise: “but at your command I will lower the nets."
 
I don’t know about you, but this passage nudged me this morning. 
 
I may be tempted to think, “What’s the use?  I’m not succeeding.  I’m not catching any fish.  I might as well give up on that.” 
 
Perhaps, in this morning’s encounter, Jesus is whispering to you and to me: “Don’t give up!...Put out into deep water and lower your nets for a catch."

If we are open and obedient, if we keep spending time with Jesus, we might just see our own miraculous catch of fish (or whatever that translates to in our own lives). 
 
In whatever our circumstances, may we be attentive to the Holy Spirit’s call to leave everything and follow Him.