Author: Denis Wilhelm

Anna’s Star Shines

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

I would like to tell you that my granddaughter is growing up too fast but that wouldn’t be true. She’s growing up as she should. I’m the one struggling to keep up. It seems like just yesterday Anna was born, but in reality, it was nearly 16 years ago that she arrived and changed my world forever.

I’m an easy mark because her three-year-old cousin Charlise had already captured me, body and soul, so I wasn’t sure how Anna was going to fit into my life. But there she was all wrinkly and pink and wet with tears (and other stuff). She carved a spot in my heart that only she can fill. And she still fills it every time I see her face or hear her voice. I am madly, deeply in love with this beautiful creature, who when I first took her tiny hand in mine, completely wrapped me around her little finger.

I’ve had the honor of standing on the sidelines or watching from the audience as she fills the room or field or gym or theater with her style, grace and charm. I’ve shared quiet moments enthralled with her ability to capture and embrace the subtlety and the majesty of God’s creation. I’ve often been afforded a front row seat in her transformation from a questioning child full of wonder and delight to a “Woman of The Word” with a steadfast commitment to making this world a better place for each of us. Her effervescence, her joyfulness and her playful spirit are only matched by her intelligence, her determination, and her courage. It’s easy to say that she is beautiful, because indeed she is. But her beauty is more than what we see on the outside. She radiates a kind of beauty that comes from an old soul. Anna feels deeply; gives freely; loves unconditionally.

I sometimes reminisce about baby Anna or preschool Anna or middle school Anna and those are warm, tender memories, but the Anna that I know today is one that lets me see into the future. Her vision, her strength and her compassion are far beyond her years.

I have no doubt that she will be successful in all that she chooses to do. The fact that she is an honor student and leader in her school community is a preview of what her adult life will hold. Her ability to embrace new challenges and turn them into opportunities is a testament to her character. After enduring multiple surgeries a few years ago, she has now excelled at climbing and fearlessly scales walls, mountains and hillsides with aplomb. Anna is a faith-filled and giving young woman who serves others with joy, grace and humility.

My prayer is that I can stick around long enough to see how the rest of world will be changed by her, while I bask in the delight of knowing that my world has already been changed. I also pray that she occasionally looks back and remembers wrapping my hand and heart around that little finger…

Peace & (Love),

Denis (Granddad)

Offer It Up

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

When I was a kid, and I had an ache or pain or was dealing with some perceived injustice, my mom would tell me to, “Offer it up for the poor souls in purgatory”. Those weren’t exactly the words of comfort that I was hoping for. Regardless of what she was saying, I often heard, “Suck it up, buttercup.” And I’m not certain that the poor souls in purgatory ever received any relief from my prayers of self-pity.

Mom was probably just tired of hearing complaints from all of us, but she taught me three things with her wisdom: First – pray; prayer always helps. Second – quit whining; nobody likes a bellyacher. Third – There is always someone in this world dealing with more pain than I am/was.

I often still find myself grumbling about something/someone/sometime that I must endure. Some disappointment. Some irritation. Some burden. When I find myself in those situations, I can clearly hear Mom’s voice: “Offer it up!” And I try. And try again. And again.

Usually, it’s my friends on this journey of life who make me realize how ridiculous my bitching and moaning is compared to their circumstances. So, after a few moments (days) of self-pity I remember to pray and thank God for the gifts I have and the witness of these friends with which I am blessed.

A dear friend is recovering from a post-operative infection which has slowed her recovery and sidelined her work life but has not diminished her spirit. An indefatigable young mother who I know is battling cancer. She is the strongest and most positive person I know and is using her own battle as a model for others. A friend of nearly 50 years takes her struggle with MS in stride (literally – as each step is painful) and she continually gives to others until it hurts. These are my heroes.

I needn’t look much further to find other friends, neighbors and acquaintances dealing with any number of challenges. The pain from accidents, illness, violence, unemployment, and grief can be overwhelming and can potentially destroy our spirits. Still, these individuals carry on. They pick up the pieces and make the best of what life has handed them. More heroes.

I know that some pain cannot be prayed or wished away. I realize that none of us can be truly prepared for what the future holds. There will likely be heartache and unbearable sadness but there will also always be a shoulder to lean on. There will always be a hand to hold. There will always be someone to dry your tears. There will always be love.

And perhaps the best way to “offer up” my pain/my disappointment/my bad day is to be the shoulder, the hand holder, tear-dryer, and the lover when I can.

Peace,

Denis

For it is in giving that we receive – Francis of Assisi

Catholic Sisters Week

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

We’ve all heard the stories (some of us have told them) about when a nun hit some innocent across the knuckles with a ruler in a classroom. We’ve heard about Sisters who were stern. Sisters who were mysterious and terrifying. Of course, in the 1940’s, 1950’s and 1960’s public school kids were getting thumped by their teachers, too. So, I take those stories with a grain of salt. I’m not condoning abuse. I’m just saying it was not unique to Catholic Schools and some of the stories may have little to do with reality. On the other hand, if I had 45 kids in one classroom…

Many of us grew up with almost cartoonish images of Catholic Sisters. Who doesn’t remember the television show “The Flying Nun”? Sally Fields careening through the skies because her bizarre headgear could make her airborne in order to save the day (in a comedic way, of course). And the movies: “The Singing Nun” about the nun who recorded the chart-topping song “Dominique” as played by Debbie Reynolds (try to get that song out of your head); “Sister Act” gives us a disguised nightclub performer Whoopie Goldberg who saves the church and the community; Mary Tyler Moore in “Change of Habit” was no more believable as a nun than Elvis was as the doctor with whom she was smitten. My personal favorite is Rosalind Russell as the tough but loving Mother Superior in “The Trouble with Angels”. The list goes on…

On my Aunt Gene’s lap – a happy place to be.

As charming as some of those shows may have been, they have nothing to do with my reality of Catholic Sisters. I was blessed to be born into a family of Catholic Sisters. My great aunt, three of my aunts, and seven of my Mom’s cousins were Sisters. Most of them were Sisters of the Most Precious Blood of which I am a proud lay member today. As a child, my aunts loved me and will remain in my heart forever. They were women who embraced lives of service to others while being role models to their many nieces and nephews. As a student, the Sisters who taught me, encouraged me to reach beyond my limited capabilities. Sister Fidesta was at times my adversary, but she never gave up on me. She made me do better, when adequate would have been enough for me. I will never forget wild and crazy Sister Thecla who inspired my love of drafting and architecture which enabled me in my career.

Catholic Sisters Week has been celebrated in March for the last ten years during Women’s History Month. We honor religious Catholic women and remember Catholic sisters that have passed away. Today as a Partner in Mission with the Most Precious Blood Sisters, I have experienced firsthand the love, the service and the dedication of the Sisters. My Sister friends and fellow Partners in Mission continually model compassion, patience, and forgiveness. I’m still a work in progress.

This week while you’re scrolling through countless social media posts about politics or the Oscars or politics at the Oscars, I encourage you to google Catholic Sisters Week. If you are blessed to have a friend or a member of your family or a teacher that is or was a Catholic Sister, thank them and thank God for them.

Peace,

Denis

Renewal

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

We’re in the process of having the interior of our house painted. It’s time for a refresh; a redo; a renewal. The change will be subtle. Most folks won’t even notice the change. Just another shade of gray in my color-blind world. But it will be fresher, brighter, and encourage other changes. Newly painted walls will likely require some new artwork, and possibly some new furniture and home decor.

Funny how life is like that. Not funny to my bank account but funny how one simple change sparks many additional changes as well. Lent is a time for renewal, too. I can fast and pray and do penance but most of the change, like our new paint job, will be subtle and likely unnoticed by others. Still, it’s good a time for me to refresh my shades of gray. And doing it without unnecessary attention is exactly as it’s meant to be. I can accept the changes in my heart and spirit, however modest they may be, and I can embrace the requirements that accompany those changes. Even if they are imperceptible. Maybe especially because they are imperceptible.

“When you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, who love to stand and pray in the synagogues and on street corners so that others may see them. Amen, I say to you, they have received their reward. But when you pray, go to your inner room, close the door, and pray to your Father in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will repay you.” Matthew 6:5-6

Spring is a time for renewal. The darkness and cold of winter give way to budding flowers and more hours of sunshine. My discouragement and frustrations can be carried more easily when I realize that there is hope in Christ. Lent fits nicely with this time of renewal. It’s a perfect time to be perfected in His love. I can clear away the cobwebs. I can throw open the shutters. I can add a new coat of paint to my weary soul. I can renew my spirit and accept the fact that if I want change in my world it must begin in my own heart.

Peace,

Denis

I Don’t Want To…

/ Denis Wilhelm / 3 Comments

I have a plaque in my office that reads, “LOVE GOD. LOVE OTHERS.” Sometimes it brings me great comfort. It reminds me of the friend who gave it to me, which brings a smile to my heart. It helps me remember to be kind. To love.

But honestly, sometimes it annoys me with its sanguine message. Often it challenges me. I don’t want to love others. Most days, I want to be angry, cynical and self-righteous. Love others? Even that obnoxious checker at The Neighborhood Walmart? The kid next door with the diesel truck rumbling at 5:30 AM? The lady at Mass on Sunday who informed me that she didn’t want any children sitting next to her, as I was trying to usher a family to their pew? My political adversaries? The guy at The Home Depot who couldn’t manage to control his dog from getting too friendly with my backside? Bad drivers? I don’t want to love any of those “others”!

As often happens, I stop and realize how foolish I am. As I reflect on my pride and stubbornness and a God who forgives me, I know that I can and must love others, even those annoying so-and-sos. Because many of them have loved me. And God always loves me even when I fail to love in return.

For years we have laughed about the time our grandson Noah, who was three or four years old, didn’t want to wear a collared shirt because in his tearful words, “I don’t want to be fancy!”. He didn’t want to get dressed up for whatever the occasion. He wanted to stay in his play clothes. He didn’t want to be stifled. He wanted to stay in his comfort zone. Getting “fancy” was going to challenge his very existence. You can’t run or throw a ball or tumble on the ground in a collared shirt. Despite his protests, he indeed wore that shirt and somehow, he survived it all. In truth, I would have caved in and let him wear what he wanted but his parents taught him a lesson that day. One that I am struggling to learn.

So today, I will try again to love others. It’s easy to love my family and friends. It’s easy to love those who share my values and my beliefs. It’s easy to love people in need who I see on the news or on social media. They’re distant and untouchable. It’s easy to love people through donations to charitable organizations. I’m shielded from their pain and suffering.

The tough ones to love are the family across the street who don’t keep their yard tidy; the lady who runs the red light; the Congressman who refuses to answer my emails; the person who pushed in front of me at the checkout counter; the family member who I no longer speak to because of political differences; the woman who loudly used profanity in a very crowded public place. And the man that I sometimes see in the mirror.

“I don’t want to…” But I’m trying. Loving others might make me uncomfortable at times. It certainly will push me out of my comfort zone. Loving those with whom I disagree doesn’t mean I have to abandon my beliefs. It might just free me to love more deeply, even if I shed a few tears in the process.

Thanks for the lesson, Noah.

Peace,

Denis

Remember When Valentine Was a Saint?

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

Growing up I celebrated Saint Valentine’s Day. Somewhere along the way it just became Valentine’s Day. I’m not sure why, maybe it was a concerted effort to eliminate all that is good and holy from our world or to brainwash us into buying Hallmark® cards. More than likely it’s just a harmless derivative of what once was a Catholic feast day honoring a saint whose very existence is in dispute. Generally, it is believed that Valentinus was a Roman priest martyred during the reign of Claudius II for aiding and marrying Christian couples (hence the romantic connection). But several Valentines are mentioned in early Christian history and many legends surround the name.

St. Valentine

Whether Valentine was a legend, or a saint doesn’t have much bearing on how we celebrate February 14th today. Valentine’s Day is a day for lovers. Whether it’s a new romance or a time-tested marriage; whether it’s the celebration of love between parents and their children or the love we share with our dear friends; it’s a good day to say, “I love you”.

For me, my wife Deb is my Valentine. She’s the one that stands by me through thick and thin. She is my leaning post, my rock, my partner, my inspiration and my joy. She is the one that gives meaning to my life – she is my lifetime Valentine. If some red roses and a romantic meal together will show her how much her love means to me – it’s a small price to pay.

Some folks might bemoan the fact that the ‘Saint’ has been taken out of Valentine’s Day, but I think that Valentine cards and heart-shaped boxes of candy are as harmless as bunnies at Easter. And maybe, just maybe, it’s better to honor the saints living among us than some saint from antiquity.

We can love one another everyday but I believe that Valentine’s Day is a good day to love a little more. Hug those that are close to you just a little bit tighter. Kiss your partner with a little more passion. Send a note to someone you’ve neglected. Call a friend just to say hello. Put yourself out there. Smile at a stranger. Offer a kind word to someone you meet. Risk your pride. Reach across the aisle. Mend a quarrel. Carry a load. Take a chance. Change your mind. Change your heart. Make peace. Love God. Love others.

Peace (and Love)

Denis

Faith, hope, love remain, these three; but the greatest of these is love.          

Aging Gracefully (or At Least Trying)

/ Denis Wilhelm / 3 Comments

Society seems to be obsessed with youth. Slogans like ‘Sixty Is the New Forty’ attempt to convince us that we are still young regardless of our age. Afterall, if 60 is the new 40, then 80 should be the new 60 and 100 should be 80. We are bombarded with advertisements for anti-aging lotions, hair dye, vegetable supplements, weight loss programs and Botox injections. Not to mention the medication to improve our memory and hearing aids so we can better hear the commercials informing us about what we need to stay young. Aging is inevitable, so why not do it with grace and dignity. I’m trying…

Of course, one could argue that if 60 is the new 40, then 30 is the new 15, which may explain why our neighbors’ 30-something children, who are still living at home, have failed to launch. I remember that I couldn’t wait to reach the milestone ages of 16 and 21 and 30. Even 40 was fun-ish. I look at my neighbors in amazement and think about my life as a 30-year-old: married, three kids, full-time jobs, mortgage debt and car payments, utilities, school tuition, etc., etc. I wouldn’t trade those hectic (borderline manic) years for anything! We didn’t think much about the future back then. Our life was day to day. We survived and our children thrived. We were never rich, but we were never really poor. Our blessings weren’t monetary. Our riches were friendship, faith and family.

I must admit that my physical aches and pains are more frequent as the clock continues to tick. My hair is white. My waistline is expanding. But I don’t feel much different than I did at 40. I have the luxury of a less hectic life now as I contemplate the future. I’m about a year away from 70 and there was a time when that seemed really old. Now I look at my friends who are in their 80’s and 90’s who have so much left to do; so much more to share. I’m personally waiting for the wisdom which is supposed to come with old age because I have some things to accomplish as well. I suppose I must get older because wisdom continues to elude me.

A dear friend shared this scripture with me recently and I’ll admit we shared a chuckle about the loss of hair color:

Rejoice, O youth, while you are young and let your heart be glad in the days of your youth. Follow the ways of your heart, the vision of your eyes. Yet understand regarding all this that God will bring you to judgment. Banish misery from your heart and remove pain from your body, for youth and black hair are fleeting. Ecclesiastes 11:9-10

Youth is fleeting! Embrace life at all ages; let your heart be glad! Sometimes I see my dad’s reflection in the mirror, and it hits me that I really am a senior citizen. Embracing life at this age can be challenging, banishing misery from my heart and removing pain from my body isn’t that easy.

But here’s my solution: Memories. I have a lifetime of memories. Some are melancholy but most are beautiful. Many are sublime. They carry me to precious moments in time. Seeing my bride walk down the aisle; the smell of sweet baby milk-breath on our infant children; watching with pride and uneasiness as our kids grew up and moved on; holding on to our loved ones as they passed from this world to the next. Those memories sustain me. That’s the beauty and grace of growing older. The older we get the more memories we have. The more memories we have, the more grace we are afforded.

I want my grandchildren to follow the ways of their hearts and the vision of their eyes and to create memories that will last their lifetimes. Recently my wife and I were reminiscing about days gone by and I realized it’s truly a gift that the happy memories make the sad ones tolerable. Gratitude outweighs regret. Love conquers all. I’ll take the wrinkles and the white hair and all the rest as long as they are served up with cherished memories while I have my partner at my side. Right here. Right now.

Peace,

Denis

Be Afraid?

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

Politicians seem to be great fear mongers. So is Big Pharma, the NRA, those folks who are selling home security and identity theft protection, lots of media personalities and some clergy members. Fear can be a powerful tool; just look at any political ad. Listen to any talk radio or cable news host, watch any television commercial or attend a church service and you likely be warned about some impending evil – life is scary but if you vote for me, buy my product, or follow my religion, you will be safe (or safer anyway). Fear is an excellent marketing tool. Fear has also fueled hate and prejudice. Fear has gotten us into wars. Fear begets fear. Be afraid – be very afraid!

We should be afraid of some things. We should fear demagogues and dictators and hold on with all our might to our democracy, but not be afraid to have meaningful discourse with those whom we disagree. We should fear for the safety of our children and protect them but not to the point where we refuse to let them experience life to its fullest. We should be afraid of communicable diseases and take necessary precautions to limit them, but not live in isolation. We should fear for our planet and promote ecology but still continue to fish our waters and hunt our wildlife in a sustainable manner.

I refuse to be ruled by fear, I will not buy your product, listen to your propaganda or read your book because of some vague threat of evil or danger despite your warnings. I will not buy into your fear game. And I will not follow your religion or your rules because of some fear of hell.

Instead, I will hold my head high and embrace the good in this world. I will take an active role in promoting peace and justice (if only in my small circle of influence). I will love God and be thankful for life in all its forms. I want to be a role model to my grandchildren. I want them to explore the world and all its wonder and be forces for good. I want them to be ambassadors of goodwill; agents for positive change; lovers of justice and protectors of our planet.

Sometimes we have to stand up for what is right and sing our song. If we join our voices in harmony, the fear will be abated. When we face our fears together, we can find the courage to shout down the hate and inequality around us. Some will take the lead; some will follow; and still others will stand silent.

But together we should never let fear motivate us. Only love should.

Peace,

Denis

Peace

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

Peace. Such a simple word with so many definitions: a state without war; freedom from disquieting or oppressive thoughts or emotions; a state of freedom from storm or disturbance; peaceful coexistence. But what does peace mean to me? As I often do, I look to others for wisdom beyond my ken.

Mahatma Gandhi said, “The day the power of love overrules the love of power, the world will know peace.” Elie Wiesel wrote, “Mankind must remember that peace is not God’s gift to his creatures; peace is our gift to each other.” In the words of Saint Teresa of Calcutta, “Peace begins with a smile.”

Albert Einstein is quoted as saying “There are only two ways to live your life. One is as if nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”

Peace is my miracle. I see peace when I watch the birds and squirrels in my backyard scurrying for seeds and nuts to keep warm in this bitter cold. I feel peace when I hold my grandchildren in my arms knowing that they are God’s promise to make this world a better place. I know peace when the love of others lifts me out of the darkness of despair.

The challenge for me is to be a peace-giver. Each week when I attend mass, we share a ‘sign of peace’. Simply stated: we shake hands or hug those around us and say, “peace be with you”. Sometimes I do it rather mechanically. Sometimes I fail to even look the recipient of my ‘peace’ in the eyes. And seldom do I take the time to really think about the peace I am offering.

Again, seeking wisdom, I turn to my spouse. She often reminds me that we have no idea what pain others are carrying in their hearts. What peace do you need, my friend? What freedom are you seeking? What are your fears? What emotions or thoughts are troubling you? I can offer this small gift. I can give peace, my peace. I can begin with a smile. I can hug a little tighter and hold a hand just a moment longer and let someone know that I truly care.

Here’s the other part: accepting peace. Am I changed when others offer their peace to me? Do I accept their peace generously and without question? Once again: I can begin with a smile. I can hug a little tighter and hold a hand just a moment longer and let someone know that I am truly blessed by their love.

My peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give it to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid. John 14:27

Peace,

Denis

P.S. My friend Joyce shared this beautiful song with me, offering me her peace.

Following Yonder Star

/ Denis Wilhelm / 2 Comments

When Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea,
in the days of King Herod,
behold, Magi from the east arrived in Jerusalem, saying,
“Where is the newborn king of the Jews?
We saw his star at its rising
and have come to do him homage.” Matthew 2:1-2

I love the gospel story of the Epiphany. I imagine the Magi following the star and journeying through vast deserts on camelback to a distant land in search of a newborn king. And discovering their hearts’ desire in the most unexpected of places.

It has occurred to me that my “understanding” of the Magi hasn’t really changed much since I was a child. I’ve always pictured them as mystical and exotic; richly robed kings or emirs driven by an ‘unearthly desire’ to find Jesus. Did they know he was born in poverty? Did they know that he would change the world? Why were they driven to find him? And upon finding him in such humble surroundings why did they prostrate themselves as if he were a king? And why the gifts?  Why gold, frankincense, and myrrh?   

Three gifts were presented to Jesus, but the Matthew never tells us the number of Magi or whether they were men or women. Legend tells us they were three Kings named Caspar, Melchior, and Balthasar, but they could as likely been astronomers. Early Christian art depicts the three men as coming from Europe, Asia, and Africa. And growing up my nativity set would show them likewise bearing their gifts – gold: a gift fit for a king; frankincense: which is burned during prayer; myrrh: which is a perfume most often associated with burial – a foreshadowing of Jesus’s death and suffering. Another tradition (brought to the U.S. by European immigrants) involves writing the initials of the three kings’ names above the main door of the home to confer blessings on the occupants for the New Year. For example, 20 + C + M + B + 24.

I still find comfort in the imagined Wise Men of my childhood – these three; certain of their mission; following yonder star without question; and knowing when they found the Christ-child that He was THE ONE.

But how do I relate to this ideal in my own life? Where is my certainty? Where is my mission? Where is my star? I think of how I sometimes miss the obvious – and maybe my star is burning brightly, and I just can’t see it. Perhaps my mission is to continue to question; to journey; to “look to the east”. Maybe I need to find my certainty in my own heart and soul. God has truly blessed me – what wonder do I seek to be assured of His love? 

This is the message from the Magi for me: it doesn’t really matter if they were kings or astronomers or men. They were immigrants. They were strangers in a land searching for the unknown. They journeyed in uncertainty. They let go of any preconceptions or expectations they might have had. And when they found him and looked into the eyes of a poor child, they understood, and they were changed.

How do I accept strangers into my life today; my home; my country? How do I open my heart when others seemed to be obsessed with building walls and strengthening borders? Jesus was born in the humblest of circumstances. How do I treat those who are living in poverty, in despair? Perhaps it’s time for me to prostrate myself before the immigrant, the poor, the desperate. Isn’t that the message of Jesus? Isn’t that what the Magi were truly following?

Perhaps my challenge is to stop trying to “make sense of it all” and just follow that yonder star.

Peace,

Denis