“Let the children come to me”

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

garyLast week our newest granddaughter Gwendolyn Elizabeth was baptized. Our good friend Deacon Gary baptized her; as he has baptized our four other grandchildren. It was beautiful celebration of God’s love for us. I was reminded (once again) that Baptism isn’t just for the baby being Christened but for the entire family gathered to experience the sacrament. We all renewed our faith and promised to help Gwen in her spiritual journey. As Gary so eloquently pointed out, Gwen really had no idea what was happening to her but our love and support would give her a foundation on which to build a life-long relationship with God. So with parents and siblings and Godparents and grandparents and great-grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins and friends, Gwen was welcomed into a new life in Christ. And we were all blessed.

bannerBaptism doesn’t end with the sacrament. This will be the beginning of Gwen’s life as a disciple of Christ. She was presented for Baptism but her parents and Godparents will bear the responsibility for her formation. We will all support their efforts in raising her as a Christian but ultimately she will have to choose to accept her faith as an adult.

But how often do I think about my responsibility to be a witness of Christ’s love? How often do I forget that we are all called to this in Baptism – to be Christ to one another?

As her grandfather I can model Christ’s love in the way in which I love and honor Gwen’s grandmother (my wife) and her parents and Godparents (my children) but most importantly it will be in the way that I will love her. Gwen’s journey in life is unknown at this time but my belief in Jesus’ saving grace is certain and it will sustain her forever; inasmuch as my love for her will never end.

Peace,

Denis

Jesus said, “Let the children come to me; for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” Matthew 19:14

Old Man Walking

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment
On the journey with a companion

On the journey with a companion

I walk a lot. I try to get up each morning and walk 4 miles around a nearby lake. When I’m traveling or on vacation, I’ll walk the beach or in a park. Not bad for a 61 year-old I suppose. I do it to stay physically fit but lately I find that it probably benefits my mental and spiritual fitness even more than my tired, old-ish body.

What I have discovered on my sunrise walks is that other walkers (and runners, and cyclists) aren’t likely to make eye contact. I know that we live in a world of fear; we’re afraid of terrorists; we’re afraid of violent crimes; we’re afraid of sexual predators; we’re afraid of identity theft; we’re afraid of yet-to-be-named diseases; we’re afraid of immigrants; we’re afraid of other religions; we’re afraid of other cultures; we’re afraid of people who don’t look (or act) like us. Some of these fears are legitimate; some I believe are heightened by political interests and hatred.

But I live (and walk) in the squeaky-clean suburbs. And there should really be very little to fear. My fellow walkers should certainly have no fear of me. I’m startled by the occasional bunny rabbit or squirrel that will dart across the trail. And I might cringe if I see a snake slither past or if a frog jumps out of the weeds but other people don’t make me afraid. And I will do no harm to them.

Recently I’ve tried to say “good morning” or “hello” to anyone who dares to make eye contact with me on my morning jaunts. The reactions and responses have been interesting. Some will offer a downcast or sideways glance with a feeble “hi”, as if to protect themselves from whatever evil may be lurking behind my benign-looking, grandfatherly exterior. Others look away quickly with no response at all. Some will actually return a friendly “good morning” or “hello”. The runners and joggers are usually very serious about their business, as if pausing for a quick glance might somehow throw off their body rhythms. The cyclists are often struggling to keep their balance or speed (or whatever) and seem incapable of the multi-tasking required to say anything while riding – I might get a nod. Older folks like myself are twice as likely to smile and acknowledge me. Young women (and perhaps rightly so) often avoid eye contact and stay focused on their exercise (and I suppose keep a ready hand on their can of mace). Young men are the least likely to speak or even look at me (probably dreading the likelihood that they might be staring at their futures).

Walking has given me the opportunity to S L OW  D O W N and appreciate the sunrise. To thank God for creation. It helps me clear my head and prepare for my day. It allows me quiet time to pray and be thankful for this journey of life. I like to see the flowers (and weeds) along the trail. I enjoy seeing the squirrels and rabbits and frogs and yes, even the occasional snake. I would never notice those things while driving. But mostly I’m grateful for the few friendly human encounters I have each day.

Some of us who are regular walkers (or runners) have now also become regular “smilers” and “hello-ers”. I’d like to think that this ‘old man walking’ has had some small part in that. I’ll keep smiling and hello-ing. Who knows? The smile that I share might be the only smile that one of my fellow walkers will receive the entire day. Kindness given is always returned.

And none of us is a stranger to God.

Peace,

Denis

More Love Is Needed…

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

Some people say that God is love. I would agree.

gay-loveRight now we need more love in this world. Sadly the tragedy in Orlando has created a swirl of political debate about gun control, terrorism, radical Islamism, LGBT rights, and police response. Whereas I firmly believe in a ban on all assault weapons and I abhor terrorism and violence of all kinds, I believe we may be missing the point. The fact remains that 49 people were massacred and an additional 53 people were injured, some critically. How does so much hate; so much rage fill someone’s heart? And as a society are we partially to blame? Have we developed such a cavalier attitude in our nation toward gun violence that we can just accept the fact that these people were an unfortunate casualty? Surely not.

These are sons and daughters; brothers and sisters. These are children of God. Children of love.

It sickens me when I see and hear politicians posturing and pandering to the gun lobbyists. The Second Amendment, which was adopted Dec. 15, 1791, reads: “A well-regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.” Our forefathers certainly didn’t expect the Second Amendment to allow for any citizen to possess an assault rifle. These are weapons designed with one purpose in mind: to kill. And please spare me the “guns don’t kill people; people kill people” crap. Because guns kill. AR-15 assault rifles kill.

So more love is needed. More understanding is required. More compassion is necessary. More love. Less hate.

I believe most disturbing is the idea expressed by some small-minded misanthrope that God is punishing the sinfulness of these victims. That by being gay; they were sinful. But God is love. And God didn’t create us to hate us. As a Christian I believe that the Holy Spirit embodies the love that God (the parent) and Jesus (the son) have for one another. As a parent myself, my heart is broken for the parents of these victims. I would remind them that their child was loved and loving. That their lives, although cut short, were a reflection of the love God has for each of us. My words can never fill the void in their hearts and souls left by the loss of their precious children. But I can love.

And more love is needed…

Peace,

Denis

Granddaughtered

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

Today I’m counting my blessings.

In 2004 our first granddaughter was born. In 2008 another granddaughter was born. In 2010 a grandson joined our brood. In 2013 our third granddaughter was born. In 2016 our blessings continue! Gwendolyn Elizabeth Wilhelm was born last week. That makes four granddaughters and one grandson in case anyone is keeping score. So we are definitely granddaughtered. And I love these girls (and that boy)!

gwenWhen our first granddaughter was born I didn’t know that one tiny little creature could possess such transformative powers. But she changed my life forever. She made me realize in so many ways that life is worth living and that our world needs more love, especially the kind that little girls bring. Maurice Chevalier sang “Thank Heaven for Little Girls” and I do. I thank God each day for my beautiful granddaughters. They are kind, brave, smart, and loving little girls. Someday they will become women who are kind, brave, smart and loving. And they will make our world a better place. These granddaughters of mine might do great things. These granddaughters of mine might create new inventions, cure diseases, save the environment, create peace in our world, and be remembered throughout all of history as heroines. None of that matters to me because they are already my heroes. Their joy fills my soul.

Gwen is not even two weeks old and she has already carved a hole in my heart that only she can fill. She brings me great hope for our future. She will fulfill dreams that have yet to be dreamed. She will witness things in her life that I cannot even imagine. She is a precious gift from God. I will always be her grandfather and she will always be my granddaughter. We are linked forever. Nothing will ever change that.

I believe that all of my granddaughters (and my grandson) are reminders that God thinks this world is worth carrying on. While I’m holding Gwen in my arms, it’s easy for me to imagine that someday she may be steadying my old hands and helping me walk alongside her. She may be the one who brings this old man comfort in his final days. And I will have one more blessing to count.

Peace,

Denis

 

 

 

 

Guadalupe Meets Buddha

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

zhuijaojaoGrowing up in the Midwest, my world was pretty small. Growing up Catholic and attending parochial schools made my world even smaller. To say that my life was insular is an understatement. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to know more – I just didn’t know anything else. Everyone that I knew had a mom and a dad; went to mass on Sunday; lived in a modest house; played in one another’s backyards; had a crucifix and pictures of President Kennedy and Pope John XXIII somewhere in their home; and were mostly happy (at least on the outside). I’m glad that I grew up and out and away from that life but I still remember my childhood with nostalgia. Some things haven’t changed but many things have. I believe that I have.

When I reflect on where I came from and where I am today, I become more aware of the tremendous chasm between what once was and what my life is now. I’ve lived in England. I work in Mexico. I’ve traveled the world. I have friends in England, China, Mexico, Canada, France, The Philippines and The Netherlands. I have strolled through castles in Scotland and Germany. Toured museums in Paris, Madrid and Rome. Walked down cobblestone streets in England and France. Prayed in temples, churches, abbeys and cathedrals in London, Strasberg, Mexico City, Zhujiajiao, Heidelberg and Amsterdam. As an adult I’ve had experiences that I couldn’t even imagine as I child. Today I live only a few miles from where I was born but my world is so much bigger. I respect where I’ve come from and how my upbringing formed my conscience and my beliefs but I am grateful for the experiences of this life that have expanded my horizons.

Last month I joined my manufacturing team from Mexico City on a trip to China. We were touring factories in Shanghai to give the team from Mexico some insight into successful practices being employed there. We were entering the offices of one facility and my good friend and business associate from China stopped in front of a statue of Buddha that is prominently displayed in his lobby. He asked if any of us had a coin. A member of my team from Mexico pulled a peso out of her purse. She was asked to place it on the statue of Buddha, which she did. It was explained to us that this simple act would bring peace and good luck to us and to our friend from China. I couldn’t help but think of all the statues of Our Lady of Guadalupe that I have encountered in nearly every factory, employee lounge and public place in Mexico. Of course my friends from Mexico honored the request because they are so familiar with devotion to Guadalupe. Buddha in many ways is looked upon the same way in China. His image is everywhere and perhaps is dealt with somewhat superstitiously, as are images of Guadalupe sometimes in Mexico.

But on that day, at that time, the connection was real. It’s not often in business that I have a spiritual awakening. Placing the coin on Buddha wasn’t just some hocus-pocus good luck nonsense. I may have grown up in a small town in the Midwest and my childhood experiences may have been limited but here I was in China with my friends and co-workers from Mexico sharing this moment. We weren’t arguing over political or religious differences. None of us were intent on proving our practices or our beliefs were the best. Instead we were reaching out and embracing one another’s cultures. It was done with respect and humility. We had all come from different places but that day we were focused on our similarities not our differences.  And I believe that God was pleased and we were all blessed.

Peace,

Denis

 

Birthday Wishes

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

Today is my birthday. I was greeted by my lovely wife Debbie this morning with a sleepy “Happy Birthday” and her sweet smile, which I cherish all the more because I know that mornings are not typically a happy time for her. Two of my grandkids called on their way to school with their cheery little voices bringing sunshine on this foggy morning. Of course my daughter, my mom, my sister and brother have all called which makes me feel loved as well. Folks at work have been wishing me a “Happy Birthday” which may be more likely because I’m the boss but I’d like to think that a few of the wishes are sincere. Many more emails and Facebook posts add to the feeling of being cared about on this day. Birthday wishes are affirming. They cost nothing to give (expect the Hallmark variety) and they are worth so much to the receiver. I feel especially blessed today. And tonight when I blow out the candles on my cake, it will be my turn to “make a wish”. The only problem is that I have more than one wish. Perhaps the more candles that you have, the more wishes you should be allowed – I hope so anyway.birthday-109a

Here are my wishes:

I wish that I was fluent in Spanish because my Mexican friends speak such beautiful English (and I would like to return the favor).

I wish I had the energy to play all the games that my grandson wants to play.

I wish that my beautiful granddaughters will always keep a little of the innocence that they now possess.

I wish that I would have gotten some of that wisdom that’s supposed to come with age.

I wish that bacon, cheeseburgers, pizza and M&M McFlurries were all calorie free.

I wish that laughter would be a part of every day for the rest of my life.

I wish that I could give more, take less, and always be grateful for what I have.

I wish that all people would be treated with dignity, respect and kindness.

I wish that love would triumph over hatred in our hearts, in our homes, and in our world.

I wish that I might live just one day longer than Debbie (so that she’s never alone and that I’m not alone too long).

Happy Birthday to me!

Peace,

Denis

 

 

 

Love Endures

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

mom dad weddingIn 1947 an 18 year-old girl named Dot and an (almost) 21 year-old guy named George tied the knot. He having recently completed his stint with the Navy in World War II and she fresh off the farm, these two kids met in August of 1946 and were married the following spring. For him it was love at first sight. For her it took a little convincing but not too much.

Sixty-nine years, four children, seven grandchildren, ten great-grandchildren (with an eleventh on the way) later, my parents are celebrating their wedding anniversary. And their love endures.

In an ever-changing world they have been a constant in my life. They have shared good times and bad. They have laughed and cried together. They have worked hard and played even harder. And their love endures.

Their marriage has survived 12 U.S presidents, 7 popes, the Korean War, Frank Sinatra, the building and demolition of the Berlin Wall, the Cold War, Elvis Presley, the Cuban Missile Crisis, the Kennedy Assassination, the Vietnam War, the Tonight Show, the political turbulence and racial unrest of the 1960’s, the Beatles, the Moon Landing, the “Me Decade” of the 1970’s, disco music, the Watergate Scandal, the Aids epidemic, Reaganomics, the technological advances of the 1990’s, Madonna and Michael Jackson, the Oklahoma City bombing, Oprah Winfrey, the 2000 millennium, Nancy Grace and Doctor Phil, hip-hop, 9-11, American Idol, gay marriage, iPhones, iPads and cars that can parallel park themselves. And their love endures.

mom dad 69I am blessed to be equal parts of both of them. I’d like to think that I’m the best parts of both of them. I know that I have Dad’s ears and chin and forehead and well, pretty much everything else. But the important parts are less about physical attributes and genetics and more about what has been imparted. Mom taught me how to pray. Dad taught me how to tell a good joke. Mom taught me the importance of cleanliness. Dad taught me the importance of family. Mom taught me how to do math in my head. Dad taught me how to build and fix things (and how to cuss when things don’t build or fix easily). Mom taught me that “early risers” get to enjoy the best part of the day. Dad taught me that watching old movies late at night can be just as rewarding. They both taught me how to love.

And Dad gave me the best advice ever on my wedding day. “When you have a fight, and you will, always be the first one to say you’re sorry. It won’t matter if she’s wrong and you’re right – just say you’re sorry. It’ll be the truth, too. Because you’ll be sorry that you fought.” I’ve never forgotten Dad’s words.

Having raised my own family and watching my grandkids growing up, I realize how important family is to me. I also know that the legacy of love and devotion of Dot and George will live on in generations yet to come.

Because their love endures.

Peace,

Denis

 

 

 

 

First Holy Communion

/ Denis Wilhelm / 1 Comment

Our granddaughter Anna will make her First Communion on Sunday. This is a big deal for Catholic families. It’s a coming-of-age in a young person’s spiritual life. A very young person. Anna is just eight years old and is truly a holy innocent. Her world is full of rainbows and butterflies. She ALWAYS sees the good in everyone and she is absolutely astounded when someone is deliberately unkind. She is a good girl. Actually, she is more than just a good girl, she is a perfect little girl. Smart, sweet, loving, kind and full of joy.

Anna and Nana

           Nana & Anna

As Catholics we believe that we receive Jesus in the Eucharist. Anna has prepared with her class and prayed with her family and now the time has come. She may not feel much different afterwards but I suspect she will recognize that God has blessed her in a special way on her First Communion day. Anna will be changed.

And the rest of us? We will all be blessed on her First Communion day. There will be a party with extended family and friends after the mass but the real celebration will take place as she walks up that aisle to receive the Eucharist for the first time. But that’s not enough, we must receive and believe, too. We become changed.

We have a big word in Catholicism – transubstantiation. It means that by consecration of the bread and wine there takes place a change of the whole substance of the bread into the substance of the body of Christ and of the whole substance of the wine into the substance of his blood. Sounds a little heady but the idea is simple. We consume Christ and we are changed. We receive the Christ who makes us one with himself and with one another. Not alone, but in community, we become the Body of Christ. The words the priest says during the consecration is only part of it. Not until the Eucharist is shared with the congregation does transubstantiation truly take place.

Eucharist is the great equalizer. Sinners and saints. Rich and poor. Young and old. We all come to the altar. We receive and we are changed. We become Christ to one another.

I know that this Sunday will be a special day for Anna. My prayer is that every Sunday after this one will also be special for her as she becomes part of the Body of Christ. She is already an example of God’s overwhelming love for us. And my blessings continue…

Peace,

Denis

He  broke the bread and said, “This is my body that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” In the same way also the cup, after supper, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.” 1 Corinthians 11:24-25

 

Alleluias and Easter Bunnies

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Throw open the shutters. Spring has arrived! Daffodils and tulips and the dogwood are blooming. Birds are singing. New life is in abundance!

Tomorrow is Easter Sunday, the day in which Christians celebrate Christ’s rising from the dead. As believers, our salvation is ‘a done deal’ if we choose the gift of His redemption. So churches will be filled to capacity.

Easter 1958aWe need the joy of Easter. It is a welcome balm that can ease the pain in our world. I for one love the carnival atmosphere of Easter Sunday services. Kids dressed in itchy new Easter clothes barely able to sit still because of all the candy that they have consumed before breakfast; beleaguered parents who rose before dawn to hide eggs and prepare baskets full of the aforementioned candy for the little darlings; folks who have not been to church in a while looking conspicuously out-of-place; ‘the regular-attenders’ barely able to conceal their annoyance of having to share their pew. We squeeze in and make room for all. And we love and forgive and ask for forgiveness for the times that we have failed to love. The Alleluias return!

Baked ham, lamb with mint jelly, hot cross buns, deviled eggs and asparagus will adorn our dining tables. Desserts will be rich and plentiful. And don’t forget the candy, surreptitiously snatched from the kiddies Easter baskets while they’re being distracted by yet another treat left behind by the Easter Bunny. Welcome home Springtime!

Some Christians are bothered by all the focus on the Easter Bunny, feeling that it diminishes the sanctity of Easter. After all what does a bunny that hides eggs and gives candy have to do with our Risen Savior? I’m not sure. But what difference does it make? Easter supplanted pre-Christian spring festivals and it doesn’t make it any less sacred to me.

So I’ll welcome the Easter Bunny to hop into my back garden again this year and hide his (her) eggs and leave behind some treats. I’ll smell the sweet aroma of new flowers and tree blossoms. I’ll love and forgive and ask for forgiveness. I’ll eat some ham and sing my Alleluias. And be thankful for it all.

Peace,

Denis

 “Why do you seek the living one among the dead?” Luke 24:5

 

Acting Like Her Mother (but it’s not really an act)

/ Denis Wilhelm / Leave a comment

How many times have you heard someone say, “She acts just like her mother.” or “He behaves just like his father.”? Usually it’s intended as a compliment or a recognition of some admirable trait. Sometimes during marital discord it could seem like an accusation, “You need to stop acting like your father!” The accused might then respond, “Oh really?” “Why don’t you stop acting like your mother!” But that’s another blog post…

bess annaToday I’m writing about how much some kids act like their parents. This “acting-like” behavior is not just genetic imprinting. I believe it’s a learned behavior. I’ve seen it in adoptive families. We all model the behavior we learn as children. Our parents (good or bad) are our first teachers. As adults most of us have experienced the sensation of opening our mouths only to have our mother’s or father’s words come out. It’s almost as if we lose momentary control and someone else takes over – if not our thoughts, definitely our words. Sometimes with regret but always with a sense of astonishment, we hear the words once spoken to us as children and now we are actually saying the same things and WE CANNOT STOP IT.

Fortunately for most of us this is a pleasant experience. Our daughter has a daughter who is her “spitting image”. Not only do they look alike but at times their behavior is startlingly similar. Anna acts so much like her Mommy that my wife and I often chuckle to ourselves. Our daughter Bess is not always amused, but I know that it is a good thing. Bess should be grateful after all, if Anna is half as good a daughter as she is, her life will be blessed. Bess and Anna don’t just look and act alike. They laugh the same way and at the same things. They share some of the same fears. They react to surprises both good and bad identically. These two have a spiritual and emotional connection that allows them to sense one another’s feelings. As the saying goes, “When one cries, the other can taste salt”. What a gift to one another.

Of course, I suppose it is a little disarming to “see yourself” so clearly in your own child, particularly those parts that you least appreciate. But it is a double blessing for me to see my beautiful daughter wrapped up inside my beautiful granddaughter.

God has given us a glimpse of immortality with all this ‘carrying-on’ as our parents before us. I just hope that the next time I “act like my Dad” I remember to thank God for that gift, too.

Peace,

Denis

P.S. Here’s a song that all mothers can sing to their daughters ~