Theresa A. Thomas

  • Inspirations for decision-filled times

    Michael, my second son and a recent college graduate, moved to Wilmington, N.C., last month to begin his new job. In the months prior he had a difficult decision to make. He had been considering going to law school and had studied for and taken the LSAT exam.

    His scores put him nicely in the “highly desired” applicant category, and he had many acceptances and even offers for his tuition to be paid. But then came the job offer for the company at which he now works. The deal included inclusion in a highly regarded financial management program with a Fortune 500 company — a great career with a nice salary in uncertain financial times.

    Many said Mike was in a great position — choosing between good and good. And he was. But to him, that didn’t make the decision any easier. He thought, considered, prayed, and made what I think was a great decision, but it wasn’t easy.

    Just a little over a month later, Mike and I were talking on the phone.

    Hurricane Irene was headed straight for Wilmington, and being an Indiana boy, he wasn’t used to hurricane warnings. He was trying to determine what prudent action was versus overreaction. Should he leave or should he stay?

    This time I joined in the prayers for his choice. As it turned out, he taped up his windows, pulled his furniture off his ground floor bedroom and headed with his roommate to Duke in Durham, N.C., which was a nice 60 miles inland.

    The storm passed. He was safe. It was another good decision.

    Life is full of decisions. In this column, I’d simply like to share a few thoughts that have inspired me over the years when facing them. And maybe you’ll find them helpful if you are in the position to help others make important decisions too.

    • When big decisions loom before you and you feel overwhelmed with options, project yourself in the future and look at the present as past. Which decision do you feel most comfortable with?

    Take it in prayer and leave it at our Lord’s feet. (Eucharistic Adoration is great for this!) Ask Him for direction and clarity. Then let it go. The answer will come to you. It may not always be what you want to hear, but you will have peace.

    • “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, on your own intelligence rely not; In all your ways be mindful of Him, and He will make straight your paths.” — Prv 3:5-6

    • “But if any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God who gives to all generously and ungrudgingly, and he will be given it.” — Jas 1:5

    • “And we have this confidence in Him, that if we ask anything according to His will, He hears us. And if we know that He hears us in regard to whatever we ask, we know that what we have asked Him for is ours.” — 1 Jn 5:14-15

    Finally, I will add a few facts that you probably already know, but might want to be reminded of concerning decision making.

    • God already knows what you need before you ask. Trust He will take care of you. Offer the stress you feel back to Him as a gift of trust.

    • Many people find it difficult to work in a cluttered room. They feel distracted, unsettled and the need to clean. Likewise, many people find it difficult to make good decisions with a “dirty” soul. Going to Confession can clean things up spiritually and make us all more capable of making clear and good decisions.

    • Jesus gives Himself in the Holy Eucharist. This is His real Body, His true Blood. If Jesus was standing down at the corner café, we’d be rushing to meet Him, wouldn’t we? We’d seek His counsel there and not think twice about interrupting our daily routine to go to Him. Likewise, when faced with a difficult decision, we should go Mass and receive Him in the Holy Eucharist. God’s grace and indeed His Self is available if we only seek Him.

    Big decisions are a part of life, but we don’t have to face them alone. We can minimize stress by handling them with faith and trust in God. Remind yourself that nothing is too big for God to handle. Choose your favorite inspirational Bible quote and stick it in a conspicuous spot. Then head to church, because the answer is always there.

    Posted on September 7, 2011, to:

  • Salt in the most unusual places

    Last week, I had the fortunate opportunity to travel with seven of my children and my husband to Los Angeles to visit my oldest son, who is now living and working in Hollywood.

    When people find out David has moved to Hollywood they sometimes act a little surprised.  Some have sarcastically commented, “Well, how’s that going?” or even, “I would ‘never’ go out there, Godforsaken place.” Sometimes I just get an “Ohh!”

    The truth is, I never wanted him to move 2,000 miles away, but I didn’t feel it was right to try to prevent it if his career opportunities lie in that direction and if he felt God pulled him there. My husband and I tried to provide solid catechesis and model an active sacramental life to our children as they grew up.

    We stressed, that so long as they live their Catholic faith and retain their morals and values of their upbringing, we will support their careers and location choices, even if it takes them far from us. Who are we to thwart what God may have in the works for them?

    Knowing that God has a unique mission or plan for each of us, and being familiar with my sister’s own unusual vocation — a consecrated lay person who once served as a missionary in Siberia and Africa — we easily realized that an “average,” cookie-cutter life is not always what God has planned. Sometimes He calls people to be “missionaries” in the strangest places.

    The strange place I never imagined my son would be is Hollywood. After completing the Act One Executive Program for Christians and graduating from a Catholic university, he headed west to get a job in the business side of creating movies.

    The Catholic Church has always been a patron of the arts, commissioning the creation of paintings, cathedrals and music. Movies are a newer art form, but have equal opportunity to inspire, persuade and enrich the lives of those around them. They also have the potential to corrupt, which initially worried me sick.

    In any career you choose, you have choices. You can be a decent human being in any respectable job, or you can be a despicable one.

    You can live your faith strongly and quietly and be an example to others around you, or you can succumb to peer pressures and temptations.

    It is imperative that good influences be in all art forms. Movies, like any other product, are not created in a vacuum. If there is no positive influence in the industry, a negative one will fill the void.

    Skill, excellence and quality count in every business. When skill and excellence are paired with the quality of truth, beauty and goodness of an authentic faith, amazing things can happen.

    If no respectable citizens enter politics, what hope do we have for our nation? If no moral men and women choose finance or banking careers, what hope do we have for the business world? If Christians reject careers in the movie industry only because of potential pitfalls, how can we expect the production of quality, inspirational films?

    Jesus said his disciples were the “salt of the earth.” Salt is used to season and preserve foods. Just a little salt can improve or change the entire taste of a dish, and it is not easily removed from a food once added. Salt is most needed where it is least found.

    When our son moved to Hollywood to pursue his career, I had moments of despair and distress. I was sure that the culture there would change him. But then I heard how one older woman noted his work ethic and weekly Mass attendance. She called him “amazing” and said she was impressed because she had “never met a young man his age that is pro-life.”

    Slowly, I saw him making friendships with like-minded people, and networking with the same. He started to mentor a popular young actor. Who knows what influence that will have on others who follow the actor as a role model? We’ll have to wait and see. A little ripple could become a big one.

    Don’t be afraid to go somewhere or do something where you will be in the minority and your faith might be challenged. John’s Gospel says, “Perfect love casts out fear,” and God is perfect love.

    If you frequent the sacraments and cling to your faith, you and your children can be salt of the earth. You can be channels of grace anywhere and everywhere you go — in the factory or office, main street or Wall Street and yes, even Hollywood.

    Posted on August 10, 2011, to:

  • Making your mark

    There it was — “Angela,” written on the front of the peanut butter jar. When I asked my six year old why she did it, she stopped what she was doing and said simply, “I wanted everyone to know I was going to eat peanut butter.” When she wrote her name on the sheets a few years ago, I had asked a similar question. “Why did you write your name on there?” The answer then had been, “I don’t know. … I was there.”

    It’s not the first time one of our children has made his or her mark on an item in our home. With nine children, over the years I’ve found names written practically everywhere — on the walls, in books, on the sidewalk, and on shower doors, among other places. Sometimes the names are bold and large. Other times, they are tiny. It doesn’t seem to bother the kids that they’re found out automatically by signing their names. They somehow seem to need to say, “I’m here. I was here.” Or “This is mine.” Writing one’s name on something denotes ownership … or simply signifies one’s undeniable presence.

    The day my husband and I moved out of our very first house we went up into the small, walk-in closet on the second floor of the tiny Cape Cod home, and squeezed into it together. My husband had remembered writing “David Thomas was here” on the basement wall in his old childhood home as a kid, and that gave us the idea for what we were about to do. We looked briefly at one another in the dim 25 watt light emanating from the old bulb. And then I giggled … and handed him a pen. There we sat, together, slouched in that teeny, slanted ceiling second-story closet and he wrote, “David and Theresa Thomas 1987 to 1993. Thanks for the memories” in indelible pen. Then we left.

    We never really stop wanting to leave a mark, do we? We all want to make our claims, our marks on the world. We want others to know that we were here, that we did something. Authors write books, sometimes, with the hope of leaving something that extends beyond their natural lifetime. In fact, entire civilizations have left monuments and other stately physical structures in order to state their existence and “leave something” for posterity.

    While physical marks are one type of leaving evidence of one’s presence, there are other intangible ways of making a mark. “Making a name for oneself” is one expression of this, but in fact, every single thing we do leaves a mark of some kind on the world. Like a pebble in a pond which creates a ripple, every word we say, every task we undertake, affects others around us in some way. Everything we do, for good or for naught, affects others and thus directly or indirectly affects society.

    I remember seeing a cartoon that depicted a boss yelling at a man, who went home and then snapped at his wife, who was then impatient with their child, who then kicked the dog. It’s a domino effect and the default mode of human nature — to react in kind unless we make conscious choices to do otherwise.

    The ripple effect can also be positive. One kind word can start the domino of kindness and we won’t know until life’s end the true effect of one considerate and caring gesture.

    Yukio Shige is a retired Japanese man who spends most of his days at Tojimbo Cliffs, a venue where many despondent people come to commit suicide. He simply observes the people who come to the cliff. When he notices someone alone who appears distraught or anxious he approaches that person and engages in conversation, often preventing the life-ending action the person came to commit. His simple action has left a profound mark on the world, in the lives of those he has saved and in the lives of those who will now come into contact with those he has saved.

    One of my favorite movies is “It’s a Wonderful Life” where George Bailey finds out what the world would be like without him. It turns out, there are many lives that the simple but good George has touched, lives who would be unalterably different had he never been born.

    What about us? What kind of mark are we making in our little circle of the universe? Each of us comes into contact with a unique group of people and we have a unique area of influence. What will be our mark for posterity?

    Posted on June 29, 2011, to:

  • I want to hold your hand

    In the summer of 1979 I was 16 years old. One muggy, warm evening I was picked up by my first date ever and went to the county 4-H fair. As my date and I were engaging in polite conversation and making our way through crowds of people to a stand where you tossed rings around bottles to win oversized stuffed animals, the young man, just two years my senior, turned suddenly and his hand brushed against mine. A wave of excitement rushed through me. Just a gentle touch of the hand made me think suddenly, acutely, of nothing but him. Years later that same hand took mine on our wedding day when my first date became my husband who promised to love and cherish me the rest of our lives. I remember the security I felt with fingers entwined, us against the world, as we walked down the church aisle as Mr. and Mrs., and emerged as a new couple, a new team.

    Sometimes, on Sundays after Mass, we would drive into Michigan City, where his grandparents lived. His grandfather, who was nearly blind and could hardly walk, sat in a rocking chair by the window. I would sit by him and offer my hand. He clenched it tightly. As he recounted stories of his youth he would squeeze my hand or gently tap it with a finger. He had lost one of his thumbs in an accident but that did not deter his lively hand gestures or exuberance in grabbing my hand. He seemed to gain strength from that simple physical contact. There was a relational power in that effortless act that took understanding deeper than mere words or glances ever could.

    The first Christmas my husband and I spent together was not in a cozy corner of our home or our parents’ homes. Rather, we spent the day in the hospital emergency room. My husband held my hand before I was whisked away for a D and C. I had miscarried our first child earlier that day and complications were arising that necessitated the procedure. I was young. I was scared, but the squeeze of my husband’s hand gave me the courage to get through that difficult day. Four more times, we suffered the loss of a child, and each time my husband was there, offering his support … and his hand.

    My husband also held my hand during the births of our nine children, and he probably still has nail marks on his palms from when I had to have a bone marrow biopsy and I dug my fingers deep into him.

    When our oldest was an infant, I loved to sit in the rocking chair, with him. As infants do, he clutched my finger when I put it in his palm. It was our first hand-hold. Soon, along came his brother. The three of us would take walks every day, and I loved holding their hands as we strolled along, exploring the neighborhood.

    With each child added to our family, our hand-holding circle grew. We held hands as we read books together, relaxed on the sofa and as I sat by them, first next to the cribs, then the beds, until they drifted off to sleep at night. I didn’t worry about rushing off to get something done in the evenings. Somehow I innately knew the time was limited and there wouldn’t always be the opportunity to simply share moments of fingers intertwined.

    I recently read an article in which a doctor stated that hand-holding reduces stress. I believe it. A study by psychology experts at the University of Virginia found that subjects who held someone’s hand during a difficult procedure were more relaxed than those not holding hands. They further found that the greatest hand-holding benefits came from spousal hand-holding. Researchers concluded that there are measurable benefits of being socially connected, and of close physically-expressed, emotional relationships.

    To hold someone’s hand you have to trust them. Holding hands, non-verbally, says, “I want to relate to you and words are not enough — or even necessary.” Hand holding can convey love or courage. It can demonstrate affection or understanding. You can’t hold someone’s hand and stay mad at them for long. Words may be misspoken or misunderstood. Holding hands cuts through misunderstanding. Holding hands is real.

    When we help we “lend a hand.” When we applaud we “give a hand.” But what about simply holding a hand? I think the world would be a better place if we just did that.
    Are you a hand-holder or not? Write me at TheresaThomasEveryday Catholic@gmail.com

    Posted on May 31, 2011, to:

  • Mysteries in the hardware store

    I ran into a friend in the hardware store yesterday. She was in the paint section, looking to match some paint to refresh some of her rooms. I was also in the paint section, hoping to find some clean, pretty colors to replace our wallpaper. I hate wallpaper.

    Anyway, Susan is the mother of my daughter’s best friend, and I hadn’t seen her since last summer. We had so much to talk about. Right then and there, between samples of Harvest gold and Limoncello yellow we caught up as best we could, chatting about our daughters — their year so far in college, their stressors, their concerns.

    And then we turned to discuss our other children. When I got to my adult son who is living far away from my husband and me (on the opposite side of the country, in fact), Susan said something that jolted me in a good way. As I described to her my pain of my son leaving the nest and working so far from us she interjected, “That’s the Ascension.”

    “What?” I asked

    “That’s the Ascension. You’re going through what Mary went through at the Ascension.”

    She was referring to the event and the second glorious mystery of the rosary.

    Hmm. I guessed so. Pain of separation. He was doing his work far from me. I always thought of the Ascension from the ‘significance to the faithful’ point of view — Jesus’ work was done and He was returning to heaven. Susan made me think of the event from His mother’s perspective. Interesting.

    As we continued to talk I mentioned another event in my life. She slid in with “Oh! The Visitation.”

    Yes, I suppose. I was experiencing something similar to Mary in that moment too. As our conversation continued, Susan continued to point out parallels in my life to certain mysteries of the rosary. It was a combination of comforting and feeling déjà vu. I liked it.

    And that’s when I realized what Susan had known all along — that the rosary mysteries could not only be meditations on the great events of Jesus’ life in terms of their significance to mankind in general, but they could be peeks into the mysteries of our personal lives as well. They were opportunities to relate to Him in a more personal way. As Catholics we are to unite our sufferings to Jesus on the cross to see their redemptive power. Our joys can also more fully unite us to God as we ponder their significance in our lives — what God might be trying to say to us in each mystery event, in each moment that we experience something similar, if even in a small way.

    The “Agony in the Garden” in the sorrowful mysteries, for example, not only reminds us of the torturous suffering that Jesus went through in anticipation of His brutal death but we can possibly more fully understand, relate to and maybe accept with resignation and offer up the anticipation of some dreaded event in our lives when we pray and ponder this mystery. A student might be dreading a test. A father might be dreading a presentation or separation from the family. A mother might be dreading a medical procedure or even the simple challenges of a particular day. By meditating upon Jesus’ acceptance of the Father’s will — in the Agony in the Garden He prayed, “Not mine but Your Will be done” — we can perhaps gain the courage to face our own cross, our own suffering, and approach it in the best way possible.

    In pondering the luminous mystery, Institution of the Eucharist, we might come to a better understanding of and appreciation for the Holy Eucharist and what a gift it is to us. Maybe that thought will get us to daily Mass or at least to approach it with a more appreciative and open heart the next Sunday that we go.

    In short, I realized what my friend Susan must have known a long time — that applying the mysteries of the rosary to my daily life is a way to make it a living prayer — something that can be prayed almost constantly, daily. I appreciate this insight from Susan, my “big sister in Christ,” and continue to be amazed how God uses little events and ordinary friends to teach us great things about Himself.

    Posted on April 26, 2011, to: