Mary van Balen

Last night, after dinner and prayer, my spirituality group blessed my new flat! A beautiful surprise. One arrived with a sprig of green and placed it in a vase on the buffet. When the evening was drawing to a close, Noreen said, "There are six spaces here, and six of us. Each pick a space and bless it, speaking from your heart."

Dipping the green into a bowl of water, Ann went without hesitation to the kitchen where she sprinkled the counter built by my brother, the stove, sink, and pantry made by my daughter and spoke of the joy of preparing food for self and friends, and hoped I would enjoy this kitchen space as much as she enjoys hers.

Denis took the sprig and blessed the dining area and table where friends and family gather. "May they be filled and satisfied not only with food, but with spirit."

Lavonne took the sprig. "We're traveling," she said and walked to the bathroom where the colorful "map of the world" shower curtain adds brightness to the small space. Read More 

The sun beat down on artists, poets, and gallery visitors gathered for the opening of the "Language of Art" exhibit that featured twenty-five selected pieces of art and poems written in response to them. One by one, poets took center stage and read their works. I sat in a plastic lawn chair and watched, noting the variety of forms poets take: young and old, men and women. Some women readers wore pumps and dresses, others jeans and t-shirts. One walked up and halfway through her poem her hands began to shake. She put one behind her back while the other shook the paper.

"Such a small group," I thought, "and she is so nervous. She must not be accustomed to reading her work before an audience." I admired her commitment to her art. One man wore a sports jacket. Others were more casual. Each was given rapt attention and applause when they had finished. All of us sat, listened, and sweated together until the last line was read, when we moved back into the gallery to cool off and study again the art and poems displayed beside them. Read More 

“The kingdom of heaven is like a king who prepared a wedding banquet for his son... “Then he sent some more servants and said, ‘Tell those who have been invited that I have prepared my dinner: My oxen and fattened cattle have been butchered, and everything is ready. Come to the wedding banquet.’ Mt 22, 1-2;4


"I'm too frazzled!" my older sister, Jan, said as she walked back into the front door of her home a minute after having left. "I'm looking for my phone. Have you seen it? I'll call my self. If you hear it ring, bring it out to the car. I'll go out as see if I have it somewhere in my purse."

She disappeared through the door again. I heard no ring, walked to the front door, looked out, and saw her giving me a thumbs up. I walked back to the kitchen, hung up the phone and smiled as I looked at the cake and supplies waiting in the family room for pick up.

My sister's youngest of five children (and only daughter) had been married in Texas two months ago. Today Jan and Howard are having a reception for the new couple in their hometown for family and friends who were unable to make the trip to Texas.

No wonder Jan was feeling frazzled. Despite a troublesome back and a full schedule helping with grandchildren, involvement in an outreach to the poor in a crowded urban city, and various commitments to her church community, Jan had managed to bake her wonderful carrot cake into a large, three tiered wedding cake. Read More 

IMAGE: Theotokos "Eleusa-Kiska" by Simon Ushakov 1668

The shepherds hurried away to Bethlehem and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby lying in the manger. When they saw the child they repeated what they had been told about him, and everyone who heard it was astonished at what the shepherds had to say. As for Mary, she treasured all these things and pondered them in her heart. And the shepherds went back glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen; it was exactly as they had been told. Lk 2, 16-20

On this feast of Mary, Mother of God, I imagine Mary pondering not only the birth of Jesus and what immediately followed, but also the countless mysteries of her life. This icon conveys closeness and warmth between Mary and her son. Both appear to look beyond what is immediately visible to some deeper reality. Perhaps what they see is Love, God's desire for intimacy with us. The ability to perceive such grace comes from their relationship. Read More 

PHOTO: Mary van Balen
Why should I be honoured with a visit from the mother of my Lord? For the moment your greeting reached my ears, the child in my womb leapt for joy. Yes, blessed is she who believed that the promise made her by the Lord would be fulfilled.’ Lk 1, 43-45

The alarm sounded at 2:30am. For a moment, I couldn't remember why. The eclipse! I bounded out of bed, stuffed my fluffy-socked feet into warm black boots, threw on my coat over the white robe wrapped tightly around me, and opened the door into the night. Crunching over snow, I walked to the backyard and looked upward. Read More 

PHOTO: Mary van Balen
Send victory like a dew, you heavens,
and let the clouds rain it down.
Let the earth open
for salvation to spring up.
Let deliverance, too, bud forth
which I, the Lord, shall create.
Is 45,7

Thinking of something budding at this time of year is hopeful. At the beginning of Advent, I bought a small Christmas Cactus plant for that reason. The first blossom has emerged, but a number of the tiny magenta buds have dropped. I don't know that that means; I hope not that no more buds will open.

Today's first reading reminded me of my new plant, and of the cold blanketing bulbs and plants outside. When I think of the earth being "open," as Isaiah writes, I think of spring planting when farmers plow and gardeners turn over soil with spades and trowels. But, thinking of the earth's openness in this season brings something else to mind. Read More 

PAINTING: The Annunciation by Henry Ossawa Tanner

Before the world was made, he chose us: he chose us in Christ, to be holy and spotless, and to live through love in his presence.
Ephesians 1,4


In the Roman Catholic calender, today is the feast of the Immaculate Conception of Mary. Sometimes confused with the virgin birth of Jesus, it celebrates Mary's conception without original sin, the human condition that inclines us to do what we know we shouldn't and not do what we know we should. I admit that I have never found this particular feast compelling; the explanation of "being free from the stain of original sin" sounds esoteric and, well, odd. I never could get into the "stain of original sin" language. I read something on the Universalis website that helped me begin thinking about this feast in a new way. Read More 

PHOTO: Mary van Balen
Unexpected activity on the homefront resulted in my arriving late for Mass,and I walked in while the celebrant was delivering his homily.

Bill, one of the hospitality misinters that morning, gave me an especially long, warm hug. I put my head on his shoulder and thanked him for his welcome. I love my little parish. No one feels judged there. All are welcome, even when they are late.  Read More 

PHOTOS:Mary van Balen
I live in the house where she and dad raised my four silblings and me. I sit on their couch, launder clothes in the washer she'd used for years and gaze out the dining room window, watching squirrels scamper up and down the grand pin oak in the front yard. Just like mom did, and her mother before her. Over the past two years since she died, many things remind me of her and I miss her face, her hugs, her love.

Thanksgiving preparations put an ache in my heart, a deep-down "missing mom" that lingered over dinner and remained as I fell into bed.

I used her rolling pin to make pie crusts.

"There's nothing to making a pie crust," she always said. Her mother, Becky, who lived with us, had said the same thing. I believed them and have made my own pastry since I could reach the counter. With every handful of flour, every pass of the rolling pin over the dough, I thought of her and tried to put as much love as she had done into each pie.

"Mom," I said, "I could use one of your smiles, or comments that everything will be fine. Read More 

PHOTO: Mary van Balen
When my alarm rang this morning, I struggled to leave the comfort of my warm bed. A schedule change required a half-hour drive for allergy shots before work rather than after. The day was gray and rainy. After visiting the doctor's office, I decided to stop at a local Panera's to pick up a breakfast sandwich and coffee; the drive to work was close to an hour and the day would be long.

A young man with the interesting nametag "RAF" cheerfully took my order, but when I reached for my wallet, it was not there. Read More