Mary van Balen

Even now, says the Lord, return to me with your whole heart, with fasting, and weeping, and mourning; Rend your hearts, not your garments, and return to the Lord, your God. For gracious and merciful is he, slow to anger, rich in kindness, and relenting in punishment. Perhaps he will again relent and leave behind him a blessing...
Joel 2, 12-14a



Ash Wednesday, and I did it all. Fasting. Weeping. Mourning. Rending heart. Well, most of it. The "return to the Lord, your God" is in process.

My day started out at the doctors office. 7:30 am. That alone is mortification. The early appointment was to insure I would not be late for work. I left too sore to go to work. Stopped by my local church hoping for Mass and ashes. Too late. Drove to another church. Just a little late. Stayed through ashes and Eucharist.

I came home, had toast with a smear of low fat cream cheese (ever notice how low fat cheese kind of shines, plastic-like? Not good.) and sat at my computer to work on revising, yet again, my book proposal. Read More 

The Lord's voice shattering the cedars;
The Lord shatters the cedars of Lebanon.
He makes Lebanon leap like a calf
And Sirion like a young ox.

The Lord's voice flashes flames of fire.
The Lord's voice shaking the wilderness,
The Lord's voice shakes the wilderness of Kadesh.
The Lord's voice rending the oak tree
And stripping th forest bare.
Ps. 29





The Psalm said the Lord’s voice shattered cedars. I looked around the Abbey Church. We were still standing, monks and the rest of us. All in all, morning prayer was pretty calm. A few voices stumbling to follow the chant. A few more following a more hurried pace, not yet used the monastic practice of pausing a bit at the end of each line regardless of punctuation. Prayer with the monks slows me down and gives God time to move into the hiatus. I have been here before. I know the pace will soon become habitual and when I return home, church will seem rushed.

But I am waiting for my heart to be shattered like the cedars. To feel Divine Power shaking me to my roots. Then I’ll know what to be about. What words to put down on paper…or in this case to fill the computer screen. Selling bras at Macy’s, doing laundry, watering flowers. It isn’t enough. Or it seems not to be. Then there was the customer who came by on Saturday just to wish me well at the workshop. Her daughter stopped by last week and told me her mom talks about me all the time. Recently widowed, she is a bit lost, and enjoys our conversations and my interest.

“Remember the worker priests of the 50’s and 60’s?” my counselor asked. “That is you. At Macy’s.” I guess she is right. I have women who come back to see me, sometimes just to talk, like Claire who wished me well, or Katherine, the sweet old woman in a wheelchair who told me she was so glad that she met me and had me fit her for bras. We spent forty minutes picking out three. There was the young woman who worked in the same department. She is a writer, too. Life had been beating her down lately. Assault. Illness. Separating parents. Medications. She missed too much work and was let go. I am sorry for that. She was great with customers and worked hard putting bras away, a thankless and futile exercise. We connected. I read her poetry. We hugged goodbye.

(Hmm the dragonfly at my backdoor. Does he want back in after I rescued him from the bathtub this morning? Or maybe just saying ‘thank you?’)

So, where is the soul-shaking I long for? Read More 

Sometimes we do anything to drive darkness away. The empty space inside our hearts, the "virginal emptiness" as Caryll Houselander calls it, can be uncomfortable. Even as we "wait" during Advent, we can fill our days with enough activity and preparation for Christmas day that we have no time or desire to experience the emptiness which God alone can fill. And honestly, who can blame us? Darkness can be scary. Like when we were children and wanted a night light or at least the bedroom door left ajar to let in light from the hallway. Who knew what lurked in the darkness under our beds, in the closets, or in the night?

When I saw this house and lawn covered with lights and every imaginable decoration from Santas to moose sitting on packages, I was reminded of the human tendency to light up the dark, even if the end result is as confusing and garish as these Christmas decorations. A nativity scene is tucked into the display, but is not lit and is better seen when the sun comes up and the electricity goes off. Read More 

For just as from the heavens
the rain and snow come down
and do not return there
till they have watered the earth,
making it fertile and fruitful,
giving seed to the one who sows
and bread to the one who eats,
so shall my word be
that goes forth from my mouth;
my word shall not return to me void,
but shall do my will,
achieving the end for which I sent it.
Is 55,10-11



I love the scope of Holy Saturday readings, from creation springing from the Word of God to Mary Magdalene and the other Mary encountering the risen Christ. Immersed in these Scriptures, one may sense the long wait, the movement from matter's beginnings to early life; from epoch to epoch; from early humans to Jesus' ancestors; from the promise of the Messiah to his coming.

While the earth waits for winter thaw and softening ground able to receive seed, we have waited through Lent. It seems long. When my children were younger, we spent the day before Easter coloring eggs, baking hot cross buns to share with neighbors and cleaning the house for the coming celebration. Easter was not yet, but its light and joy was already spreading into our hearts.

With Jesus' death fresh in their hearts and his resurrection unimagined and yet to come, Jesus' followers would have had a different experience. Read More 

Photo: Eprodicals.com
He is like a shepherd feeding his flock,
gathering lambs in his arms,
holding them against his breast
and leading to their rest the mother ewes. Is 40, 11

Tonight I came home from work hoping to write an encouraging or inspirational blog since I couldn't put one together this morning. I pulled up today's Mass readings, readings for the Liturgy of the Hours, and information on the saint whose feast we celebrate today: Saint Ambrose.

Good material, all of it, but I am not up for the task. Instead I identify with the mother ewes in the first reading who must have been completely exhausted. Isaiah doesn't say much about the mother ewes other than Jesus led them to their rest. Having raised three children I can identify with them. Children, blessing that they are, wear you out. "Physically, when you are younger," a theology prof once shared with me, "and emotionally when they are older."

Either way, the mother ends up worn out. Even though my weariness is not child related today,I am still one tired sheep. Read More 

PHOTOS: Mary van Balen
This year's Advent wreath reflects the non-traditional path I have been traveling and the beauties to be found in it. Many of my belongings are packed away and I was not sure what kind of wreath would mark the weeks of Advent. After unsuccessfully looking for the perfect blue and rose colored candles or candle holders, I decided to use what was at hand instead.

I drove to a friend's home, and together we walked past her old barn and along the paths that wind through fields and along fence rows to gather earth's bounty. I had nothing particular in mind and we kept eyes and hearts open to see what would be offered for the taking. Read More 

PHOTO: PAUL JASMER, OSB, Scillia bifolia
Hear, O Lord, when I cry aloud,
be gracious to me and answer me!
"Come," my heart says, "seek his face!"
Your face, Lord, do I seek.
Do not hide your face from me.
I believe that I shall see the goodness of the Lord
in the land of the living.
Wait for the Lord;
be strong, and let your heart, take courage;
wait for the Lord!
Ps 27, 7-9,; 13-14


This Psalm expresses what was in my heart as I drove down the highway towards my former home yesterday. I was heading down to pick out wall paint for my brother to use as we prepare the house for sale. I was overwhelmed with all the loose ends in my life: no job, no sure plans for the fall, a dissolution that takes time to work through, and my father had taken a turn for the worse, needing more hands to help day and night.

"Hear, O Lord, when I cry aloud, be gracious to me and answer me!" Those words could have been my own as I had what I sometimes call a "Tevia moment" with God, calling out through my tears: "I am worn out. I have had it. Answer me! I have chosen to work for the poor, for your church, for my family. Now I need something to open up for me!"  Read More 

PHOTO: MARY VAN BALEN


Make known to me your ways, Lord:
teach me your paths.
Guide me in your truth and teach me,
for you are God my savior.
For you I wait all the long day,
because of your goodness, Lord.
Ps 25, 4-5




How do we learn God's ways or discern God's paths? How do we learn Divine truth and allow it to guide us through life's daily challenges as well as times of life-changing choices?

For me, quiet prayer is the answer. I read and pray Scripture, practice Lectio Divina that is not only prayer, but also informs my writing. I try to use my gifts in service of God and others. But, even those activities, well intentioned as they are, are not the same as sitting quietly with my Compassionate Friend and being drawn deeper into the relationship that gives me life and purpose.  Read More 

PHOTO: MARY VAN BALEN


Rely on the mighty Lord;
constantly seek his face.
Recall the wondrous deeds he has done…
Ps 105, 4-5a


My spiritual director has to remind me from time to time to reflect on the history of God’s Presence in my past. This usually is necessary when I am struggling with my present. The Holy Mystery remains so mysterious that I cannot catch even a glimpse. My life, while interesting, is in chaos and I cannot discern a path. I am stuck in the midst of a plethora of possibilities or languishing for lack of any.

During these times I don’t feel much like rejoicing or proclaiming God’s wondrous deeds as the Psalmist suggests a few verses before these. The rest of the Psalm recounts God’s providential care of Israel until, in the end; God’s people had possession of the land and its wealth and could shout “Hallelujah!”

As I read and reread this Psalm, the plight of Joseph resonated with me. Not his final triumph, becoming the king’s right hand man, but the time of betrayal and imprisonment that preceded it.  Read More