Mary van Balen

"I think you have a cricket in your basement," my sister said after spending the night in "the guest room," a queen bed in the, thankfully dry, basement.

I investigated, and sure enough, the cricked was chirping loudly and stopped abruptly for a few moments when I turned on the lights. Her hiatus was brief, and then her song bounced off the cement block walls once again.

Today, I found her, clinging to the side of an old brick next to the wall behind the dryer. I moved the dryer and she stopped her fiddling. We looked at each other. Well, I imagined she looked at me. I know she knew I was there.

"Thank you for your song," I said, "but you can't keep playing in here."

I walked upstairs and returned with a plastic container that had held treasures from my trip to the Northwest. I gave a slight bow to my guest, managed to guide her into the container without damaging her delicate instruments, and carried her upstairs and out the side door Read More 

Last week I was feeling particularly discouraged. Selling intimate apparel was never my dream job! As I spoke with customers and cleaned out fitting rooms that had been left a mess, I wondered what a person with a graduate degree, an educator, and author was doing in my position. The Holiday shopping season looming ahead did littel to brighten my mood.

I guess I had forgotten the lessons learned from Brother Lawrence about "Practicing the Presence of God." Reading through some of the reflections in Liturgical Press's new monthly prayer guide, "Give Us This Day," reminded me of the call to be present to God in the ordinary events of our lives.

The October "Blessed Among Us" reflection highlighted a woman I have read, Caryll Houselander, an English laywoman mystic whose vocation was to help others become aware of Christ in our world. She was not the stereotypical mystic. She enjoyed a drinking, battled for twenty years to give up chain-smoking, and was left broken hearted by the man she loved. She never married.

Her mystical visions were of Christ in those around her. In one, she saw him suffering in a Bavarian nun, who being German, suffered discrimination during WWII in England. In another, she saw Christ in each person in a busy railway station. In some he was rejoicing, happy, in others, suffering and in pain. Her first book. This War Is the Passion,"was written in 1941 and presented the sufferings of those traumatized by WWII through the perspective of the passion of Christ.

She was an artist, a wood carver, but later in her life, writing became her primary artistic expression. Read More 

PHOTO: Christ and John the Baptist - Church of the Divine Wisdom, Istanbul
Jesus spoke to the crowds: ‘What description can I find for this generation? It is like children shouting to each other as they sit in the market place:


“We played the pipes for you,
and you wouldn’t dance;
we sang dirges,
and you wouldn’t be mourners.”
‘For John came, neither eating nor drinking, and they say, “He is possessed.” The Son of Man came, eating and drinking, and they say, “Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners.” Yet wisdom has been proved right by her actions.
Mt 11,16-19

Today’s gospel reading may resonate with many of you. You can’t win. A child wants you to do one thing, your spouse another. Your boss has a vision for your project, but the people who will be putting it into action have their own ideas. And somewhere, at the bottom of the list is what you want to be doing. So, no matter what you do, some people are going to be unhappy. What are you to do? Read More 

PHOTO: Mary van Balen
Jesus was walking along the sea of Galilee and saw two fishermen casting their nets out for a catch. He called to them and asked them to leave their nets and follow him and he would make them fishers of men.

What would make two grown men leave their nets and follow a stranger who promised to make them, of all things, fishers of men? What does that mean anyway? The only thing stranger than the invitation was the response of Simon and Andrew: Sure. We'll leave everything we know to follow someone we don't to become something we are not sure what it is. Read More 

PHOTO:Mary van Balen
Yesterday was a struggle. Perhaps, as my spiritual director suggested, this year's holiday season will be difficult. When she mentioned that a week ago, I was quick to respond: "Oh, I don't think so. I have been living on my own for close to two and a half years. Besides being legally recognized, not much has changed. I'll be fine."

She smiled, and knew better I suspect. This time last year my three daughters joined dad and me for Thanksgiving. This year, Dad is in a nursing home, and I baked a ham tonight to give him an alternative to turkey when my daughter and I have dinner with him at noon on Thursday. Later my daughter and I will visit one of my brothers and his wife. I need to be in bed early to be ready for work in at 4:45 am on Black Friday (Stay tuned for that one!).

Many times all three daughters have not been able to make it home for Thanksgiving. What is different this year is that there is no family home for them to return to, and there will not be again, at least not in the traditional understanding of "family home." Read More 

PHOTO: Mary van Balen
The wedding stirred my emotional pot causing a variety of feelings to rise to the surface. Predictably, joy came first and remained dominant; how could it not in the face of the couples’ glorious happiness and love for each other? It spilled out of their eyes and faces, out of their gently touching hands, out of their smiles, and the rest of us, most seasoned veterans of the sacrament, soaked it up.

Hope filled my heart as well as I sat with the guests in rows of white folding chairs set up in the sun. The thought that the bride and groom are a good match pulled sadness along and "What ifs” threatened to ruin the moment. With practice I am becoming more adept dismissing those spoilers, and that is what I did.  Read More