Saying "I Love You"

Saying “I Love You”

How many times have you said “I love you” to someone. I have said it to my wife. I have said it to my dad before he died. I have said it to my mom before she died. One of the first times I  said it was to my grandfather on my mother's side and that is what this post is about.  

The list of people I have loved as friends and family is long while the list of those who I have actually said it to is short. Is it important to verbalize it to someone? If you place it in the salutation of a letter shouldn’t the person know how you feel? If you show it in the form of a gift shouldn’t that be a clear sign how you feel? If you show it in a favor you do for them shouldn’t it be clear? If you put it in the form of the only love poem you have ever written to a woman, your wife, shouldn’t it be clear? Maybe not, there is a very thin line between love and friendship. Actually saying “I love you” makes it clear which side of the line you are on. 

My grandfather on my dad’s side died when I was only nine. I loved him but I only saw him occasionally. My grandfather on my mom’s side died when I was twelve.  I had seen him often and he had made a deep impression on me. He would take my brother and me on walks when we were young. My grandfather would give us wonderful presents at Christmas. He would lovingly call me “muscles”.  Since I was thin as a rail I didn’t fully understand this. I didn’t have muscles and probably never would. It wasn’t important to me since I always sensed he meant it as a compliment. He said it as if he could see something great in me that nobody else could. I would always wait anxiously to see my grandfather again. 

My grandfather was a strong, powerful man but he did have some health problems. He had some kind of problem in his leg and foot, eventually developing gangrene. The doctors were not sure what had caused it or how to cure it. They finally had to amputated the leg. He was given an artificial leg and was having a hard time using it. 

I remember shortly after this my family, my grandfather and my grandmother went on a picnic. It think it was a church picnic. My grandfather was having a terrible time walking.  Finally he got mad and went back to our car. Everyone was upset.  My grandmother had a heart as big as anyone I have ever known. She knew just what to do.  She told me to go to the car and tell him that I loved him. I did love him but I had never seen anyone in my immediate family say this. Eventually my grandmother and mom talked me into doing it. 

I walked to the car and up to my grandfather and looked him in the eye and said “Grandpa I love you”. He grabbed me and gave me a big bear hug, breaking into tears.  I watched as his tears carried away his pain. I watched as a strength I had never seen before filled him. He eventually learned to walk with his new leg. He even learned to drive a car. 

What did I learn from this? I learned that “I love you” can have the power to heal the deepest wounds. I learned that taking a chance to open yourself to someone can be worth the risk. I learned that if I can’t love those near me how can I love a God who is reflected by each of them. By the way, I did find out what my grandfather saw in me.  I did have muscles - they were in my heart, that was what he meant. 

  I love you grandpa!

Copyright 2018 Daniel Strizak

Wrong Statue!

Jesus, Mary and Joseph

St. Dominic's

Mobile, Al

Wrong Statue!

A statue is a work of art. What is art? Art is an attempt to create a scene from real life and depict it's meaning in a visual form. A statue is an attempt to do this as a three dimensional art form. A statue attempts to show what the artist is seeing, reflecting an image from the camera of his mind. To me a religious statue is also a work of art, reflecting a frozen prayer from the artists heart. I seriously doubt that an artist's intention was to create an idol to be worshiped. His intention was to share his prayer, similar to a writer sharing his prayers in a devotional book. I don't see the difference. 

I find it easier to understand an artists prayer as a statue rather than in a book. A lack of imagination on my part? I have often used statues to pray to the Lord. I have never actually worshiped the statue itself. When I was young I was fortunate enough to see Michelangelo's "Pieta " at the New York World's Fair. This was one of the few times it left Rome. This was a statue of Mary holding her dead son Jesus in her lap. This is a classic, timeless work of art. It was so real that if not for its pure whiteness, I would have expected to see Mary start to move. Michelangelo has taken us to the last moment between Mary and Jesus before he was placed into the tomb. You feel like you are an interloper actually standing there watching. That is quite a prayer!

While you can pray anywhere, a church is a good place to pray. It is a structure built by human hands dedicated to God. Catholic churches often have statues inside to help place our focus on God and his gifts of faith. Once I was having some problems with my family and I had decided to visit a church and pray.

I lived in Mobile, Al and I decided to go to a local church that had a life size replica of the "Pieta". I got there and the church was locked. I was upset and decided to go to my own church where there was a statue of Mary in our small chapel. I got there and the floor was being replaced and the chapel was closed. I was again wounded but I  went into the main part of the church to pray near the statue of Jesus, Mary and Joseph. As I prayed a strange feeling came over me. I looked up at the statue and saw the Holy Family. I suddenly realized that this was not only the right place to pray and it was also the right answer to my prayer. God had guided me to the place where he wanted me to pray. What better example could I have of the perfect family than Jesus, Mary and Joseph. It helped me see my family through the lens of Jesus’s family. I suddenly knew what I needed to do. I knew what a true family was. I also knew that I would always be part of God's own family. I would always be part of His church.

Copyright 2017 Daniel Strizak

Goodbye, Goodbye Arizona

My wife and I live in Mobile, Alabama while my immediate family live in the Phoenix, Arizona area. My wife and I visited them many times yet my family only visited us on a few occasions. We would visit them only every few years because of the long distance involved. My mom and dad are now passed away but I can still remember the last time I visited them.

My sister had called and told us my mom was dying. We arranged a trip by car to Arizona to see her. She recovered before we started our trip but we still decided to visit anyway. Mom had been on the verge of death and the doctors had considered her recovery a miracle. My mom had a stroke many years earlier and could not talk well. The lord put it on my heart to talk to her. I held a certain amount of bitterness inside for things concerning both my parents. I spent a lot of our travel time thinking about what to say to my mom. I was getting nowhere and I kept hearing God say don't worry I'll help when it is time.

When I got there I saw my mom in the hospital and she more or less seemed her old self. The next day when I visited I decided to talk to her. I was about to talk when all of a sudden a memory from years ago popped into my mind out of nowhere. It was a memory of my uncle funeral in Chicago. I had driven my mom and dad to my uncle's funeral. Afterwords my mom wanted to visit her parent's grave that was in the same graveyard. It took us a while but finally my dad found it. My mom no longer attended mass regularly and I was shocked when she knelt down and placed her hand on her daddy's grave. I heard her say two words that were clear despite her stroke. "Thank you" This blew me away. I knew at once what was happening. My mom probably had never said this to her dad while he was alive but she had wanted to. I knew now what I needed to say. God was giving me a chance to say the same thing to her while she was still alive. I looked my mom in the face and told her about this. I told her very clearly "Thank you" As I said this all the bitterness evaporated from my mind and I felt my heart lightened and at peace. I could only remember good things. Since my mom couldn't speak well I did not receive a response but I knew she heard me and would hold this in her heart.

Right before we headed back to Alabama my wife and I drove my dad back to his apartment from the hospital. When we got there I felt God telling me "OK, now your dad" My dad and I were on different pages. If he said something was white, I would say it was black. We argued a lot and he always seemed closer to my siblings than my self. I felt I could never do anything good enough for him. I told him we needed to talk so we went into his room. When we got there I knew what to say. I looked at him and I told him "Thank you" He grabbed me and put his arms around me and told me he loved me.

For the first time I felt perfect acceptance and love and was closer than I had ever been to my father. Of yes, and to my earthly father too. It was the last time I saw my mom or dad alive. The last time I saw them we were at peace. What a wonderful gift my heavenly father gave me.

Copyright 2016 Daniel Strizak

My Grandmothers Hidden Gift

This is a true story about a hidden gift that my grandmother on my mother's side left for me. I didn't know about it until many years after her death. It was a special gift, an inheritance, more precious than the finest gold, yet she probably never meant it to see the light of day.

I have received several inheritances before from people I loved. I am not rich but comfortable, never expecting any money from anyone. In most cases I received these gifts well before my loved ones died. They were special gifts.

From my mom and dad I received my Catholic faith which anchored my love for God and peace of heart. From my grandmother on my dads side I saw a deep appreciation she had for Jesus, the Holy Spirit holding and rocking me at night when I stayed at her apartment. My great aunt on my mother's side opened my eyes to see and help those nearby me who were weaker than myself. My great uncle left me the analytical problem solving skills that I have used over the years to make my living. My mother-in-law and father-in-law always welcomed me and showed their love openly. My father-in-law was also a close friend who always shared his wisdom. These are just a few that come to mind.

My grandmother on my mother's side showed my siblings and I a special tender love. She was the first one to stand behind me when I was young and first setting out on my own. Years after she died my father found a prayer hidden inside a holy statue she had left behind. It was a prayer written to Mary and Jesus. I will show this prayer but first I must explain a few things about Catholic beliefs.

Mary is a prayer partner who is a powerful intercessor and is always close to her son. (see my post on Mary, Who and Why - July 6, 2016). My grandmother's prayer was to Mary as intercessor and Jesus as God and savior.

Holy statues are not idols that we pray to anymore than we would pray to a pictures of our family. Holy statues are reminders of holy people, places or events, representing a sculpture's three dimensional prayer frozen in time. When I was young my family visited the New York worlds fair and we saw "The Pieta" by Michelangelo. I was not into art then but when I saw it I was blown away.  It was as if Mary was holding her dead son in front of me and suddenly someone had frozen them in time. This prayer is still etched in my mind.

The first question I have asked myself is why would someone place a written prayer inside a statue? Once the prayer is prayed God will receive it and remember it for all time so what is the point? Maybe she left this so she could join her prayer with the sculpture's prayer. Then every time she saw the statue she would remember her prayer. Maybe it is a message in a bottle, scattered into the world for someone to find. A message for someone to discover when God deemed it was the right person and the right time. That person was my dad who shared this with me. Below is my grandmother's prayer:

"Dear Blessed Mother, Dear Jesus. Thank you very much. I must not grumble. Take care of my dear ones. Protect them always. Keep them all safe and well, both my families!
Thank you, dear God."

My family is full of good God loving people but they are human. My family, on both sides, has ethnic and religious divisions. This prayer by my grandmother asks God to breach all those divisions with his love. She did this out of pure love and this prayer now stands as a blessing for every single person in my family and in my wife's. Every time I see a breach healed I know I am seeing this prayer come to life, just like I saw the Pieta come to life. I stand and remain blessed by my grandmother's prayer.

Now you may ask what is the gift that I will leave? I too will leave a hidden gift, a message in a bottle. I will leave my words, my posts, my written pictures of God I have seen with my earthly dim vision of him. May these posts bless my family on both sides. May they bless anyone who finds them. May they bless me but once, but everyone else to their last generation.

May God bless all of you!

Copyright 2016 Daniel Strizak

God, My Blind Brother, My Blind Dog and Me

This is a story about some recent events in my life and some lessons that God taught me. It is a story of how God used a series of events to touch several people in different ways.

The first part of the story involves one of my two younger brothers. In the last year and a half I have lost my sister, my dad and my mom. I am left with two brothers and a sister. The older of my two younger brothers lives with my sister in Arizona. I am not on good terms with my brothers and sister due to certain past events but that does not matter for this story. Despite our non communication my wife and I pray for both sides of our family each day. We have done this for a long time. 

My brother and I have argued with each other for years and have never been close. Assured by many self proclaimed prophets about the rapture, he spent 15 or 20 years waiting for Jesus to carry him off. Since this has not happened he has become bitter towards God. Years ago he built his own house, sold it and finally moved in with my sister. Recently he started to grow weak and lose weight. He eventually became blind. He was not a believer in doctors so I was sure he would die. I continued to pray for him daily.

My wife and I have no children, only a niece and nephew, and two small dogs. Dogs are a blessing from God. He sometimes sends his love for us through them. They are always happy to see you, forgetting when you have been mad at them, being full of life, each having their own personality. Holly, the older dog, just turned 15. Early this year she lost bladder control and we took her to the veterinarian and he found she had diabetes. We spent several months trying to control her diet, sugar level and weight. I used all my scientific skills to get her in control but I was not quick enough to save her eye sight. My wife mentioned what a coincidence it was that both my dog and my brother were blind and both had diabetes. I don't believe in coincidences. I prayed and God asked me if he could restore the sight of only one, which would I choice: my brother or my dog. I immediately told him my brother. Then there was silence.

The next week I got an Easter card from my cousin in Arizona. My wife said I should call her so I did. At the end of the call she asked me if I had heard that my brother was taking diabetes medicine and had an eye operation. His health and vision were restored. I told her that this would be a good Easter.

The next Sunday I went to church and while praying the Lord told me to that I should go receive communion, receiving with both the bread and wine. He would "Count it as good for my brother". (Catholics believe that the bread and wine are transformed into the body and blood of our Lord.) I told my wife and she joined me. On my way to communion I told God that my brother did not believe in Jesus in the bread and wine, reminding him that you can only receive this for yourself. He laughed, saying as God he would find a way to touch my brother. He also told me to write my brother and tell him everything.

The next week we took the dog to the eye specialist. He said that he would try some medicines but he thought that her eyes would need to be removed to prevent pain and problems. I wrote the letter telling my brother about the dog and all that had happened. My brother had visited us once and Holly had really taken to him. I told him to pray for my Holly. I said God would listen to him since he knew what she had gone through. How clever of me! God would answer his prayer so that my brother would start talking to God again.

We visited the eye doctor again and he told us that we would need to remove Holly's eyes. I sent a text to my sister and told her to tell my brother to pray for Holly's eye operation to be a success. She answered back saying both of them would pray.

The next Sunday at church my wife and I both prayed that Holly would survive her operation. We both were upset that she had lost her sight but just wanted her to live. As I prayed, God told me that we should not fear for what may or may not happen but rejoice for what had been give to us. He told me to look at his son Jesus on the Cross. I had only lost my dog's eyesight, now I must surely know how hard it was when he lost his son on the cross. For the first time I saw with my heart what the crucifixion of Jesus really cost. God told me and my wife to receive communion.  He would "Count it for us as Good".

Holly's operation went well and I thanked my brother and sister for their prayers. I thanked God too. He looked at me and with a deep laugh told me that he knew how I tried to trick him into answering my brother's prayer. He said that the joke was on me because he not only got my brother to talk to him but he got my sister to talk to him too. He also said I got my prayer answered. Holly would have her eyes back. He then said that my wife and I would be her eyes.

Holly is a happy dog again. Despite her age, her diabetes and her weak trachea she survived with no pain, recovering amazingly quickly.

Every day I say prayers to God like this:
"I love you Almighty Father" (7 times)
"I love you Jesus" (7 times)
"I love you Holy Spirit" (7 times)

Last week after communion on my way back to my seat I heard God whisper to me:
"I love you Dan" (7 times)
I just laughed to myself with a big belly laugh.

Copyright 2016 Daniel Strizak

My Sister, Our Last Dance

This is my first blog. It is about an event in my life that happened in July 2014.  It is bittersweet. I include this first since God’s face was seen clearly to me several times during these events.  It is bitter when I see the temporary nature of the people, places and things that pass out of my reach in this world within the space of a single breath.  It is sweet when I see the hand of God in the small things near me, knowing all is well in his kingdom.

My sister Carol was a former ballerina and she passed away at the age of 58. We had not been very close over the years yet during her last  year we grew very close. Despite the fact that Carol lived in Arizona and I lived in Alabama, we formed a special bond at the end of her life.  I am writing about that bond since it extended strangely beyond some normal means of communication and involved a third party, God.

I  was born the oldest in a family with two younger brothers and two younger sisters.  Both of my sisters had been ballerinas. Since I had always been fascinated by science and math my sisters and myself never had very much in common. Over the years my sisters and I grew further and further apart.  Carol and I were the only one of my siblings married (except for a brief stint by my youngest brother) and God did not bless any of us with children. My sister and her husband always made me nervous since they traveled in some very dark corners. There is no need to go into the details.  Several years ago my brother-in-law died of a lung disease and left my sister penniless. My brother-in-law was probably a bad influence on my sister yet she loved him very much.  My family was glad to see him go and while I felt a certain relief I also felt my sister’s pain. I remember a kindness he once did for me near the end of his life and I prefer to remember him in this light.

After Carol lost her husband she was suddenly left alone with a large part of her life missing. Because of this she carried a heavy weight, pressing on her heart and soul. I remember this same emptiness before I found God, before I was given a wife to share my joys and sorrows. My wife and I both understood what Carol was going through.  Carol was also left with the further burden of our siblings judgement of her lifestyle, a judgement she could not escape. Carol was very near emotional and physical bottom and wanted to change. She had fought hard and abandon many of her old habits at a great cost to her health. One of her last battles, an unexpectedly tough one, that she was waging was to quit smoking. On three separate occasions she almost died from the medications the doctors gave her to help her quit.

The year before Carol died she told my wife and me that our mom was on the edge of death and we decided to visit her. Before our trip I continued to say one of my favorite prayers called the "Divine Mercy" prayer.  This prayer is a special one asking for divine mercy from God the father in his son’s name, thanking him for Jesus’ passion and death. The prayer can be summed up in a short phrase: “Jesus I trust in you”.  The prayer is said in times of  any need, but especially for anyone facing death.  It has been known to call down special graces from God displayed as a spiritual and sometimes physical effect.  Shortly after my prayers Carol called and told me that our mother had, according to the doctors, miraculously recovered.  The prayer itself is not magic, just a way of expressing our love to God and grabbing hold of him during a very hard time.  This recovery was an answer to my prayer, but also to the prayers of many others. God can answer multiple prayers at once.

We then visited my family, including Carol.  I learned that, unknown to us, we had arrived on the day before the anniversary of her husband’s death.  Both Carol,  my wife and I understood that God had arranged this meeting. I spent time telling Carol how I had found God, talking of how I saw his hand acting through so many people, places and events. I told her how he had strengthened me and I  started to teach her how to pray.

We returned home but I now started to keep in regular touch with Carol. I shared with her some prayers I knew and poems I had written about God’s power.  Then as the months slowly stretched forward I could see Carol changing, growing closer to God.  I watched and knew that there were dark forces near her, seeking to retain their power over her. I warned her of this and we all kept praying. The tide seemed to be turning against her. My dad suddenly developed serious health problems so Carol had to take care of both of them, taking care of their checkbook and the bills. Eventually my dad had to be placed in a care facility which she helped arrange.  Then her health turned and the years she had abused her body took their toll. She grew weaker and weaker and many of my siblings believed she was just being lazy.  Deep within my heart a still small voice told me she was dying.

As I entered the last week of my sister’s life we slowly began our dance.  This was our last dance, a scientist and a ballet dancer, dancing together over a thousand miles apart, talking daily on the phone and by text messages.  When the phone rang I would dread more bad news, yet when it didn't I would dread not receiving any news. Her spirits would sink and I would try and lift them, yet sometimes all I could think to say to her was “Jesus I trust in you”.

Carol was checked in and out of the hospital several times during that last week. I could hear her voice grow weaker and weaker, as if the dance was coming to an end. Then there came the end of the dance.  On that last night I was awakened in the middle of the night, my heart pounding, a voice inside telling me to say the "Divine Mercy" prayer for my sister.  I  finished that prayer,  another prayer and then my phone rang. It was my other sister telling me that Carol had just died. The dance was over.

I don't believe in coincidences. God had touched my heart and had me say that prayer at the exact time just before my sister died. I know it is a common thing for people to believe that anyone who dies is in heaven. I believe that we are either moving towards God through the power of His son Jesus or turning our back on him and moving away.  Just as I can not look straight into the face of a God who created creation, I can not know my sister’s fate.  I can believe, however, that it was God that had me pray. I can believe that he did this for a reason, perhaps more for me than for her.  I believe she is with him. 

I will leave you with one last thought. The Sunday after Carol’s death my wife and I went to church, as always, and kneeling before God I was deeply moved with sorrow.  I then went and talked with the priest, asking him to pray with me. When we finished I went back to my seat with a tear in my eye. Looking at the seat in front of me, I saw a small newborn infant.  My tear of sorrow immediately turned into a tear of joy. I looked into that tiny face and I knew I had seen the reflection of the face of God. God had winked at me and showed me that he would now be dancing with my sister.

“Jesus I trust in you.”

Copyright 2016 Daniel Strizak