My Kaleidoscope Heart

Welcome to this first Monday of March 2019! For me, these first weeks of the new year seem to have slipped away. These past two months have been filled with some absolutely amazing moments, seemingly non-stop movement in almost all areas of my life.

Last week I sat in a professional development workshop for teachers, ministry leaders and volunteers in our deanery. I strategically grabbed a seat at the front right table, close enough to the coffee I could refill my cup without causing much of a distraction, and settled in.

We’ve been extremely blessed and lucky in our deanery to have some excellent speakers, and in that same tradition this year our presenter was Katie Prejean McGrady. She started the morning with a simple question: “Where is your heart? Today? Right Now? Where is your heart? ”

Honestly, I froze. Where was my heart, who had my focus and intention? Where was my heart? With Christ? With My husband? My son? My very best friend? These wonderful people sitting at the table with me? The youth with whom I spend most Sunday evenings? The priests who help so many of us, often without knowing their influence? The sweet mother who lost her amazing son last week? My sisters and brother? My husband’s sisters and brothers? My nieces and nephews? Where was my heart?

I mentioned above Katie is an excellent presenter. She knows what she’s doing, and the rest of the day included many other questions and challenges and really good resources. But it was that one question that stuck with me. It was as if for the first time, I could feel my heart burst into thousands of fractions.

I realized something a little later that morning. Nowhere in those notes did I mention myself.

From the aspect of humility, that’s not necessarily a bad thing. But, from the aspect of health and productivity, that has to change. My heart is good and carries immense care and love, but it also requires the same.

Most Mondays I try to spend a little extra time looking at and for beautiful moments in the world. This morning was no exception. Moving through the house this morning I caught sight of this little kaleidoscope someone gave me years ago. It normally rests on the piano, and sometimes I forget it’s there.

Today I carried it with me to the back porch, lifted it to the light, looked through it, and felt a little peace with the question of the week. Watching the patterns change I pondered how something designed to be shattered and beautiful at the same time can provide direction. Those beautiful broken colored bits of glass stay stationary in their wooden case until moved and turned. We don’t get to see those brilliant patterns until we look through the glass towards the light. That might not describe your life, but it was the perfect reminder I needed in mine this morning.

Rays of sunlight streaming down while looking through the kaleidoscope

Where is my heart? It is on a beautiful journey. One that endures darkest nights and brilliant days. All of those things I listed last week, yep, that’s where and with whom my heart was on that day at that moment, and to some degrees still is. But there is a little shifting and realigning happening, and I believe that’s a good thing.

Here’s to those moments that make us examine and reflect where we are, where we want to be, and what may be standing in our way, even if it’s ourselves.