Faith & Family | Susan Hines-Brigger

Susan Hines-Brigger

Susan has worked at St. Anthony Messenger for 27 years and is an executive editor. She and her husband, Mark, are the proud parents of four kids— Maddie, Alex, Riley, and Kacey. Aside from her family, her loves are Disney, traveling, and sports.

Susan welcomes your comments and suggestions!

EMAIL:

CatholicFamily@ FranciscanMedia.org

MAIL:

Faith and Family 28 W. Liberty St. Cincinnati, OH 45202

WANT MORE? VISIT: FranciscanMedia.org/ faith-and-family

Roads Less Traveled

“Where are you taking us?” This is a refrain often heard on our family vacations from both the kids in the back of the van and even sometimes me from the front seat. You see, my husband, Mark, has a unique gift for finding the quirkiest, most obscure items to be found throughout the United States. Largest frying pan—we’ve seen it. Smallest police station—check that one off too. We’ve even stayed at one of the Historic Wigwam Village motels. That was an experience we’ll never forget.

He spends hours planning our trips, as well as these side adventures. Chances are, if they happen to fall anywhere near the route of our current trip, we are going to stop and visit. It has made for some interesting experiences for sure.

A FAMILY ON THE MOVE

Traveling has always been a big part of Mark’s and my relationship. We both love to see the many things the world, outside of our hometown, has to offer. Both of us have traveled to almost all of the 50 states and a few countries—many together, some on our own.

Even before becoming parents, we said we would raise our kids to be travelers. From the time our firstborn, Maddie, was old enough to travel, we packed her up—along with the portable crib, stroller, backpack carrier, large pack of diapers, and other necessities—and hit the road. With each new kid, we just packed a little more of everything before heading out.

A WIDER VIEW

At some point, Mark and I realized that if the goal of us traveling with the kids was to give them a view of the world outside of their own everyday environment, we needed not only to expose them to the quirky roadside attractions he would find, or the more popular vacation spots, but also to provide them with a broader view of the world. We would need to expose them to the reality of what the entire country looks like, not just the fun, pretty, and comfortable parts.

With that in mind, we began to incorporate more side trips to places that would make them reflect and learn. They have touched the remnants of the Alfred P. Murrah Building at the Oklahoma City Bombing National Memorial and have paid homage to many of the sacred sites of Native Americans throughout our land. They have witnessed the beauty of God’s creation as well as the devastating aftermath of a forest fire and other natural disasters, as well as the site of the 16th Street Baptist Church bombing in Birmingham, Alabama, during the civil rights era.

These visits have led to important discussions and questions. They have prompted all of us to look inward in regard to what we witness and learn. For that reason, these sites are as important for them to see as the beach, Disney World, the Grand Canyon, Niagara Falls, and many other places we have traveled to.

OFF TO EXPLORE

As our kids are growing, they are beginning to head out on their own adventures. Our oldest has moved away. Alex, our second child, is at college across the country. Riley, our third, is making plans for college and is set on going away, just like her big brother. Kacey, our youngest, has plans for buying land somewhere—maybe close to home, maybe not.

And while it breaks my heart to not have all my kids close by, I know that Mark and I have set the footing for this, and it is a good thing. We have opened their eyes to the great big world out there waiting to be explored. I hope we have also opened their minds to the life lessons that those adventures can teach them.

FAITH and FAMILY STEPPING OUTSIDE MY COMFORT ZONE

Like my coworker Susan, travel has played a pivotal role in my life, opening my eyes to both the beauties and challenges in the world and bursting the bubble of my comfort zone. I can think of no better example of how travel can radically transform your outlook on life than my many visits to Mexico City to spend time with my wife’s family. I’ve been married to my wife, Belinda, for 11 years, and in that time, we’ve spent many joyous Christmases with her mother, twin brother (Emilio), and grandmother—who is now 100 years old and still full of spirit and energy. However, the COVID-19 pandemic disrupted our holiday traditions, as it did for so many. So when we got our vaccines and found out how to visit Mexico this past summer, we jumped at the opportunity to go.

With our negative COVID-19 test results, passports, and overpacked luggage in hand, we landed in Mexico City’s Benito Juarez Airport at 1:00 in the morning, made our way through customs, and eventually got to the passenger pickup area. Belinda’s mom had kept our visit a secret from Emilio as a kind of birthday present—their birthday was the day after our arrival. Expecting to pick up one of his uncles, Emilio was stunned when we walked out instead. I’ll never forget the tears of joy streaming down my mother-in-law’s face and the look of astonishment on Emilio’s. It’s a moment I will carry with me forever as a reminder of the power of both family and travel.

After the hugs and heartfelt greetings, we got in Emilio’s car and headed to the family home, in the northwest part of the city. It was all Spanish from that point on for me, and I could almost feel my brain making the slow transition in language. From billboards flashing by outside the car window to the radio announcer to the conversation in the car, the comfort zone of “my” language quickly dissipated. And despite my choppy, sometimes incoherent Spanish, I’m so glad to have been able to have conversations over the years with members of my wife’s family who only speak Spanish.

During this recent visit, my wife’s grandmother spoke with me about the importance of accepting God’s will, no matter how hard it might be in the moment. Indeed, at 100 years of age, she doesn’t speak from any lack of experience! And sadly, she knows all too well—and recently—about stepping aside and letting God chart the course. Her oldest son, Arturo, an intellectually curious person whom I enjoyed many illuminating conversations with, had passed away from COVID-19 this past January. Tears welled up in her wise eyes as she described how difficult it was to lose Arturo, not even being able to say goodbye.

We said a short prayer, just she and I, as Belinda and her mom were out shopping in the market that afternoon. And despite the sadness at the source of our prayer, it was a small but profound blessing to share that moment with a person who has seen so much—perhaps too much—of the fragile beauty of life and the preciousness of our time here.

Travel and the gift of an expanded family that comes with marriage have stretched and enriched my soul. In this month when a whole day is dedicated to giving thanks, I think a prayer of gratitude to God for the opportunity to explore our wonderful world is in order.

Daniel Imwalle

—Daniel Imwalle

Friar Pete & Repeat

These scenes may seem alike to you, but there are changes in the two. So look and see if you can name eight ways in which they’re not the same. (Answers below)

Deacon Art Miller

Deacon Art Miller was ordained in the Archdiocese of Hartford in 2004. He was arrested during the summer of 1963 as he sat in peaceful protest over segregation. He was 10 years old when his schoolmate Emmett Till, 14, was murdered in Mississippi for allegedly whistling at a white woman—an incident that energized the nascent civil rights movement. His book, The Journey to Chatham (AuthorHouse), details the events seen through the eyes of Till’s friends.

WANT MORE? Check out our daily online prayer resource, Pause+Pray: FranciscanMedia.org/ pausepray

Humble Grace and Gratitude

It was one of those cold autumn days. The trees were bare; winter was coming. I dug my hands into my pockets and grasped the pyx, the shiny container that contained the Eucharist. I walked toward the old building, my head down against the chill. The cracked and broken sidewalk was the welcome mat that greeted me in this part of Hartford, Connecticut.

Her name was Ms. Flowers, an elderly parishioner to whom I was asked to bring Communion. I had never met her in my years at the church where I was the deacon. I was told that she was brilliant and wise—that long ago she was a great traveler and lecturer on the arts. She had fallen on difficult times after an accident but remained as elegant and knowledgeable as ever.

I walked up the building’s concrete steps. Strewn on the front yard were remnants that reflected the area: old whiskey bottles, fast-food wrappers, and cigarette butts. I stepped into the apartment building and was met with the undeniable odor of urine and

hopelessness. I rang the bell to her apartment and was buzzed in. I climbed the stairs and knocked on the door. After a moment, I heard a quiet shuffling and a melodic voice say, “I’m coming!” As the door opened, I stood without moving. Words wanted to escape my lips, but nothing came out. It was more than a door that opened; it was what lived in that small apartment that took my breath away. I’m not saying it was like Dorothy’s bedroom Every once in a door opening to the land of while, God shows Oz. There certainly was no us how to be his dramatic change from blackchild. Ms. Flowers and-white to Technicolor, but was one of them. there was a sense of something inside that apartment that was far more beautiful than what was outside those walls. It was the presence of holiness that startled me. Ms. Flowers looked up at me with this knowing smile that reassured me. She ushered me in. Had she not, I’d likely still be standing there with my mouth agape. She had set up a little table with teacups. The sunrays through the window kissed her teapot and the

cups that sat on cloth doilies. I pulled the pyx out of my pocket and laid it on the table with the tea. She quietly uttered, “Amen.”

I listened as she showed me pictures of her travels. She spoke of how blessed she had been—how God had given her many years, many adventures, and many difficulties to overcome. She faced those difficulties and found that, through faith, she had become stronger because of them.

CHILDREN OF GOD

Ms. Flowers had lost all that she had: her nice home, her money, her expensive clothing, her exorbitant vacations, and her grand adventures. She spoke of love lost and promises broken. But there was no pain in her voice or regret in her eyes. It was as if she were reading a story of someone else’s life. She had separated from that part of herself. That part of her life was gone; it was painful but necessary.

Sometime after I had heard Ms. Flowers’ stories, I began the prayers for the reception of the Sacrament of the Eucharist. When I presented the Eucharist to her, she looked at the holiness of it, smiled, and whispered, “Amen, my Lord, amen.”

Ms. Flowers offered me crackers and tea she had prepared. She thanked God for providing us a delicious meal. And we ate.

I cannot explain how the crackers tasted. I cannot describe how the sweetness of the hot tea caressed my mouth. I kept saying to myself over and over, “It’s just crackers and tea. It’s just crackers and tea.”

However, in this place, with this woman of God, everything was more than I saw, more than I felt, more than I perceived. Everything was greater than it was.

In time, I left the apartment. The following Sunday, Father McDonald informed me that Ms. Flowers had passed away the day after I had visited her. I was deeply saddened. He asked me if my visit with her affected me. I said it had, profoundly.

It felt as if I had been in the presence of an angel. He told me that, every once in a while, God shows us how to be his child. Ms. Flowers was one of them.

A PRAYER FOR GRACE

Give grace, O Lord, that in moments of anxiety, I reflect your love and not my anger.

Give grace that I might reflect your generosity in my moments of selfishness.

Give grace that I might speak love into the face of hatred. Give grace, O Lord, give grace.

Amen.

PRAYERFUL TIPS QUESTIONS TO PONDER

TOP: GMVOZD/ISTOCK; LOWER RIGHT: GREMLIN/ISTOCK

• Have you ever encountered holiness in an unexpected place? If you have, how did it change you?

• Does this feeling of unexpectedness reflect upon your concepts of how and where God works and dares to take up residence?

• In what ways can you contemplate God’s universality?

If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.

—J.R.R. Tolkien

Brother Rohr may just take you to places you’ve both avoided and longed for, to truth, union, joy, laughter, and, greatest of all, to your own precious self, here on earth with us, child of God. —Anne Lamott, from the foreword

Break negative patterns and patterns and experience experience greater internal freedom.

www.Shop.FranciscanMedia.org