Realizing God Loves and Accepts Me by Tom Powers

Hello and good morning/afternoon.  I’m Tom Powers.  I am an usher at the 11:00 mass on Sunday mornings.  Last week Pam Lynch approached me and asked that I give a talk at each mass this weekend sharing my story of when I realized that God loved and accepted me.  I had misgivings.  First, I don’t typically talk about my faith much less share it with the whole congregation.  I think Pam could see that I was hesitant and so she let me know that I could say no if I wasn’t comfortable.  Then she said, “it’s just that Fr. Ryan told me to ask you”. It felt a little like when I was a kid and my mother would “ask” me to help wash the dishes. No, was not on the list of responses.   

Next, I was struck by what I was being asked to share.  I was to share with you my story of when I realized that God loved and accepted me.  Here’s the thing, I didn’t have a great epiphany.  I didn’t have a life changing event that opened my eyes to the realization that God accepts and loves me.  For as long as I can remember, I was sure God accepted me and loved me.  

I have a wonderful family.   Great friends.  Grew up in what I think of as a magical neighborhood.  I had terrific caring teachers both nuns and lay teachers.  The priests in St. Bridget of Kildare parish were straight out of a movie you could watch on a Saturday afternoon played by Bing Crosby or Pat O’Brien.  

While I am sure that I learned about God’s love in school and no doubt, it was part of scripture and homilies at Mass.  I just have no clear specific memory of that.  What I remember, very clearly, were the many simple acts of kindness, concern, care, and love that I experienced daily from the special people in my life.  Because of them - I knew God loved and accepted me.  Besides the love my parents showed me every day. I remember things like: 

My great uncle Gene (my father’s uncle) coming to our house to drop off a bike that he had picked up at a garage sale or found sitting in the trash on someone’s tree lawn and cleaned up and repaired to give to me when I learned to ride a bike.  I remember:

My aunt Claire taking my brothers, sisters and me to a local children’s clothing store called Irwin’s to buy us clothes at the start of the school year.  With seven kids, my parents wouldn’t have been able to that.  I remember:

My mother sending me to buy milk at Lawsons grocery store a few blocks from our home.  The owner, Bob Cornell, would add day-old bread or bananas that had just started to turn brown to the bag….. he knew we could use the help.  

These and a thousand other simple acts of kindness, care, concern, and love from the special people in my life.  

So, I have been blessed.  It is not lost on me that most people are not as blessed as I have been.  I also understand that as a Catholic who has been so fortunate, I have an obligation and a responsibility, to as Pope Paul VI expressed so concisely, “rescue and not sit in judgment, to serve and not to be served”.  So, what can I do to serve and to make others feel loved and accepted?

For me, a big part of the answer came from the example that had been set.  Better than any lesson, speech or sermon; the people who loved me taught me through their example the importance of simple, genuine acts of kindness, care, concern and love.  This is the tenet that guides me and that I strive to incorporate into what I do to fulfill my obligation to serve those who are struggling or have not been as blessed as I have been.

I came across a poem when I was much younger that resonated with me.  I read it often to remind myself what I have learned.  I would like to share a portion with you:

It isn’t the thing you do, dear;

It’s the thing you leave undone, 

Which gives you a bit of heartache 

At the setting of the sun.

The tender word forgotten, 

The letter you did not write,

The flower you might have sent, dear,

Are you haunting ghosts tonight.

The stone you might have lifted

Out of a brother’s way,

The bit of heartsome counsel 

You were hurried too much to say;

The loving touch of the hand, dear,

The gentle and winsome tone, 

That you had no time nor thought for, 

With troubles enough of your own.

The little acts of kindness,

So easily out of mind;

Those chances to be angels

Which everyone may find

You’ve never met my mom.  If you did you would remember.  Because, whoever you are – a child waiting at the school bus stop that she would see on her morning walk ….. A fellow parishioner that she would see heading into Mass….. someone she bumps into in a shop or restaurant  …. If you met my mom, she would make you feel certain that the best thing that happened to her that day was, seeing you!  When she said, hello, she would look you in the eye, take your hand or place her hand on your forearm and hit you with her warm smile, and you would know that you are special, you are loved and accepted.

My wife, Elaine, recently began volunteering at Good Shepherd Hospital.  I was proud of her – of course.  I was also happy for the people she would encounter there.  Because when we are afraid, sick, in pain, grieving, and struggling; I believe that while her beautiful smile won’t fix what is wrong, it may bring a little light, a little warmth to someone on what is not their best day.  

Why am I certain that God loves and accepts me – loves and accepts us?  Because I experience it daily in the actions of good people who have opened their eyes and their hearts to “those chances to be angels”.   

Poem: The Sin of Omission by Margaret E. Sangster