There’s a scene in the movie Ocean’s Eleven, when after being released from prison, Danny Ocean (portrayed by George Clooney) tracks down his ex-wife, Tess (portrayed by Julia Roberts). Although Danny is still in love with Tess, she no longer has any feelings for him and is romantically involved with Terry Bennedict, a wealthy, ruthless owner of three casinos in Las Vegas.
Last week, while I was meeting with a client, she started talking about a new crisis in her life that was causing her distress. (For the purpose of this article, I’m going to call my client “Julie.”) At any other time in her life, Julie would have easily been able to handle the type of crisis she was going through, but this time she was in severe distress.
In a recent Adoration Letter article titled “Too Tired To Care,” I wrote about the importance of making an effort to always keep your mind young, fresh, enthusiastic, and hopeful. In the article, I mentioned a reporter who had followed Mother Teresa around for several days and was completely exhausted by the end of each day. The reporter noticed that Mother Teresa, who was more than twice the age of the reporter, appeared to be as fresh and energetic as she was when she started each day.
The year was 1993. One of my cousins had recently gotten engaged and her dad told her and her fianc? that he had a proposal for them. He was willing to pay them $20,000 if they were willing to agree to have a small wedding that only included immediate family members. The offer came after the wedding invitation list had grown to more than 400 people. While the groom was interested in accepting the money, the bride put her foot down and insisted that they follow through with the traditional wedding they were planning.
About five years ago, I was attending a weekday Mass at a local church. Halfway through the Mass, two women in their sixties snuck in the side door of the church and ran over to the nearest pew. Both women were wearing gray sweatshirts. The way they scurried over to the pew reminded me of the animated mice you would see in a Disney movie — because the women were short, pudgy, cute, and grinning from ear to ear.
About 10 years ago, an adorer called our home to let us know that he and his wife were not going to be able to cover their holy hour. (For the purpose of this article, I’m going to call him Frank.) At the time of the call, Frank and his wife were in their late 70s. Since no one was home to answer the telephone, Frank left a message on our answering machine.
One of my greatest challenges is controlling the way that I talk to myself. Whether we realize it or not, most of the talking we do is to ourselves. We’re experts at getting ourselves worked up over a situation, generating self-righteous indignation toward others, and convincing ourselves that we’re right and others are wrong.