cover story Read how Linda baked away the blues. Sweet life By Nancy Schertzing
	profile Leaving a career in early childhood education, Terry Dumas was ordained in 1988. He was pastor of Old St. Patrick Parish in Ann Arbor from 1994 until he retired in July 2005. What do I know? By Marybeth Hicks
	profile Coping with the loss of a spouse is one of the greatest challenges of the human experience. For some widowed people, struggling to continue through life alone – without a best friend and soul mate – is too much to bear. Many fear loneliness and some fear ever loving as deeply again. Too soon for love By Bob Horning
	culture Snapshot of a new life. A gift to celebrate the birth of a baby Snapshot of a new life Michelle Sessions DiFranco
	exclusive There comes a time when everyone must learn there are things you just don’t say. For my daughter Betsy, that time came in about the sixth grade when she began to preface her comments with the words, “No offense, but ...” No offense, but tact has lost its tongue By Marybeth Hicks

Sweet life
how Linda baked away the blues
By Nancy Schertzing | Photography by Jim Luning

I am a coalminer’s granddaughter who grew up loving tradition and celebrating good food and family. I had no idea these were gifts until God folded them into a perfect plan for me.

Sweetie Pie is a business that’s really more about loving people than making money. It will be nice to make money someday, but, for now, I truly believe my girls [co-workers] and I are doing ministry work here. Our customers need to be cherished. When they come to our shop, that’s how we try to make them feel.

I know what it’s like to need that. What it’s like to wonder how you’re going to get up and face another day. I know how it feels to wonder if God has a plan, and why life has to be so hard!

A few years after my husband, John, and I were married, we both lost our jobs. We had no health insurance and, though I had a degree in elementary education, I couldn’t find a teaching job. In the midst of all this, I became pregnant with our first child. I truly believe now that God gave us Ellie to give us hope and take our minds off our troubles. But at the time, God’s plan wasn’t so clear!

Though I would have loved to have time with my newborn daughter, I needed to find a job immediately after she was born to pay the bills. I went to work in state government. Although the work was unsatisfying, I loved the people I met. I also was able to hone my baking skills at the office in weekly bake-offs, where my treats were always favorites.

John and I saved for a farmhouse and had another beautiful daughter, Betsie. As a family, we worked on renovating the farm and canning foods from its gardens and berry patches. A few years later, I was diagnosed with early-stage melanoma. My doctors treated it with surgery and preserved my physical health. But my mental health began to suffer.

My melanoma ushered in a depression that grew stronger because my job now included very limited contact with people. When I lost the opportunity to interact with others, I sank into a depression I couldn’t escape.

Depression is worse than anything I’ve ever experienced. I couldn’t take part in the joy of life. I came to think of it as the devil leaning over my shoulder all the time, telling me I was worthless. At the lowest point, I felt I had nothing worthy to give others. I even felt unworthy of God’s love.

We needed my income, but my depression deepened every day in my government job. I quit that to run a state association, hoping the change would help. Antidepressant drugs, therapy and spiritual reading did nothing to lift the darkness. My only solace came from cooking and baking for my family and friends.

Most days I would just have to say, “OK, you win today, devil, but you’re not going to win tomorrow.”

Through it all, I held on to a reading that touched me while I was battling melanoma. It said, “Faith is truly knowing that all parts of your life, good and bad, are part of God’s perfect plan for us.” I couldn’t see the perfection of God’s plan, but I held on to the belief that one day it would become clear.

At one low point in despair, I picked up this reading again, and a rush of warmth washed over me. Suddenly, I saw that all the bad parts of my life had led me to the better parts. For the first time I understood that all of my experiences were part of God’s perfect plan for me. I knew without a doubt that God loved me.

My new job included travel. During one trip, I had a six-hour layover. While waiting, I talked with a number of travelers and really loved my time with each one. After a few hours, a woman sat down next to me. She looked at me and said, “I’ve never done this before, but for some reason I have to tell you. You have a gift. I’ve been sitting, listening to you talk to those people. You have a gift for loving people.”
I call that my second epiphany, because it opened my eyes to the fact I had a gift for something. My whole life I had never believed there was anything special about me or my abilities. Now I began to see I did have a gift – a gift for loving people. The question now was, “What could I do with it?”

Sitting in church one Sunday, I remember Father Dwight talking about how God calls everyone differently. As I thought about his words and my question of what to do with my gift, I had my third epiphany. The message came clearly into my mind as if someone had spoken it directly to my heart: “You need to love people.” From that moment, I knew I had to use the gifts I had unknowingly been mastering for years. I would love people through a café-bakery where I could make wonderful food and honor the traditions passed down to me.

It was like connecting the dots. While honeymooning on Cape Cod, John and I had visited a little shop called Pie In the Sky. After that, I always dreamed I’d have my own pie shop some day. For years, I had gathered garage-sale things or cast-offs for the shop and stored them in our barn. I had been baking pies part-time to sell at my farmers’ market stand and had developed a good following. The perfect building was available for rent downtown. Even my depression helped because it gave me insomnia! I worked deep into the night writing out memories and recipes from my baking mentors for use in my shop. God was opening the way; I just had to believe in my gifts and make my dream happen.

Initially, my husband was afraid of the risk. But I told him, “You just have to believe in me because I truly, truly know this is right. I know this has to be.” Eventually he understood, and he and our family and friends went to work renovating the shop and bringing together all my collections from the barn. A little over a year ago, we opened our doors.

So many hours and so much to do, but I never get tired. I’m off the antidepressants and the depression devil is gone now. We’re meeting our bills every month and our family and customers feel happy and loved.

Everyone has a gift! I couldn’t see mine. But through all these life experiences I realize God made my perfect life plan to help him love others. Truly, I think God gives us all gifts to love each other the best we can in all our different ways. Sweetie Pie’s mission of celebrating love, tradition and people through great food is my way of using God’s gifts to me.

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If you are suffering from depression and do not know where to turn, you can call your local Catholic Charities agencies for help or a referral. In the Diocese of Lansing, they are:

• Adrian: Catholic Charities of Lenawee, 517.263.2191
• Ann Arbor: Catholic Social Services of Washtenaw County, 734.971.9781
• Brighton/Howell: Catholic Social Services of Livingston County, 517.545.5944
• Flint: Catholic Outreach, 810.234.4693
• Flint: Catholic Charities of Genesee/Shiawasee Counties, 810.232.9950 and 989.727.8239
• Jackson: Catholic Charities of Jackson, 517.782.2551
• Lansing: St. Vincent Catholic Charities, 517.323.4734 Ext. 1202
• Lansing: Cristo Rey Community Center, 517.372.4700

What do I know?
Father Terry Dumas second vocation
By Bob Horning | Photography by Tom Gennara

Leaving a career in early childhood education, Terry Dumas was ordained in 1988. He was pastor of Old St. Patrick Parish in Ann Arbor from 1994 until he retired in July 2005.

When I flunked Latin as a high-school sophomore in seminary, I figured that the priesthood wasn’t for me, and I didn’t think about it again. However, I always had an inclination to service, which may be why I eventually became a teacher. It was a huge surprise, after my divorce and annulment years later, that God was calling me.

I met my wife while we were both lay missionaries on an Indian reservation in southern California. We married in 1960 and had three children. We divorced
in 1981.

Around that time was when I experienced my biggest joy in life. I had always viewed God as someone who was judging me, taking account of my actions and getting ready to punish me. Part of that view resulted from my having become someone I didn’t like – a divorced man and an alcoholic.

But God reached down to me where I was. Two things happened. I made a decision to face my alcoholism and to live with rigorous honesty. Entailed in that was rediscovering my spirituality through a self-help group. And that meant working on seeing God as loving and forgiving.

Secondly, the woman I was dating told me one day that she loved me. That was a problem, because I couldn’t say it back to her. As I was driving home, I had a sense that God loved me the same way. Even if I couldn’t say it back to him, he said to me, “That’s too bad. I love you anyway.” That has been the foundation of my relationship with him ever since, rather than the false image I had of him as someone to fear because he would hurt me.

That’s why friends are important to me; they are the body of Christ for me. They reveal that God loves me anyway, despite everything I have done. Of course, that reminds me that I need to do the same for them. It is reciprocal. People readily respond to being loved. My friends helped me overcome my greatest adversary, alcohol, as I turned my life over to the care of God.

I had to respond to God’s love. I became more involved in the parish, such as being a lector and leading faith-sharing groups. After a while, my practical mind said that – since I get joy out of this – why not do it full-time? Seminary was the next step.

In chapel one day at seminary, I cried out to God that I was so tired of being different. He said to me, “That’s too bad. You are.” His presence became so real. I began to read Jeremiah 29:11, “For I know well the plans I have in mind for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare, not for woe! Plans to give you a future full of hope.” Before I could finish the sentence, my tears flowed, because the experience of God was so palpable. Occasionally, during my daily prayer, the same type of thing occurs.

My life has been one long series of events with God showing his love to me, caring for me. I continually remind myself that God is God, not me. He is in charge. We are always dependent upon him. The capacity to “let go and let God” derives from knowing that he loves me.

I love retirement. I am still active in ministry, but now I can choose what to get involved in. And I don’t have to be an
administrator.

Since I have come to know God’s love, nothing frightens me. Sure, I can experience suffering and sorrow, but I’ve never lost trust in him as a result. My attempt is to imitate the confidence that Jesus showed in the Father. Beneath everything is the fact that he loves me.

Maybe my biggest disappointment is the “suspicion” that the church has encountered from people as a result of the sex abuse scandal. And realizing that we haven’t been honest with ourselves or with others. Because the church is a human institution, we can embarrass ourselves. One person can affect everyone. On the other hand, we do have the sacrament of reconciliation for our sins.

Living on earth can be hell. Nevertheless, it is meant to be, in one sense, the beginning of heaven because Jesus has put the kingdom of God within us. Heaven begins here when we know the love of God and others. I’ve thought of writing a book about that. I already know the title – This is heaven. When did I die?

I am happiest when I witness God revealing his love to me or to someone else. Though I was a professional educator, I don’t know of a way to teach God’s unconditional love via rules, regulations or some model. It is manifested best when we live it or see it lived.

too soon for love?
Jim and Marilyn Rhadigan
journeyed from widowhood to marriage
By Kimberly Laux | Photography by Tom Gennara

Coping with the loss of a spouse is one of the greatest challenges of the human experience. For some widowed people, struggling to continue through life alone – without a best friend and soul mate – is too much to bear. Many fear loneliness and some fear ever loving as deeply again.

Jim Rhadigan experienced many of these feelings when he lost his wife, Winn. So did Marilyn Pence Rhadigan when she lost her husband, Jerry. But both made the decision to move beyond merely existing after their spouses’ deaths and to live the rest of their lives to the fullest. Through the intervention of special angels in heaven, they are achieving their goals – together.

Jim: Winn, my high-school sweetheart, and I were blessed with a good life. We were the proud parents of five children and lived in a comfortable house in Brighton. I was a successful businessman with General Motors, and she was what some people might call “a church lady.” She was involved in Catholic activities at the parish, diocesan and national levels. Some of the other members at our church, St. Patrick’s, referred to me simply as Winn’s husband.

During our 39 years of marriage, we planned carefully for my retirement. We built a log cabin in southwest Michigan, near my alma mater, Notre Dame, and we had ambitious plans to travel. Those dreams were cut short.

Polymiosytis, an illness Winn had been battling for 10 years, flared up and she was hospitalized. Nine days later, she passed away. The doctors offered no explanation other than her immune system just couldn’t fight the disease. Her death was a tremendous loss to the church, our family and to her close friend, Marilyn.

Marilyn: Jerry Pence, my high- school sweetheart, and I were married for 31 years. Like Jim and Winn, we also had five children. Although he claimed no religion before becoming Catholic, Jerry was the person who taught me the difference between faith and religion. I was deeply moved watching him and the other students in a Catholic inquiry class discover their faith and find ways to live it.

That experience inspired me to become active with our parish’s Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults (RCIA) process and eventually I became coordinator. Jerry became the unofficial president of the social committee; he (jokingly) was known as King Wiener for cooking the hotdogs at our annual parish picnic.

One November morning, Jerry served with me as a eucharistic minister at St. Mary Magdalen. We kissed during the sign of peace and then he left to drive our youngest daughter, Maggie, home from Mass. On the way, he suffered a heart attack. I never imagined that would be our last kiss ...

Standing at the graveside of your spouse makes you want to jump in after them. Winn and I had gotten to know each other through the church. She was the one who took care of me when I lost Jerry.

Jim: So, when Winn was sick, Marilyn visited her. She was present while Father Tom Thompson performed the sacrament of the sick and was with our family shortly after she died.

Marilyn: Since I worked as a grief counselor and had been close with Winn, I decided to check up on Jim a few weeks after she passed away. From our phone conversation, I could tell he was still having a difficult time.

Jim: To say I felt lonely was an understatement. My kids were supportive, but I couldn’t expect them to plan their lives around me.

Marilyn: We decided to meet face-to-face and talk over dinner. During our conversation, we talked about the possibility of ever dating anyone again. I told him I needed to be spiritually, emotionally, intellectually and physically compatible with a person before getting into another relationship.

Jim: That night, I fell in love with Marilyn. Our dinner lasted four hours!

Marilyn: There was a definite mutual attraction.

Jim: We started dating. Since this was only two months after Winn’s death and two years after Jerry’s heart attack, you can imagine the comments we heard from people. I think most of the negativity stemmed from the fear that we would forget our spouses.

Marilyn: And that just wasn’t possible. They were the ones who helped mold us into the people we are today. You can’t really ever separate yourself from them. It is our belief that Winn and Jerry helped orchestrate us getting together. And when they’re not busy laughing at us, they are helping us along.

Jim: After realizing we had fallen in love, we decided to talk to Father Jake Foglio about some of our concerns. Was it too soon? Was it a rebound? He suggested we take our time, but reminded us that love is not planned, it happens when our hearts feel it.

We continued dating for a year. I took a trip to Ireland and spent a lot of time in prayer. When I returned home, I went with Marilyn to Notre Dame to pick up Maggie from soccer camp. I proposed to Marilyn inside the Our Lady Chapel. She said yes.

We called the rectory of The Basilica of the Sacred Heart at Notre Dame and learned that there had been a cancellation for five months later (Dec. 4). Some people wait two years to get married there! We set up hotel reservations and found a restaurant to host the reception. Within six hours, we had pretty much planned the wedding.

Marilyn: We were blessed with a beautiful day and all but one of our children (who’d just had a baby) were present for the ceremony.

Jim: But the day wasn’t just about us. We wanted to include Winn and Jerry’s presence too.

Marilyn: On the bottom of our chalice, a gift from St. Mary Magdalen Parish, where I was a pastoral minister, read the inscription “In memory of Winn and Jerry.” We believe that when you take the Eucharist, you receive not only Jesus but also everyone with him. Through holy Communion, we still feel united with them.

Jim: Our real work began after the ceremony. We had to confront the emotions – grief, acceptance, joy and reluctance – of our 10 children. Some didn’t take long to share in our happiness; others slowly grew into it.

Marilyn: We’ve also had some scares. Jim was diagnosed with an esophageal hernia and came very close to death.

Jim: Fortunately, I’m doing better now and we’re living life to the fullest. We bought a condo in Boyne City, where we watch the beautiful sunsets over Lake Charlevoix.

Marilyn: Through our experience, we’ve learned to treasure every moment together – there’s nothing worth fighting about. It’s difficult for me to see couples at church who appear to be angry at each other. They barely make contact during the sign of peace. Little do they know that could be the last time they kiss or hold hands.

Jim: We feel truly blessed that we were given a second chance at marriage, love and happiness – and we believe our relationship serves as an example for other widowed persons. It is possible to experience more than misery. Just because you were married does not mean your heart is not open to love anymore. One door may be closed, but the rest of your heart still lives on.

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During times of grief, we all need a shoulder to lean on. In many parishes, that can be found through the BeFrienders Ministry. BeFriender ministers bring the caring presence of God and the community through a listening, compassionate presence, offering emotional and spiritual support.For more information, contact your parish office, or visit www.diocese oflansing.org.

Snapshot of a new life
a gift to celebrate the birth of a baby
Michelle Sessions DiFranco | Photography by Phillip Shippert

I experience one of those difficult parenting moments as I watch my 2-year-old daughter purposely dump a tub of hot cocoa mix all over herself and my kitchen floor. Infuriated inside, I rush over to clean up the mess before she runs off to track it all over the rest of the house. Half an hour later, after a new outfit and mopped floor, I am feeling totally inconvenienced, annoyed and overwhelmed. It is then that I take a good look at her and remind myself of the positive; of the humorous and loving things she does. I also think of what we receive as parents as we work to raise her. Most importantly, I remind myself of what a huge blessing she is – a gift from God that brings joy to our life every day – spilled cocoa mix and all.

Yet as a Catholic, being a parent is more than just cleaning up messes. It is an awesome responsibility with which God entrusts us – to lead our little ones down a path to holiness. That is a pretty huge task, since they’ll be faced with significant outside pressures to the contrary. While it’s easy to get caught up in decorating a nursery, buying cute clothes and reading bedtime stories, we need to recognize the job ahead of setting a good Christian example as moms and dads. We need to remember our primary responsibility of teaching them what they will need to one day get to heaven.

Are you expecting a baby or know of anyone else who is? Do you know of anyone struggling with the responsibility of being a parent? Or perhaps, are you aware of anyone in a crisis pregnancy? These mothers are faced with the challenge of choosing a difficult “right thing” amidst a torrent of fears, anxieties and social pressures that obscure the beauty of their unborn child. Here is a fun and simple project we can do to encourage and thank all mothers and fathers for choosing life. It is a photo holder that is designed to remind us of the blessing and responsibility each child is. When we look at that photo of a little one, let it remind us that it’s not just a snapshot of a cute baby or smiling child but a precious soul to take care of and lead back to God.

For this project, you will need:

Wooden toy blocks (can be purchased unfinished at an arts and crafts store)
Acrylic craft paint in colors of your choice
Paintbrush
Hot-glue gun and glue sticks
18-gauge craft wire
Wire-cutting pliers
Needle-nose pliers
Hammer
Puncture tool or ice pick
Wooden dowel (1⁄2 - 3⁄4 inch in diameter)
(A thick magic marker or broom handle will work also.)
Begin by painting the letters on the blocks in alternating colors of choice. Set aside to dry.

Hot-glue the blocks together, staggering them slightly to give some dimension. Set aside so glue hardens.

Using your needle-nose pliers, make a small loop at the end of the wire and wrap around the wooden dowel twice. Remove from dowel and bend the rest of the wire to create the stem of the photo holder. Repeat this to create five more stems and then trim to different lengths.

Make a hole in the top (center) of the blocks using your puncture tool (or ice pick) and hammer. Apply hot glue to the end of each wire and push into holes in the blocks. Let glue harden.

More ideas:
• Get a group of friends together to make several to donate to a crisis pregnancy center.
• Going to a baby shower? They make a great gift to go along with an outfit.
• Personalize it with the baby’s name.