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Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Entre le Boeuf et L'ane Gris (Between the Ox and the Grey Donkey)




Many years ago I offered to step in and help out my son's school by filling in for the third grade teacher who quit in the beginning of October with no notice.  The school was in a bind and was thinking of hiring daily subs for the remainder of the year.  I was at home not doing too much.  I had quit teaching middle school the year prior to hopefully become pregnant again, but that plan failed.  I could feel God tugging on my heart strings for these little third graders.  I did have some hesitation in offering to teach them - they were known to be an extremely difficult class.  There were twenty boys and five girls.  The boys weren't easy boys either.  No teacher up to that point had been able to control them.  When I was a middle school teacher I used to watch that class as they were coming up and think, "Whew, I hope I'm not teaching anymore by the time they're in middle school."  Funny how man plans and God laughs!

I delved into my new job just before Halloween thinking, "Honestly, how hard can they be? I am a middle school teacher, afterall!"  I can tell you they handed me my head on a silver platter every day for the first month and a half.  They were so out of control and had been allowed to be so for such a long time, that I used to spend class time just having them practice lining up at the door, sitting back down, getting books, sitting still, sitting silently, etc.  The first two weeks with them, I jumped up on the saddle, but lost the reigns and the horse dragged me with my feet still in the stirrups.  The next couple of weeks, I slowly climbed up on the saddle, grabbed the reigns, the horse took off, and I held on for dear life, not controlling the horse whatsoever.  The few weeks after that, I felt a turning point.  I stayed on the horse, I held on to those reigns, and I actually commanded that horse more times than not.

The turning point with that class was about three weeks before Christmas when the school was practicing for a multicultural fair and our country would be France.  We had to represent France at Christmastime.  I decided I would teach these very busy and loud  children a very quiet Christmas carol and have them sing it in French!  THAT was the undertaking of the century!  I found a traditional French carol that was very beautiful and slow, so it fit the bill perfectly.  Of course those children bucked at the beginning, but they began to like it and before you knew it, all twenty of those boys and all five of those girls were singing that French carol like angels.  We practiced and practiced and practiced.  I had something to prove.  These children were innocent children being deprived of a quality education because adults in their lives had washed their hands and given up...twenty boys, afterall.  I would prove to our school that these children were able to be molded and shaped - they were pliable and able to change.  They would see something in themselves they never even knew existed.  They might see a potential they had never seen before.  Perhaps their parents and former teachers would see them as they had never been seen before.  They would shine anew this Christmas if I had anything to do with it.

I will never forget the looks on the faces of the teachers and administrators of the school when these students began to perform this song.  It was quiet, calm, and angelic.  My students sang slowly, calmly, and with control.  It was definitely a turning point in the year.  I had gained control of those reigns and I would not let them go until June.  From January to June, a lot of learning occurred.  Manners were learned.  Self control was practiced.  They learned empathy for each other.  They began to detest other classes who were unruly (which made me giggle uncontrollably when they weren't around).  They would say, "Mrs. Orces, can you make that class be quieter?  They are disturbing us.  We can't do our work!"

This Christmas, for some reason, I have been thinking of this moment in time.  It was a beautiful rewarding moment in my life.  I saw the power of determination, hard work, good example, and prayer.  Even those whom others had deemed "gone" were not gone, but became new again.  These children allowed themselves to shed the ugliness and wear a new shiny suit of beauty.  It was beauty that emanated from the inside out.

I can't help but think about how I could change this Christmas while waiting the birth of the Messiah.  Am I waiting for my king to come?  Am I ready?  Have I readied my heart?  Am I wearing my new shiny suit?  What about you?  Are you holding anything in or holding back so that you are still wearing that "ugliness"?  Our Lord and Savior is coming.  He is Emmanuel!  We, as Catholics, have to step outside of the secularism of Christmas.  We must ready ourselves for the birth of Jesus, and we must show the world our joy.  God chose to come to earth as an infant born in a dirty stable "between an ox and a donkey" (entre le boeuf et l'ane gris).  The words "humble beginning" don't even begin to describe Jesus' arrival.  He chose to be born into a family as a helpless baby with a very young unwed mother.  This is how God sees His world - imperfect.  We are imperfect, but we are always pliable...moldable.  We can change as easily as children can.  We can become shiny and new.  Christ is always calling us.  He is coming.  His birth is imminent.  It is through this infant child - God's only Son - that we are able to cleanse ourselves even if we come from humble beginnings or are stained from life's dirty stable that we may find ourselves in now.  Prepare the way and prepare your heart for Christ the King...a king born between an ox and a donkey.

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Giving Thanks

Goodies from a Thanksgiving past
If it weren't for those mighty strong early British settlers and the Native Americans who helped them survive that first winter, we wouldn't have this glorious holiday.  My ancestors came to this country from England and Ireland not long after the original flock of Pilgrims, so I have always had a soft spot in my heart for this day.  My relatives lived and died for this country and the promise it brought.  I am thankful to them for their strength and tenacity.

It is difficult to imagine life back then and the perils they encountered.  We have become so comfortable in our wealth and common comforts, that it would be unconscionable to think of sleeping outside in the elements or afraid of closing our eyes at night for fear of an attack from a band of foreign peoples.  How long would we last if we had to hunt down our food - or grow it from seed...all of it?   What if we had to build our homes just from things we could find growing around us? How would we stay warm when the temperatures dipped towards freezing or below?

I think of the women of that time and I can't help but be in awe of them.  We women have more on our plates than men when it comes to "adventuring".  I can not imagine being pregnant and giving birth at that time in our nation's history.  How many women on those original ships were pregnant?  How many women survived and gave birth to healthy children?  That actually seems like a miracle when you consider how the odds were stacked against them.

Yes, this nation was founded on strength, tenacity, sheer will, and faith.  Faith was the glue that bound those early settlers.  Their prayers during that first winter were heard and they prayed in thanksgiving over that large meal they shared with their Native American friends.

This Thanksgiving, my family and I will pray and thank God for all of the blessings He has bestowed upon us.  I can't imagine being any richer.  I am thankful for so many things this year: the Church, my husband, my children, our health, our home, our friends, and our extended family.  I am also thankful for all of you who stop by to take a peak at this blog.  This has really been a blessing in my life to be able to finally put all of my sometimes incongruent thoughts "down on paper".  My husband has been telling me for twenty years to write, so this is my start.  I have really been enjoying maintaining this blog, as well as getting to see the numbers of people who read it and the countries from which they hail.  I wish all of you a blessed Thanksgiving filled with love, health, and full bellies.  May God bless each and every one of you!

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Duggars say YES to Twenty!

Okay, I'm feeling a definite need to respond to people's comments about the Duggars being pregnant with their twentieth child.  My comment is, "Congratulations!  I'm so happy for them!"  This family is an example to us all on how to keep our eyes on the Lord.  Their priorities are straight...God and family.  And God is blessing them richly.

I have seen comments like, "they are disgusting" and "they are irresponsible."  Really?  Since when was having children disgusting?  Since when did it become irresponsible for a husband and wife who are madly in love with each other to have a large family?  The Duggars are doing just fine.  They feed, clothe, bathe, love, and provide a beautiful home for their children.  They are raising every single one of them without financial assistance from the government so they are not a burden to society at large.  They homeschool all of their children, so they are actually paying into the public school system but not taking from it in any way.  They instill strong Christian principles into all of their children.  They attend Church every weekend, even hosting their entire church in their own home on occasion.  They are stewards to the community at large by helping in soup kitchens, rebuilding people's homes after storms, etc.  They also make sure that every single one of their children can play an instrument or two - I believe their main instrument of choice is the violin.  Hmmmm, irresponsible?  disgusting?  I'm not really seeing what is so disgusting or irresponsible about them.

Is it that people think they might have a child with a disability now that Michelle is 45?  Is that really up to you to decide?  (I'm sorry to make this analogy but it reminds me of when so many people said they wouldn't vote for John McCain because he would probably die while in office from his skin cancer.  Guess what?  He's still very well alive.)  God sends his children to us with all types of imperfections all the time.  They are still God's children and made in His image.  They are supposed to be here.  They are not mistakes.  That attitude makes me ill.  Someone said to me today, "I don't mean to be selfish, but I wouldn't want one with problems."  Really?  REALLY?  Guess what?  All children will have problems at one time or another.  They're just all different and sometimes they don't manifest until much later.  It may be as simple as having trouble in school socially, or it may be at the other end of the spectrum such as having cerebral palsy.  All children are children of God made in His image, and all children are blessings.

I'm happy for the Duggars.  They are an inspiration to me as I deal with my daily struggles with my measly four - compared to their nineteen!  I will pray for them and their newest twentieth addition on the way.  I will pray that some people in our culture who would otherwise despise everything they represent begin to see the beauty that is in the Duggar family.  They are anything but disgusting or irresponsible.  I can think of many other adjectives to describe them and those two would not be there.  I wish them well.

p.s.  For anyone who does not know who the Duggars are, they are a large family who has a show on The Learning Channel.  You can see all about them here:  The Duggar Family

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

As Halloween Approaches, Keep Your Eyes on the Lord



Growing up in and around the occult, I was acutely aware that evil lurked among us.  I'm not really sure why I knew that since the occult was kind of "my norm".  Perhaps God was speaking to me at a very young age and warning me of the potential door openings with this type of behavior.  I would like to think so...and I feel fortunate that I heard Him.

It wasn't  until I entered the Catholic faith and began doing research, that I realized just how many doors it can open.  As I looked back at familial situations and relationships, I realized there were dark forces at hand.  I'm sure there are people you have known that just don't feel trustworthy or there have been situations that you felt were being controlled by someone with a black heart. Your instincts were probably right.

I think these forces can have a role in someone's life if that person takes his/her eyes off of God and lives for the secular/material world.  Those forces can have a role in someone's life if that person even dabbles in the occult...just a little bit.  All of those seemingly harmless things like astrology, numerology, psychics, tarot cards, etc. are not actually harmless.  They are a door you don't want to open.

If you keep your eyes on God and work for the glory of God in all you do and with all your heart, mind, and soul, the darkness can not invade.  It will shrink because you are living in the light.  When it's night and you accidentally turn on a bright light, you are temporarily blinded are you not?  It is just so bright and then everything in the room is very clear.  God is just like that.  You will be able to clearly see the choices you need to make, roads you may have to take.  It can only be done correctly in the light.

I'm wondering how many of you are living for the glory of God?  Are you working for His glory?  Are you evangelizing?  Are you role-modeling?  Are you being a good friend, wife, husband, sister, brother, aunt, uncle, cousin, daughter, son, grandmother, or grandfather?  God calls each of us in different directions, but the right direction is always lit by His light.  Follow his path.  Listen intently, and He will not steer you wrong.  It is when we veer off the "Glory of God" road that we get into trouble.

There is a battle going on all around us for souls.  I often wonder if it's a bit like pulling back a sheer curtain to see EXACTLY what's on the other side.  I almost feel it's that close...just a sheer curtain.  Be mindful of all your actions and thoughts - especially during this time of year.  Halloween is not by any stretch of the imagination a Christian holiday!  Be prayerful.  Keep your eyes on the Lord.  Do all things for the Glory of God and in the name of Jesus Christ!  St. Michael the Archangel defend us in battle!

Saturday, October 22, 2011

Pro-Life Video for Sanctity of Life Sunday | The Miracle of Life

This is such a beautiful video. It just speaks volumes in such a short amount of time and with profound beauty. Babies are a GIFT FROM GOD! They are BLESSINGS! Enjoy!!!

Thursday, October 20, 2011

Here's to Saying YES to LIFE!!!

In the early years of my marriage, I had thought that I would work in the pro-life arena at some point in the future.  I wasn't ready then.  I wasn't even sure I was 100% pro-life (you know, what about the whole rape issue?  or incest?).  Over time, fifteen years to be exact, my heart softened, my eyes were opened, and my ears heard God's calling.  Last year at this time is when I officially joined the pro-life movement as my parish's respect life coordinator.  I don't do anything unless I'm certain, and of this I was certain.

This is how the story goes...
Last September (2010) I was on facebook and noticed that Fr. Mitch Pacwa and Johnette Benkovic would be appearing together in Nebraska, I believe it was, for a pro-life something or other.  I commented on the posting something to the effect of "please please please come down here to South Florida!" I received a very nice email the next day from Fr. Mitch's marketing person inviting me to Florida's statewide Respect Life conference in October.  I sat in front of the computer speechless.  I sat and stared at the computer because I had said that when the time was right for me to get involved, God would let me know.  Well, I had just received a formal invitation.  I ran to tell my husband and he smiled and said, "you always said God would let you know when the time was right."

I had just attended my parish's women's Emmaus retreat in August, so I decided to send out an invitation to the women for the Respect Life Conference in October.  I received a beautiful email from one of the women saying that she had been officially in charge of the Respect Life ministry at our parish for several years, but had been unable to do anything with it other than her adoration group because of personal time constraints.  I didn't even know we had a ministry at church - never saw anything in the bulletins regarding pro-life work.  That had always bothered me, actually.  She asked if I would consider being the new coordinator for the parish.  I laughed as if I was being tickled.  It was just too perfect...one invitation after another.  She said she had been praying for three years for a young mother to step forward and take over.  Too perfect!  I laughed, called her, and exuberantly said, "YES!" (with the pastor's approval of course)

Not long after, I was told that our parish had already volunteered itself as the host parish for the annual Walk for Life which would be occurring in January...and I was now in charge of it!  Well, at five months pregnant with our fourth child, I can tell you that it seemed like a daunting task.  It ended up being an amazingly beautiful morning with a mass, exposition of the Holy Eucharist, adoration for those who did not want to or could not walk, the walk (the pathway decorated with pink and blue balloons and color signs with photographs of a baby's growth in utero), procession with the Holy Eucharist, and Benediction.  It humbled me for sure.

There was a dark moment in November, however, when I became discouraged and thought it would be a disaster.  I had been praying about it for a week and was losing hope in its success.  One night, I sat down at our computer to fix a printer problem.  Long story short, I had to download software from the internet to fix the problem.  It was midnight and sitting in front of the computer, staring at the screen waiting for the download, I fell asleep three different times.  When the download was done, it prompted me to print something to see if it was working.  I went into my documents and looked for something short to print.  I couldn't see the actual words as the icons were too small, but I saw a page with what looked like one sentence on it.  I actually laughed out loud, in my exhaustion stupor, at the idiot who would save a one sentence document.  Anyway, it would be used to my advantage that night.  I hit print, sat down and closed my eyes again.  I opened them again about fifteen minutes later (another short nap), pulled out the paper and read the sentence.  It read, "Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven." (I later found out this had been one of my oldest son's school projects from two years prior.)

I fell back in my chair and stared at that paper reading it over and over...as it was the same message I had received in my Emmaus retreat a few months earlier.  I swear!  On the last day of the retreat, we picked our seat.  Each seat had a placemat facedown. We were asked to turn it over and read the scripture passage.  This had been mine.  I had been feeling unjustly persecuted by my family at the time of my retreat and it brought me to tears.  As I sat there that night in front of my computer with my printout in my hand with the same scripture passage, I was overwhelmed with God's mercy and love.  I had been feeling so overwhelmed with the planning of the walk and not getting much help as my ministry was a ministry of one.  God does work in mysterious ways, but sometimes He is like a 2x4 to the head.  Jesus would be with me on that walk, planning and all.

Mary had led me to Jesus during my conversion to Catholicism, Mary had led me to motherhood all those years ago in my early teaching days with the Carmelite sisters, my motherhood led me to the road to Emmaus where I finally encountered Christ face to face.  He had always been there.  He was now reassuring me He would continue to be here.  I would persevere for Him, for God's kingdom...for God's children.  Here's to saying YES to LIFE!!!

Here are some photos from the fruits of that labor...the Walk for Life January 2011:










Saturday, October 8, 2011

Respect Life Month and Being Called to Be Faithful, Not Successful

I've been wanting to write about Respect Life month, but have been finding it difficult to sit myself down to do this.  I know why.  I'm frustrated with the small amount of support on this topic from "the higher ups".  I don't know why this topic can be so taboo for even priests.  Without families and children, the Church will cease to exist.  They should be the champions for life.  They should be professing it everyday.  They should be encouraging our Catholic families every way they can.  I don't feel it.  On Respect Life Sunday last week, not one homily at my parish had anything to do with the topic.  Missed opportunity?  To quote Sarah Palin, "You betcha!"

Could I have done more to ready my parish for Respect Life month?  Absolutely.  For example, I found out late about the Life Chain many parishes participate in each year.  Perhaps our little parish can be a part of that next year.  I will have to begin promoting it in September.  Perhaps we can have our own Walk for Life and not have to go to another parish for it?  We'll see.  We were the hosting parish this past January, but this upcoming January's walk will be at a different parish.  Perhaps next year I would be allowed to speak for a minute at all the masses about Respect Life month - especially since it isn't even mentioned in the homilies.  The bulletin inserts from the USCCB that should have gone into all the bulletins this month, won't be there.  It was decided they would be better off as a packet at the back of the Church on a small table for those who are interested to pick up.  sigh...

I know I'm not called to be successful.  I'm called to be faithful.  I am trying.  I trust in God's plan.  I know that this is where I'm supposed to be right now.  I know this is where my parish is supposed to be right now.  Good things will spring from this, and God will show me the way.  God will show our parish the way.  Perhaps these are all just growing pains.  I will continue to plug along and champion for life whenever and wherever.  If you are involved in your parish's respect life ministry I'd love to hear your ideas.

Friday, September 30, 2011

He Loves You Anyway


This is by far my favorite song right now...

Have you found that in times of stress, it is easier to sin?  Have you found that in times of stress, you may snap at your spouse, your children, parents, siblings, friends, coworkers, or just simply the cashier at the grocery store?  In times of stress, have you found that you begin to dislike your own life situations and want someone else's?  Have you envied another or been jealous...especially in those times of stress? Have you even lied - maybe just to save your own hide?  In times of stress, have you stolen because you didn't think you could pay for it on your own?  Have you cheated your way through anything?  In times of stress, have you felt so alone or sad or dejected that you actually consciously begin walking backwards away from God's presence...His grace...His everyday miracles...His love?

Stress in our lives can cause us to behave irrationally and counter to God's teachings.  The amazing thing is that God sent His Son to earth to die on the cross for our sins.  God loves all of His creation that much.  If you are feeling the effects from stress, remember that God will never give you a cross that is too heavy for you to carry.  He made our shoulders broad so that we could carry that cross.  If you have found yourself in a particularly sinful state, you might want to speak with a priest.  Christ is waiting for you.  He loves you and is waiting for your repentance.  You are not alone in your sins.  We are all sinners just wading through the murky waters of life.  Let Christ help you.  And know that He loves you anyway.

"I am the thorn in your crown, but you love me anyway.
I am the sweat from your brow, but you love me anyway.
I am the nail in your wrist, but you love me anyway.
I am Judas' kiss, but you love me anyway.

...but you love me anyway. It's like nothing in life that I've ever known."   ~Sidewalk Prophets

Friday, September 16, 2011

Healing Mass for Women to Honor Our Lady of Sorrows




I've been praying about the Respect Life ministry at my Church.  It is a ministry of two - a friend of mine and me.  It is also a fledgling. There really haven't been any pro-life activities there in the past, so I don't have much guidance and I sometimes get frustrated because I don't know where it's going.  I find myself frequently reminding myself, "I'm not in control, I'm not in control, I'm not in control," and "it's on His timetable not mine."

I had been feeling like I wanted the ministry to go in the direction of helping women.  I just felt very strongly that there a lot of hurting women out there who need consoling, help, and our prayers.  I was thinking mostly about post-abortive women.  I think there are more of them out there than we know.  It generally isn't something women talk about, but I, for one, know three women close to me who have had abortions, so there must be countless others.  I'm sure there are many women sitting in mass each week who live with the pain of a past abortion, and we as a Church community need to help.  

The start of the school year and the first round of viruses just about knocked me down (thus the hiatus from blogging and tweeting), and I haven't had the time to devote to the ministry.  All I knew was that Respect Life month was coming up in October, I'll be including pro-life material in the weekly Church bulletins in October, and beyond that I wanted to get on with my plan to help the women in our parish in some way.  I didn't know how, but that was the plan!

Two weeks ago, our resident retired priest asked if he could get involved with my ministry.  He said he felt a calling to help women - that we have problems and sorrows particular only to women.  Ummm, what?  I wanted to look up at the ceiling of my Church and say, "Thank you God!"  Boy, someone heard me on that prayer.  Anyway, he called me a couple days later and said he had an idea for a healing mass for women on the Feast Day of Our Lady of Sorrows (Sept. 15th).  I thought it was such a beautiful idea and I of course said yes and that I would help him however he needed it.  I immediately thought of the song, "Hail Mary; Gentle Woman."  Our music director rarely plays it, but my former parish did and I really miss singing it.  I almost requested it the week prior, but decided to completely leave the entire mass in God's hands.  I knew it would be exactly what it was supposed to be, not what I wanted it to be.  Lo and behold, our music director played the song as we went up for Communion.  It was such a wonderful surprise.

Long story short, the mass was tonight and it was beautiful.  The lights in the Church were low, the music was beautiful, our priest was personable and humble, and I could tell many women were feeling our Lord's arms around them.  Before the Eucharist, each woman was invited to come up to the altar with a small votive candle, light it from the large candle in front of the altar, and then place it in either the candelabras to the sides of the altar or on a small table in front of the altar with a picture of Mary smiling at Jesus. Once everyone had placed their candles, those were the only lights in the Church...just beautiful.

Even though I was sort of "working" I was trying so hard to be present in the mass as well.  I thought I would be bringing to the altar the many trials I go through on a daily basis just being a mother...and then I found myself grieving for my two babies I lost in utero.  Even though I had grieved for them many times in the past, I had never laid them in God's arms in my mind.  I lit my candle for my two babies I never got to hold, and I set my candle before Mary.  I handed my babies to Mary and placed them in Her care for all eternity.  I could never understand the pain She went through losing Jesus the way She did but I know She understands my loss.

God is mysterious and awesome.  He always seems to surprise me, and yet be a solid rock on which I can stand.  This was a beautiful evening filled with God's healing power.  It seemed as if many women walked away healed.  I hope some of them did.  As for me, I went to help my priest, to help women in our parish, and I walked away with closure over losing my two babies.  I left my pain at the foot of the Cross, and I left my babies in Mary's arms.

Friday, August 26, 2011

Thoughts on Hurricanes

Living through Hurricane Andrew was an experience I don't really want to repeat, but one that brought about several lessons.  First, prepare, prepare, prepare.  Secondly, don't hold on (emotionally) to material possessions because they truly become dust in the wind.  Lastly, after the storm passes, the sun will come out and the weather will be balmy and beautiful (at least for a day).

As Hurricane Irene made its way scarily close to us on Thursday, the weather was horrible.  We were pretty much shut in the house all day because the squalls were so unpredictable and came with inordinate amounts of rain and wind.  Even though I needed to go to the grocery store, I decided to stay in with the kids and pull out something from the freezer for dinner.  Luckily, I had made spaghetti sauce last week and frozen the leftovers.  The day was long being shut in, but I thought about the day after Andrew and particularly Wilma.  I remember the weather being so windy and sunny.  It was more like an early spring day.  Our summers are so hot, humid, and usually still that the wind and cooler weather is like a little gift amidst the chaos in the aftermath.

So, I was thinking what the weather would be like on Friday.  Lo and behold, I woke up Friday morning to one of the most glorious South Florida skies I have ever seen.  The sky was blue blue blue and with very few clouds.  The breezes were strong and the temps were below 90 - definitely a gift in the middle of August!  I made sure I spent as much time as I could outside with the kids on Friday.   It was so unusually beautiful for our time of year that it made me think of how all that big blue beautiful sky was there all along under that rain - it's just easy to forget when you can't see much beyond the end of your car in the sheets of rain.

In our lives, we endure many storms.  It's difficult to see beyond them or our way out sometimes, but God is always there.  He is always with us, like the blue sky.  This time of year, it is easy to get bogged down under the pressures of daily family life with the advent of the new school year.  There are a million responsibilities and it's easy to forget to breathe and remember what's important in life.  The things that matter are the things that matter to God.  It's not whether your kids have straight A's or if they're the best ball player or ballerina.  What matters are your relationships with your family - your children and your husband or wife.  Our lives are really made up of a lot of little storms with a few hurricanes thrown in.  Our faith gets us through these storms.  It's the faith in knowing that God's mercy is always there and that the calm is usually just around the corner.  God has a plan for each of us and we are called to be faithful.

The three lessons I learned from Hurricane Andrew apply to our everyday lives.  First, prepare: prepare your family for a life with Christ.  Your only goal as a parent is to get your children to heaven.  Secondly, don't worry about the trinkets and knick-knacks.  They become dust in a hurricane and prove that God's love and mercy is always stronger than any problem we might be hanging on to.  And lastly, as a sunny sky is almost always inevitable after a storm, so it is in your life.  Walk with Christ always - even in your storms - and you will find love and mercy.

I pray tonight for the citizens of North Carolina and on up the Eastern Seaboard.  May they all have minimal damage from Hurricane Irene, and may they see God's love and mercy even amidst this storm.

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Have Kids and Dance with Them Like There's No Tomorrow!



Tonight, my husband came home from work and told me a story about something he saw today.  Two "twenty-somethings" (a man and woman) were comparing pictures on their cell phones of their adorable, sweet....wait for it.........dogs.   Apparently, their dogs had outfits, and cute poses, and fur "just so", and they were clearly VERY loved - or spoiled - however you want to look at it.  Anyway, my husband said to them, "Man, you guys have got to have some kids."  He said the look of disgust that came over their faces was quite a sight.  They looked like he had just poured a drink in their lap, when all he did was mention the idea of having a child. The woman even said, "Kids?  No way.  I am NOT having kids.  You can't put kids in kennels."

And there you have it, folks.  This is how many of our twenty-somethings feel about God's greatest gift to them.  So much of the time, we think we can do things our way and on our terms and on our timetables, only to be "schooled" by God.  We think we can even tell God a thing or two.  The one time, He actually asks us for our help in His creation, we turn our backs on Him.  I hate to say this, but that woman is the prime example of so many who build portfolios and travel visas in their twenties and thirties only to find themselves lonely and depressed as they approach forty.

Of course, we have the pill to thank for our (ahem) liberation and the ability to work ourselves into the ground in pursuit of the latest designer handbag, pair of shoes, toy dog, or whatever.  Things will never make one happy - NEVER.  They are unfulfilling.  It's like a sugar rush.  You get so happy to have that bag of m&m's at 3pm, only to feel horrible at 4pm...longing for the meal.  Children are your offspring.  They are God's greatest gift to us.  They fulfill our lives in ways we could never comprehend before having them - like a wonderful homecooked meal (that takes time and effort) compared to the vending machine candy.  They are more than dressing them up in cute outfits and photographing them to show our colleagues and friends.  They are most definitely all about sleepless nights, messy houses, dirty clothes, diapers, impromptu artwork on the walls, runny noses, fevers, tummy aches, sibling rivalries, spitting contests, wrestling, repeated questions, lots of arm folding and eye rolling, but they are also about sloppy kisses all over your face, out-of-the-blue hugs and kisses and i love yous, homemade cards, hand holding, wearing beloved hand-me-downs, bubbly bubble baths, craft making, artwork proudly displayed on the fridge, jammie time, silly toddler words and catchphrases you'll remember for a lifetime, anytime snuggles, tiny hands caressing your face, a baby's gaze into your eyes, a teenager's "thank you", storybook reading, family vacations (that are torture at the time, but you wouldn't trade those funny memories for anything), lots of dancing (especially to Barry White), and the greatest most unconditional love you could ever know.  Our time on this earth is so limited and so precious.  If you have children, hug and kiss them a LOT.  Also, teach them how to be good parents - how to love children the way YOU love THEM.  We have to stop this pervasive negative attitude towards "family".  The time is right now.  You can never regain yesterday.

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Marriage: Outdated Institution or God's Gift to Us?

Apparently I have been living under a rock for the past twenty years because it seems like all of a sudden, very few young couples are getting married.  Well, to loosely quote a noted celebrity, marriage is an outdated institution that has no place in our society anymore.  REALLY?  And what about all the images on tv that bombard our society with the idea that living together is not only okay, but expected and the "smart" way of entering a possible marriage?

One of my favorite guilty pleasures is watching "The Bachelor/Bachelorette".  My husband likes to poke fun at my addiction to this show, but I can tell you I watch it closely and it is a sociological experiment.  To watch many young men and women act (and dress) inappropriately, only to be crushed to find out they haven't been chosen is something to behold.  In their moment of despair after just being "booted", they always lament the notion they will never find the love of their life and the mother or father to their future children.  So, what I come away from that show with is that under the glamorous clothing, makeup, hairstyles...beneath the catfights...women want to be loved, to be made safe, and to be a wife and mother.  Under the bravado, the pride, the large muscles, and GQ clothing, men want to be loved, to feel they are keeping a woman safe, and to be a husband and father.  This is instinctual.  This is how God created us.

Because I'm still nursing my baby girl, I get some time in front of the television.  Really, the only time I get caught up on society at large is when I have a baby and am nursing.  Once the baby turns one and I can give cow's milk, the tv usually gets turned off, the kids are runnin', and I'm runnin' right behind them.  Nighttimes are filled with play, bath, and bedtime...and me passing out not long after.  However, for the next six months or so, I'll get a lot of face time with the television.  A channel I watch a lot is HGTV - for two reasons.  I find it interesting to see how people live all around the world, and it's usually harmless if children are in the room.  However, I have noticed a huge jump in the amount of young couples "making that leap" and buying their first house together - only, they're not married.  It's all fine and dandy, but if one were to think this channel is portraying society at large, we are in a LOT of trouble.

I am noticing more and more a complete breakdown of the family unit - and I mean complete breakdown.  We have gotten so far away from seeing a normal healthy family with two parents - male and female - that to show a family like that on television now would be insensitive...to all the "nontraditional" families.  The more we see young couples living together and throwing away the sacrament of marriage, the more numb we become to all of the troubles that will stem from that.  The Catholic Church is very clear about marriage as a sacrament, and once again She is wise.

When I was growing up, my dad always used to say that a woman should never first live with a man because there would be no incentive for the man to make her his wife.  All of his selfish desires would be fulfilled.  My dad was right.  When a woman moves in with her boyfriend, she is most certainly giving up her purity.  And for what?  For the chance that he might make a real commitment to her by making her his wife at some future date?  Many people would say why go through the legal hassles of a marriage when it will most likely end in divorce, which will bring even bigger legal hassles?  There won't be any strings attached and the man or woman can walk away at anytime.  Sounds tempting, but that is not how God designed us.

"To heal the wounds of sin, man and woman need the help of the grace that God in his infinite mercy never refuses them. Without his help man and woman cannot achieve the union of their lives for which God created them 'in the beginning'."  (Catechism of the Catholic Church 1608)

So, in the beginning, God created man and woman to achieve a union of their lives.  We are created from the beginning to find each other, love each other enough to make a sacramental bond, and work together at raising a family.  Our spouses are gifts from God.  Marriage is a gift from God.   A marriage is about giving yourself over to another - completely.  It is about loving the other so much you can't imagine a day without him/her.  It is unselfish.  It is giving.  It is a completion of one's heart.  The two hearts come together and form one, and in return for this selflessness God has granted us a gift of being fruitful and producing children - more children to enter into God's kingdom.  Children are the fruits of a marriage and they learn respect and obedience in a family that they will take out into the world.  A couple's mutual love is an image of the love God has for mankind.  God's love for us is unending and unconditional.  So too should our love be for our spouses.

So how can a couple say that they are loving unselfishly or unconditionally if they are merely living together with the idea that backing out altogether is always present within the relationship?  No couple in love should start their lives together this way.  They are not being "smart" by testing the waters.  They are hurting each other and themselves.  They are not respecting each other or themselves enough to make a commitment to the love of their lives.  They are not really willing to completely give over their heart.  If someone says, "well, we lived together to see if we were compatible living together," then I would say they didn't date long enough.  Dating is the time when a couple should be learning as much as possible about the other person and asking the hard questions.  I'm sorry, but society at large just doesn't have this one right.

Sunday, July 24, 2011

Prayers Needed Across the Atlantic

Please pray for this woman and her family - especially her two small children and her baby growing inside her.  She was recently diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer which has spread to her liver.  She is only thirty one years old.  Her blog is wonderful - drop her a line and let her know you're praying for her!

Stage 4 breast cancer..? But I wanna live forever!: A visit from More Nanny

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

The Road to Emmaus

This time last year, we had only just recently found out I was pregnant.  Wow...what would it be like having four children in the house?  I had so many questions as to how we would manage. We don't have a ton of family help readily available, and I just found myself feeling a little overwhelmed.  I had resigned myself to the fact that God was in control back on kid #2.  Sooo, if I were to practice what I preached, I would have to relax and trust God with this one too.

This new baby would be blessing number four for us, and I was over-the-moon happy.  Of course, I'd be lying if I didn't say I wondered if we would be buying any pink this time around, but I vowed I wouldn't go there.  I was happy and wanted to stay that way.  We decided not to find out if it would be a boy or a girl this time and just let it be.  Man, that was a whole other issue that I could write an entire blog about.  In my previous pregnancies, we had wanted to know "boy or girl" and it was always easy for the ultrasound technicians to see.  The ultrasounds kind of went like this, "So you want to know?  Okay, let's see if we see anything...Oh...Oh boy!!!!"  With my third son, I found out by myself as my husband was home caring for our other two.  I called him and said, "Well, it doesn't look like we'll need to buy new crib bedding."

This fourth baby was different though.  I went for three ultrasounds - even paying for a fourth (the 4d) - and every time the baby was turned so no one could see.  The baby was shy I thought.  I had a hunch it was a girl, but I would never dare say that out loud.  I just left each office visit with a big smile on my face as if it was a secret between the baby and me.  Even if it had turned out to be a boy, I would have felt this really close special spiritual bond with that baby.  It was as if the lines of communication were open and flowing but only between the baby and me.  I reveled in it.

Okay, back to the "feeling overwhelmed" thing.  Last summer, my church offered a women's Emmaus weekend retreat.  For any of you who don't know what it is, it is a weekend to come to know Christ - either for the first time or to get to know him better.  It is based on the Scripture passage about the two disciples who are walking on the road to the city of Emmaus soon after Jesus' death. They encounter Him on the road but do not recognize him.  When they reach the city, they ask Him to stay and eat with them.  "When he was at table with them, he took the bread and blessed and broke it, and gave it to them.  And their eyes were opened and they recognized him; and he vanished out of their sight." Lk 24:30-32

Okay, so at this point in my life, I knew God was in control and I knew Christ had been calling me, and I knew his mother Mary had been pointing the way.  Intellectually, I got all that, but I was feeling a little defeated - kind of like, "Aha!  I got you when you weren't looking!"  So I decided to sign myself up for the retreat in hopes that I would find out ways to be a better mother for my children.  I hoped to get ideas about how to care for four children.  Well, let's be honest, I was hoping angels would come down out of the ceiling and hand me all the answers written down neatly so I could easily and quickly refer back whenever an occasion should arise.  Hmmmm

I went in looking for help in parenting, and I remember saying to God, "Okay, I'll go, but I'm not going to go looking for answers regarding my family.  I don't even want to go there.  Jesus, I'll go for you.  I'll go for parenting tips and nothing else."  I clearly hadn't gotten it yet!  A few years back, I had attended a penance service at church and vowed to fight for Christ no matter what the cost would be.  I lost my family soon after that.  I had turned to St. Michael many times for strength during that period.  (You can read about that story here:  "Signing Up in Christ's Army" )

So, I signed myself up for the retreat and upon arrival on that first night, we were brought into a classroom and given a seating assignment.  There were tables of about five or six chairs each.  We were a large Emmaus group that year, twenty two I believe.  One of the leaders told us which table we had been assigned, and said that each table had been given the name of an angel.  I was pointed in the direction of the table to the right.  My table was "St. Michael the Archangel".  I literally laughed out loud.  It was another "gotcha" moment, but in my stubbornness I thought it must refer to something else...it couldn't possibly have anything to do with my family.  I was there to get parenting tips, after all.

On the second night of the retreat, we were brought to the church for confession and a small service afterwards.  Well, I knew what I wanted to confess before I ever even walked in and thought "Great.  This will be quick!"  That's not really where my heart should have been before confessing...and Jesus knew that.  The leaders were supposed to bring us up one by one.  I sat in my chair ready to go.  I waited and waited and waited...watched each woman go before me...and waited some more.  People who know me know I don't wait well.  I sat there thinking, "Why am I waiting here so long?  Did they forget about me?"  I dare say I might have had a temper tantrum in my head about having to wait (kind of an "Elaine moment" from Seinfeld).  And then my line of questioning went to, "Okay, why are you making me wait here so long when you know that I have been ready to confess since I arrived?"  Uh-oh, maybe Jesus was making me sit there and think about why I was really there that weekend.  I hadn't wanted to think about my family.  I just wanted parenting tips!  I closed my eyes, humbled myself that night inside the church, and realized I needed to speak to Jesus about my relationship with my family.  I agreed that's what I would do.  Right then, one of the leaders tapped me on the shoulder and walked with me to the confessional.  It was one of the greatest nights I have ever had.  I walked out finally free...no more chains...Jesus had waited patiently for me to move through my selfishness and tantrums to finally come to Him in humility and ask for absolution.

There were a few other things that happened that weekend that are inexplicable except for the answer that with God all things are possible and Jesus is walking with us on our journeys.  It's really a matter of whether or not we see Him.  I went into the weekend with hesitation, wondering if I would get anything out of it and found myself sitting humbly with Christ, realizing it was He who had been waiting patiently for me all my life.  He had always been there and was waiting for me to see Him.  In my selfish request of wanting those elusive parenting tips, I came to terms with my relationship with my family and was able to finally move past it.  I felt strength like I had never felt before.  I had found those precious parenting tips...for how could I be a good mother if I was stuck in the past or feeling guilty or depressed.  Jesus freed me that weekend so I could be a better mother to my four children.  It's amazing how God works when we let go of that wheel knowing Christ is really the one who's been driving all along - leading us to his Father.

Monday, July 11, 2011

Whoa! My Parenting Rules Changed! Fifteen Things Since Baby#4

Once I passed over the threshold of having three children I realized that some of the parenting rules had changed.  When my oldest son was little he was an only child and as busy as I was being his mother, I can tell you the house was a LOT cleaner than it is today.  I also wasn't late very often, I never missed an opportunity to take him to one of his friend's birthday parties, we ate out a lot more, his clothes were new, and I was able to keep up with the laundry.

At the end of this past school year, not only was I late (due to two diaper blowouts in the parking lot) to my preschooler's last day of school, but when I arrived, all the moms were crying and I asked ,"Why are you guys all so upset?" I was imagining a death in someone's family, but was met with,"Oh, this is their last day together." My confusion immediately turned into embarassment.  What a horrible mother I was that I too wasn't sad.  Well, maybe I would have been if it hadn't been for the diaper blowouts, baby girl strapped to my chest, and bam-bam my two year old son pulling on my arm.  I was a little distracted these days, and it was probably a blessing. I couldn't help but think back to when my fifteen year old graduated from preschool and I was nuts about not missing a second! How things had changed!  Luckily, my crying friends looked at me with those pitiful eyes and just waved off my ignorance as they had been doing all year.

I am not the same mother I was all those years ago, and that's okay.  We're supposed to adapt to the needs of our children no matter how many we have, right?  I do know the rules have changed a bit though.

Here are my top fifteen things I've learned since the arrival of baby #4:

1)  It is impossible to keep all toys in their place at any given time.  As a matter-of-fact, I'm convinced they reproduce if in one place for too long, so scatter them about!
2)  It is not only okay to arrive an hour late to a birthday party but sort of expected, and really just considered great that you made it at all!
3)  It is okay for my kids to miss brushing their teeth every now and then.  They're baby teeth after all - they'll fall out anyway, right?
4)  If my boys can still see out from under their hair, it doesn't need to be cut yet.
5)  It's okay for my two year old's wardrobe to consist entirely of hand-me-downs.  Ooh ooh, I have become a "green" mom!
6)  I'm pretty convinced that a pop-tart is a nutritious start to the day.  The box says it contains wheat, milk, egg, and soy.  Doesn't get much better than that!
7)  It's okay to occasionally forget to send in a required item to school for your child.  You are "that mom with all those kids" afterall.  That works for me!
8)  If one kid gets sick, cease all cleaning immediately.  The faster everybody gets sick, the faster you'll all get better...because you KNOW everyone will catch those nasty preschool germs anyway.
9)  There's no use crying over spilled anything - it's a daily occurrence.  Dogs are very useful here.
10) The five-second rule automatically gets revamped to whatever mom deems appropriate at the moment.
11) It's okay for everyone's drawers to be empty, the clean clothes are all folded and stacked on top of the dining room table.  Much easier to find, right?
12) It's okay to leave the dishes in the sink and the house a disaster and go play with your kids outside.  The Pope even just recently instructed parents to spend more time outdoor with their kids. That leaves less time for cleaning - woohoo!  I knew I liked this Pope!
13) It's okay for baby's first foods to include big brother's green lollipop as recently discovered!
14) It's okay for the kids to skip their nightly bath every once in a while - especially if it means they'll all be in bed sooner!
15) It's NOT okay to not live in the moment and embrace each spill, sickness, ridiculous conversation, hug, or kiss whenever it comes along!

Happy parenting and may God bless you and your families - no matter the shape or size!


    

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Chance Meeting or God's intervention?

Ever run into someone from your past and you think, "Wow, how cool was that?"  Afterwards you realize that every part of that "chance" meeting was too perfect for it to be chance.

About a month before Easter, I began sitting in the back of the church for mass because I was worried the baby would begin fussing and I wouldn't be near that coveted escape route.  I arrived at mass early just so I could attain that golden seat...last row, back corner, near the door!  About twenty minutes into the service, the mother of an old friend walked into church.  I had never seen her there before, and I hadn't seen my friend in about eight years.  She stayed standing in the back and seemed to be looking for someone.  Needless to say, I waited for just the right moment to be able to get up and go say hi.  To make a long story short, we reunited and I was able to be reunited with her son, my old friend.

At Easter, he emailed to let me know he would be at church and he wanted me to meet his girlfriend.  It was so great to get to see him after so many years and to get to meet his new love.  I was so happy for him because he seemed so happy.  A couple months went by and he emailed me again asking to speak with me.  Uh-oh.  I was worried.  I called him that night after I got all the munchkins to bed, only to hear him say that his girlfriend was pregnant.  Even though this was not the most idyllic situation, I, of course, was elated for him because I had always known he was born to be a father.  I told him he'd be a wonderful dad and this baby was a gift from God.  His voice sounded happy tempered with fear and doubt.

He called me the next week very upset because his girlfriend was contemplating abortion.  He knew it was wrong but felt like he was doing the right thing in supporting whatever decision she made.  I told him it was his choice too.  He was the father and he had a voice as well.  That was his baby as much as it was hers.  I'm not sure he thought about that as our culture pounds it in to the brains of young people that it's only the mother's choice.  The baby doesn't have a choice either?  That baby was here for a reason and I had been placed back into my friend's life for a reason...and so I spoke up.

I told him about the Archdiocese Crisis Pregnancy Center where they could get help with baby items, counseling, parenting classes, and information about the life-long damaging effects of an abortion.  I reminded him of how the Catholic Church views all abortion...it is murder.  I also told him my husband and I would do whatever they needed if they kept the baby.  I offered to babysit once he or she was born.  We even offered to adopt if they felt they couldn't take care of their baby.  I felt like I was racing against a time clock.  Her family was in favor of the abortion and she was feeling pressured.  I convinced my friend to take his girlfriend to the center.  They went.  He called me as soon as they left the center to let me know they had decided to keep the baby...that they could never go through with an abortion.  He thanked me and told me he really didn't know what an abortion entailed.  His girlfriend was really happy, and he was ecstatic.  I was, well...over the moon!!!  They came to visit a few days ago and they showed me the ultrasound picture of their baby.  They both had it on their phones as their screen saver.  I cried as soon as I saw their tiny precious baby.  They were just like any other happy couple awaiting the arrival of their son or daughter.  How everything changed in just a few days.  As he put it, "It went from bad to awesome!"  God saved their baby...I just happened to be in the right place at the right time!

Friday, June 17, 2011

Father John Corapi: Will He Succeed as "The Black Sheep Dog"?

About three years ago, as I was pregnant with my third son, I sat on my family room sofa flipping channels in the middle of a weekday as my contractor worked in the background preparing our home for our new bambino.  I flipped over to EWTN, and there before me was a phenomenal speaker; a priest.  But this was a priest like none other I had ever seen or heard.  His voice was very deep and he spoke as if he were St. Michael here on earth.  I turned the volume up so high as to not miss one word - not one inflection.  I listened intently as he spoke of the beauty of the Catholic Church and of his conversion of heart and entrance into the priesthood.  It was such a great thing to watch and hear that when it was over, I was left with that same feeling one gets after having a fabulous dessert...thank you, but can I have more?  I wanted to stand up on my sofa, big belly and all, and yell "Heck yea, that guy's on our team!"



I followed Father John Corapi off and on throughout these past few years...watching and listening.  God surely blessed him with the gift of public speaking.  If you watch him, he will rarely look at notes or even stumble over a word.  I don't think I've even heard him say "um" or "uh", which is hard to do when publicly speaking.  The conviction with which he spoke and the decided spirit was something to behold.  He did not mince words - I believed in his message about spiritual warfare.  I believe spiritual warfare is all around us as we whiz through our lives like spinning tops, bobbling to one side then the next as things slow down, only to be set spinning once again by one of life's peaks or valleys.  Father Corapi fought the good fight against evil; against Satan.  I have seen firsthand the games Satan and his minions enjoy playing at the expense of our souls.  It is serious business.

So, here we are now at the onset of Father's Day weekend and a day away from Trinity Sunday.  Coincidentally, Father Corapi was ordained a priest on Trinity Sunday, and he announced today, after twenty years as a priest, that he would be leaving the priesthood due to unproven claims (as of yet) that he was inappropriate in some manner with a woman with whom he worked.  He vehemently proclaims his innocence.  He says the Bishop would put him in a state of indefinite suspension, and I think the idea of that is intolerable to him.  I have read the early blogs that are being written in response to his statement.  Many are ready to leave him in the dust as he walks away from his priesthood.  I understand that sentiment.  He is supposed to submit to the Church and to his Bishop.   I too wish his statement had been more from a point of humility.  He sounded more like a man of this earth, than a man of the cloth.



This is a man, however, who had at one time been very wealthy - successful, if you will, by our modern standards.  He is a go-getter.  He's probably not one to stand idle.   His latest book, an autobiography, "The Black Sheep Dog", was due to be released soon, so apparently he will be parlaying his ministry from a priestly one to one as a public speaker as the Black Sheep Dog.  He says he wants to reach the world.  Will he be successful?  He was a successful businessman at one point in his life.  Will his followers follow him into this venture or will they eventually fall away from him?  Scarier still, will his followers fall away from the Church in anger?  I, for one, will continue to watch and listen, but I stand firm in my faith and in my Church and its decisions.

What has happened to John Corapi?  Only he and God know with certitude.  Shouldn't he stay and fight for his priesthood with the same fervent desire that he has to speak publicly?  We don't know all that goes on or is said behind closed doors, but I find his decision troubling.  His fight with Satan has ultimately culminated into an attack on his character and either his submission to the Church, thus silencing him at least for some indefinite amount of time, or his walking away from his vocation, the vocation that gave him life and purpose.  Satan has surely won either way.  There will be followers of his who will, in their minds, lump this into the sex-abuse scandal and walk away from the Catholic Church altogether.  Truly faithful Catholics know it is only the excuse they've been looking for, as the Church is so much more than the people in power...but it is sad all the same.

Christianity was founded on the life, death, and resurrection of Christ.  His life was one of humility, His death was one of swift persecution, and His resurrection was God's saving grace.  I pray that John Corapi, "The Black Sheep Dog", will continue to live as Christ in humility, though he has been persecuted, and that God continues to send forth grace upon him and his followers.  As for the Church and its faithful believers, we will not allow Satan to stand in our way and "the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it."



Matthew 16: 16-23
"Simon Peter said in reply, "You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God."  Jesus said to him in reply, "Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah. For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my heavenly Father.  And so I say to you, you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it.  I will give you the keys to the kingdom of heaven. Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven." Then he strictly ordered his disciples to tell no one that he was the Messiah.  From that time on, Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer greatly from the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed and on the third day be raised.
Then Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him, "God forbid, Lord! No such thing shall ever happen to you."  He turned and said to Peter, "Get behind me, Satan! You are an obstacle to me. You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do."

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Pentecost Sunday, Sitting Shiva, and Saying Goodbye

On Sunday, I prepared myself to say goodbye to our beloved priest who was being transferred to a different parish.  I had known this day was coming for several weeks and thought I had shed all the tears I possibly could.  But Sunday morning came and I began to cry again.  I pulled myself together before mass, gathered up the family, and off we went.  As I was driving, I began to think of the disciples who wept when they had to say goodbye to Jesus.  He was their friend and teacher.  He was their beloved priest, if you will.  Their goodbye was final in their mind.  What grief must they have felt?  What pain must Mary have felt?  Jesus wasn't moving down the road to a different parish as my priest was.  I got sad all over again thinking of the disciples, which oddly made me feel better about my situation.  It kind of put it all into perspective.

Sitting in church before mass started, I started to well up again and found it very difficult to sit there knowing it would be the last time I would watch our priest process in and the last time I would share the Eucharist with him in our Church.  I began to think of Jesus again and remembered our priest would not be far away.  Jesus' friends and followers must have felt such desperation as his sentence was handed down.  Not only had they loved Him and believed in Him, but they would be willing to die for Him.  The love our parish had for our beloved priest was but a small window into the love those early disciples felt for Jesus.  I felt it.

After mass, I went to visit my neighbor and friend who was sitting shiva for her father who had passed away just a few days prior.  She knew his death was imminent as he was elderly and had been battling cancer, but he took a quick turn for the worse and his death was sudden.  I had been feeling her pain all week and was looking forward to attending shiva with her and her family.  Because we were in mass in the morning, I had missed the funeral and interment, but was able to go to her home for shiva.  I arrived in time for the prayer service they would be having in their home.  It was so beautiful as I stood in a house filled with family and friends steeped in Jewish faith and tradition.  It was that faith and tradition that I got swept up in.  How similar we are to one another; Judaism and Christianity.  We sang in Hebrew, repeated prayers, and prayed over the family.  Towards the end of the prayer service, there was a beautiful paragraph about saying goodbye, and I wrote down one of the sentences: "All that we prize is but lent to us, and the time comes when we must surrender it."

That sentence hit me like a brick.  I had been grieving for weeks over having to say goodbye to a friend, but here was my friend who had to say goodbye to her father forever.  She was grieving.  She was consoled by her faith and the prayers extended over her and her family.  I had been consoled earlier in the day at Church by my faith and the prayers said by our faith community.  It was Pentecost Sunday.  The Holy Spirit was alive and well - passing over all of us in our time of need.  I thought of Jesus and his grieving followers and friends, I thought of my Jewish friend and her grieving family, and I thought of my Church and its grieving community.  I was connected that day to Jesus and our Jewish roots.  Surely, Jesus would have sat shiva for Joseph?  We were all connected and our faith was what held us up.  I knew that the time had come to surrender.  Surrender I did.

"All that we prize is but lent to us, and the time comes when we must surrender it."

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

The Spirit is Leading Us Part II

In April 2009, we had our third son, John Paul.  Even though I was a little nervous about being branded the "Pope worshippers", we did name him after Blessed John Paul II.  As a protestant I had greatly admired JPII.  There was a definite curiosity there.  After I became Catholic (5 years after I was married), I knew I would someday work in the pro-life ministry of the Church.  JPII was big on the pro-life issue.  He has many great quotes on the topic.  As I was pregnant with my third child, I knew my time to join the movement was imminent.  Why not name our son after the only Pope I ever knew, and one who was so outspoken on the right to life issue?  We named him John Paul and of course our priest immediately said to me, "You know, people will call him JP."  I said, "Not if I can help it!"

Six weeks after his birth, in June 2009, my husband went to a men's retreat at Franciscan University in Steubenville, OH.  He met Danny Abramowitz, former professional football player and coach, and one of the "team" on EWTN's "Crossing the Goal" tv program.  They hit it off and spoke of one day starting a Catholic Men's Conference in our Archdiocese - we have never had one before.  To make a long story short, plans were laid out, meetings were arranged with one of our bishops, many meetings were made with the men's ministry of our parish, and two years later (March 2011) the First Annual Archdiocese of Miami Catholic Men's Conference went off without a hitch.  There were approximately 500 men in attendance - from numerous counties here in Florida.  The "Crossing the Goal" team were the speakers and Archbishop Wenski presided over the concluding mass.  It was apparently a beautiful day!

After the retreat in 2009, my husband made it his mission to bring Dr. Scott Hahn to our small parish.  Dr. Hahn arrived in March 2010 to a packed church.  Many people heard he was coming and came over from other parishes - as well as dioceses.  It was a great day for our parish.  Many eyes were opened that day to the beauty within the Catholic Church...told only the way Dr. Hahn can.  And you know, since I too can read Greek and Latin, he and I see eye to eye on all the biblical translations (no, just kidding...who reads Greek and Latin?).  But like Dr. Hahn, I am a convert as well, and I love his and his wife's story of conversion.  Dr. Hahn's presence helped to ignite the flame in starting the men's conference. 

In June 2010, my husband once again went to the men's retreat in Steubenville.  He was nervous about leaving me with three boys - one of them being a one year old.  I told him to go and not worry about it.  For some reason, I honestly cannot explain why, I decided to take a pregnancy test.  After having John Paul, we had decided to practice natural family planning.  It was new to us and we thought we would have time to read up on it and figure it all out.  It was okay though if something unplanned happened...we were open to life.  After having our first son, we had a miscarriage, and then apparently became infertile.  After nine and a half years, I gave birth to our second son.  I suffered another miscarriage in hopes that our second son could have a sibling closer in age, and then I became pregnant with John Paul.  You have to understand that I tormented myself all those years over yearning for a daughter and then feeling guilty about feeling that way.  I even used to think God was punishing me (I know God is not a punishing God) during my infertile period because I wanted things my way.  In June 2010, my husband was on retreat, I took the pregnancy test, and it was positive.  Was this my daughter?  I actually didn't want to know.  I had left this all in God's hands, and He was sending us another child.  I felt blessed beyond words.  

Saturday, May 28, 2011

The Spirit is Leading Us

When I converted to Catholicism, it was not "because my husband was Catholic."  I converted because in my heart I knew the truth had always been in the Catholic Church.  If anything, as a former Episcopalian raised in an occult-practicing home, I was jealous of anyone who had been born a Catholic.  It was like they had been given this incredible gift at birth and many didn't even know it or appreciate it.  I had been fighting for it most of my life.  Making my fifth and final college a Catholic one was a deliberate decision, choosing to teach in a Catholic school setting was handed to me on a silver platter and I accepted, and signing up for RCIA was a very conscious decision.  I knew what was at the end of that road and I couldn't wait to get there.

My husband is a cradle Catholic and early in our marriage he would tell me that, "It's cultural - being Catholic is who I am."  Of course having been one his whole life and attending Catholic school growing up, he knew more about his faith than I did in some respects, but in other respects, I did.  What I did know for sure was that he did not know his faith well enough.  There were big holes in his catechesis growing up.  I certainly had big deficits (and still do), but I was learning and loving it.  I saw him just wanting to attend mass minimally and not wanting to grow in his faith.  I began praying for him that one day his eyes would be opened to the treasure that is inside Christ's Church.  I knew that once he saw it, there would be no turning back.

Fast forward to the time when I was pregnant with my third son.  The last time I wrote about my journey, this is where I left off.  I had become pregnant with him after my second miscarriage.  This baby boy was a gift and every time I thought of the baby while he was in my womb, I heard the name John Paul.  Man, did I fight that one.  I tried to think of every other boy's name, but I kept hearing the name John Paul.  I fought this name because it sounded too "Catholic" to me.  What would people think?  They're going to think we're some weird "Pope worshippers"!  God was still leading us.

I don't remember exactly when but sometime in that pregnancy, my husband began reading vigorously about his faith mostly to defend it to a Protestant co-worker.  He never knew how to properly defend the Catholic faith, so he decided to try to learn as much as he could. So he and I began this journey of trying to learn more together.  We shared information, discussed it, and continued to be amazed at all we were discovering...all that had been in the Church for two thousand years...all that's still there that so many Catholics don't even know exists.  Well, my prayers were finally being answered.  I had a husband who was turned on to his faith.  We were both on fire with the Spirit!

We talked about one day him being able to go to Franciscan University to one of their men's retreats, as we had heard they were amazing.  He was attending a men's bible study at our church and they had even discussed sending a few guys up there for a retreat sometime in the future.  Well, our third son (John Paul, of course) was born in April of 2009 and I decided to send my husband to a Franciscan University retreat that was coming up in June as a Father's Day present.  I told him early of my present so we could buy his plane ticket.  He, of course, turned me down because he said he couldn't imagine leaving me alone for the weekend with two boys and a six week old newborn.  I told him I'd be okay and I wanted him to go.  He said no.

His Men's bible study decided to send a small group of men to the conference - one of our deacons and two men who lead the group.  My husband was so happy that at least someone from our parish would get to go and be involved with this incredible retreat.  At the last minute, one of the men could not attend and asked if my husband would take his place.  It was like God was saying, "You know, I tried to reach you through your wife, but you declined.  I had to pull out all the stops."  This retreat was handed to him and I told him it was meant to be, that he should go, and that we would manage without him.

He went.  It was life altering for him.  And he met a former professional football player who would help him and the men from our parish enliven the spirit within the men of our Archdiocese.  My husband's faith was alive - something I had prayed for years ago - and it was changing the course of our marriage...all for the better.

I will write more in my next blog.  :)

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Happy Belated Mother's Day

My grandmother holding her second child...my mother
1945,  New Mexico

I meant to write this posting before Mother's Day, but wouldn't you know it...I was busy.  I am feeling very compelled to write this though, so I am wishing a very belated Happy Mother's Day to all my readers who are moms, mamas, mommies, meemaws, and mothers.


My maternal grandmother gave birth to her firstborn child - a son - in the early 1940's.  He was born with spina bifida and passed away after only a few months.  She often spoke of her son, Ronnie, and every time her eyes would well up with tears.  When I was a teen, I used to wonder why she still lamented a baby she had lost so many years ago.  Don't get me wrong; I wasn't callous, just was lost in my own teenage angst and self absorption.  After I married and gave birth to my first son, I didn't wonder anymore.  I knew the love a mother has for her child.  It must be the strongest form of love on earth.  We would die for our children.  "Take me, not my child," we would say.

Throughout the ages, women have lost children whether in the womb or days, months, or years after birth.  It is a pain that lasts with the mother for life.  People, of course, can instantly sympathize with someone who has lost a child after it's been born.  Many women have lost babies before they were born and feel the same pain.  Miscarriage is a topic that is not often talked about and I'm not sure why.  It is so common, however, that I don't know many moms who haven't suffered at least one miscarriage.

I dedicate this Mother's Day to all women who have carried a baby in their wombs, even for mere days.  A mother instantly feels protective of her baby, and she loves it unconditionally.  Each of our babies takes a piece of our hearts from the moment of conception.  Women must not let anyone tell them their babies are only a clump of cells - a term which actually nauseates me.  Our babies are our babies - no matter how old or how long we knew them.  If you have lost a baby from a miscarriage know that they are waiting for you in heaven.  They are your angels, and they can't wait for you to hold them.

My grandmother loved me unconditionally and taught me many things about being a mother.  One month before she passed away, she brought up her firstborn son - her only son - once again.  She had tears in her eyes and she said, "I can't wait to see Ronnie again...and my mama and daddy."  She began crying - my grandmother of seventy-seven years.  She had been waiting all that time to see her baby boy again.  Our babies are our babies.  Motherhood is a gift.