Silent Night

     It is already getting dark here--I sat alone in the rain and just let it pour.  I felt the poverty of spirit all around me.  We have no lights, no decorations, a sorry excuse for a tree.  We have few presents, late Christmas cards, and lots of sorrow.
     But as I sat in the rain, I felt relief.
     What is tonight about?  What are we celebrating?
     We are celebrating a God who comes in the darkness.
     We are celebrating a God who comes into poverty of body and spirit.
     We are celebrating a God who comes in the midst of sin--the sin of emperors, governors, business folk, friends, and family.
     We are celebrating a God who comes--humble, defenseless, poor, meek, and innocent.
     He comes to us, only then to be poorly understood, falsely accused, and put to death.  His life seemed like a failure.  His relationships mostly failed.  His mission, by all appearances, failed.  Then he was put to death by his enemies--they seemed to have the final word.
     Tonight is about saying "Yes" to this God, this God who became Man, who became vulnerable and weak and poor.
     It is about saying "Yes" to this God who knows how to be alone, to be abandoned, to be treated unjustly.
     It is about finding one's life, one's hope, one's friendship, one's consolation, one's joy in this God-Man.
     It is about this God-Man being enough.  He is enough for a person's happiness.  He is enough to repair one's heart, to heal one's heart, to fill one's heart.
     A good life is not outward success.  It is not money.  It is not having a glowing ego that the world adores.  It is not about the expression of our talents.  It is not about having the perfect family and friends.
     A good life is a life given over and made afresh by this God-Man, Jesus.
     A good life is a having a heart born anew like the babe we celebrate tonight.
     I look forward to "Christ's Mass" (Christmas) tonight--offered in the lonely darkness.
     May He come, may I see Him afresh, may I see who He is in richer, more profound, less distorted way.  May He be born in my heart again tonight, and may His Spirit SHINE with JOY.  Joy, yes, to the WORLD.  

Who is Jesus?

     If someone were unaware of who Jesus is, how would you explain him?  Worse yet, if someone falsely believed that Jesus is an insipid, unimpressive figure, the opium of the people, the crutch of the weak, or still worse, the god of a religion that is foreign and simply cannot belong to them--what would you say?
     My response would be: come to him first, find his love.  Let him lavish you with his affection.  Let him supply all your needs, pour his peace into your heart, fill you with divine joy, no matter your outward circumstances.  His love is an infinite love, his peace is a perfect peace, his joy is constant, regardless of outward pains.  Call his name, let him dwell with you.  Later, you can learn more about who he is.
     But how do you let him dwell with you?  I have known some who say that they cry out for him, and cannot find him.  I believe that the way to find him is to surrender to him.  It takes at least one, real, genuine act of humility--the act of saying, "I no longer want to be in charge of my life, I want you to be in charge of my life."  People cry out to him, but still wanting to maintain control.  Essentially, they are asking for "a butler" or "a service care provider."  They want their needs met, but do not want to yield control to him, they do not want to have to change their ways or give up their lifestyle.
     Finding Jesus is about surrendering our tiny, fleeting, passing lives to the infinite, eternal, almighty God who humbled himself by coming to be with us.  When he came to be with us, he did not come in might, prominence or wealth.  He showed his true character when he chose to come as a poor, simple man, born in poverty and as a foreigner.  He disclosed his true heart when he washed the feet of his followers.  He revealed his true strength when, letting himself be betrayed, he gave thanks.  When falsely accused, he remained silent.  When brought to an unjust death, he surrendered himself out of love.  These actions are the height of human achievement, and take godlike strength.  What leader acts like a servant?  Who can submit to an unfair accusation?  Or worse yet, give up one's life out of love for others?   Given who Jesus was--the king of the universe, without any fault or wrongdoing, the author of life--these actions were all the more outrageous, all the more absurd.  In doing these things, Jesus revealed the infinite power of the love of God.
    This is a man who was, indeed, "obsessed with love."  His death means that we are free, we are reedy to be healed, we are ready to be heirs of the majesty of God.
     "Sing joyfully, O Israel!  Be glad and exult with all your heart, O daughter of Jerusalem!  The Lord has removed the judgment against you, he has turned away your enemies;  the King of Israel, the Lord, is in your midst, you have no further misfortune to fear.  The Lord, your God, is in your midst, a mighty savior; He will rejoice over you with gladness, and renew you in his love, he will sing joyfully because of you," (Zeph. 3:14-18).
     Jesus is the one who is ready to renew you.  He is ready to fill you with joy--one of the marks of true Christians.  To find him, one need only say: "Jesus, come to me.  I need you.  I have done wrong, I have hurt others and myself.  I need you to be in charge of my life--I surrender my life to you.  Live in me, dwell in me, and I desire to dwell in you."  Then Jesus comes, the perfect spouse: he comes to reside in you, and you reside in him.  It is a perfect communion, an intermingling of the spirit that is infinitely satisfying, powerful, and stable.  As life brings circumstances that are challenging, painful or frightening, we can say with Paul: "I am content in all circumstances."

obsession

     Some people are obsessed with money.  All their decisions seem to revolve around it.  Loved ones need to take a back seat and receive what is left after the person has given the lion's share of their efforts to financial gains.
    Some people are obsessed with the actualization of their talents.  Loved ones, again, must get comfortable in their back seat position.
    Some people are obsessed with the contribution to society that they are trying to make--yes, there is a gift to others, but there is also an ego component to this lifestyle.  The gift they are able to give reflects back who they are, and many such people define themselves by this outward expression.  How sad, that someone would be held hostage to what this outward expression looks like.  If it is not as big as they have dreamt, somehow, their self-worth is diminished.  Being obsessed with one's contribution to society is a risky business.
    As for me, I hope that when I die, people will say that I was obsessed with love.  Or maybe with generosity, or humility, or compassion.  I am not sure whether I am yet, or how to get that way, but that is my hope.  That is my life's goal.

Living Life on the Edge

     As much as it seems like I living a traditional, safe, conservative life, I really feel like I am living life on the edge.
     Being married to Ron--I staked my whole future on one reading of a newspaper, realizing that I wanted to enjoy the events listed therein with him (we had been on 2 dates) rather than a boyfriend of many years!
     Giving up so many opportunities of personal fulfillment or ambition or creativity, instead giving my best to the emotional, spiritual, educational and psychological development of my kids--and betting that this choice IS the path of greater fulfillment and ambition!
     Living in a humble house in a humble town--and betting that it is the best way to have a great home!
     Of all the courses I could teach, books I could write, the public person I could be and accomplishments that I might be able to achieve--I believe that giving all my creativity to mercy and love of real people is the greatest "creative achievement" I could pursue.  But who knows!  It takes faith, as there is no proof that this is the best way!

     Everything about my life feels like a radical experiment.  I know I look boring, uneventful, and the least daring that a life could be.  But nothing could be farther from the truth.  I am living life on the edge.

Grieving

    Grieving is hard to do.  The hardest thing is not to get side tracked and get upset about other things.  All that upset is easily diverted to other issues--it almost seems that it wants a distraction.  But I've tried to keep my eye on the real loss, the loss of my dad.
     Many, many incoherent and seemingly random thoughts have flowed through my mind.  Then, I'll start crying about the strangest among them.
     The two most helpful things have been being able to pray--I go to Adoration or pray silently in my room--and talking with Ron.  God has been so consoling and powerfully healing; and Ron is amazingly wise, clearheaded and understanding.  Talking through these seemingly random thoughts (and raw emotions) with God and then with the person who has pledge to be "as Christ" to me has helped me break through the negativity and find so many positive ways to interpret, reprocess and analyze the way things are left, now that he's died.
     The shocking thing to me is that I keep seeing the ugly, fallen, wayward, miserable parts of his life--and then seeing his love for me, Kim and Melia.  The love for us shines through so purely, so unmarred.  But it is shining through all sorts of grit and grime.
     My best example of this is the last picture Melia took of him.  He was obese, pale, and miserable.  He was so sick looking, that it is not surprising to me that this is the last picture of him ever taken--he looked like death.  But he was down on two knees, stretching his arms out, professing his undying love for her.  She photographed the moment, and it was a little joke between them that she shared with me the weekend of the funeral.
     This is my dad in a nutshell--his love peeking out through the clouds of darkness.
     As St. John of the Cross says, "In the eve of life, we will be judged on love."  If I were my Dad's advocate before Christ the judge, I would bring this photo.  What an amazing testament to the real Randall A. Kreiling.

The Death of my Dad

     Anyone could see that his death coming, because his health was so bad and his emotional state declining so rapidly in the past year.  It was hard to start letting go of him well before he actually died, but I saw that it was his choice to shield me from his deterioration, and so I accepted that and considered it a gift he was trying to give me.  While he died of a sudden heart attack, there was nothing out of the blue about it.
     I have much gratitude for the ways I see God giving me treasures at every turn.  I am grateful that Dad's death was as dignified as it was; I am grateful that we buried him in the manner and location that he desired; I am grateful that all his children and all his grandchildren were present (no small feat!); I am grateful that his ex-wives were all there (a tremendous display of love and forgiveness).  I am grateful that obstacles I could sense coming were dissolved, and personal conflicts averted.  I am grateful that the funeral service was more loving, faithful and capturing his life more than I could have anticipated.  I am grateful, most of all, for the bedrock of love that I feel from him.  Despite his failures, his love for me and my sisters is unsurpassed, and this love is part of the strength that I carry with me everyday.
     The trial I now face, however, is that he died, not right with God.  While I have hope that God will be merciful upon him, remember Dad's past love for God and forgive Dad's abandoning the way of this love, I sense poignantly how much mercy this would take, and how awful it is to die out of favor with God.  Death is so stark and real and miserable.  How tragic to die, or for your loved ones to die, at best gone forever, at worst, living in eternal torture.  (How fascinating that other people think they can just imagine what they wish happens after death, and think that will then in fact happen!  Who is in charge of death?  Not us!)  I understand the struggles of faith--humility is hard; obedience is hard; I know these struggles.  But it seems better to me to live as a Christian and struggle as a Christian with the issues that beset you, than to leave the family of God, and think you have somehow found higher ground.  That higher ground will dissolve under your feet the day that death comes.
     What I wish for everyone whom I love--and I desperately wish this--is that they would get right with God.  I wish that they would pray: "Jesus, I give my life to you.  I want to be a child of God.  I put my heart and life into your hands: I want intimacy with you."  Then, get a Bible and a Christian who has a real, vital relationship with God.  Follow what the Bible and the Christian in what they say, as you begin your new life.  You will be transformed from the inside out, and be given a fresh, vibrant spirit.  Your sins will dissolve; they will be thrown "as far as the east is from the west."  Truly, being reborn in God is the only way to get out of their grip!  As you begin your transformed life, you will find a peace, joy and contentment for which every human heart yearns.
   

Flowers from Mom

     Flowers from Mom are not an unusual event.  But these are!

 
     These are not cut flowers--it is a rose bush from my favorite local nursery!  I am SO EXCITED!!  I was in tears, standing on my front door step.  The poor delivery guy wasn't sure how to handle it! :)  Now I get to throw on my gardening duds and dig in the dirt!  Hooray!!!!
     The card said, "May these roses always remind you of my love."  I can assure you, they will!!!  :)

Full and Festive

     An odd family, I know.  We are strange!  Jake is about to write a report on a day in the life of his family, and we laughed about how fun it will be to write that, since we are just so darn strange compared to most families!  Things like, "While my sister Clare is regularly seem swinging from the chandeliers, she is also the most polite kid in the entire church every Sunday."
     Halloween is no exception.  It epitomizes just how counter-cultural we are!  That said, the culture is so impoverished, who'd want to be in the middle of THAT culture??
     "Halloween" is short and adapted for "All Hallows Eve."  "All Hallows" means "All Saints," ultimately meaning "The Eve before All Saints Day."
     Years ago in Ireland, a custom began: children would dress up in silly or scary costumes to scare the evil spirits away, in order to make the world pure for the next day's sacred celebration.  Treats were given out to clear away mean spirits, as though the sweets were an antidote to evil.  So the custom of dressing up on the evening before All Saints Day (always Nov. 1) and passing out treats derives from this Irish custom.  The deterioration of this custom into an evening for evil per se is an absolute disordering of the original purpose: it was meant to be a night to cleanse the world of evil, not invite evil in.
     In our family, when Halloween approaches, our kids start deliberating: "What SAINT shall I be this year?"  We have All Saints parties (thank you, Louisiana Friends, for introducing me to this wonderful custom!).  The main focus in our home, as it used to be centuries ago, is the celebration of All Saints Day.  This, more than sweets, is an effective antidote to all the evil that our culture flirts with on this evening.  This year, our kids were St. Veronica, St. Elizabeth Ann Seton, St. Elizabeth of Hungary, and St. Padre Pio.

Our Sacred Heart Homeschooling Group had a big party with games based on religious themes, and it was the high point of my Fall.
     But then our family also trick or treats.  They dress up as fairies and knights and the like, collect candy, and just have fun.    This year they were a lilac fairy, a Muskateer, a "Girl-with-Face-Paint-in-a NON-ITCHY-Costume" (Hello, Sensory Processing Disorder!) and a Frost Fairy.

     Now that All Saints Day has passed, our kids' minds and hearts are full of stories from Sacred Scripture, stories of people who enjoyed unspeakable raptures of joy in God as well as suffered untold amounts of pain for the sake of the Cross, and whose bellies are fully of candy.
    (No wonder we now have the stomach flu!  Padre Pio, Elizabeth of Hungary, Veronica, and Elizabeth Ann Seton, pray for us!)  :)

winning goal!

     Jake made the winning goal in his soccer game today, as well as the goal before that.  The Falcons were down one, and Jake tied us up, and then scored again, just at the closing whistle.  The team practically had him up on their shoulders, carrying him off the field!
     One of the really competitive moms approached me and said, "Wow!  The winning goal!  You must be so proud!  It's amazing to see Jake transform right before our eyes--think of where he was a year ago!"  I have no pride--it is true that Jake was the worst player on the team for most of the three years we have been here.  His first year, he tribbled the ball the wrong direction as often as he took it the correct direction, occasionally making a score for the other team.  As his private coach, my first training session for him was to identify the jerseys of the goalies so as to decide which direction to take the ball.  Today, by contrast, I was giving him instructions about scouting out a teammate before he passes, and where to stand relative to the goal if a teammate is throwing the ball onto the field so that Jake can score a goal.  Jake is now one of the highest scoring members of his team.  True, he is a year older and a foot taller than all of his teammates, but at least he is not that AND still struggling to keep up with the level of his teammates (which he was at the beginning of this season).
     After the game, he was in the ecstatic state of glory, reveling in it all.  I said, "Jake, you not only made the last two goals, but you passed the ball to the guy who scored the previous goal.  So really, you participated in all three of your team's goals!"
     He swiftly replied, "Yeah, and the other team scored their first goal when I was goalie.  So in fact, I participated in almost every goal in the entire game!!"
     We laughed and laughed together.  I LOVE that kid.
     

being a fish

     Recently, I heard someone say, "I am more like a jellyfish than a fish.  Jellyfish are carried by the current, whereas fish are more deliberate and decisive.  Jellyfish probably think they have more control than they really do, but in fact, they are swept along most of the time."
     The comment shocked me.  I cannot express just how much of a fish I am.  I am so much of a fish, there is almost not one minute of a single day that is an exception to this rule.
     The way that this is true for me is by the direction of God.  I do not feel that I am controlling everything about my day and my life--very little is my design.  But I feel that God has desires for me.  I am constantly reflecting on how God wants me to interact with others, how He wants me to be as I wash the dishes or pay the bills or teach someone their multiplication table.  Am I being present to the other person?  Do I seem distracted to them?  Am I being grateful, or fearful, or joyful, or listless?  If I am being fearful or anxious or angry, how would God like to be transform that into hope, or trust, or forgiveness?
    There is a fishlike quality about the moment to moment aspect of my day, and also about the big picture of my life.  What does God want me to hold as the primary goal?  What should I be ambitious about?  A huge upheaval took place in my twenties and again in my mid-thirties as I gave up certain ambitions and adopted other ones that I believe God wanted me to.
     Again, being a fish for me is not being controlling.  It is the opposite.  I am responding to God who is in charge of my life.  I feel very subservient, very small, very little.  But the providence of God is not to be taken lightly.  It is a very powerful force of Love that takes us out of ourselves and to a higher ground than we could have found of our own volition.
     

year of respect

     I had a very special person in mind when I chose this year to be a year to work on respect--a woman in my community whom I dealt with in a way that disappointed me.  I thought, "I should be able to respect all people, even if I do not have a natural affection for them."
     As I have a spiritual goal for each year, this was my year, then, for respect.  And so I have prayed for growth in this area and watched my failures as well as successes.
     By the grace of God, I have just turned a major corner!  I am so grateful--through NO effort on my own, but entirely by the workings of Providence, I was able to establish not only a friendship but a genuine liking for this person.  I am amazed--it is as though God has used this circumstance to reveal to me how malleable and changeable human affections are, and how His power is so sublime over all things human.  I feel like a small child in His perfect care, and I trust Him so fully to make us whom He wants us to be.  To Him, really, is ALL the glory.

Patricia and St. Ignatius

     How I love St. Ignatius of Antioch!  An early bishop who was martyred.  On his way in chains from Antioch to Rome where he was to be thrown to the lions, he wrote letters that are so full of faith, they changed the course of Christianity.
     One beautiful line, typical of his writings: "I am God's wheat and shall be ground by the teeth of wild beats so that I may become Christ's pure bread."
    This is very much in keeping of how my dear friend Patricia talks all the time.  She has taught me how to see life's hardships as directly linked to some aspect of Jesus's life.  She has a gift at finding some concrete image that links the event in her life with something pertaining to Christ.
     Who knew that Patricia and St. Ignatius were such close kinsfolk!
     Patricia, in my opinion, is as well equipped to change the course of Christianity.  A true saint!

when you're anxious

     My spiritual director is a new blessing in my life, put there very specifically by God!  It is a complete miracle that I wound up with such an arrangement, since I was not asking for one, and he did not search me out.  It just happened very quickly through a friend that I wound up with the most sought out spiritual director in the region.  
     I have been suffering a spiritual battle for about a year, just tortured by a very specific anxiety.  I am not generally anxious, and am grateful for the peace I have received in my Christian life over the decades.  But there was a very specific anxiety that I have been wrestling with that has been a tremendous burden.  I have prayed, fasted, sat in Adoration, read books, memorized Scripture verses--you name it.  But this little torture would not go away.  I knew God wanted something for me, since He was not alleviating it.  So I asked for patience and clarity, so that I would be ready for His response, which I knew would be a gift of Love when the time was right.
    Sure enough, it happened.  While I was driving to meet my new spiritual director for our second visit, I nearly missed being in a car accident, then I got lost, and on top of that, the monastery's server was down so that I could not find them on my phone.  There was tremendous resistance to me getting to that humble little room in the monastery!
     Once I was there, I prayerfully listened and wrote down many notes from my director's comments.  Then the moment came.  I asked him, "So what should I do when I am going about my business, doing the dishes or reading to a child, and I get gripped with this specific anxiety?"
     I already knew many good answers to this question from the Bible and other spiritual writings: pray for peace; be joyful in all things; surrender to God's will.  Isaiah 26:3; Proverbs 3:4-5; 1 Peter 5:7; 1 Thes. 5:16-18.
    But Father paused, then looked at me and replied: "Seek greater humility and openness."
    This was an answer tailor made for me!  Relinquishing my plan, my idea of what is good, holy or right, and searching further for God's is exactly what I needed to hear.  I had been operating with some humility and with some openness to God's plan.  So I did not think I was without it--hence the problem!   But when Father said these words, it was as though shackles fell from my whole being.  A deeper level of humility and openness!  I felt light and free.
    In the past 2 weeks of working on this new way, I have found the freedom of being more of a little child.  I am clearly being called to a greater childlikeness, and a greater trust in His plan.  There is a people-pleasing habit in me that is directly contrary to this way.  Pleasing others, and not having peace unless I am pleasing them, is against the will of God.  I should be pleasing Him, even if it displeases them.  To accomplish this sort of lifestyle requires much prayer.  Much more, really, than I was engaged in.  Personal, quiet prayer, I mean.  It requires listening, trusting, following, and the coming back to God to check in and hear if He has anything else.  It is a monastic life, really, the life to which I feel I am most genuinely called.  
   

    
 

recovery

     Annie is now sleeping--thank you, Lord!  She is sweet and delightful instead of constantly irritated--thank you, Lord!  I have slept so hard these past nights that I am more like a walking zombie most days, and then I crash back to sleep.
     Boy, is Annie cute.  She says, "This! This!"  And she says, "Mama!  Daddy!  Baby!" and "Hot?"  She shakes her head "No," and nods her head "Yes," and she can imitate most short words: colors, parts of the body, etc.  She can also point to most parts of her body.  She loves to dance, and her favorite is the Laurie Berkner Band.  She loves time outside, and is a mega-explorer: bugs, rocks, water, leaves--you name it.
     Two weeks of Annie being well, I began getting tired of being tired!  I felt the need to be rebounding.  I had been exercising pretty hard, but feeling horrible.  So in a hasty moment, I decided to do a juice fast.  I was shooting for just 2 days.  But it went so well that I did another, and decided to shoot for 10.  So here I go!  I'm on day 4 and feeling great!  14 is my absolute ideal, but I am not resting at a Martha's Vineyard retreat.  I am homeschooling and caring for 5 little children.  So we'll see what I can do!
    I wonder if it shouldn't be standard practice to do a fast after having a baby and nursing.  The body needs to reboot and revitalize.  Some cultures do this customarily.  I think there is much wisdom to that!

A cure for Annie!

     Last night, my dear friends heard yet another comment about my debilitating fatigue resulting from Annie's sleepless nights.  They all chimed in, "She probably has an ear infection!  Take her in!"  It never would have occurred to me, since Annie has no fever and her symptoms are explicable by her teething.  But after being up literally half the night, I called the doctor this morning and we went right in.  A sweet homeschooling teenager down the street even came over to watch the other four, so it was just me and Annie.
     The doctor could not find anything wrong: no ear infection, no fever, not even a runny nose!  She was acting all sweet and cuddly.  It was looking like a worthless trip!
     Then I suggested strep.  The doctor said that was the last resort, but that Annie's throat was not especially red or infected by appearance.  But she did the culture anyway.
    Positive!  Annie has strep!!  I was elated.
    But I hate antibiotics: I could already envision all the sicknesses down the pike, after I decimate Annie's immune system--just in time for cold and flu season!
   I went straight to the health food store.  Our guy there set me up with colloidal silver plus acidophilus.  He even showed me magnesium gel to put on kids' feet before bed to help them get a good night's rest!!

Sleep might be around the corner, for Ron, Annie and me!

strategy of patience

     Mom and Harville gave Jake a movie for his birthday, PAUL VI.  I watched it twice.  It is the best movie I have seen in a long time.
     One of the best lines is in a conversation in which the young Karol Wojtyla approaches the current pope, Paul VI.  They are at the second Vatican Council.  Karol asks, "I would like any advise you have for me; I am dealing with the communists in Poland.  You have dealt with both communists and facists.  What should I do?"  Paul VI replies, "The best advise I have to offer is: the best strategy is the strategy of patience.  And never be afraid to dialogue--no matter what."
     That was so encouraging to me to hear.  Patience through a trial, with ample doses of dialogue (even if the issue is still unresolved, even if the problem is not totally repaired), is sometimes the highest path.
     In my immaturity, I see in myself that I want what I want when I want it.  The mature version of that is PATIENCE!

Gentle Giants

     Ron went to Houston this weekend to be with his Mom in the hospital.  Our kids were terribly disappointed to not be able to go see their grandparents and great grandparents near Houston.  So even though I was solo, I arranged for play dates on Fri. evening and all day Saturday (after soccer games, that is).
     On Sat. afternoon, there were eight children here, plus Annie.  These children were a sight to behold: two boys Jake's age rough housed and romped around with Jake.  Yet they were so thoughtful and kind--it was like having gentle giants tumbling in our rec room.  Five girls played without one tear, one complaint--everyone cooperated, used kind voices, shared and took turns.  Mary knew not to overtake Clare's time with Clare's friend (a miracle in itself!), and occasionally played with the boys.  It was truly, truly like watching eight little angels frolic about the house.
     And then there was ANNIE!  Tougher on me than all 8 older children combined! :)  

A Carmelite Nun Day

     I had a day that was like being a Carmelite nun!  Poverty, self-denial, and bliss.  The wreck of a day was drenched in the Spirit of God.
     Annie is a complete catastrophe.  She is teething: drooling like a faucet, fever, runny nose, cranky.  She wants you to put her down.  Then she screams when you put her down and acts like you have abandoned her to the netherworld.  She demands to be picked back up.  She arches her back and screams at the top of her lungs if you sit down next to another child to check their handwriting or their spelling lesson.  She is truly, truly a piece of work--up all night, and then hell all day.  This has been going on for three weeks.  I could not imagine a child being so hard if I just imagined having a child.  It would be like a farce, like an exaggerated comedy that was a spoof on parenthood.  The spoof is on me!
     So this morning I woke up and prayed with all my might that this day was entirely His, and I would just do anything so long as He stayed beside me.  I prayed this out loud, in bed with four girls draped around the bed--I prayed like I was about to be sent to the guillotine.  The girls looked with peaked attention.  
     After a few hours of a torturous morning that was strangely peaceful given the circumstances, it was time for Annie's nap.
     Instead of one and a half hours, she slept for 35 minutes.  I almost wept.  But I trusted in God.
     I brought her downstairs, and discovered that she was in the best of moods.  She was laughing, giggling, totally adorable.  So I canceled school for a couple of hours, and we just enjoyed her.
     The a pool fence lady came over to give us a bid.  She was shocked and amazed at the shoes lined up, the polite children. . . we were like Martians to her.  She finally left.  I went to put Annie back down for another nap.  Annie woke up less than an hour later.
    Although every moment was my worst case scenario, it was never really bad.  The worse events happened, but God kept all our spirits high.  We  got all the school done, mopped and vacuumed the floors, did laundry, cleaned the splattered mess in the bathroom from Clare's bloody nose last night, made a meal for a family that just had a baby and still had food for ourselves to eat.  By the time the day was done, Annie was playing with everyone like it was Christmas morning.  She was a little disruptive during prayers, but goodness, she IS a little prayer.
     I had no control of the day.  I have no idea what school work was done.  I have not done ten things I was supposed to do.  I yielded to the torture, and grace came back to bless me.  It truly is a mystery how the Spirit of God teaches us trust.
    I pray to God with all my heart that Annie sleeps tonight and that the teething ends soon!

Sacred Heart P.E.

I love P.E.!  So fun to see so many moms and so many children!

excising people out of your life

A hard subject--These are my thoughts, for what they are worth.  Read at your own risk! 

     If there is one thing I have learned in my imperfect search for what is most true, it is that you cannot excise people out of your life.  While some relationships come to a natural end (such as friends who graduate from high school and do not keep in touch), it is never possible to kill a relationship.  If you try, it haunts you--in eliminating one problem, you have invited another which tends to be much worse.       

     If you have the most rotten person in the world as your parent or sibling, you have to learn how to make peace with that fact.  You have to learn how to be their prayer advocate before God, or find some constructive role to play in their life, even if you do not speak with that person. 

     How does a parent feel when an adult child tries to cut him out of his life?  It seems objectively wrong, something against nature.  

     Now, to make a hard subject even harder. . .  

     It is the very same logic behind eliminating pregnancies.  Just as a parent does not want a child to cut him out of his life, so too a child should not be excised out of a parent's life.  Once there is a little life attached to a mother, it is against nature to eliminate it, no matter how upset the person is to be pregnant.  

     There are many young girls and women who do not want their child-in-utero.  But there are many adults who do not want their parents.  They want to get them out of their life.  Adults should not get parents out of their lives; they should find something responsible and constructive to do with their relationship.  Likewise, a woman or girl with an unwanted pregnancy should not eliminate the pregnancy.  She should find something responsible to do with that relationship.  

     Many people, from popes to hippies to new age gurus, talk about a civilization of love and peace on earth.  

     This will never happen until people learn to make peace with and find genuine solutions for problematic children and parents and siblings and bosses and institutions and nations.  We cannot attack them, kill them or eliminate them.  It brings about more problems than solutions.  Divorce is not a real solution to a problematic marriage.  Terrorism is not a real solution to a problematic government.  Abortion is not a real solution to an unwanted pregnancy.  

     Oh, how I do long for a civilization of love!

     

     Again, sorry it's such a heavy topic!  But it's important!  I have a long way to go to get to the bottom of it, but this is my inchoate thought for now!  

       

PRESTO PESTO!

Look at all that basil!  We have mountains and mountains of it.

Now that's A LOT of pesto sauce!
We also have watermelons growing.  I can't believe it!  Watermelons!

     We even have a cantaloupe that is growing by accident--it is on a vine that has sprouted out of our compost bin.
     Lesson I get from my cantaloupe: if you are thoughtful about what was originally trash, it can become fruitful! :)

spelling

     Jake is such a good student.  But he has a problem, on the level of a clinical disability, with spelling.
     I gave him a spelling test.  20 words from the level lower than his other schoolwork.  10 words learned, then 10 more, then a test.
     He got 3 words wrong--about 80%-ish, then, correct.  So in a cheerful voice I said, "Time to learn those 3 words--the FUN WAY!"  I took out paints and a paintbrush, and we went over to the easel.  I had him write the correct spelling with a Sharpie, and then paint it all down the page.

   On the second word, he spelled it at the top, and then was painting down the page, and I turned to help Clare with her assignment.  Moments later, I looked back at Jake: the word was painted WRONG all the way down the page!  As wrong as it was on the test.
     I lay prostrate on the floor and prayed!  Poor guy.  I got up, went to talk with him, and we laughed and tried again.  I told the girls to come over, and that the rest of the day, we were all going to learn how to spell "believe."  We sang it, we chanted it, we wrote it in 10 different ways on several different surfaces with several different media.  I have a strong hunch that Leigh can spell it, but that Jake still cannot.
     I love that little guy.  He is SO GOOD at so many things.  He is an amazing writer--fiction.  He amazing at theology.  He is outstanding at history and excellent at math.  But he cannot play soccer and other such sports, and he cannot spell.
     I will, of course, keep searching out every good technique out there for remedial spelling.  But in the meantime, it's all about loving him where he is, and not getting upset!  God loves each of us where we are, and is whispering mercy to us from that place.

Ole!

    Had a fun-filled evening with Ron, Mom and Dad at a mexican restaurant!

Celebrated Dad's 76th birthday!  My favorite thing about the evening--in addition to Mom standing up and singing harmony with the mariachi band--was that they knew all the words to "Down in El Paso."  That's pretty darn impressive--there are LOTS of verses!

favorite thing about today

     Today we celebrated Jake's birthday.  We had an action packed Labor Day weekend, complete with boating, sleepovers for the kids with grandparents, donuts, swimming, kneeboarding, and the like.
     But today, topping it all off, we had cake, gifts, a movie at home, and a swim in the pool.  I've never heard of a kid having cake and gifts IN a pool, but that is what we did.
     But my very favorite thing about today was Ron's comment when he got home.  He walked into the sun room and noticed--how nice of him to notice!--dozens of piles of clean and folded laundry, ready to be put away.  He exclaimed, "Katie!  My goodness!  You are amazing!!  Look at all the work you have done for us!  Laundry, a wonderful dinner already made; you've home schooled all the kids, straightened the house, and taken care of Annie through it all.  How lucky we all are to have you!!!"  It is small work, and not really a heroic amount of it.  I have done more in a day.  But that was what was so nice: he treated one of my normal day's work as something to celebrate.  I think that's how God sees a good day's work.  I LOVE my husband!!!!

preparing for death

     Today Ron spoke with his parents at great length about his Mom's wishes for her hospice care, her death and her funeral.  I was there for a small portion of the time.  I had discussed it with Ron at some length, but never had all four of us talked together so directly.
     Donna was the person who wanted to discuss it the most.  Ron did her a great favor by bringing it up with both of them in the same room, and taking it head on.
     My greatest hopes for her are coming true--that she would be at peace with God and her loved ones.
     My greatest concern for her now is that the practical issues are decided very soon, so as to mitigate the chance of family ruptures when she declines and passes away.  Tensions are always a possibility, but good organization and thoughtfulness in advance will be a good preventative measure.  While tensions are a possibility, so is growth and unity.
     Ron's heart is so pure, and so full of the holiest grief I have ever seen.  What a sacred time, walking through this with him.    

meeting the challenge

     There are some prayer intentions I pray for everyday.  One of them is a true impossibility: it feels like it would take a miracle.
     New subject: Annie has been SO HARD of late.  She screams and thrashes when I try to put her down for a nap; yesterday, she threw a temper tantrum that lasted over an hour--that is a LONG TIME.  Of course I did everything I knew to do, but sometimes, you just have to say, "This too shall pass."  You can't fix everything in the moment.
     Annie has be so hard that I have considered quitting homeschooling.  After the hour long temper tantrum yesterday during which I resolved to quit homeschooling, I arrived downstairs to an immaculate kitchen and four sweet children quietly tending to their assignments.  Oh my goodness!  Clearly, they are not the problem, and sending them to a different school would not fix my wild toddler.
     So I thought about it.  In an otherwise wonderful life, I have a temporary nightmare, which is a tantrum throwing toddler.  It is an isolated issue.  What do I do about that?
     Then it hit me: Annie is a perfect match for that prayer request!  Offering up the challenges that she presents to me consistently for this one intention--AHA!  I finally have power in my prayers because of the hardship with Annie.  As I offer up her behavior right now for this one intention, I can be "content in all things," as Paul says.  I am content in this short-lived hardship, since it has power in it for God's vision of things.  Not to mention the fact that Annie gets to be blessed by cooperating in the advancement of good in the world without even knowing it.  Surely, her soul will be blessed in a deep-seated way through the process.  God, grant me the ability to stay "content" and hopeful!
 

fartin' Martin

     We are hosting a weekly homeschool co-op.  A dozen 3rd and 4th graders are in our home every Thursday with 2 teachers.  I spend the day with Annie--it harkens back to having Baby Jake!  I love hosting the co-op.  It is SO GOOD for my kids.
     Well today, a little guy named Martin was there late 'cause his mom was late picking him up.  I put him to work with my kids, cleaning the room and taking down the tables and chairs.  
     While spraying down a table, he says to me, "My nickname is Fartin' Martin."  Looking at this thin, pious-looking ten year old, I thought my ears had deceived me.
    "What?"
     "They call me 'Fartin' Martin because farting is my hobby."

I have laughed about that all day long.  Sometimes little joys are so unexpected!  

sewing

I LOVE my sewing classes!

Love 'em, love 'em, love 'em!
I love quilting and the memory of my old quilting days.  Quilting is how I discerned that I did not have a vocation to be a nun.  I loved quilting and pie-baking so much, and it was on those two bases that I did not pursue a religious vocation!
    So to be surrounded by all these quilts as I open up my sewing machine and learn something new--it is to "know who I am."  That brings me happiness!!!

an impossible and great life

     My life is just impossible! We started homeschooling yesterday.  It is perfectly impossible to get everything done!  Parenting and formation (spiritual, psychological, emotional), 4 children's schoolwork with a wild and very loud toddler in tow; laundry, 3 meals and snacks, phone calls and emails, and (my least favorite) bills.  Oh my goodness!  I broke into tears at 4:30 when I was on my knees helping the kids straighten their arts and crafts shelf, and a loose and unruly stack of papers and books fell on my head at Mary's mishandling of them.
     We have started school a week early, so that we can experiment with the order of the day.  We are only doing 3 subjects per child.  We are figuring out chores, coming up with ideas for Annie, etc.  I built in time, so that when something goes wrong, instead of getting upset, I could think, "What do we need to do differently to make this work better?"  (But isn't that what all of life is about?  Building in that time, and replacing upset with wonder and problem solving!)
     I thought about replacing homeschooling with a local school.  There is a great local school called Mt. Saint Michael's, and all 4 older kids would fit in perfectly there.  I have been in discernment about that, praying about it and getting sort of excited that this might be my last year of homeschooling.  Ron has begun that prayerful discernment as well.  In moments when it all seems too much, I have that to consider.
    But 2 nights ago, Ron said to me, "Katie, I want to know how you are doing in your discernment.  But as for me, I am so amazed at what they get here that they would not get at Mt. Saint Michael's.  They are not just going through workbooks--they LOVE their work because of how you talk with them.  They are not just reading for school; they LOVE novels and read for pleasure.  They could get a good education at Mt. Saint Michael's. But they are not likely to get--that something extra that is hard to explain.  You are truly making them great.  Their ability to solve a problem, their inquiry into great ideas, their love of the poor--even just seeing Clare do the dishes on her little stool at the sink without being asked--these are remarkable children, and your impossible life is making that happen."
     This conversation happened after the kids were in bed.  That night, the 4 older children and I had had a long discussion about books, and the importance of reading.  Mary wound up compiling a stack of books to read, while Leigh and Clare whipped out their little readers and hammered through one after the other with all their might.  My brain was swimming with every positive chemical the human body affords, as I delighted in this miracle scene.
    Who knows where my discernment will be at the end of the year.  But for now, I'm offering the hardship of each day for the best intentions I have: the spiritual happiness of my friends and family, and for those most in need of mercy.

Plato's Philosophy of Art

     I just do not agree with Plato's philosophy of art.
     Plato says that, just as nature is a reflection of the Forms, art is a reflection of nature.  So art is twice removed from the Forms.
     To me, art is like a highway to what is transcendently real.  I agree with Plato that what is transcendent is more true than what is visible.  I agree that there are Forms--absolutely.  But art is like a wormhole to the Forms.  Art shows us what the world is like and who we are better than just looking around does.
    Good art does, that is.

the power of motherhood

     So I was just having a margarita with my friend, Amy, who is a mother of 5.  Her four year old boy has 3 older sisters.  My friend says to me, "Kathryn, my son is talking a lot about wanting to be a mother.  I think I need to talk to him about the importance of manhood.  I've got to help him see that being a boy is a good thing."
    Then she pauses and unsolicitedly offers her theory of why he is so desiring to be a mother: "I think he wants all the power.  He sees me and he assumes, 'If I am a mother, I'll have lots of power.'"
       Now that is a woman after my own heart!

Contemplating today. . .

. . . the mystery that a God who is completely unknowable to human beings chose to be known anyway.  And when He chose to be known, He did so:
1) in flesh
2) in darkness
3) in death
4) in being a servant

The best way of finding God, then, is through our weaknesses, deaths, and in becoming servants.  We must embrace the losses, the ruins, the failures, the humiliations, the disappointments, the sicknesses, the death!  We must find ways to become servants--more and more ways; new levels of servanthood.  We must go lower and lower.  It is not just a matter of becoming okay with our losses.  It is a matter of rejoicing in them.  They are the portals to heaven.
     It is as though our lives are one constant hitting against a brick wall.  We are trying to become important to the people that matter to us, we are trying to achieve success, we are trying to secure comfort and avoid pain.  But we are constantly falling short of these goals.  These goals are mirages, like lovely pictures painted on a wall.  We strive after them with all our might, and when we arrive, rather than entering the scene, we just bruise our noses on the bricks.  How do we find the escape tunnels through the wall?  When we find a disappointment or a loss, and seek the Cross there, when we really desire union with Christ Crucified and thus embrace the loss with all our might, we get through the brick wall, and find the hidden pathway to God.
     Ah!  That people could find this peace!  I wish I could bottle it up and give it to all the ones I know and love.  I wish I could give it to everyone.

bottom out

     This is the week that I bottomed out.  I have been supporting Ron, his work, his relationship with his family, his emotional well being and the general flourishing of his life.  It has been an intense effort and priority over these past several years, and especially this summer.
     This past week was the fifth week this summer that he was out of town.  When I brought him to the airport a week ago, I was already beyond what I could give.  The week has been me giving out of a deficit.  It has been like spending money on credit or like an engine running with no oil.  The sparks have been flying in my emotional life, and I have been expecting an explosion!
     I have managed to give the kids whatever morsels I had, and it makes me smile to think of their little gains:
     Leigh got a great haircut!

We've all been doing P90X together!  (check out Annie too!)

Mary and Jake and I stayed up till midnight one night--I think of it as their debut into pre-teen life.  We talked and laughed and had a ball--they thought it was historic (and it was!)

      But I am really, really tired.  I am depleted.  My brain hurts and I feel like I am going to burst into tears at any moment, all day long.
      Ron came home last night, and I am so glad I did not emotionally deregulate.  I told him the honest truth about where I am and what my needs are, but I did it in a constructive and loving way.  No guilt trips or accusations.
     He has been really, really tender and responsive.  He is listening well, giving me what I need in the moment as well as discussing what my needs are long term.
    I am overwhelmed with gratitude that I have been giving beyond what I have for a trustworthy man.  He is not taking for his own advantage--these trips have been to support our family and me in particular. My long term goals are things he can better meet if he makes these immediate career gains, and he is making that clear.
    There is that old story about how after we die, we all sit at a banqueting table together with very long utensils.  The people in hell are starving at the banquet, while the people in heaven are full.  The people in hell cannot get the food into their mouths--the utensils are too long.  But the people in heaven have learned to feed each other.  While no one can feed himself, if everyone feeds everyone else, each person will get fed and no one will go hungry.
    Ron and I are in a very intense time, learning how to give each other our all.  We both need the other one to be trustworthy, or the other one will have a nervous breakdown!
     This next period is a time for me to recover.  I am so raw and in such a deep deficit that it is going to take some real creativity!  


  

practicing and preaching

      Our whole family is on its way to Milwaulkee so that Ron and I can present A New Way to Love for Catholic Couples to the conference the Bishops have chosen to launch the marriage initiative of the USCCB.
     The astounding thing to me is that yesterday, Ron's only day home in a long time, we had a very hard day.  Lots of problems to iron out, and we were both quite upset with each other.
     But we spent several hours tenaciously clinging to the Dialogue process, and we never fought.  We just mirrored, validated and empathized over and over until we were through it.
     There was plenty to fight about, but we never fought.  We spoke kindly, and anything the kids heard was fine for them to hear, because there was nothing said that was not loving.
     To be on the other side of the problem, all back to a happy, unified place, as we pack our bags and ready ourselves for the flight--I am awestruck with the joy of practicing what we are preaching.  It is a cause of joy that Ron and I are reconciled, and another cause of more joy that our marriage is concordant with what we are about to say through the microphone!
   

A Watershed Week

     Ron is coming home today after 8 days away!
     I prayed fervently that the good of the week would outweigh the bad.  But I could not imagine how that could possibly come to pass!  Oh ye of little faith.
     This week has been one of the best of my life.  I have been "off the grid"--almost no phone or computer use, no TV or electronics.
     I spent the week looking into my children's eyes, having real conversations.  At first, they were so unused to real conversations that I had to work on it!  One child could only make one sentence, and then another one was interjecting his or her thoughts on the topic.  So I said, "Please leave the room for five minutes while I finish my conversation with so and so."  The other three would stand at the door and listen to every syllable.  But at least they were silent!  Interrupting, they learned, is not just in the middle of a sentence--it can be in the middle of a paragraph, too.
    So a couple of days later, these four children are standing more erect, smiling a little brighter, carrying the sense that their mother has heard them and understands what they are feeling and thinking.
    But that is just the beginning!
    Mary and Jacob learned to crochet!  Our homeschooling group hosted a crochet workshop.  Jake and Mary have taken off!

I walked up the staircase last night to put Annie down, and Mary and Jake's long limbs were draped over the arms of our armchairs, as they concentrated on their next stitch. How grown up they looked!  Twice and long and four times as capable as the little munchkins I still think they are!
     Clare and Leigh, Mary and Jake have all started latch hook projects.
     We have been reading Pollyanna aloud as well as William Blake poems (thanks for the Blake for Children book, Uncle Joe!).
     And thanks to Martha's feast day, all four children have been wearing aprons and whipping up salads, toasting and buttering bagels and Ezekiel bread, making bean and cheese nachos and mixing yogurt with different flavors.  Four cooks in the kitchen!

We have become a true Charlotte Mason family!  Hooray!

Martha's Feast Day

     Today we celebrated the feast of Martha of Bethany.  I got this idea from Treasure Chest of Traditions for Catholic Families by Monica McConkey. 

Since Martha is the patron of cooking, the book suggests that the non-cooks prepare a meal for the cooks in the family!  

So we started the day with telling/reading the 2 Bible stories of St. Martha and discussing them.  (My kids all picked up on her bold personality, and how she was always telling Jesus what he should be doing!  They liked her spunk).  We discussed how his greatest miracle of raising Lazarus from the dead was upon her faith: "Jesus, if you had been here, my brother would not have died."  Sheer faith!  But we also discussed how awesome it was in the cooking episode how she was corrected by Jesus, and learned.  She is a saint in part because she was teachable.  My kids (and I!) perked up at this idea of being able to be a saint even if you've been wrong. 

Then I told them that in honor of the patron of cooking, they get to cook me a meal!  "Prepare it, set the table, and I'll be your guest.  Then you get to clean it up." 

They were THRILLED.  They got out their aprons and have been cooking since 8 am!  They made Jello and salad and Ezekiel toast with toppings.  Water and napkins at every seat.  

It was the most delicious salad I have ever eaten.  I was crying as I was eating it.  It was so special!!  The kids were just delighted, and so proud. 

(But their clean up job left something to be desired. . . .!) 

A Socratic Faith

     To be a good Catholic, I have to be a good Platonist.
     The world around us, its messages, value system, and goals, are not really real.
     What is really real is beyond us, and only the Socratic fool is able to see and know.
     Reaffirming my faith means saying "Yes" to the apparently "foolish" and going into the deep.
     The deep is radical love, radical humility, radical cheerfulness, radical joy--fueled by an intense proximity to the Source of it all.

the stomach flu

a horrible, horrible thing!
And times 7...WOW!

Top 10 Favorites

My Top Ten Favorite Things from the Past Week:

10. That I cannot talk on the phone or get on my computer because Annie loves to suck on the phone and punch her dirty little hands into the keyboard, and scream her piercing scream if I say no (totally adorable, really and won't last forever!). :)

9. Having a Mom in my home last week who had a severely deformed baby--one of my real fears is having one myself--and seeing the glow of beauty and love radiating from both of them.  A powerful lesson to me, just by being in the presence of this woman.

8. My children being so well behaved and quiet upstairs while I had a homeschool event downstairs that the women never heard them once in 6 hours!  (They did have a babysitter, but still!)

7. Clare giving Leigh swimming lessons, and Leigh really swimming.

6. Clare having to earn her last birthday present due to a punishment for taking out toys while Mary and Leigh were putting toys away (she has to get a "check" on her chart for being "Very Helpful" every day for 12 days), and Clare truly metamorphosing--glowing as she asks, "How may I help you, Mom?"and volunteering work--before my very eyes.

5. Coming downstairs one morning and Clare announcing, "Mom, I started a load of laundry.  Darks."

4. Annie's wave and words: "Bye bye!" or "Hi!"

3. Turning down the offer to speak at the Magnificat Breakfast the November, not knowing why God asked this of me (except that I know I want to give my best attention to my family rather than a public engagement), and being pleased as punch that I know I have been obedient and that it is the right thing to do.

2. Mary taking over the job of cutting flowers and keeping our vases full every day with zinnias from our first ever successful cut-flower garden.  (CHECK OUT THE CARROTS, TOO!)

1. Jake wanting so desperately to do modern history this upcoming year, that he asked if he could read our unfinished history book from the previous period in the upcoming weeks so that he would be caught up and ready (oh my gosh!  Really??!!?).  

You know you have a lot of kids when. . .

. . .you go through an entire can of spray sunscreen in one application of the whole family!

What a wedding!!!!

Jake, Mary, Leigh and I in Napa Valley!

Time with Aunt Melia!!

A happy mother and daughter!

Praying for Aunt Kimmy in the church the day before the wedding. . .

A GORGEOUS BRIDE!

A raucous party, including a special feature: James Brown (R. Kreiling) and the famous flames (Melia, Kim and Kathryn)!

What a send off!  Throwing lavender at Mr. and Mrs. Miller!

What a truly joyous occasion.  I cannot get the image of beautiful Kimmy in her wedding dress out of my mind.  I've never seen someone so beautiful!!!

                                                                                            (Thanks Melia, for most of these pics!)

Napa Valley

All I can say is--heaven!!
Thank you, Kimmy, for bringing us here!

Daughter of God

     In the past 2 days I have heard reference to 5 people in my family being "geniuses."  That's a heck of a lot of geniuses.
     Maybe they are, and maybe they aren't.  But I get a little unsettled, thinking, "Am I the only lame-O, non-genius in my family!??"  I get this same unsettled feeling when I hear gushing reports about how people in my family are saving the world, saving the people in the world, or ending poverty/discrimination/hardship etc. in the world.  It's hard for me to stay steady--how is being a housewife and a mother measuring up in any significant way?
     The truth is, I am a daughter of God.  I once had a book with this as its title: "I am a Daughter of God."  It was about Carmelite spirituality.  I stared at the title on the spine of the book for a year.  The title was enough for me!  I did not even read the book!  I began praying, becoming in my heart what I knew I was called to me--such a daughter, myself.
     What the world needs is not a book or a DVD or a global forum or a talk show or money or a concept.  What the world needs is DAUGHTERS and SONS of GOD: it needs people who are so filled with joy and contentment that they shine.  It needs people who have learned to readily forgive.  It needs people who know how to give when they will not receive anything back.  It needs people who live their lives in communion with those close to them: daily life lived out hearing, responding, sharing, serving, laughing, relaxing, working together.  This can happen in any living room, in any kitchen, and with anybody whom you happen to live.
     Dignity in being loved and claimed by God, FORGIVENESS, and a joyful shared life: these are the ingredients to what I consider the most blessed life on earth.  I am delighted that I feel called to one day achieving this blessedness.  I believe that it is more powerful than a life of making books and DVD's and money and talk shows.  Those books and DVD's and money and talk shows are trying to help people embrace their dignity, forgive or overcome hardships, and live well together.  They are only valuable if they are working, and they are only working if they enable people to achieve this kind of blessedness.
     I know that I am not a genius and that is okay with me.  The real question, what is the life well lived--what is the BEST life?  It is true that I choose housewifery and motherhood and friendship over working to end suffering on earth.  I hope that in so doing, I can in my own particular way be a window through which peace and love and joy flood the world.
  
  

favorite appoach

My favorite approach to hard people is: "Thank you God for this wonderful person!  I love them, love them, love them!  And, help me to pour mercy over the part of them that is not yet right."  Enough prayer this way (sometimes, A LOT is needed) helps me not take the part that hurts personally.  That helps me resolve my ambivalence: rather than having HALF a heart of mercy, God grants me a FULL heart.  

marriage retreat

Ron and I are hosting our first ever marriage retreat in our home this weekend: Fri. and Sat.  I did not think it would happen; I did not push it to happen.  But a friend asked about the materials we had put together that I had previously mentioned, and one thing led to another, and voila!  It has fallen in our laps, and Ron and I just look at each other in amazement.  How did this happen?  We are both looking forward to it, nevertheless!

An insipid "Christianity"

There are 3 pillars of Christian faith--3 aspects that I think are essential to authentic life with God.  In the early Church, for example, all 3 were understood as crucial for the Christian life.

A.   Acceptance into the Family of God (separation from old ways and basking in the love of God and relishing being loved)

B.   Embrace of the Cross

C.   Indwelling of the Holy Spirit

  

       In our culture today, we have a watered down Christianity, where only the first is dabbled in.  Most Christians who leave the Church and most people who do not enter it in the first place do so because Christians are insipid in the living out of their faith--two thirds of what should be there is missing.  They are seeing vice and sin and no real living out of the Cross and no real impact by the Spirit. 

       Christians get tripped up and stuck.  We enter into the first vestibule, the adoption into the family of God.  We like that—there is much to gain.  In this vestibule, we lick our worldly wounds, we find reprieve from the sins of the world, we feel loved. 

       But inevitably, it is time to move onto the Cross.  The time comes to learn about how to suffer and not retaliate, how to be falsely accused and not defend oneself, how to be deprived, and not insist on our own way.  It is time to stop feeling sorry for ourselves for not getting what we want or think we deserve.  It is time to find Christ in our lack, and be with Him there.  It is time to give the world a gift in our suffering, as Christ offered His life for the sins of the world.  We have to learn to be glad in our sufferings and act as priests who, by the power of God, transform humiliations, torture and death into dignity, joy and life. 

       Most people do not ever make this step.  Again, it was requisite in the 2^nd century.  But today, it is considered beyond us.  The powers of evil have so overtaken our culture that we cannot even see that we are supposed to be living with Christ’s cross.  We are just mired down in anguish, sadness or despair.        

     Christians leave the faith because they wonder why life is so hard for them, why God is not rescuing them or sparing them.  It is time for that person to learn to embrace the POWER of the Cross in his life.  It is time to move into the second vestibule, the school of Christ's Cross, and learn to transform others and bring love and new life into the world by offering up suffering for the world.  

To Catch a Fairy

     The girls had their ballet performance, To Catch a Fairy!  They were divine.  Leigh was a Lilac fairy, Clare was an Iris fairy, and Mary was the Frost fairy.

     Mary was the tiniest little soloist--all the others were in their teens.  She shimmered and sparkled: she was so graceful.  I had to pinch myself that this is her first year of ballet.
     Leigh could not find the rhythm in her dance, but she waved to the audience with a wink and a smile, and everyone laughed.
     When Clare was doing her number, she got mad that a girl dancing next to her made the wrong move.  Clare angrily talked to the girl and pointed where she should be!  Although some people might think this was the low point of the whole show, Clare happily announced to me afterwards that she was "helpful" to the other girls, reminding them of their dances!  :)

gotta love summer!

making PEOPLE

     Where did our culture go so desperately wrong?  I do not understand how motherhood has become so unimportant in the eyes of most people.  I hear signs of its devaluation every day.  Some are putting off having children as long as they possibly can; others are fearful of having more than two; still others are looking to farm out as much of the "dirty work" as they can afford from infancy through graduation day.  Contrarily, mothers who are exclusively devoted to rearing their children are looked upon as having not enough to do, not thinking enough about societal contribution, or being overly possessive of their children.
     These ideas all trace back to one belief: motherhood is an unexceptional calling.  This could not be further from the truth.  What do I do all day long?  I make people.  Other people make cars, or houses, or shoes, or airplanes.  Some people make money, or make laws, or make changes in laws.  Some people make changes in people's health or changes in people's fitness.
     But I make people.  I give my body to be the environment in which growth occurs until a living, breathing person is ready to enter the world.  I do not do all the work of making this person--God, nature and my husband play their roles too.  But ask any mother how exhausting and all-encompassing of a job it is to be pregnant.  It is a full time job.
     Then, childbirth is a lifetime accomplishment.  When done prayerfully and lovingly, the mother's spirit is closer to God in those hours than perhaps any human being's ever is, except, I believe, in the event of martyrdom.
     Then in the next minutes and hours, and then days and weeks and months, the mother engages in the crafting of the human being.  The baby needs to sleep, and yet mothers need to help the child find sleep by rocking the baby and helping her drift off (why can't babies do this on their own?).  The baby needs to eat, and yet the mother needs to provide the food.  Often, she generates the food with her own body, and she administers it to the baby (why can't the baby feed herself?).  Babies need their mothers to teach them order, calm, and tenderness (why do babies take on and imitate their environment?).  Babies need their mothers to teach them that they are loved (why don't we come into the world with an automatic sense of self-worth?).  A child's self-worth is not fully set until she is an adult.  Even then, it can still be reshaped.  Why are we so vulnerable to the information our parents and others give us?  Why are we such wholly dependent creatures?  Other animals are not.  Humans are distinct in their radical vulnerability.
     This vulnerability is correlated to the high calling of motherhood.  A culture can de-prioritize motherhood and send messages that other jobs are more important.  But the baby's vulnerability does not go away.  The baby is left in a lurch, with a mother who is trying to do something "really important," and the baby's needs are just getting unfulfilled.
     I believe that there are other important jobs.  Providing education of all kinds, teaching skills and trades of all kinds, making good laws, helping others to become healthy, or live in a healthier society, ending wars, avoiding divorce, resolving conflicts, reversing harm to people or the earth or the waters--there are many, many important jobs.  I love these jobs and others like them, and I hope that my children will select jobs that have a high value.  But it just makes sense to me that motherhood is among the highest.  In order to have people to teach, in order to have people to run for office, or people to serve in office, there have to be people in the first place.  Making people, and helping them to be well-functioning, well-adapted, empathetic, good-hearted, disciplined and compassionate, is the prior requisite.  To make good laws is important; but to make people in the first place is of higher value.  Not all women are called to motherhood; goodness knows I am aware of that, and wish that people who are not called to something would not pursue it.
     But I dream of a world in which those who are called to motherhood would be delighted to receive the call, and would be surrounded by others cheering them on with awe and admiration, and that the future mothers would prepare themselves with all diligence and enthusiasm for this highest of vocations.

lessons learned

     I was putting Annie down for a nap.  We have a routine, but it was off.  So I was trying to get back on track.  She was fussing.  Then screaming and writhing and fighting.  I knew that if I could get through this episode in our normal pattern, then the next time would be that much easier.  But it was painful.  I could have just put her in her crib and let her cry it out.  I could have taken her back downstairs and just lived without a nap.  But I held her while she fought me.  I spoke softly and rocked her and patter her back, while she screamed and scratched.  Half an hour later, she fell asleep.  As she drifted off, I watched her.  She let me rock her, and she seemed to enjoy the caresses and tenderness.
     Having a baby is the best spiritual training I have had.  Better than books or adult examples or homilies, remaining tender to someone who is fighting you with all her might is a spiritual challenge.  In the moment, it feels impossible.  It also feels like the whole Gospel packed into one half hour.  Giving what you do not have, giving gently and tenderly when being tortured with screaming and kicking, giving out of pure love for the one who is hurting you, and then love winning in the end--what more is there to say?  

summer time together

     Today I was reminded why I homeschool.
     Jake asked to watch A Wrinkle in Time.  I told him he needs to read the book first.  He came back with the book on tape and said, "Would this count?"  I happily consented.  So he put it on in the kitchen.  I was doing laundry.  The girls wanted to hear.  So Annie crawled around and played silently while we all listened to Madeleine L'Angle tell us the story.  I am not sure why everyone was so cooperative.  We have tried books on tape for years with only partial success.  But today, everyone--even Annie--cooperated for an hour or more!  We will hopefully get through it in a couple of days.
     The rest of the day, we cleaned, organized, and just spent time together.  For a summer day, and school out of session, you can still feel the homeschooling effects.  There is just a different lifestyle.  I am supremely aware of the video-watching/Cheeto-eating culture that is constantly knocking on our door.  We have so far kept our door locked.  The pay off?  Quality time in the most authentic sense.  It is wonderful for me to see us all relate to one another all day long.  And love it.

announcement

Today I announced the existence of the Homeschooling Families of the Sacred Heart!  I sent out the newsletter and an email announcement.  What a joy to see it come to fruition!  I am proud of the newsletter, proud of the brochure; I have broken through all my previous barriers to technology and learned how to do computer design!  I am also proud of the community of mothers who are interested--women who have not felt connected or integrated into the community yet--now they have a place!  I am so, so grateful for that, and feel that they make this work worth it.  A big day in the life of this little homeschooling mother!  

Becoming Firm of Spirit

     When other people's feelings, moods, judgements and opinions impose themselves on me, and I falter in maintaining my OWN feelings, mood, thoughts and opinions, I go to Psalm 16.  I love every word of it, but my favorite lines are:
     "The Lord is my chosen portion and my cup; you hold my lot.  The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; I have a good inheritance."
     I think of God establishing my identity, self, mind, heart and life.  He sets the boundary lines--no one else does.
     Then, He fills it with good things, most especially Himself.  As Mother Theresa of Calcutta said: "Jesus is my All in All."  He alone is sufficient for me: "My grace is sufficient for you, my power is made perfect in weakness," (2 Cor. 12:9).  No matter what other people do or do not do, my cup is running over, my portion is large, because God is goodness overflowing.  That is inheritance enough for anyone!
     The final part of my prayer over Psalm 16 is to think of how God made me.  I make an impromptu list of my favorite things.  For example:

I love bulbs.
I love roses.
I love the beach.
I love coffee with a friend.
I love Annie's smile.

The list can go on and on and it changes every time I do it.
     I read and reread my list, and my feelings catch up with who I am, what is within my boundary lines, and who God made me.  My feelings catch up with God being the generous giver of these things, and I become grateful.  Then, with my emotions and mind realigned, I am a much more prayerful and happy person!    

grown up virtue flowers

     Since my last post, several comments have been made to me about grown ups doing them!  So my confession: at the time, I couldn't help myself--I did one with the kids.

     It was the demo.  And anyone can do this.  I pasted a stem and a center (I cut them randomly from construction paper) to the main paper.  Then I cut out petals.  I said to the kids: "What are some of the virtues that I am working on?  What do you hear me apologize for, and say I am working on?"  Mary said, "Always being gentle, even when you are upset!"  I said, "Bingo!  That's it!  That is one of the things I am really working on right now!"  So I wrote on a petal: "Always gentle."
     Then I said, "Is there anything that I am already good at?  Not a sport or a hobby, but something that is a virtue?  Something that makes God happy with how I am behaving?"
    Jacob said, "You have good judgment.  You know how to solve problems."
    "Thanks, Jake!"  I said.  So I wrote that on a petal.
    Then I glued that one on the center.  But I said, "Since I am not yet 'Always gentle,' I'll just tape that one to the bottom here."  And I did that.
     Clare and Leigh chimed in: "You are good at loving Jesus!  You love Mass!"  They said, "You are compassionate and loving!"  So I wrote those down on more petals and glued them on.
     At that point, we began the children's flowers.  What was so astounding to me, as I said, is that each person's glued-on petals were so different, and yet so worthy of rejoicing!  There was a virtual family celebration over each person's character, and we delighted in the each one.