Ron

Ron making Annie laugh:

 (How do you like Ron's long hair?)

Ron telling "Luke-a-Duke" stories to the kids before bedtime:

fish fry

     Ron and I hosted our first Lenten fish fry yesterday.  We invited 5 other families.  That means that our house held: 6 adults, 30 kids.  While that was not the first time we have hosted multiple families, the parents kept thanking us for our bravery in having all these people over.
     Ron fried fish using the commercial grade equipment his dad used when his dad helped with fish fries at his church in Alvin.  Ron fried 50 fillets of fish last night, and as a group, we went right through all the corn, broccoli (my contribution) :), cole slaw, dips and other sides, not to mention a whole table of desserts, that everyone brought.  Beer, wine and strawberry margaritas--it is policy not to count those, so I don't even know how much of that was consumed!  
     Are we brave?  When you go to the commercial level, 6 families is a piece of cake!

Shakespeare

     In an effort at erudition, I selected a Shakespearean sonnet for Jacob and Mary's next memorization assignment.  Sonnet 18: "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?  Thou art more lovely and more temperate. . . "
     Mary keeps calling it "Sonic."
     Would you like that poem with fries and a drink??  
     It appears we have a LONG way to go before we can pass as erudite!

. . . prophet 2

     . . . And then, one day about a month ago it just hit me like a brick: "This is now the time for God to bring you into the prophetic part of your baptismal vocation."  The prophets speak, and they speak in the Spirit of God--in love, admonition, and hope.  The prophet is given the words to speak, and the prophet utters them.   

     It has been so, so long that I have been silent.  I have been painfully, painfully silent.
     Amy Beth gave a HUGE gift to me when she coached me on Christmas Eve on how to do this blog. She brought it up, asked me to blog, and I gave her a dozen reasons why I can't do it.  She understood them, but untangled the issues and resolved my quagmire.  

    So on Christmas Day, I turned over a new leaf.  These are my real opinions and real experiences.  It occurred to me a few days later: I had Leigh on Christmas Day several years before.  This was like a new child--my voice.  

     But God's direction of me into this "prophetic" role goes beyond the blog.  It is all of our calling, as I understand it, to exercise this aspect of our baptismal grace when the time is right.  And so now begins the time that my incubation period is coming to a close (a period that has lasted a decade).  I now have more to say.  More is crystalized of what I am called to say: about my story, about my vision, about family and motherhood, and about the love of God.  I am happy to move past fear and emotion deregulation, and into a place of "speaking the truth in love," (Eph. 4:15).  

     I feel like Moses at the burning bush: 40 years of exile has come to a close (in my case, 10).  I am tired and ragged and unkempt.  Now it is time to speak with love, come what may.  (As I recall, Moses didn't fare so well most of the time!)  

     This is not glamorous or even enjoyable, but it is a step forward in becoming who God desires me to be.  It makes me happy!

. . .prophet. . .

     About the prophetic role that Christians are called to: the first great insight I was exposed to was last Sept.  We were at the Homeschool Mass for the beginning of the school year.  The priest gave a WONDERFUl homily on the role of mothers.  He said we are all exercising our prophetic call, because prophets instruct: "Go this way, and not that."  The homeschooling mother does this all day, every day: academically, morally, spiritually, culturally, and beyond.  He blessed us and asked the Holy Spirit to direct the direction we gave to our children.  I have called upon that memory many times this school year. . .  

my brother

     I saw my brother, Hunter, perform tonight.  He is the ONLY black metal star who sells a BOOK at the CD table.  He wrote a book on his music.  He sells it with the t-shirts and albums.  The guy next to me, buying a t-shirt, said, "Oh my G--!  This guy sells an f---ing BOOK?  Who the h--- sells a BOOK?!"  I bought two.
    I LOVE my brother.

"Priest, prophet and queen"

     The basic Christian theology about Jesus as I understand it is that He is "priest, prophet and king": He is  the high priest before the Father, petitioning for us; He is prophet, showing us the way; He is King of heaven and earth.
     It says in the Catechism that we as Christians are to imitate Christ, and be like Him in all three of these aspects.  We are to be "priests," helping others be reconciled with God; we are to be "prophets," guiding others; we are to be "kings," being the royalty of the family of God.
     I have spent the past seven years exploring the "priestly" office.  I have been wholly focused on interceding on behalf of my loved ones before the Father.  Hebrews is the Book that discusses Jesus' priestly role, and it mentions His priesthood being in spite of His weakness.  That is very helpful for me, as I am very, very weak, yet aspire to live out my priestly vocation nevertheless.
    I learned from my wonderful friends in Louisiana how to "offer things up": how to offer pain to be joined to the Passion of Christ so that the pain would be redemptive for others.  That has been a huge part of this priestly office.  It is the offering I make before the Father: the offering of spilled milk, dirty diapers, hard conversations, disappointments.  I offer these hardships to be united to the suffering of Christ, so that instead of raw and wasted pain, the suffering will have some value--in fact, fantastic, immeasurable value.  This is what is upside down about Christianity: our failures and miseries are what is most powerful about our lives.
    Well, last month, I had my first reflection on the prophetic role.  Today, I had my first reflection on the royal office.  More to come tomorrow. . . . :)

being heroic

     One of Ron's best lines of all time is: "Sometimes in life, you have to be heroic just to avoid being a bad guy."  That is, there are times that to be just but not heroic leaves you being petty, small-hearted, or small minded.  The irony is that it is just: you are upset at being genuinely wronged; or, you are avoiding that person because they are always so hurtful.  But at a certain point, you have to rise above your instincts and be magnanimous, be bigger and better than justice or normalcy dictates.  Otherwise, you have inadvertently become the reactive and juvenile person you did not want to be.
    For me, forgiving is like that.  It takes heroism.  It is really hard.  it is only possible for me through grace.  I cannot do it myself, because my desire to protect myself is too strong.  It is a gift to be able to forgive.  But in the end, it is a gift to myself as well as the other person.  We were made to forgive.  And yet we do not come naturally equipped with the instinct or the ability.  Such a strange quagmire we humans are in.  

Lent

     Lent could not have come at a better time for me this year.  I had had a rough month before Lent, and then had taken some time for self reflection--what was so rough?  Was it external circumstances, or was it something I was contributing?  The month was hard: my frustration levels were rising with my kids, since my kids seemed to be absent-minded, and consequently, routinely disobedient (see "Hibernation").  I was constantly out of sorts.  I'm sure my company was terrible: I didn't even like being around myself! By the end of Feb., I was officially depressed.
     What I realized was that, back in Nov. and Dec., I had gotten upset--I felt wronged.  I never really dealt with it.  I just "moved on."  But as I have mentioned, it is really important for my interior life to live out a habit of forgiveness.  I need to consciously choose to forgive, releasing the hold I have on the one whom I feel wronged by.  If I do not, I become the "kathryn" that I do not really like, the old me that is tense and irritable.  (I'm sorry if you know EXACTLY what I am talking about!:) )
     So this is the domino effect: I feel wronged, and instead of forgiving, I take offense (SIN!).  In being offended, I condescend (SIN!).  That is, I am looking down on the "idiot" (pardon me!) who wronged me.  From this crucial point, my life of faith is destroyed.  I am incompatible with anything humble, gentle, kind, forgiving, tender, thoughtful--anything marked by the Spirit of God has no more place in me.
     In condescending, then, I take on irritation, annoyance, impatience and frustration (SIN!). From here, I can easily lose my faith that God will heal or save or improve anyone (SIN!).  I become my own master, my own boss, and God no longer has "Lordship" in my life--that is, I have lost the sense of surrender that is the cornerstone of the Christian life with God (SIN!).  The final stage on this downward spiral is that I feel stuck with my own sins.  I feel that I cannot be cleansed by God, that by burdens are stuck on me, and there is no way to wash them off (SIN!).  At this point, I am depressed.
     I noticed that in classic Christian style, my "freedom," my becoming my own master, has been my own enchaining.  It is a horrible, horrible thing for me to lose my sense of surrender to God.  All of that stemmed, though, from the original feeling wronged, and not forgiving.
    Well, in this case, it was not a person I felt wronged by.  It was an institution.  So that is perhaps one reason why it "slipped through" without my noticing.  But as it turns out, I learned, I need to forgive ANYONE and EVERYTHING that I can feel hurt by!
     I realized all this just before Lent started.  Oh, how grateful I was!!!  Now, I could spend all 40 days, forgiving, and tending to that original hurt.  Then, I could address the other layers as necessary.  The daily readings and Lenten practices all make such sense and have such direct impact on me.  In all of it, I feel so much GRACE and HELP and COMPASSION.  I feel that God is ready at hand to help me through forgiveness, and ready to jump back into place as the Shepherd, the one who gently guides me to green pastures.
    And if my kids would become more obedient, I might become more gentle and less frustrated! :)   But that is yet to happen! :)
         

jake's first fire

     All educated on fire-building from a week in the wilderness with Ron, Jake started his first fire this weekend.  Ron had taken the girls out for Mary's birthday dinner (Mary, 2 friends and 2 sisters).  Jake, Annie and I stayed home.  I made burgers and Jake offered to build a fire outside.  It was totally impromptu: Jake just offered, I agreed, and he got to work.  He lit his first match.

   Then he got the fire going.  Honestly, it was an amazing fire.  It went for hours, with a little tending from the master himself.

     He and I had a great time talking, catching up after a week apart.  He told me all about the snow, the cold dinners, the views, and his talks with his dad.  I just relished in the evening.  It was relaxed and festive and had the warmth of a reunion--a mother/son reunion, in this case.

beach time!

     Oh, how I needed to get out of town and get some fresh air!

     And so we did.  Ron and Jake were heading to the wilderness for a week, and so I packed up all 4 girls and drove to the beach with Ron's parents in tow.  We rented a little house on the beach that Ron grew up on, just south of Galveston.

I sat on the porch for 6 days, nursed my baby as I watched my 3 other girls play in the water that Ron surfed in as a teenager.

     The time with Ron's parents was priceless, as they were more relaxed than I have seen them in years.    

There is just something about the beach.

i hate ballet

I hate ballet--the pressure for a particular (and very unnatural) body image, the pressure for external image at the great cost of inner development. . . who ever heard of a nice ballerina??!

But as it turns out, Mary has talent.  Her teacher has placed her in the class above the one Mary should be in, and a panel of judges just voted to give Mary a solo in the spring performance.  Mary is truly breathtaking when she moves--it is as though she was born to dance!

So we are plunging in head first, placing her in a school that is not very ambitious but is excellent in terms of technique.  There is no pressure; it has a recreational feel.  But the girls get great coaching from their teacher who is a perfectionist at heart.

Mary is SO HAPPY that I am allowing her to pursue ballet.  She and I had "special time" a few weeks ago, taking a trip to the ballet store in Dallas.

Then we went to Whole Foods and she walked every isle in her new pink long sleeve leotard, tights, and white leg warmers.  She got LOTS of comments.

 She is an amazing person, and I am blessed to be helping bring out the best and find something creative to do with the worst.  But she is a testimony to me: we cannot control our children!  They will always surprise us!  And with Mary, the surprise is a delight! :)

highlight of infancy

     The highlight of infancy for me as a mother is this: the baby has been exploring her environment with insatiable curiosity.  She has grasped, dropped, reclaimed, sucked on and slobbered all over every single object she can find.  She moves from one to the next, downloading massive amounts of information about the the stuff that makes up her world.  Eventually, she starts rubbing her eyes, and I see she is ready for a nap.  I let her explore another minute or two, just to burn off any last energy that might be lingering.
    Then, before she melts down, I swoop her up, tell her gently that it is time for a rest.  I swaddle her and nurse her.
     The part I love is that she instantly shuts her eyes, cuddles up and starts nursing.  She assumes this reclined posture, her little active hands now wrapped to her sides, and her face displays a sleepy, trusting contentment.  Five heavy consecutive breaths from her, and I know she will transfer to the crib without a protest.  She clings to sleep with affection, and she has let me help her find it.    

what I love most about Leah

     What I love most about Leah is her humility.  Leah has outstanding boundaries, and I think that leads to humility.  Humility, in turn, leads to gratitude, and gratitude leads to joy.  Joy and gratitude are like the offspring of proper humility.  Leah's sincere and overwhelming gratitude is hard to miss.  She is sincere--her gratitude for many of the good things in her life is unadulterated and childlike, in the best sense.  She is not jaded or hardened.  Her gratitude is from the marrow of her bones.  Potent, pure gratitude is just part of her adult character.  In my opinion, this trait comes from humility (which is, in part, knowing where boundaries actually lie rather than where you wish they did).  

     Boundaries are often thought of as walls or barriers in between people.  But that is not how I think of them.  Being good with boundaries is first and foremost knowing what is truly yours, what is truly owed to you, and conversely, knowing what is not truly yours, and what is not truly owed to you.  

     Leah is the person in my life who has the most admirable boundaries.  The reason is that she seems to have an intuitive grasp of just how much in her life is not truly hers.  She seems to really get that a good thing in her life is not owed to her, but is given despite the fact that it is not owed.  Leah seems to be divinely pure-hearted.  She keeps her hands open, and lets things come into her hands and them leave, and she remains steady.

     These boundaries lead, in my opinion, to her most astounding feature: her counter-cultural and totally unlearned gift for humility.   She was raised in a city, a culture, that did nothing to promote the virtue of humility.  Becoming remarkable, becoming extraordinary, becoming self-possessed, articulate, thoughtful, and being able to give a big gift to the world: yes.  These are messages that she heard daily.  But becoming humble--well, as most people understand humility, that would cut against becoming extraordinary!  Or maybe, for a woman, it could cut against becoming strong or self-possessed.  My read on Manhattan culture is that humility is one of those things that should just not be discussed much.  It could de-rail other great things from developing.

     Somehow, though, humility sprang up in Leah's heart and life.  I am not talking about the false humility of self-deprecation, esteeming your self lower than others, or not allowing yourself to see the good in in you.  I am talking about genuine humility which can be defined as being aware of who you really are, being "Close to the ground" (humus) regarding your self-understanding.  This allows you to be grateful for the good.  But it also allows you to recognize the good in others and not compare your self negatively to them.  So in this sense, it helps keeps one's self-estimation as high as it should be.  The goal for humility is not being at the bottom of the totem pole, but rather being where you are and who you are well.  Leah's sense of not being owed the gifts in her life is truly remarkable, and is an inspiration.