And a Little Child Shall Lead Them

If it is possible for me to break my Lenten sacrifices before I leave the church grounds, I will do it every time.    It's that aforementioned rebellious nature. Therefore, I try to construct sacrifices I can't goof up on while the ashes are still snowing off my forehead!  Most of my plans for this year fall into the latter category but as a family, we took on "bear wrongs patiently." (In case you can't decide on a sacrifice check out this Lenten Resolution Flow Chart!)

Since I made threats to all three little children at one point or another during Ash Wednesday Mass, thus goofing up before we even got to the Eucharist, it's safe to say this is a sacrifice tailor made for me. My personal spin on it is "refrain from criticism."  Of course I have to correct and train my children, but the criticism is not needed.  Criticism is a bad habit. I plan to break the back of that habit during Lent.

It's my training ground, for certain. The only place that tests me more than church is the ballpark. Safety is a huge issue at the ballpark when older girls are playing. The only place you are really safe from foul balls is sitting on the bleachers. Therefore, I cruelly insist that my little ones "sit" when the batter is up. Since 90% of all the other little ones at the ball park are allowed to run around nilly willy, this is excruciating for my Littles. I say over and over, "Go to your seat," "Please sit on your bottom," or "Where are you supposed to be?"  I make it okay through the game but the minute we head to the parking lot for a sandwich, all my patience drains through my shoes.

Saturday was no exception. I was alone with the kids as Paul was away being inspired by Matthew Kelly and Alli was at a discernment retreat at the Cathedral. As I corrected Tinker, my tone turned sharp and I said rhetorically, "What is wrong with you?" She smiled and ran off but The Blitz stopped dead in his tracks and turned around, an encouraging look on his face.

"Bear wrongs patiently, Mom."

Chastised, I said, "Oh, you're right buddy.  I need to bear wrongs patiently."

"That means, 'don't be mean,'right, Mama?"

"You're right again, buddy."

"K Mom. Well just try again, okay?"

I thank God for my children. They are my best teachers as well as my greatest joy. I greatly needed that reminder about our family sacrifice, but even more, I needed the reminder to "just try again." Lent is about making perfect my soul, but I am not going to be perfect getting there. The prophet Isaiah had it right, we need that little child to lead us!

(Photo credit: Lily Parish)

Rend my Heart: An Ash Wednesday Reflection

 I have been waiting for Ash Wednesday for about a month. I am impatient with the dreariness of winter; I long for the warmth in the breeze and that beautiful golden-green that signals the very first moments of spring (al a Robert Frost). "Lent" literally means "spring" and I relish living in a part of the country in which the two events actually coincide.  

In December I became aware of a blind-spot of mine: I have a rebellious nature. (I can hear you laughing! Of course you knew this! I am the last to know and that's why it's called a "blind-spot," smarty!) I took this revelation to confession and Fr. Jonathan sweetly asked, "What are you rebelling against?" This I could not answer. Fast forward a few weeks, many hours of prayer and a couple of conversations with my astute support partner and the answer was abundantly clear: I rebel against vulnerability. Or to put it another way, I close my heart. As much as I am being lighthearted, it is a terrible and painful admission for me. Since then, for weeks, truly, I have been praying for open-heartedness, abundant love, abiding love, for perfect love.

I love the words from the first reading today, "rend your hearts and not your garments, and return to the Lord, your God."  I can visualize that tough old covering being "rent" off. I see progress. As always, just identifying a blind-spot tends to make us work on it. I was sorely tested in Mass today though, I promise; all three little ones were putting me through the ringer and I was grateful for the Lord's prayer in which we forgive others because never did I need it more! I managed to genuinely pass the peace with them but I'd be praying for forgiveness again before we got out. Yet, in other days, I see that I am more willing to be open-hearted, to love unconditionally, to let others in. Not as much as I'd like, but progress.

I know I have it in me to be vulnerable. I can remember instances-- days and weeks -- in which I opened my heart, both to beauty and to pain. In More to Life, they call it "letting in the lifeshocks."   I remember inspiring jubilation and terrible, heart-wrenching hours, both met with that simple vulnerability. What amazes me now that is that I can see in both extremes (and all that occurred in between) that regardless of the raw emotion, when I was able to let go the reins, such incredible, sweet tenderness was present. I was able - in those times - to feel a peace and assurance that is not present in my daily life. Remembering these times encourages me and quells my fear.

So enter Lent, which I like to call "the spiritual work season." I am ready to roll up my sleeves, put myself in the paths of lifeshocks, and knock the devil on his keister! I know that it is evil, not love, that makes me close my heart out of fear. And when I do, I don't always notice. It's not a loud, clanging door, like when the wind catches the screen. It's more like the heavy sliding door of the confessional; it just eases closed without a peep. It is not until later that I realize I have fortressed my heart again.

I have chosen my Lenten sacrifices of course, the measurable, accountable kind. But my true sacrifice will be one that is much harder to measure; I am giving up my protectiveness. I am going to stop worrying about what will happen if I truly let God hold the reins in my life. I am letting go of the illusion of control. In fact, I am suddenly reminded of something my friend and mentor Richard Perry said once, "God has given me every moment of choice . . . and not a single moment of control."

My work for the season is to see how God can use me if I let him. I will let him. Stay tuned. . .

Annulment is Not a Dirty Word (Conversion - Part 6)

This morning my "quiet time" was interrupted by Dear Hubby, then Pepper, then the Blitz and then, frankly, I gave up. I know I have to get up earlier than I did today in order to have that solitude but it was hard to let go because I was contemplating the first reading from not today, but yesterday and this passage in particular:

For what "son" is there whom his father does not discipline?

So strengthen your drooping hands and your weak knees.
Make straight paths for your feet,
That what is lame may not be dislocated but healed.

Hebrews 12:7, 12-13

For some reason, this passage reminded me of my beginnings of RCIA and having my previous marriages annulled. At first, it just seemed like a painful ordeal, a harsh discipline . . . but I am getting ahead of myself.

Shortly after starting to attend Mass at St. John Vianney, I found in myself a profound curiosity about the Catholic faith. I started wondering about the order of the Mass and why things were done as they were. At the time I had no intention of converting but I responded as in all things: I began a process of research.

I started with a book, Why do Catholics do That? which explained some things quite well. I began to see the flow of the liturgy and the rhythm of the Mass.  A friend suggested Scott Hahn's book, Rome Sweet Home.  It was very hard for me to buy this book, I will admit, because I hated the cheesy title (of which I am still not enamored). Nonetheless, I was drawn to learn about why a Protestant minister became a Catholic theologian. So I read the book and related to much of what he said, particularly about his searching for the "true church of Jesus Christ." These books were the starting point of my quest.

Within months of joining the Parish, I had done enough research to know I wanted to join the Catholic church; Father Sam, however, said (basically), "There is a way to do this, and it is through the RCIA process." Even well-researched and convicted people have to go through RCIA, apparently. So I did.

I was sure about most things, but I had one source of concern* and one roadblock.  My roadblock was that my previous marriages had to be annulled. This was a big one for me. I had married to escape the issues of my adolescence. I had been in and out of relationships for years until, in my mid-thirties, I finally realized that I could not change my past, nor my past relationships, but I could change the course of my future. At that point, I began to take true responsibility for my own happiness which included accepting the mistakes of my past and forgiving the other actors in those events.

It is an understatement to say that I entered the annulment process with fear and trembling. Annulment meant revisiting not only my past, but truthfully and fully owning up to my part in all that went wrong. In annulment paperwork, you not only tell the story of what happened in the marriage, you have to tell why you think it happened, what you could have done to repair or prevent it and why it ended as it did. (And not only this, but put it all on paper for total strangers to assess.) Oh and let us not forget, you also have to provide witnesses who may know something about the situations. As gut wrenching and difficult as that was, it was the easy part. The hard part was knowing my former spouses (in their current lives) would also be revisiting our mutual past. I felt terrible about intruding on their lives in this way. Over the time of counseling with Father Sam and working on the annulments, I got in contact with them and had a chance to say,"I'm sorry for my part. I'm sorry for the pain I caused you. I wish you nothing but joy and peace in your future." It was amazingly liberating to be able to say, "I'm sorry" while truly expecting no apology, no admission of responsibility or anything else in return.

[I notice as I write that I want to launch into a defense of the process of annulment. I know it is widely misunderstood and disliked. That's not my role right now.]

I can tell you that for me, the process of going through my annulments was one of the most healing, hopeful, and cleansing experiences of my life. I was able to look back at what had previously been chapters of shame in my life and to realize that I was a regular human who had made mistakes and subsequently confessed those mistakes and that they were over and done with. I was able to close those chapters and accept God's true and complete forgiveness. It was beautiful.

At the time,all discipline seems a cause not for joy but for pain,
yet later it brings the peaceful fruit of righteousness
to those who are trained by it.

Hebrews 12:11

*I will talk about my "one concern" in my final installment of my conversion story.

Part One of my story
Part Two  - Midnight Mass
Part Three - Crucifix Ephiphany
Part Four - Seeker
Part Five - Signs and Wonders
Part Seven - Taking it on Faith

Grace Before Meals

I'm a big advocate of family mealtimes.  In fact, if you read my family blog, you will think all we do is eat.  It seems that way to the "head cook and bottle washer" too!

When we started building our home, Pepper was 15 months old and Sunshine was expected; we had just met her birthmother for the first time.  Our vision for our home included a kitchen in the middle so it could be the center of our family activity.  (Little did I know that it would also be the center of a racetrack.  Every toddler to enter our door immediately runs the full circle several times.)

Since moving in, family meals have been a priority and they are still the norm for our family.   Even in a household with two busy teens, we manage dinner all together several nights a week. When the girls were young, we started a family tradition that remains to this day and is much beloved by "the Littles."  Each person in turn "gets the floor" and they tell us three things about their day:  "What am I proudest of?", "What was hard for me today?" and "What would I have for a "do-over?"  We don't do this every night because with little kids, it's a little repetitive, but we do it so often that our conversations naturally steer themselves that way.  I think the important part about the table conversation was that from the time our oldest were small, we talked, personally, at the table.

You can imagine, then, how happy I was to learn about Father Patalinghug and his movement, Grace Before Meals. I first learned about Father Leo on a re-run of Bobby Flay's Throwdown.  Father Leo is all about the family table and in his book by the same name, he encourages families to gather at the table before a beautiful meal and share. He gives ideas for special days to celebrate and conversation starters for those special meals. He's so inspiring.

He's hilarious too. Corny, kitschy, kooky, however you say it, he's an enjoyable speaker.  We were fortunate today to have him celebrate a Mass at Saint Williams and even the little ones were laughing. Then later, he hosted a "family picnic" and demonstrated his famous Asian Fusion Fajitas.    This is the recipe with which he defeated superstar television chef Bobby Flay in his "Throwdown."  He spoke (and cooked) for nearly an hour about how this time together as a family is the absolute best way to keep the evil one at bay. He pointed out that many (secular) studies showed that kids in families who regularly eat dinner together are far less likely to use drugs, smoke, drink alchohol or join gangs. However, it wasn't only his cooking that inspired me although he has mad skills; it was his honoring of the family, of the Church and of the sacraments that had me at times laughing and at others, moved to tears.

I came away with a copy of his newest book, Spicing up Married Life, but more importantly with a renewed appreciation for the family table and the true value of what we are doing. I'm happy to know that we have a "televangelist" priest finding a new and innovative way to speak up for the family.  If you are not already familiar with Father Leo, I hope you will take time to check out his wonderful ministry and television series!

We pics of Pepper and I with Father Leo but can't seem to get them off the phone.  Oh well!  Maybe next time!

Facebook as a First Step to Advocacy

Yesterday, I attended daily mass which happened to also be a Mass for the National Day of Prayer and Penance.  I regret not having been better informed about this day in advance in order to have properly invited my family into observing this day with me.  On Tuesdays, I attend Mass with my 5 year old and it is our special time together.

Now for the confession: While I have for many years been opposed to legalized abortion, I have not been outspoken in my opposition to it. I've done little to affect change or even to open dialogue about it. If you know me, I'm more of a "doer" than a "debater." And I happen to know that at least half my friends around the world are pro-choice, and many are pro-euthanasia as well.

I hesitate because I know that it is a very complex issue; I know every case is different; I know that I have not "walked a mile in her shoes;" I know the issue is complicated by rape, incest, drugs, genetic disease and other things.  I also hesitate because, frankly, I have known I was infertile since I was 19 years old. A poorly timed pregnancy has never been a concern for me.

Nonetheless, Father Dean in his quiet way convicted me at that Mass. I felt moved to post something on my Facebook feed about it.  Here is what I said, verbatim:

As of today, I have 709 friends on Facebook. If you chose to unfriend me for what I say next, I understand, but I hope you will hear me out first. 

Today I am thinking about life. Today, at mass, I stood by Gabriel (age 5) who has been my greatest teacher (EVER). He was born at 27 weeks and though his odds weren't good, he not only survived, he thrived. He's a fighter. I looked at his sweet face and wondered, what if he had not survived to be born? What if his birthmother had chosen to end his life? Was she the perfect mother to him? No, but neither am I. Yet he is worthy of love and I cannot imagine my life without him or any of my precious children whose birthmothers were brave enough to carry them and bring them to birth.

I am constantly astounded that in the age of ultra sounds where parents can see their in utero baby just days after conception, we are still legally condoning killing hundreds on thousands of babies each year in the US alone. It breaks my heart.

I believe in the sanctity of ALL human life; I believe that the elderly, the frail, the immigrant, the disabled, people of all races and ethnicities, the poor, people who commit crimes and the unborn all deserve our respect and protection. They all deserve life and dignity.

If you don't agree with me, let's converse in person about it (my number is on my info) -- please do not send "poison darts" here on Facebook as that only results in further polarization. I do not have all the answers but I am interested in reconciliation. Let's talk.

I was astounded by the response, frankly.  Only two people responded in a way that could be considered "fighting words."  What resulted was an open-minded, open-hearted discussion about why people believe as they do.

In a later comment, I had the chance to state emphatically that I am not in any way pointing a finger at the women who have made this choice for themselves.  I am not here to judge or to condemn another person's past. I cannot imagine facing that tough decision and I have nothing but empathy for women who have found themselves in that position.

 It's my goal to open the dialogue -- to brainstorm, to open minds, to question -- in order that our country can put an end to this horrible legacy.  Yet, the discussion leaves me with more questions than answers.

 I do believe that outlawing abortion would lead to people seeking it in back rooms and unsafe conditions, and that has its own consequences. I think there are complicated instances in which a woman could see abortion as the only viable option.  If only there were a middle ground that right now seems impossible given the state of health care and the economic variables in our country. What if pro-life forces started with small steps and began with the most controversial abortions -- late term terminations -- and we worked at it piece by piece?

As well, we are far from having social support that can uphold women in crisis pregnancy; these supports are mostly only available through financially strapped non-profits.  We would need a stronger, faster, (possibly non-religious) and more efficient delivery system of support for mothers who chose to parent (against tough odds) and for those who made adoption plans.  Roe v Wade was upheld at the time when most adoptions were closed and the results were not so good for some of those kids. Adoption education would be an absolute necessity and in order to affect that education,  many more large scale studies on adoption must be done. I can tell you first hand that adoption is hard on kids. Is it better than being raised by an ill-equipped parent?  In many cases, but probably not in all cases. We have a lot of learning yet to do.

We are a fractured and itinerant society; it truly does "take a village" and we would need many kinds of healing to make such a support system viable. We're not even close.

Nonetheless, for many, the question seems to come down to one of life.  When does life begin?  At conception?  At 16 days after conception, when a heartbeat is visible on an ultra-sound?  Certainly by the second or third trimester, life is hard to deny.  This is an important question and one that will not be answered by shouting, picketing, name calling or bumper stickers. My experience through Gabriel Project was that once mothers saw an ultra sound of their child in utero, they saw a human life. Perhaps there is a way in here; perhaps federally funded clinics could be required to offer ultrasounds before a termination plan is made.  Pie in the sky, I know.  But it would be a step in the right direction.

For me, it's clear.  If we were in a war in which over 1000 (some say 1600) American lives were being lost every single day, the country would be up in arms. Even the quiet, non-political people (like me) would be involved. We would not stand for it. If I have learned one thing as a parent, it's this: I make mistakes, big ones. And when I do, it's "on me" to apologize, take back, rethink, reconsider and course-correct. I seriously doubt that those arguing in Roe v Wade ever dreamed their battle would lead us to where we are today. It is time -- high time -- that we said, "enough."

I am still discerning my part. What's yours?

(Post script -- after a lively discussion by dozens of my friends on Facebook and after about 20 hours, I still have 708 friends.  I am inspired by our ability to engage in civil and respectful discourse in a such a diverse group.  It gives me great hope!)

Hope for my Resolutions

Yesterday's readings reminded me that Jesus not only forgives my human weakness, he understands and has experienced it for himself:

For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who has been similarly tested in every way, yet without sin. So let us confidently approach the throne of grace to receive mercy and to find grace for timely help. (bold print mine)

Hebrews 4:15-16

. . . Those who are well do not need a physician, but the sick do. I did not come to call the religious, but sinners.

Mark 2:17b

These are perfect (of course!) readings for this season, nearly three weeks into a brand new year.  Almost three weeks after promises and resolutions were made and most, I suspect, like I, are struggling to say true. 

This year, at least, I know what I have not known before (at least not known it "in my bones"), it is not about will power. It is all about acknowledging my human weakness --my sin -- and availing myself of the abundant grace that is within reach and freely flowing. It is truly about washing myself in the stream of living water, the font of grace, that is always right here where I am. It is, in fact, "the river of life-giving water, sparkling like crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb." 

It is available, flowing freely, the living water of God's grace and forgiveness.  At any moment in time, I can avail myself of it, splash in it, drink it in, immerse myself, bathe in it. The question then remains, "What am I waiting for?"

Photo credit

Epiphany Season Epiphany

I feel sad that the Christmas season is almost over.  It's a sense of letting go. The perennial question is, "How do I keep the sense of joy, connection and wonderment going through the year?" (Although it's very good the feasting has come to an end!)

When I dig a little deeper into that sadness, that reluctance, I think of a few things I love about our celebration of Christmas this year:

• I love the way the house looks decorated for Christmas
• I like the sense of celebration
• I enjoy my own renewed dedication to the sacraments and my faith practices
• I enjoy the break from so much running around to appointments and "kid stuff"
• I treasure hearing from people with whom I am rarely in touch
• I relish (tee-hee) preparing special meals (and feasts!)
• I love the candles and theme of "light in the darkness" 
• I focus more on altruism

The question then becomes, how can I create this at other times?  Thinking aloud, here is my short list of ideas:

• Do something decorative in the house each month.  For example, this month I'm going to put some plants on the shelf behind where the Christmas tree now stands.
• Have dinner in the dining room with the china every weekend
• Continue attending daily mass and my morning practices which include meditation, scripture reading and journaling.  (I have actually already spent time with the calendar and three different parish bulletins to make this a reality.  I'm so blessed to live where I have 5 parishes within 15 miles of me!)
• Consider what "running around" I can let go of; re-institute weekly "no driving" days.
• Weekly, write a note (or last resort, an email) to someone who matters to me.
• Keep the candles around and light them. Light the fireplace. Gather the family.  Enjoy! Savor!
• Do a better job of keeping the holy water full. The kids love it!
• Like at Christmas, making a family effort, at least monthly to give a gift of time, talent or treasure to someone in need.  Right now, in fact, I know a family who could use some meals.

My task now -- right now, in fact -- is to calendar these items so that they actually occur.  Even if I need to reschedule them, they will remain in mind.  

It can't be Christmas every day but I can keep the spirit alive in our home and in me. I want the feast days to stand out -- to be a contrast to every day life -- but they don't have to be as much of a contrast as they have been.  I remember as a child, things of faith -- primarily sitting in church -- seemed like work to me. I want to bring more of the joy of our faith into our home; I want the kids to have the "fun" of it, so to speak.  

If you have any ideas on keeping the spirit of Christmas alive in your home, please share!