Longing for Home--Random Thoughts On My Journey

The Newest Member of Our Family

2010-11-29T20:11:00.003-06:00

Today is the due date of the baby we miscarried during Holy Week earlier this year.

We decided to name the little one, and it has been a very healing thing to wrestle with a name. We wrestled with names for our other three--why not this one? No one in our family pictures the baby as anything other than a boy (big surprise!), so a boy name it is:

Emmanuel Micah

I (Chris) went to the Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe in LaCrosse this weekend with Michelle. I was reading the story of St. Gianna Molla, who is a saint depicted, among others, in the beautiful shrine church. She was a pediatric physician who died in 1962 a week after her fourth child was born. She found out in her second month of pregnancy that she had uterine tumors and wanted her baby's life preserved at all costs. The baby was named Gianna Emanuela by her father. The name Emmanuel means "God with us" and it jumped out at me because it comforted me last year at Christmastime shortly after the death of my mom. As I pondered St. Gianna's passion for her child and respect for life, and the meaning of the name, it seemed right.

Guy picked the middle name. It is one we have had on the name list for every boy born so far. It's also a reminder of the first memory verse I can recall memorizing as a child, and the first one the boys memorized this year: Micah 6:8. What does the Lord require of you? To do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with our God.

We feel closer to the baby now, and look forward to being able to ask him for his prayers for our family by name. We wanted to share the name with you.

I Can Totally Relate

2010-06-07T22:05:00.001-05:00

The Loneliness of the Christian

by A. W. Tozer

“ The loneliness of the Christian results from his walk with God in an ungodly world, a walk that must often take him away from the fellowship of good Christians as well as from that of the unregenerate world. His God-given instincts cry out for companionship with others of his kind, others who can understand his longings, his aspirations, his absorption in the love of Christ; and because within his circle of friends there are so few who share his inner experiences he is forced to walk alone.

The unsatisfied longings of the prophets for human understanding caused them to cry out in their complaint, and even our Lord Himself suffered in the same way.

The man [or woman] who has passed on into the divine Presence in actual inner experience will not find many who understand him. He finds few who care to talk about that which is the supreme object of his interest, so he is often silent and preoccupied in the midst of noisy religious shoptalk. For this he earns the reputation of being dull and over-serious, so he is avoided and the gulf between him and society widens.

He searches for friends upon whose garments he can detect the smell of myrrh and aloes and cassia out of the ivory palaces, and finding few or none he, like Mary of old, keeps these things in his heart.

It is this very loneliness that throws him back upon God. His inability to find human companionship drives him to seek in God what he can find nowhere else."

Why am I surprised?

2010-05-04T13:18:00.002-05:00

I've been really irritable lately. Most of the time I have the self-control to not allow my tongue to do the lashing it wants to do. But not always. And then I regret and become even more irritable.

And then it hit me yesterday. I know the reason I'm irritable. It's grief. For me, it's easier to be angry than it is to cry. It also feels easier to keep my grief private than to have to process it with people at a time that's not my choosing.

Mom died in December--only almost 5 months ago. I miscarried our fourth child last month in very early pregnancy. I thought I was grieving well.

When I'm under emotional duress, I know I tend to retreat to find solitude. It's what I need. It's how I heal. But I haven't allowed much solitude lately and I'm still thinking about why that is.

I've worked with grieving people in my profession for the last 17 (!) years. Why does it surprise me, then, that my grief comes out as anger and irritability?

My Focus for the New Year....

2010-01-02T09:33:00.002-06:00

"Do not worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will take care of itself. Sufficient for a day is its own evil." Matthew 6:34

Thought for the day

2009-12-27T19:33:00.001-06:00

To say yes to God is to say yes to sacrifice.

Not as Mary Expected

2009-12-25T11:11:00.002-06:00

My Christmas Eve day did not go anything like I expected it to go.

Mom died 12 days prior. I had expected earlier in the year that she would be present at family Christmas gatherings. It was also the first Christmas without Grandpa.

After visitation and funeral and activities with family and shopping trips to prepare for Christmas and a trip to the cemetery to choose things for mom's marker, I was hoping for a quiet day at my sister's house making granola with her. Instead, I took my youngest to an immediate care clinic only to find out he had a double ear infection.

With still some potential remaining for a quiet afternoon, I found myself waiting for more than 45 minutes at Publix for an antibiotic script to be filled. I was not fuming, but rather disappointed that my Christmas Eve wasn't going as I had planned. I found some small amused comfort in the fact that the Pharmacist's name was Emmanuel. God With Me. At the pharmacy.

Arriving at church more than a half hour early, we found there was no room in the inn. To make our boys more comfortable, we decided to sit in the social gathering space and participate in mass via the television, if you could call it participate. My youngest was very busy and I ended up standing with him near the kitchen counter. Preparing myself mentally and prayerfully to receive Christ in the Eucharist, I was stunned as a woman left the communion line to ask me where I had gotten my necklace. So much for prayerful preparation. And I was saddened for Jesus.

Reflecting on all of these things throughout the day, I was reminded that Jesus' birth day didn't go the way Mary and Joseph had expected it to go, either. Yet He came to them.

As He came to me.

I am grateful.

My tribute to my mom at her funeral.

2009-12-19T17:54:00.000-06:00

I received many things from my mom.

The doors to our home were always open to others. Our home cared for three foster children named John, Megan, and a baby nicknamed “squeaky”. It was a safe place to live for a while for a teenager named Candy. It was a place to come for Sunday dinner and holidays for a man named Uncle Noel. It was the site for backyard vacation bible schools for numerous neighborhood children and friends. It housed overnight traveling church singing groups. Puppies were born in our home. Stray animals were cared for in our home. We stayed safe from even mild thunderstorms barricaded with food and all of our animals in the recesses of our basement.

When I was sick, mom set me up on the couch with pillows, magazines, and ginger ale. The humidifier was placed next to my bed, and mom would bring me honey lemon tea at night if I had a bad cough.

But most importantly, my home introduced me to Jesus. I remember asking my mom to lead me in a prayer at my bedside at the age of 8. The words I repeated after her invited Jesus into my heart and into my life. As a teen I would walk past my dad every morning sitting on the couch having his devotional time, his bible in his hands. As a family we helped a bible church on an Indian reservation in northern Wisconsin hold a vacation bible school outreach to the children who lived there.

I grew up knowing I was loved. I grew up learning it was important to love others and take care of people who were alone or didn’t have a place to go. I grew up knowing Jesus, and truly growing in my faith from little on.

The last years of her life, mom’s world became very small. It consisted of my dad, her family, and her doctors. God gave her a wonderful sense of adventure and passion for life, and she became imprisoned in her body and sometimes in her mind. I had many conversations with her where she would question the purpose of it all—“why me, why this, why now?” kinds of questions. She felt at times that she didn’t have any more to contribute to life or to others around her.

She is finally whole and healed. She is finally at peace and has finally found contentment.

I told her this, and I want you all to know, too, that…

Mom, your life DID make a difference. It made the most important difference there is to make, one that I pray my life makes to those around me—an eternal difference.

Because of your example, and dad’s example, and the foundation you gave me, my life has changed for eternity. And that foundation is being passed down to your grandchildren—that their lives might also be impacted for eternity.

God used you—all your strengths, and all your weaknesses—to impact me and others forever. I can only pray others say the same about me at the end of my life.

As I write this, the words to the hymn “It is Well With My Soul” are playing in my ears:

When peace like a river attendeth my way,

When sorrows like sea billows roll,

Whatever my lot, Thou hast tought me to say,

It is well, it is well with my soul.

And Lord haste the day when the faith shall be sight

The clouds be rolled back as a scroll

The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend

Even so, it is well with my soul.

Mom, THIS is your legacy to me. Thank-you.

How?

2009-06-30T05:32:00.001-05:00

How does one work to strengthen the virtue of humility?

I Want a Niche

2009-06-28T07:33:00.003-05:00

1Thessalonians 4:11 "...and to aspire to live a tranquil life, to mind your own affairs, and to work with your [own] hands, as we instructed you."

That's fine and dandy and all, and what I know I should strive for. But there's a part of me, the prideful part, that wants my own niche that others know belong only to me--where others say, "That is Chris's thing." I want to be known for something.

With everything I think of that I might be known for, I think of someone else I know that is also known for that. I'm a runner, but so are many others I know. We raise chickens, but so do others I know. Dh makes wine, but so do others I know. We live our faith, but so do many others (thankfully) I know. On and on and bla bla bla.

I want, as this verse exhorts, to be able to know that I am fulfilling the duties God is giving me and faithfully living out to know Him, love Him, and serve Him and to be content in that. Only in that.

It is a lifelong battle to beat the prideful self into submission and back into the wings as it constantly tries to take the stage. It takes so much energy to keep my heart turned toward him and my eyes fixed on eternity when there is so much distraction nearby and immediate satisfaction to be obtained.

Yet I take hope in the fact that I really WANT to live for Him and only for Him. That is where my desire lies, no matter how often I need to reorient myself.

I love you, Lord. Help me to love you more.

One of the highlights of my day....

2009-06-18T18:13:00.002-05:00

was finding this in my flower garden this morning:

Solitude

2009-06-16T05:16:00.001-05:00

"Solitude is not found so much by looking outside the boundaries of your dwelling, as by staying within." -- Thomas Merton

Flowers From My Boy

2009-06-09T20:16:00.002-05:00

Since he could walk, my second son has brought me flowers spontaneously. It warms my heart. Here are some wild phlox he brought me today:

For Monday, June 8

2009-06-08T13:41:00.004-05:00

Outside my window...the rain is falling off of the roof onto the deck. It is cold. Isn't this supposed to be June?

I am thinking...about how nice it would be if softball were called on account of rain tonight and we could all stay hunkered in with nowhere we need to go and nothing we need to do.

I am thankful for...so many things, but especially right now a roof over our heads, a sleeping baby, and older boys who are playing quietly together without fighting.

From the learning rooms...We will homeschool our 6th grader this coming fall. I'm trying to decide where the easiest place is to put our schoolbooks. I'm thinking of using a little black metal shelf right off of the kitchen for our daily books. I'm trying to resist having to add any more shelving. We'll see how that goes since I just went through all of our books hoping to make more room. I cleared one shelf. Sigh. I received the planner today that I'm going to use. I'm chomping at the bit to start laying out the year.

From the kitchen...On the menu tonight is a simple dish, but loved by my family and warm for this cold, dreary day: Mix cut-up chorizo sausage, a can of black beans, a can of seasoned diced tomatoes, and a jumbalaya rice mix. I might throw in a loaf of bread, too.

I am wearing...a lightweight white 3/4 sleeve hoodie with a teal tank underneath, and very pale aqua fine-wale cords.

I am creating...a training schedule for the marathon my running buddies and I are going to run in September.

I am going...nowhere today! Yay!

I am reading...nothing at the moment. I need to make a trip soon to the library.

I am hearing...the rain outside of the patio door, and the muffled sounds of the computer game Jedi Night that my older boys are playing.

Around the house...This week I need to scrub my bathroom and pantry floors. I need to sweep and mop my mudroom, wash the loveseat slipcover, and wipe down the ceiling and walls of the upstairs bathroom.

One of my favorite things...is treating myself to an extra cup of creamy, hot coffee on a rainy day in the later afternoon.

A few plans for the rest of the week... to prepare my house for the weekend guest we'll have, to do my 2-week menu plan and grocery shop, to get the bills caught up, and to make a trip in to the hobby shop of a nearby town where the boys have been begging to go for weeks now (shhhh! Don't tell them--it's a surprise!)

Here is picture thought I am sharing...

Be sure to visit Peggy for links to more daybooks.

A Brave, New World

2009-06-06T07:51:00.003-05:00

I'm thinking this morning about the new world my family and I are entering: the world of homeschooling. Specifically, I'm thinking about what it will take to stay focused on the goals we've set for our son, and on his learning.

It is an intimidating world of overachievers and, I sense at times, competition over what the children are learning and doing. It will require a LOT of prayer to refrain from joining in the craziness and to stay grounded in what's best for our family. Even if that seems mundane and ordinary to the outside world. Even if that means what we do isn't flashy or trendy (as far as the homeschool world goes).

There are tons of cool ideas for learning. It's easy to get caught up in the reading about all of the ideas. There are tons of cool activities for each and every subject. It's easy to get lost in the overdoing at the expense of relationship with Jesus and with each other.

I want simplicity. I want growth in my son's and my relationship with God and each other. I want to foster the love of learning. And I'm realizing more and more that what will help us with those goals is to be on our knees. Frequently throughout the day.

Prayer will be the essential foundation to our learning.

2009-06-05T05:40:00.003-05:00

Celebrate my joys...

My eldest graduated from fifth grade this week. He is developing into quite the young man.

Grieve my losses/disappointments...

I grieve that I am weaning. Baby is ready. I'm not so much.
I grieve my eldest will not step foot into his little school anymore, having moved on to the next level.
I grieve a serious illness of a close family member.
I grieve a relationship.

attend to my lonliness...

I hate that I will live with lonliness as long as we live on this earth. I am surrounded by people, yet do not feel completely connected with anyone. That true intimacy is evasive, probably because we were made for Intimacy and all other ways we seek to fill that space fall short. But it sucks.

sit with my questions...

How can I REALLY love others better? How can I grow in my denial of self and unconditional love of others?

confess my sins/shortcomings...

My focus of late has been too much on me and my needs for affirmation and acceptance. I don't like it.

One of the Privileges of Motherhood....

2009-05-20T21:01:00.002-05:00

...is holding my baby boy asleep in my arms with his head back and his arms hanging down, looking at the eyebrows he got from his daddy, his blonde hair all mussed, his mouth wide open, and kissing his plump, soft cheek feeling the warmth of his breath on mine.

Mother's Day

2009-05-10T20:04:00.002-05:00

Something happened at mass today. I was holding and bouncing my 9-month-old. He was just starting to get fussy after the homily. I was thinking about Mother's Day and what it means to be a mom and how much I need God's help to raise these boys to know Him. And I realized I wasn't paying much attention to the Nicene Creed we were reciting as a weekly statement of our faith. I forced my mind back to the meanings behind the words I was speaking. And I started saying it in my little one's ear.

As if I was teaching it to him. And I remembered I so desperately want all my children to know that creed. To KNOW that creed. And to know of whom it teaches. To KNOW of Whom it teaches.

And saying it like that--like a lesson to my little one's ear, made it vibrant once again, and so vital.

Kisses

2009-05-04T15:09:00.001-05:00

There is nothing like the feeling of wet kisses from a man (a 9-month old man) to lift one's spirits.

Inside Knowledge

2009-04-30T05:14:00.003-05:00

I love the little things around our house that make us a family--like the ugly gray and maroon coffee cup I'm drinking out of that says "Dental Associates" on it. I can't bring myself to part with it because my middle son bought it for me for a quarter from our parish rummage sale. His class went downstairs a couple of years ago to shop there as a reward.

He said he bought it for me because he knows how much I love coffee.

A gift with intention, unaided by any adult.

Farming Souls

2009-04-17T06:42:00.002-05:00

This is related to my recent meditation about my children. Check out this post at this beautiful blog by Ann at Holy Experience.

Motherhood

2009-04-15T21:28:00.002-05:00

Something I'm meditating on the last couple of days is an idea I read on someone's blog, or on one of the internet boards I'm part of:

Raising my children is not a detour, or a diversion, in my life that temporarily keeps me from my goals, it IS my life work.

Discipline

2009-04-06T20:48:00.001-05:00

I ran 11 miles the other day. It wasn't really fun, but I had to do it if I'm going to run the half marathon I registered for. And I was thinking that training for a run is a fitting activity for lent. It is sacrifice. It is discipline.

Then I was thinking about how discipline in one area of our life flows over into other areas--like how if I can make myself run 11 miles even if it doesn't feel the greatest, it's easier to have the discipline to pray when I don't feel like it, and vice versa.

I was listening the day before that run to a talk given by Fr. Larry Richards to the men of our diocese about a month ago. This was what stood out to me (actually, it smacked me in the middle of the forehead):

Which of us, if our children were being attacked, or if physical harm threatened to come to our spouse wouldn't step in to intervene, even lay down our life for our loved ones if necessary? Yet every day we leave our loved ones wide open to the enemy without protection. The enemy sneaks and prowls to destroy our families, and we are lazy, sitting on our butts, and too foolish or selfish to spend time in prayer to cover them. We say "I'm too tired", "I'll do it later", "I'll watch this tv show first", "Tonight's too busy, I'll do it tomorrow", "(you insert your excuse here)".

It's amazing what that visual image does to my motivation to pray more.

Lord, help me to be disciplined.

2009-04-02T14:22:00.008-05:00

"It’s important for moms to recognize that all the small successes in our days can add up to one big triumph. So on Thursday of each week, we do exactly that. "

1. I cooked my husband a birthday dinner complete with rhubarb pie for dessert and he felt loved.

2. I managed to get to stations of the cross with Mary this week with my 8-month-old in tow.

3. I kept the sap pan filled and the fire going for cooking it down while my husband was away at work.

What are your successes this week? This is a great exercise in holding ourselves accountable and patting ourselves on the back. Mothering and homemaking don't have built in performance reviews and bonuses. The internet can be a source of support and encouragement. Let's encourage one another in our small successes. Share them at Faith and Family Live!

2009-04-01T19:40:00.003-05:00

Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego to King Nebuchadnezzar: "There is no need for us to defend ourselves before you in this matter. If our God, whom we serve, can save us from the white-hot furnace and from your hands, O king, may he save us! But even if he will not, know, O king, that we will not serve your god or worship the golden statue that you set up." (emphasis mine)

But even if he will not.

Lord, give me the faith of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego.

25 random things about me...

2009-01-30T21:17:00.001-06:00

I was tagged on facebook to write 25 random things about me. Thought I'd put it here, too, because my husband is not on facebook and there may be things here that he may be interested to learn.

1. I love to go fast on the ground--cars, snowmobiles, ATVs--anything motorized.

2. I took a motorcycle class at the tech but never got my license because at the time I didn't know anyone I could enjoy going riding with.

3. I would love to be a school bus driver some day.

4. I seriously considered becoming a semi-truck driver in college (sense a theme here with motorized things?). I was too shy to talk on the CB so I ditched that idea.

5. Speaking of shy, I'm not anymore. I used to be painfully shy and quiet, though!

6. I have been present with several people at the exact moment of their death. It is a very sacred moment.

7. I haven't met an alcohol I didn't like.

8. I grew up Lutheran and Christian Reformed, attended a non-denominational church for about 20 years, and converted to the catholic faith 3 years ago. I have never felt closer to God than I do now.

9. I love to climb trees.

10. I don't like flying and think I would absolutely hate spelunking. I can't really think of any other phobias except maybe mucous. And that's not really a phobia--it just involuntarily triggers my gag reflex. And in the 15 years of hospice work I've done, I've had many people show me what they have spit/coughed up thinking I was the nurse instead of the social worker.

11. I'm a nerd in a pretty body. I like math and arctic expedition novels and historical fiction and graphs. (Ok--any other nerds reading this--don't get mad. I AM stereotyping, but not in a way that intends mockery)

12. I can not think of a single person I've ever met that I did not find something to appreciate. And I've met a lot of people. They are so interesting and I love their stories. I find it especially interesting to listen to the stories they choose to tell. I guess that's the social worker in me.

13. I would love to take a kayaking/camping trip along the shore of Lake Superior in Upper Michigan.

14. I really really like to shoot guns--any size, shape. The louder the better. I like to shoot my bow, too.

15. I would like to run a marathon once in my life just to say I did it.

16. I often think I'm dull.

17. Ever since I can remember (age 8 maybe?) I've sought to grow closer to God. Except for about 2 years in college, I can honestly say I've done that my whole life and continue to do so. When I get to heaven, I so want to hear, "Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been a woman after my own heart."

18. I'm running out of things about me. See--I knew I was dull. Just thought of something--I wear name brand clothes, but most are purchased at Goodwill, Saver's, or rummage sales.

19. I pray this prayer every morning: "Lord, I do not know what will happen to me today. I only know that nothing will happen that was not foreseen by you and directed to my greater good for all eternity. I adore your holy and unfathomable plans and submit to them with all my heart out of my love for you. Amen." A hospice patient many years ago dying of ALS asked me to say this prayer for him on his deathbed. He had me repeat it over and over for about 20 minutes until he fell asleep. He died 2 days later. I still think of him.

20. I find life is constant submission to God and practice in self-denial. Especially motherhood. And it is sooooo worth it. There is freedom in God's will.

21. I'm an excellent speler (ha! How many of you caught that?) and can actually visualize in my brain how a word is spelled. I once lost a 6th grade spelling bee in Mr. Herman's class with the word aspirin. I spelled it a-s-p-r-i-n. I've spelled it right ever since.

22. I love journals--not so much journalling, but the journals themselves. There is so much potential for a pretty journal, or one with nice crisp lines, or one with an embroidered leather cover. I have lots of empty ones just waiting for the right thing to journal about.

23. On a dreary, down day, give me a closet or cupboard to clean out and reorganize and I'm rejuvenated and happy.

24. I've never let a cigarette touch my lips. But I occasionally have dreams that I smoke, that I can feel the smoke going into my lungs when I inhale, and that I enjoy it in the dream. Weird. I have puffed on a cigar around a campfire on occasion, though.

25. I don't care for chocolate and I really dislike malts and hot fudge.

She left Samuel there.

2008-12-22T07:07:00.002-06:00

This sentence comes out of the first book of Samuel, chapter 1. Hannah prays to God for a baby and promises Him she would give the baby back to Him. After he was weaned (age 3? 4?), she brought Samuel to the temple of the Lord to fulfill her vow.

She. left. him. there.

As much as I say I know my boys belong to God, and not to me, I ask myself if I'm really all that good in living that out. Have I completely given them back to Him? How much do I unneccesarily hold on to?

Could I leave them there?

How can I hold on so tightly to someone who was never mine in the first place?

It's Not All About Numbers

2008-08-16T17:46:00.003-05:00

So many numbers lately:

6 hours of labor
2 hours of contractions every 3 minutes
2 long pushes
5lb15oz, 19 1/2 inches long
10 fingers, 10 toes
5 minutes of a first feeding
8-12 feedings a day
4-6 wet diapers
4-6 poop diapers
eating every 2-3 hours
nearly 2 weeks old
over 80 diapers so far
5 mg a day of coumadin
1000 mg a day of calcium

BUT lots that cannot be quantified:

the warmth of a little body next to mine
the light sweep of tiny fingertips on my ribs
the gentle sucking
the little hiccups
the desperate rooting of a hungry baby
the goofy faces and sounds of REM sleep
my husband's features in miniature
the amazement of a life in my arms that didn't exist over 10 months ago
the smiles of big brothers as they hold the new addition
God's provision of all we need, and some things we don't

Broken for Others

2008-03-20T06:38:00.003-05:00

My husband and I went to the Chrism Mass for our diocese on Tuesday this week. At this mass, the bishop blesses the Oils of the Sick and of the Catachumens, and consecrates the Sacred Chrism Oil. These oils are then taken back to the individual parishes in the diocese and used throughout the following year for the various sacraments. It was a beautiful, very reverent mass.

The Bishop's homily was about the Eucharist--the body and blood of Jesus. He talked about how Jesus' body was offered as a sacrifice, consecrated, and broken for us. As a people, when we take in the Eucharist at mass, we are united together as the Body of Christ--the Church. We offer ourselves, are consecrated through the Eucharist, and are meant to be broken for others. So we take the Eucharist into ourselves, and we become the Eucharist, in a sense, for others.

Today's gospel reading for Holy Thursday is the story of Jesus washing his disciples' feet at the Last Supper, and challenging them to serve others in the same way he served them.

And considering these two things, I ask myself.....am I serving others the way he did? All the way to the cross?

Do I allow myself to be "broken" for others? Especially for the dear, dear souls in my own household?

I have a long way to go.

Pity Party Ended

2008-03-16T20:08:00.002-05:00

Today on Palm Sunday the Christian faith embarks upon Holy Week, the week where we remember the events leading up to the death and resurrection of Jesus.

I especially appreciate now as a Catholic the liturgies of this week that bring such contemplation and solemnity to the greatest sacrifice ever made.

Yesterday I was on call for work as a hospice social worker. It was a very busy day. I ended up putting in over nine hours--3 hours on one visit alone!! As a result, I missed the dedication mass of our refinished church and new narthex. I was extremely disappointed as this was a mass our whole parish community has been looking forward to since last fall.

So I went to mass with that chip on my shoulder this morning. On top of that, our priest seemed to have started a couple of minutes early and I ended up sitting in the very back--it was hard to hear and no one sings. I was very crabby. And I was grumbling in my prayers about how it wasn't fair and that my house was messy and (poor me, poor me, poor me)--blecchh.

On Palm Sunday in the Catholic liturgy, the whole passion of our Lord is read--from the Last Supper to his death on the cross. And as I meditated upon that, and then received our Lord in the Eucharist and thought of his sacrifice for us--for me.......well, let's just say God straightened out my heart.

Grant me more humility, Lord. Thank-you for your redirection.

What Adventure Awaits Me Today?

2008-02-22T04:51:00.003-06:00

Here is the morning offering prayer I pray every morning:

Lord, I do not know what will happen to me today. I only know nothing will happen that was not foreseen by you or directed to my greater good for all of eternity. I adore your holy and unfathomable plans, and submit to them with all my heart out of love for you, the Pope, and the immaculate heart of Mary.

I'm a morning person. The start of a new day excites me--who will I meet? what will happen? what new things will I learn about myself or God? will my life be forever different at the end of this day? how will things change? how will they stay the same? will I make good decisions? will I succeed at fighting laziness and lack of motivation?

I know one day there will be a day that I wished had never happened--the death of one dear to me, I imagine. That doesn't excite me. I dread that actually.

But something about the fact of change and movement through life is the interesting part--that I will be a different person at the end of this day than I am now.

Lord, may my actions and my words be glorifying to you. May I not deny you in ways large or small.

Total Eclipse of the Heart

2008-02-21T04:29:00.003-06:00

Anyone remember that 80s song? I'm sure you understand that the reason it came to me was because of the gorgeous lunar eclipse last night. I was blessed to see it from my bed snuggled in, through my bedroom window.

It made me feel so small. (And then I kept thinking about the people living at the space station and how they weren't able to see it, but then not feeling too badly for them because they can see the beauty of the earth from space. But I digress....)

Definition of eclipse......n. 1.a. The partial or complete obscuring of one celestial body by another. b. The period of time during which such an obscuring occurs. 2. A decline into obscurity, disuse, or disgrace.

Interesting. If you think about an eclipse of the heart spiritually, based upon the definition, it could be a good event, or a bad event.

If I am completely obscured by Christ, then I will have attained the holiness and humility I pray for. (That's a long way away!) And it takes a period of time--it is a process.

If my heart goes through an eclipse based upon the second definition--a decline into obscurity, disuse, or disgrace--it is not good. Sometimes my heart does go there.

I pray my life is eclipsed by Christ. Because unlike the earth and the moon, He does not throw a shadow on me. He shines through me and is brighter than me on my own.

.......I've had a hiatus from blogging for a couple of months. I know my husband has faithfully checked in every day! It's been a quiet period....in a good way. We are well into the contemplative period of lent as we prepare ourselves for the great celebration of Easter.

And for those of you who don't know.....baby #3 is on the way. We are due in August. That is quite a story and another example of God's grace in our lives. Maybe I'll tell it sometime......

Peace.

we all want to be noticed by others

2007-12-07T06:04:00.001-06:00

I know my blog has been kinda quiet lately. I guess that's a good thing. It means I'm at peace inside. I often use writing to work out angst in my heart. So no angst......less writing.

Thanks for being faithful to check in.

Here's a link to a columnist that I love. He really speaks of heart issues that all of us experience but often don't know how to put into words. This column particularly spoke to me. Maybe it will to you, too:

http://www.ronrolheiser.com/columnarchive/archive_display.php?rec_id=384

Happy Advent!

Dressing Up

2007-12-02T18:35:00.000-06:00

The end of one of today's readings (from Romans 13: 11-14) says, "But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the desires of the flesh."

Do I consciously do this every morning as I start my day? Do I "put on" Christ? I need to be more diligent about doing this daily.

The problem is.....to put Him on, I either need to take self off, or put Him on over self. And too often I kinda like my self to show. Self is comfortable. It's easy. It's like a pair of jammy pants or broken-in blue jeans. I like the admiration I get for self sometimes. I want to take credit.

But the cool thing is.....if I'm diligent to put on Christ, it's a natural consequence that I make no provisions for the desire of the flesh. Because it's Christ I wear then and not myself. Self and all of its desires are left in the hamper. And even though I don't get credit, I'm more attractive to more people because God is love.

So I hope you don't see "me" tomorrow. I hope you see that I have dressed up and put on Christ.

Cross Standard

2007-11-30T20:27:00.000-06:00

With the feast last Sunday of Christ the King, and a women's conference I attended last week about being the daughter of the King, and watching a movie about Joan of Arc last week and the second Lord of the Rings movie (whew! long sentence), I've been thinking a lot about what it means to be a daughter of the King. And Kingship. And His kingdom.

I get to meet the King someday, maybe sooner than later. And this is not a stranger King, this is a King that I know!

And I got to thinking .....how do I want to dress to meet the King (hypothetically speaking, of course)? Would I want to be dressed in my fanciest, finest clothes, or would I want to be in my battle gear, my coat-of-arms, bearing His standard?

I was thinking that I would like to meet Him in my battle gear bearing his standard. And then I read this quote from the book, "The Secret Diary of Elisabeth Leseur." It is taken from a letter she wrote to her godson on the occasion of his first communion. She says,

"You ought not to be a laggard in the Christian army, but one of those stout-hearted leaders of men who encourage others and plant their standard--the cross--more or less everywhere in the world and in the souls of men."

Whoa. In my image of meeting the King, I'm carrying the standard in the form of a banner. But of course the King's standard is the cross. He promises us suffering for His sake on this earth. And we share in the suffering of Christ as the church militant.

It's just a more humbling image. I still want to bear his standard. But do I have the strength to bear it to the end if it is a cross??

One Alone

2007-11-26T05:47:00.000-06:00

We all long to be fully known and fully loved. Often we are disappointed and struggle with the conflicting emotions that ensue.

I found this quote in my devotion time this morning that encouraged me yet again toward God. Perhaps it will encourage you:

"We know that even our nearest friends enter into us but partially, and hold intercourse with us only at times; whereas the consciousness of a perfect and enduring Presence, and it alone, keeps the heart open. Withdraw the Object on which it rests, and it will relapse again into its state of confinement and constraint; and in proportion as it is limited, either to certain seasons or to certain affections, the heart is straitened and distressed.

If it not be overbold to say it, he who is infinite can alone be its measure; he alone can answer to the mysterious assemblage of feelings and thoughts which it has within it...

Life passes, riches fly away, popularity is fickle, the senses decay, the world changes, friends die. One alone is constant; One alone is true to us; One alone can be true; One alone can be all things to us; One alone can supply our needs; One alone can train us up to our full perfection; One alone can give a meaning to our complex and intricate nature; One alone can give us tune and harmony; One alone can form and possess us."

------Venerable John Henry Newman

A Fun Family Dance

2007-11-25T21:10:00.000-06:00

http://www.elfyourself.com/?id=9604479452

Taking Inventory

2007-11-24T13:13:00.000-06:00

Hullo. I know many people take inventory of their lives--personality, relationships, goals, fitness, financial state, etc--at the turn of the year. I am blessed (??) to be at the whim of my constantly churning mind which does a pre-scheduled (the schedule of which is unknown to me until it happens) accounting of all of the above. It did it this week. I suppose it was the combination of Thanksgiving and my birthday.

The inventory totals are still computing and configuring, but the preliminary results are out. Here are some of them:

I always tell my boys that no matter what, you can ALWAYS find something to be thankful for. Always. Even if it is that the day will end. I have SO MUCH to be thankful for. So much.

I need to work on fading away into the background. I know this seems paradoxical to say, but it is the only way that my needs are met and that there is peace in my heart. It's a mystery, I know. And a constant battle to push on to that spot. But to there I must go. To nobody land. There has been too much of me on parade lately.

I'm reminded that my first charge is to be a wife and a mother. It is also the place that gets me most quickly to nobody land if I'm doing that job right. So back to the grindstone with that.

Although I meet God intensely in some of the adventure and excitement of life, it is in the ordinary, mundane, everyday affairs that He takes his chisel to me to keep filing off the rough edges. I need to stop fidgeting and sit patiently so He completes His work in all faithfulness.

We all suffer. I want to be even better at encouraging others in the midst of theirs, in spite of my own.

And finally albeit more lightly in some ways, I'm reminded how much I love to run. It reminds me of the gift of my health. I imagine the breeze on my face as the physical touch of God. And I want to keep doing it for as long as I can. I'm only in my middle late 30s, for Pete's sake, so I will continue to go. (Did 5 miles today in low 30-degree weather--starting to brace for the real winter cold. Next goal at this point is a half marathon in St. Louis in April. We'll see.)

Thank-you, God for my faith. For my family. For my friends. For all of the random strangers you put into my life that teach me things about humanity and about myself. Let's go for another 37 years, shall we?

Thanksgiving Day

2007-11-22T17:13:00.000-06:00

My family is fed. The day has been relaxing. I have so many things and people to be thankful for. There is peace in my home.

Where, then, is the peace in my heart?

God Redeems Our Weakness

2007-11-10T07:24:00.001-06:00

Whew! What a week. I was so emotionally exhausted this week, I couldn't bring myself to blog. Even if I could, words would not have done it justice. Suffice it to say, I had some very profound experiences through work.

Anyway, during my devotion time this morning, I found a meditation I had torn out of a book last year and placed in the cover of the book I picked up this morning. For some reason the thoughts struck me today again and I wanted to share parts of it here. I cannot take credit for the thoughts. It was written by a man named Father Jacek Buda. He starts of talking about the color gray being the color of dullness. And then he goes on:

"The problem is located somewhere between great sin and great love, in the vast haze of imperfect friendships, unfulfilled promises, incomplete victories, plans delayed to infinity. It is a constant, omnipresent weakness, an endless capacity for mediocrity. Our dreams rarely come true--and when they do, they are just a pale shadow of what we expected. Our loves and friendships, though intense and full of promise, are also fragile and full of deception. How many times have we caught ourselves trying to possess or to manipulate other people? How many times have our prayers for others been nothing more than showing off for ourselves? What scares us the most is the suspicion that this is all it means to be human.

....This means that the way to get out of the gray is not to be afraid of it. If we accept our life, our loves and friendships and our work for what they are, and if we have the courage to receive them with all talent and energy, then past the haze of mediocrity, boredom, and even suffering, I will see Christ. Christ's humanity is not a limitation or an embarrassment; it is the way in which God chose to save his creatures. His cross is not a failure; it is his victory and hope for us. Christ is the Son who became man so that 'the Father may see and love in us what he sees and loves in Christ.' Thanks to him I don't have to be afraid of my weaknesses and limitations. As long as I don't give up, I am on the road to him."

My thoughts now (to myself as I strive to progress along the continuum of loving ever more purely and less selfishly)......

Examine your relationships. How do you use even good things to pull to have needs met for yourself that should be met through God first? In those ways you are not loving purely, unconditionally.

God, help me with this.

(I'm sick of praying this prayer and look forward to heaven when I won't need to pray it any more!!!)

A Day of Battle

2007-11-01T21:11:00.000-05:00

Whew. I'm spent. I feel like I've battled all day. I have, actually. More on that in a bit.

A lot going on in my head and heart today.

Today is the celebration of All Saints' Day in the Catholic Church: http://www.wf-f.org/AllSaints.html. So in my devotion time this morning, I ran across this statement......"The saints are true realists; they take seriously the hopelessness of man as it is and do not seek a refuge from the present in the future. They get on with the job in spite of everything and hope against hope."

What does the author mean by "a refuge from the present in the future?" When I think of the future as a refuge, I think of the hope of heaven. But the way this author is using it, he seems to be saying that it is not a good thing to take refuge in the future....so he can't be talking about heaven. Any ideas? I guess the gist of what he is trying to say is that the saints were present with people in their difficulties, in the moment of their difficulties.

That "in the moment" theme again. My theme for 2007. And and probably for 2008.

Now for the battle. I've struggled with self all day today. But it didn't feel like the usual struggles. It felt like a continuous unrelenting onslaught all day long, where I needed to consciously throughout the day forcefully change the direction and content of my thoughts. They came unsolicited, and I fought them off, some more quickly than others. Arrrggh.

Are there ever days where you feel you are a focused target of the enemy? Where it feels like his mission for that day is to throw so many things your way that at times it almost seems easier to give in than to keep fighting? That was my day. And of course when that happens, you hear his voice saying things like, "See? You are sinful. Why even bother trying?" and "Just give up. You know I'm going to win in the end."

So then you add in the fight against the deceitful messages on top of the rest of the battle and sometimes it makes one just want to retreat.

With that in the background, I made a hospice visit at the end of the day. This particular woman is declining. I would be surprised if she was still living in a couple of weeks. And she is a dear. I feel like I've made a friend in the few short weeks I've been visiting her. Today she slept through most of my visit so I talked with her family.

I grabbed her hand to wake her to tell her I was leaving. Her eyes flew wide open, she grabbed my hand in a death grip and said, "You can't leave me." Now she has been feisty and known to have a sense of humor, so to lighten what I saw in her face to be a very serious statement, I asked with a smile, "You want me to stay with you ALL of the time?" And still very serious, she responded, "yes, I do."

Well I told her I couldn't do that.....not that I didn't WANT to (genuinely). I said even though I couldn't stay with her physically through the weekend, I told her I would be with her constantly through my prayers. I asked her what she wanted me to pray for. "That it be over soon."

With assurances looking intently into her brown eyes that I would be back on Monday, I pryed her hands from mine finally and walked out the door.

And I cried. Sad to be losing a new friend so soon. Sad for her struggles and uncertainties. Sad that I couldn't just move in with her for the weekend.

I found a quiet spot to park and pray for her. And I was infuriated that the enemy had not called a cease-fire and continued to assault me--during my prayers! And then the messages came like "You can't even focus to pray for this dying woman." I finished my prayers, albeit exhausted.

Hopefully tomorrow I will be stronger in battle.

A Puzzler

2007-10-29T21:44:00.000-05:00

I get paid to do this?

I visit a certain elderly woman on our hospice services weekly. She is frail elderly and lives alone. Her mind is never at rest. She worries about lots of things, and worries about worrying.

A visitor brought her a puzzle and challenged her to finish it in a week, "and I don't want to hear that you had help!" She said the visitor thinks it will keep her mind off of her illness and prevent her from becoming depressed.

She balked. I encouraged. She made excuses. I said I'd just get the 500 puzzle pieces out of the box for her and laid on the table face up. She consented to that.

And she wobbled over and stood a few seconds watching me. And then she sat and watched me for a few minutes. Soon we were both picking at pieces trying to find matches with her muttering all the while, "I never had the patience for these things" and "this is making my hands cramp up."

It led into a wonderful conversation about her life and the hard worker she has always been and how she can't remember if she ever did anything to relax. Her mind never rests.

But it did for those 15 or so minutes while we chatted and worked on the puzzle.

As did mine.

It reminded me of a conversation I had earlier in the day with another woman about Psalm 46:10.....Be still and know that I am God.

Many years ago another woman I met through hospice made a cross stitch for me that still sits on my windowsill in my living room. It is a meditation of Psalm 46:10. Here is what it says:

Be still and know that I am God.

Be still and know that I am.

Be still and know.

Be still.

Be.

I was "being" with the woman and her puzzle today. And it felt right. There was no where else that I should have been at that moment.

To be or not to be. Is that the question? No. It is the choice.

Hypocrisy at the Bedside

2007-10-22T21:54:00.000-05:00

I was visiting with my favorite woman on our hospice services right now. She's always been independent and spunky, even into her later years. Now she needs assistance getting out of her hospital bed and is dependent upon others for even basic needs.

She is struggling with her dependence. She has been the one through the years to care for others. Now she is the recipient. Her family wishes she didn't struggle so much with this. So we had a discussion about how she could see their care as an expression of their love for her now, and that if the shoe was on the other foot, she knows how much she would love to help them, and to let them help her as her body gives out on her.......yada, yada, yada.

I'm a hypocrite. I struggle myself with accepting care and help from others. I imagine I would feel the same way as she if I were laying in the bed in her place.

I think if we were two kids talking, she would say to me, "yeah? Well your words bounce off of me right back to you!"

So if I'm going to encourage her in this, I guess I have to work on it myself.

What's the Differing Factor?

2007-10-21T20:02:00.000-05:00

I think I've mentioned before that our family watches Extreme Makeover: Home Edition together every week.

Some of the families they choose have some major struggles yet continue to give to others.

It makes me wonder.....what makes some people who suffer reach out to help others while other people who suffer enter into despair??

Weeding My Life

2007-10-20T19:03:00.000-05:00

I weeded my flower garden today.....half of it, anyway. There were lots of weeds. Between them and the cutting back of plants for the fall, I filled 5 wheelbarrows full of yard waste, and spent 5 hours working. It was satisfying work. And it's work that I can see the result of right away. Things went from chaos to order in that short time period.

So I was talking to God about this as I weeded. I wondered why the sin in my life couldn't be more like the easy weeds that come out smoothly. Unfortunately, it is more like the huge weeds. Even though I make sure to gather all of the branches in one bunch, I pull and heave and heave and pull and nothing happens.

So I take the hand held pointy hoe and hack at the tap root. I hack and hack and hack and loosen dirt. Then I heave and pull. And back I fall onto my butt with the tap root still in the ground, leaving a promise of a return of the weed. Grrrr.

God, you are the master gardener. Why does it have to be such a long process? Why do you leave the tap root in my heart so that the sin isn't completely gone?

I'm not patient......another "weed" for God to work on. I can't do it.

Sign, Sign, Everywhere a Sign

2007-10-20T05:39:00.000-05:00

For those of you not from the midwest, you are probably not familiar with the occasional signs posted in the rural home's front yard. They say things like, "eggs for sale", or "Rabbit for sale--fresh or frozen", or "firewood for camping $2.50/bundle", etc.

Last night we were driving to a pole barn party. It was early evening, the sun was starting to set. We drove along hilly, curvy country roads for about 45 minutes admiring the hues of the leaves, especially the top where the setting sun set the colors on fire.

We drove by a two-story white farmhouse. The barn was closer to the road than the house. The lawn was neatly trimmed, and a sign was posted on the lawn between the barn and the road. It said in handpainted red letters on a white background, "Hickory smokeing blox".

I said to my husband:

"I can understand spelling "blocks" like "blox" because it is more efficient. But "smokeing" is obviously spelled wrong, so it makes me wonder if "blox" is an intentional misspelling, or if the person who made the sign is just a really bad speller."

My husband replied the sign didn't make him wonder that. Hmmphf.

Sometimes it's easier to wonder those kinds of things than think about what's really going on inside my head.

And for a midwest classic......we drove by a cheese store/country store. It wasn't open. Instead of displaying the usual "Closed" sign, on the marquee was the word "SHUT".

It made me chuckle. "The store is SHUT," I said to my husband, "Not closed--SHUT!"

I think I need more sign diversions.

Slothing

2007-10-16T17:09:00.000-05:00

Can sloth be made into a verb like slothing? That's what I was doing today. Oh I got 3 loads of laundry washed, and 8 loads folded. I balanced the checkbook. I got e-mails and duties caught up. I unloaded and loaded the dishwasher. I watched my dear goddaughter for a while.

But

I

am

slothing,

aka

feeling

very

slothful.

Maybe it's the dreary, rainy fall day. Maybe it's the feeling of lonliness that set in today for no apparent reason. (I'm always amazed one can feel lonely in the midst of people.) Maybe it was the ordinariness of the day......constant fighting with myself not to seek excitement anywhere other than God.

For the most part in that way it was a successful day. Nothing like a little fasting and abstinence in some way to remind the self that there is more to life than this one.....that there is HOPE coming, even if the time of it is uncertain.

I think heaven will be no more fighting against the tendency towards discontentment of the heart. Self will be put in its place in heaven.

How far is it, anyway???

A Childless Blanket

2007-10-12T21:53:00.000-05:00

My oldest son is gone to a sleepover tonight.

Tucking my youngest in, I looked over at my oldest's bed. Lying on the floor next to his bed was his blanket. We really can't call it a blanket anymore. And it can't even qualify for a rag. It's a bunch of batting with unrecognizable fabric connected with scraps of zigzag stitching after many mending sessions. But he gets mad if we call it a rag.....so blanket it is.

He sleeps with it every night. It panged my heart to see it lying there. He's too embarrassed now to take it to his friend's house because none of his friends have a blanket anymore (so they say). Now he ventures off without it.

I can't even begin to tell the memories associated with that blanket. When one day he discards it completely, it will get put into his memory box....if only because I won't be able to part with it.

It's going too fast.

I Finally Have Some Thoughts That You May Find Interesting....I Think.

2007-10-11T21:20:00.000-05:00

If you're reading this, I'm amazed! I've been a delinquent blogger of late, mainly because I haven't felt inspired, or I've been busy, or everything I have to say I think is only interesting to me.

My job as a hospice worker always manages to teach me something. Everyday I work. I see so many examples of self-sacrificing love that I feel put to shame. It's like someone takes my face between their hands and wrenches it from my inward stare to force me to look around me. And consider.

Like what would it be like to be fairly sure your husband will be gone in less than 6 months and to be planning a trip across the country because he wants to go.....setting aside all of your fears of being away from other family members or of what might happen on the road that you won't have the tools to deal with. Yet you go forward with your plans anyway because the person you love more than anyone else in the world wants to go with you one last time before you die.

And what kind of intimate memories you are creating with the aunt you are caring for who is widowed and has no children while your sister is 1500 miles away caring for your own mother who has significant disabilities. And your aunt has always been fiesty and independent and now you share much more than your humor and affection. She needs you to help with her very basic personal cares. Your relationship has changed forever.

And what kinds of things family members do to each other that cause so much hurt and pain that 20 years later it is impacting the family's ability to provide calm, organized cares. I cannot imagine.

Everyday I am reminded of my mortality. And most days I choose to live in denial of it.

But I live in enough of the reality that I feel guilt when I don't do and say things I should do or say if this were my last day on earth.

Like thank-you. I love you. I forgive you.

Dorothy Had It Right

2007-10-07T20:26:00.000-05:00

.....there's no place like home.

I spent a wonderful weekend with a friend of 22 years (why does that make me feel so old?)

I went to a conference and came home affirmed and supported and encouraged in my role as wife and mother.

I came home to a clean house--laundry done, bathroom cleaned (some of you heard about how disgusting my toilet was!!), the mudroom straightened, the kitchen/family room picked up, and a couple of little cards placed about the house for me to find. My boys came running and squealing to the back door when I walked in and gave me some big hugs. AND there was homemade apple pie and hotwings in the oven--Mmmmmmm! It made for a wonderful homecoming. I felt very loved.....and so did my husband! :)

________________________________________

Today is Respect Life Sunday. On my way home, I went through a small town. The streets and the corners were lined with people standing silently, holding signs that said, "Abortion kills babies." Several had their eyes closed and their lips were moving in prayer. I couldn't help give them a thumbs-up sign and make the sign of the cross as I drove by them to show them I was united to them in prayer.

I was so proud of my brothers and sisters and their stance against something so horrible.

May God have mercy on our country. And on the innocent babies who die every day.

I Miss You, Grandma....

2007-10-04T21:25:00.000-05:00

Someone called me feisty tonight. That word totally reminds me of you, grandma. When someone asked you how you were, you always replied, "Oh, fat and sassy!"

I still really, really miss you, grandma. I miss the sparkle in your eyes, how you'd say "I love you, Chrissy", how your love for me was always unconditional.

I miss your feistyness. I miss your loyal unwavering love for your family and the glue that you were for all of us.

I miss how you would scrunch up your face and circle a clenched fist in the air to show the fight in you.

I miss how you would belt out your favorite songs at church, especially "How Great Thou Art." Your voice could be heard above all others!

I miss your listening ear and the pragmatic advice that always grounded me.

I miss how you'd say when looking right into my eyes dreamily with your chin propped on your hand, "Honey, you're so cute. You're such a good granddaughter."

And your favorite saying pops into my mind and onto my lips frequently: "That's the way it goes."

I miss you so much.

But you were wrong about something. Something else you'd always say......"It's a great life if you don't weaken." I respectfully disagree. It's a great life even if you DO weaken. And I saw you live that out as you weakened.

I hold you close to my heart always.

Love,

Chrissy

The Headless Chicken Dance

2007-10-03T11:31:00.000-05:00

(Warning--you may interpret the imagery in the next paragraphs as graphic. Do not tell the animal rights people.)

Life whizzes by so fast sometimes. We all run around like chickens with their heads cut off. We all know the saying. Have any of you ever seen a chicken do that? I have.

After they are decapitated they go running willy nilly in any random direction and sometimes bounce off an obstacle. Their legs go fast and their wings flap until eventually (it doesn't take long) they fall over onto their side and lay there flapping and quivering until the quivering slows and ceases altogether.

Now picture about 50 chickens like that (for the record, I've not seen that!). I think it's a good description of our society.

I know I was made for a purpose. I know most times I have direction and my eyes fixed on eternity. But some days I just feel like a chicken whose head was suddenly removed. I feel like I'm at high speed running from or towards I-don't-know-what because my eyes in my head are laying on the ground and not attached to my body. And everyone around me is doing the same.

And we bounce off each other, say "hi" and "blurti-blurt-blurt" in a moment of quick impact before we crash into the next body. Eventually we fall over. I've not fallen over yet. But I want to. So here's the next thought.....

Part of me wishes I could fall over to get out of the random crazy blind chicken dance. But part of me feels if I do, I will be forgotten and replaced. And no one else in the midst of their chicken dance would even notice that Chris Chicken is not running around with them or bumping into them any more. I feel I'm easily replaced by a new bumper chicken. (At least maybe the new bumper chicken will have bigger breasts. Ahem.)

Sigh. Sing with me everyone.....(making chicken beak movements with your hands and flapping wings with your elbows. It's a Wisconsin wedding custom, doncha know!)....."nah-nah nah-nah nah-nah nah......"

Answered Prayer, but.....

2007-10-02T13:02:00.000-05:00

I pray for humility, Lord, and you answer me. Thank-you.

......but bleccchhh.

But thank-you.

Fast or Feast

2007-10-01T20:50:00.000-05:00

I was listening to a replay of Archbishop Fulton Sheen today on Relevant Radio. Are any of you old enough to remember watching him in black and white on television? I'm not....but I heard it was so! It's amazing how pertinent his talks are even today, some 40-50 years later.....even the talks about communism. Anyway.......

He uses a lot of analogies. I know I've said this before, but I love analogies. Today he was saying that there are two philosophies by which people live their lives.

One philosophy is to fast first and feast later.

The other philosophy is to feast first, and then a hangover.

I thought about these two philosophies throughout the day. It (hopefully) is obvious that the first philosophy is the call of the christian lifestyle. We (ideally) deny self, deny feeding and filling ourself, with the hope of the banquet in heaven on which we fix our eyes.

The other philosophy has a much more immediate satisfaction, but it is deceiving and temporary in its pleasure, and has painful consequences.

How do we instill the desire for the first philosophy into our children? How does the call to a life of delayed fulfillment compete with the glitz and glam of what the world has to offer? How do we teach them that the reward in heaven which they cannot see or touch is worth so much more than the instant pleasures in this life? How do they learn the value of suffering?

Lord, do not cease to pursue the hearts of my children.

Sacrifice

2007-10-01T05:38:00.000-05:00

We all get discouraged when we fail. I've been more disgusted with myself lately. I just asked God the other day, "God, how is it that my focus goes from outward to inward in an instant?....not knowing it has happened until the retrospect?"

This is what I am constantly submitting to God through prayer, through fasting, through self-discipline and self-denial. It will take a lifetime to kill the selfish nature in me. I cannot wait until heaven for this reason. The effort is exhausting and sometimes overwhelming.

I read some things this morning that encouraged me. St. Therese of the Child Jesus (1873-1897) was talking with St. Therese of Lisieux (who died in 1897) about what it meant to be the greatest. St. Therese of the Child Jesus said:

"To be little is not attributing to oneself the virtues that one practices, believing oneself capable of anything, but to recognize that God places this treasure in the hands of his little child to be used when necessary; but it remains always God's treasure. Finally, it is not to become discouraged over one's faults, for children fall often, but they are too little to hurt themselves very much."

I can easily fall into the trap of discouragement and focusing on my failures. But by God's grace and mercy I get up and continue on.....knowing I will fall again but not wanting to. Any good in me is only because of God. Because I know I cannot do it myself. I'm reminded of that over and over again.

The other thing I read was about how love is nourished only by sacrifices. This makes sense, doesn't it, in light of the cross? Consider these statements:

"Love is nourished only by sacrifices...If one is completely dedicated to loving, one must expect to be sacrificed unreservedly. I have no other means of proving my love for you, O Lord, other than not allowing one little sacrifice to escape, not one look, one word, profiting by the smallest things, and doing them through love...In suffering and combat one can enjoy a moment of happiness that surpasses all the joys of this earth." (St. Therese of Lisieux)

and

"Human existence is a consuming of oneself 'for' something. This is the human being's greatness. Happiness comes through sacrifice. And the more one accepts this, the more one experiences a greater completeness already in this world." (Msgr. Luigi Giussani)

Sigh. It's a constant ideal to strive for, falling far short every day. But God, that's what I want to be like.

How long will it take? Have I made ANY progress at all?

Just Some Saturday Afternoon Meanderings of the Mind

2007-09-29T15:37:00.001-05:00

I know I've been praying for humility, but I don't really want God to answer this prayer.

God gave me the gift (??) of being able to analyze things. It made me good at math. I was good at drafting--I was going to be an architect. It has made me a good counselor in hospice work. Sometimes it makes me a good partner in a relationship.

Do any of you have this gift (??)? You may have this gift (??) if you have ever had people over the course of your life say things to you like:

"Lighten up!"

"You think too much."

"You need to let loose a little and be more fun."

and (in response to a question)..."I don't know. I guess I never really thought about it before."

Sometimes I feel abnormal, but then when I think about the word abnormal, I realize it really isn't an accurate word because I don't know what "normal" is because all I know is what I know--not other people's "normal". Sigh.

Today this gift (??) is driving me batty. I'm sick of myself. I wish I could kick myself out and have a break from myself. Self--get out!...................it didn't work.

It all ties in with humility. I'm thinking about a way I have let some friends down. There's really no resolution outside of deeper humility, more strict hiding of self, and greater selflessness and humility on my part. The thing I keep thinking about is that I know I will fail and disappoint again and that I don't like how I feel and that God is actually answering the prayer I prayed to him to be more humble. Gaaah!

(side note: be careful what you ask God for in prayer)

But I'm just plain sick of thinking and turning this around in my head.

I wish I was like someone who'd say, "Just let it go. Let it roll off your back."

So as an act of the will I now say, "Thank-you, God. And continue to make me more like you. Purify my heart. Give me the strength and grace to love others as you love them, and let it not be about how I want to be loved."

A Pot Dares to Critique the Potter

2007-09-28T18:43:00.000-05:00

I've been thinking about this statement from a book I'm reading:

"But just as God gives different kinds of faces to people and not one single type of face, so He gives different kinds of occupations and not one."

I'm sorry, Lord, but sometimes I wish I had a different face, or different ability, or someone else's gifts. Other gifts sometimes seem so much more dynamic, or charismatic, or attractive. I think, "if only I was like so and so, people would like me more."

Such pride......such arrogance.

Forgive me, God, for my dissatisfaction with how you made me at times. You know I've come a long way in this. It's been one of those days. I seem so ordinary at times. Help me to be content in my vocation and abilities.

I'm reminded of one of my favorite scriptures as I think about this: "But who indeed are you, a human being, to talk back to God? Will what is made say to its maker, 'Why have you created me so?' Or does not the potter have a right over the clay, to make out of the same lump one vessel for a noble purpose and another for an ignoble one?" Romans 9:20-21

I stand reprimanded. You, God, are the potter. I am the clay. I have no right to say to you, "I don't like the common use you made me for. I don't like your artistry...your creativity. Why don't you remove that ridge from this spot, and add a splash of color over there. I'd rather look more like that pot over there."

Who am I that I dare to critique the work of your hands?

What's that old bumper sticker saying ... "....God don't make no junk"??

Put this pot on a shelf Lord that all who see it may glorify you and praise you as the artist. Let me reflect a part of your infiniteness to the world around me.

Lord, I'm Not Worthy

2007-09-27T19:53:00.000-05:00

I experienced God in many ways today:

Through the forgiveness of a 7-year-old when I asked his apology for hollering at him this morning;

In the observing of love of a niece who came over 2000 miles to stay for three weeks to care for her dying aunt;

Listening to the passion spill out of a friend's heart regarding her vocation;

In the quiet coolness and sweet smells of a twilight bike ride alongside a 9-year-old.

Aauuuhhhtumn.

2007-09-26T19:52:00.000-05:00

I love this time of year. It's the time of year where God takes out his paint brush and begins to color the landscape of the upper midwest--first with delicate detail....a little color here....another color there....then with broad, sweeping strokes as the passion of His painting grows.

You've heard the saying, "You can't see the forest for the trees." In spring, summer, and fall, you can't see the trees for the forest. Unless you look carefully at the landscape, the trees don't really stand out from each other. They are often one mass of differing shades of green.

Not in autumn. You can't see the forest for the trees. You lose the larger picture as the trees spotlight themselves. It's almost as if you meet them for the first time:

"Well, hello, Mr. Majestic Red Pine. You look mighty fine against that backdrop of yellow and red! I didn't know you lived there!"

"Why Mr. Blue Spruce. I had no idea how blue you really were!"

"Mrs. Burning Bush. Really. Do you need to be so flagrant?"

"I must say, Mrs. White Pine....your needles are looking especially soft today."

"Good day to you, Maple Family. Are you going for the fluorescent-orange look of the 80s this year? It's very becoming next to the red!"

Not only do the trees begin to pop out, but the painted landscape surrounding the straw-color of corn still standing in the field makes one want to don a flannel shirt and sit down next to a campfire with a cup of hot cocoa.

I love autumn.

("You made the moon to mark the seasons, the sun that knows the hour of it's setting...How varied are your works, Lord! In wisdom you have wrought them all....May the glory of the Lord endure forever; may the Lord be glad in these works!" ---from Psalm 104)

Pic from the Half Marathon

2007-09-26T10:48:00.000-05:00

Thought you'd like to see an action shot of me approaching the finish line of my first ever half marathon. My eyes are closed. I think I'm praying to make it to the finish!

I'm already looking forward to a long race again next year. Maybe I'll go for a full marathon.

For All The Dear Women in my Life--This quote is for you!

2007-09-24T20:59:00.000-05:00

One of my favorite authors is G.K. Chesterton. I love his wit, his wisdom, his knowledge, his faith (did you know he was a convert to catholicism??), his dry humor, and his plays on words.

Anyway, I found this cool quote by him today and thought I'd post it to all of the dear women in my life. It spoke to me in a moment of feeling overwhelmed with all of my many and varied duties (paragraph breaks added by me for ease of reading):

"...I cannot, with the utmost energy of imagination, conceive what they mean. When domesticity, for instance, is called drudgery...the difficulty arises from a double meaning in the word. If drudgery only means dreadfully hard work, I admit the woman drudges in the home--as a man might drudge at the Cathedral of Amiens or drudge behind a gun at Trafalgar.

But if it means that the hard work is more heavy because it is trifling, colorless and of small import to the soul, then, as I say, I give it up; I do not know what the words mean. To be Queen Elizabeth within a definite area, deciding sales, banquets, labors, and holidays; to be Whitely within a certain area, providing toys, books, cakes, and boots; to be Aristotle within a certain area, teaching morals, manners, theology, and hygiene, I can understand how this might exhaust the mind, but I cannot imagine how it could narrow it.

How can it be a large career to tell other people's children about the Rule of Three, and a small career to tell one own's children about the universe? How can it be broad to be the same thing to everyone, and narrow to be everything to someone? No, a woman's function is laborious; but because it is gigantic, not because it is minute. I will pity Mrs. Jones for the hugeness of her task; I will never pity her for its smallness."

----G. K. Chesterton, from his book, "What's Wrong with the World"

YOU GO, GIRLS!!! YOU ARE MADE IN GOD'S IMAGE!!

YOU ROCK!!!

I did it!!!

2007-09-23T20:08:00.001-05:00

Today I ran my first-ever half marathon!! I completed it in 2:15:05. Not too bad considering the longest I've ever run is 10 miles, and that back in June before an overuse injury!

I'm excited!!

And I'm pooped! I'm off to bed....

Touching Someone Touching the Next World

2007-09-20T21:10:00.000-05:00

Ever have a conversation with someone with one foot in this world, and one in the next?? (And I don't mean a bleary-eyed, non-morning person, either!)

I had one today. It always intrigues me.

Today upon arrival at a home, the family was telling me how their mom (a hospice patient) had been hallucinating all day. When I inquired about details, they said she'd been talking to family members who had died years ago. She would reach into the air and grab at nothing (seemingly).

She kept asking, "Who did that?" Her kids could not get out of her what "that" was. And the patient, we'll call her M, became agitated when they would not tell her and kept trying to get her to explain herself. M just kept repeating her question. I said, "M, we don't know who did that." And she settled back into her pillow, staring at me but not at me, and said, "God did that." And a slight smile came over her face. And then she said, "do you hear that?" And I replied, "What do you hear?" M said, "it's beautiful." And by then her daughter had caught on and was supporting her in conversation instead of trying to get M to explain herself.

I know she was hearing things and seeing things that I could not hear and see. And to kneel below her, holding her hand looking up into her face and glazed eyes gave me the goosebumps. To be that close to someone so close to the next world awes and fascinates me.

One cannot be a hospice worker and believe this life is all there is.

A bit later in the visit at a more lucid moment, I said to M....."remember the past few weeks how you've been telling me that you are ready to go home to Jesus and that you don't know why He has not taken you yet?....well I think you're gonna get to meet him soon. And to tell you the truth, M, I'm a little envious."

Her little smile was priceless.

An Idyllic Day

2007-09-19T19:28:00.000-05:00

Just for the record, not every day is like this, lest you think I live a charmed life. Well, actually, I DO live a charmed life, but not every day is like this......

3 women. 3 kayaks. 1 pick-up truck. A couple of beers and lunch.

Floating without sound except the occasional splash of paddles, or the patches of rapids and rocks.

Clear water. Sandy bottom. 5 painted turtles. An assortment of fish. A great blue heron. 2 bald eagles. An albino great blue heron? 3 mallards. Another unidentifiable bird watching us drift by. (Next time: binoculars and a bird book)

Beached on the right bank. Egg salad and spinach sandwiches with onion and garlic cheese. Fresh mango. Trail mix. A toffee bar. A diet wild cherry Pepsi. A self-picture with the camera propped on a rock.

Portage around one tree. Limbo under another. Rock the kayak over a third. Hopping out to free oneself from the occasional sandbar or rock.

Laughter. Silent companionship. Pulling up to home. A relaxed drive back to the truck.

BLTs for supper. A good friend visiting at home. Examining dh's workshop in the barn. Burning a massive hornet's nest out of a fallen tree.

Soccer practice. Three laps around the park for a run=4.4 miles. The crunch of fine gravel under feet. Rhythmic breathing. Strong legs. Soft ground.

Home. A hot shower. Kissing boys goodnight. A cup of tea. Cool, cotton sheets.

Contentment. Fullness of heart.

Thanks, Father Joel!

2007-09-18T20:14:00.000-05:00

I listened to a homily today of a friend of ours. He was ordained to the priesthood in July. At his inaugural mass, he spoke about God's call on our lives (the theme of the scripture readings for that day....which, for you non-catholics.....run on a 3-year cycle in the liturgy. So they are "pre-set", so-to-speak. Coincidence? I think not!).

Anyway, he said he realized in seminary that he was waiting for this big moment where he would choose to be a priest in answer to God. In reality, he found that he answered this call daily. Every morning when his alarm went off at 5:15 for morning prayer and mass, he had the choice to get out of bed or to sleep in. He chose to get up. When he met someone who was suffering, he had the choice to listen to them or not. He chose to listen.

So he was answering God's call to him, but sometimes moments at a time, day to day. And it got me to thinking that often I strive and pray to grow spiritually to a certain image I have in my mind of how I should be. Or I think about what God will call me to in the future. And I forget the here and now. And that God calls me daily....even several times a day.

Do I choose to clean the house for my family, or piddle away time on the computer? Do I choose to sit and listen to my boys, or multi-task and offer an occasional, "really?" "oh, wow!" Do I choose to start my morning with prayer, or get right into my long list of stuff to get done? Do I choose to participate in gossip, or walk away from the conversation?

Hmmpf. There is that "live in the moment" theme that has been so prevalent lately on my mind.

The other thing Fr. Joel's homily reminded me of is that God's call to us is never convenient. And it always requires sacrifice.

But God only calls us to what he first lived himself.

Help me choose you, Lord. Every moment.

(Found this quote by Rich Mullins on another blog, and thought it fit great here):

"Never forget what Jesus did for you. Never take lightly what it cost Him. And never assume that if it cost Him His very life, that it won't also cost you yours."
Lufkin, Texas (July 19, 1997)

Be

2007-09-16T18:54:00.000-05:00

A dear friend sent me the lyrics to this song as part of our ongoing discussion of being "in the moment". I put the name of the artist at the end. I'll turn off my song for today.

Not knowing the melody, I have found the words very poetic. My favorite part is where it says we dance to a whispered voice overheard by the soul. If we still ourselves enough, if we enter into the quiet that is so often elusive in our hectic days unless we fight for it, carve it out, we will hear the Voice that calls to us--calls us to enter into communion with Him.

Still yourselves. Listen for His voice. Be as a page that aches for a Word.

BE

Lost
On a painted sky
Where the clouds are hung
For the poet's eye
You may find Him
If you may find Him

There
On a distant shore
By the wings of dreams
Through an open door
You may know Him
If you may

Be
As a page that aches for a Word
Which speaks on a theme that is timeless
While the Sun God will make for your day
Sing
As a song in search of a voice that is silent
And the one God will make for your way

And we dance
To a whispered voice
Overheard by the soul
Undertook by the heart
And you may know it
If you may know it

While the sand
Would become the stone
Which begat the spark
Turned to living bone
Holy, holy
Sanctus, sanctus

Be
As a page that aches for a Word
Which speaks on a theme that is timeless
While the Sun God will make for your day
Sing
As a song in search of a voice that is silent
And the one God will make for your way

--Neil Diamond

Brats or Sweat?

2007-09-13T22:46:00.000-05:00

I'm sitting here and I keep getting a whiff of what smells like bratwursts. And it seems to be coming from me. Are any of you firm enough in your self confidence to admit something like that???

We had an open house/brat fry at school tonight and I helped serve a part of it. And I grilled the nearly 100 brats on my deck yesterday afternoon. I think the smell is stuck in my nose. And on my skin.

I just love the parish/school community that we are part of. There are so many people with such big hearts and gifts and willingness to help. It's overwhelming at times to experience. And very humbling.

The richness of community.

hmmmmm.....and I keep getting a whiff of sweat. And it seems to be coming from me. I went running in the dark and the rain after the open house.

Brats and sweat. Isn't my husband lucky tonight.

I Have a Friend

2007-09-12T14:34:00.001-05:00

....who really only seems to pursue me when something is needed from me: a listening ear, a favor, an idea, an affirmation, etc. I love to help but sometimes wonder.....am I likable just for who I am? Does this person care to know about my day, or why I may be sad, or what the desires of my heart are? Should I even desire that they know me....or is this selfish?

I find that so many people today are so absorbed with themselves or their crazy schedules that they don't take the time to stop, look around, and connect. Or if there is the pretension of care, it is in order to receive something in return. They miss out on a lot of the richness around them.

This is one of the reasons I love my job with hospice. I occasionally (more often than in the "well" world) get to meet people on their deathbed where all pretension is stripped away. Their words mean what they say. There are no underlying or hidden meanings, no reading between the lines. No crap.

Do I do this, Lord? Help me to pursue others because they have a soul, and not for what they can do for me.

One Part of Parenting I Don't Like

2007-09-11T19:19:00.000-05:00

I was laying next to my son tonight in response to a request by him to snuggle him as he was falling asleep (a pretty frequent request of late....hmmmm...). In the dim twilight filtering in thru the curtains, I could see his profile. He's still a child, but his features are changing. His nose is beginning to lengthen. The front of his mouth is filled with his adult teeth.

He's in fourth grade. The boys and girls in his class are starting to separate along gender lines--inevitable, I know, but sad nonetheless. Girls, once dear friends of his, turn up their nose now at some of his conversations or desire to play soccer in the backyard. My husband and I are starting to talk about when and how much we begin to tell him about God's design for marriage. He is starting to hear more and more words that I don't really care for him to use. He's at the age of kids where they notice things about other kids that are "different" and pick on them. He and his brother seem to raise each other's ire more and more often.

I ponder these things. I do not think I will be able to protect him much longer from the hurts to his heart that all of us experience through later childhood years. I fear he may deliver some of those hurts, even, to others at some point.

I don't like it. Not one bit. Where is my 18-month-old with the messy hair and the juice stain on his shirt most in love with his toy trains?

My day today

2007-09-10T22:01:00.000-05:00

Just a usual work day.....
Up at 4am. Quiet/prayer time. Computer time. Laundry. Checkbook/bills. Getting work stuff together, boys together, stuff for after work together.

Drop boys at school, stop by one credit union and then the other, drop registration for son's flag football at park and rec dept.

Visit #1: A weekly check-in on a family caring for their mom at home the last two years--making sure they have the help and respite they need and that they are all getting along

Visit #2: Meeting a new woman to our services who is dealing with some anxiety right now, possibly related to unmanaged pain

Visit #3: An urgent visit made at the request of a call from a nurse coworker...."Help!". A couple not really safe any longer in their home, no caregiver available, and adamantly stating that no matter what they are not leaving their home. Sigh

Visit #4: Meeting a new man to our services. Actually, he was sleeping, so the visit was spent meeting his daughter/primary caregiver and giving her suggestions about how she can approach the idea of her need for respite with her dad

Visit #5: A bi-weekly check-in on a woman who is cared for by her son. She reminisced about her family of origin. I love her soft, brown eyes

Visit #6: Meeting a new woman to our services and talking with three of her children. "Are we doing everything right?" "Do you think she's comfortable?" "Do you have any other suggestions?" Some underlying current of tension. I'm sure I'll find out the source soon enough. I usually do......

First night of the year for teaching 2nd grade religious ed. It looks to be a great class. And the bonus: my son is enrolled!

Home to tuck boys into bed, hear their excitement about religious ed, and finish my work charting.

Didn't the house elf get my chore list of things to take care of today while I was gone? Oh well. I guess that's why I have tomorrow.

I Love to Run

2007-09-09T19:51:00.000-05:00

Well, I ran a full 6 miles today, 7 total with warm-up and cool down--the first time I've done that in about 6 weeks since dealing with a running injury.

I remembered how much I love to run--the sound of my breath in my ears, the feeling of dampness on my shirt from my sweat, the crunch, crunch, crunch of my feet hitting the asphalt/gravel, the feeling that my body is doing efficiently what God designed it to do.

Mr. Bluebird who landed just above me as I went by, the squirrel who raced me on the electrical line, the beauty of colorful late summer native Wisconsin weeds, the air heavy with their sweet smell.

Walking into my house to the sound of my crazy barking dachsund, the smell of coffee and of french toast and sausage.

It's good to be running again.

What Will it Cost Me?

2007-09-08T19:58:00.000-05:00

I was talking with a friend about a story we read about a Korean woman who was killed in 1839 by Korea's pagan regime. She and her husband were arrested for their faith (catholics were being persecuted during this regime) and imprisoned. While in prison, she was made to listen to the screams of her twelve-year-old son being tortured in an adjacent cell. Her cruel captors would torment her further by describing to her afterwards how they had tortured her child. She was beheaded at the age of 36 because she would not renounce her faith.

Having children, my friend and I wondered whether if faced with a similar choice we would choose faith or our children.

We pray we never have to make that decision, and also pray for those around the world who even today have choices like that to face.

Today's gospel reading is related to this. It is from Luke 14: 25-33. I'll let you read it for the details. Basically, Jesus addresses the crowds and tells them that if they choose to follow Him, all else comes second--family included. And then he asks who, if planning a project (I'm very much paraphrasing here) does not first sit down and calculate the cost to see if there is enough for its completion.

You think about your choice, you understand what it can cost you, and you continue forward--not in blindness, but in full understanding of the consequences.

Following Jesus is not for the faint-hearted. It is not a "happy" life, per se. It is joyful, and full of peace, but Jesus did not promise us happiness on this earth. We are asked to follow a God/man who leads us to the cross.

I've been praying since age 17 that if presented a situation where my choice to follow Him could mean I give my life, that He give me the grace and strength to say yes to Him. I pray now that if presented a situation where my choice to follow Him could mean my children lose their lives, that He give me the strength and the grace to say yes to Him. To give life for Life.

Because without Him, nothing else matters or has meaning. Not even my children's lives.

My Pondering for Today....

2007-09-06T17:36:00.000-05:00

Silence is the safe guardian of humility.

--Elisabeth Leseur

I Wish My Name was Yoder

2007-09-05T20:31:00.000-05:00

"What!?"......yep. Yoder. Amish people are named Yoder--some of them, anyway.

I was talking with a friend the other day about how we are both trying to be more "in the moment". And I was pondering that conversation tonight driving home from a meeting. And then I heard this goofy commercial on the radio about a "Yoder auction" service. And I thought to myself......"Yoder......hmmm...amish....the amish seem to know how to live in the moment!" (just to give you a glimpse into the inner workings of my mind) And if the Amish people named Yoder know how to live in the moment, then I want to be a Yoder (just to close the circle on my thinking in case you weren't quite sure...).

So as a Yoder, I'm good at being in the moment during moments I want to be in. Like laying next to my boys tonight snuggling them before bed--in the dark, listening to their breathing, feeling the rise and fall of their chests under my arm draped over them, pondering how big their bodies are getting and how small they used to be, wondering when the last time ever will be that they say, "Mama, will you snuggle me?"

I can handle being in the moment during times like that.

Sometimes I think when we think about being "in the moment," we think only of the good moments--using the saying as a reminder to slow down, take it all in, not to miss anything.

But what about the moments we don't want to be in? Would we say to someone else in moments like those "Just be in the moment"??? We know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. But none of us want those we love to have to be in the moment of suffering--emotional or otherwise. Neither do I want to be in those moments.

Do I? Should I try to be a Yoder in those times, too? Because when I think about the times that I'm not good in the moment, the times that I'm waiting to get onto the next "good" time, all I'm really doing is wanting to get out of the moment. To avoid an uncomfortable confrontation. To stop squirming with awkwardness and helplessness at the expression of someone's grief--a suffering I cannot remove. To make some excitement for an otherwise mundane and ordinary day. To pass a time of loneliness in expectation of that next intimate connection with someone.

Now that I type about it, I think maybe I am a Yoder in those moments, too. I mean, if I wasn't, would I even be aware that I was wanting out? Probably not.

Maybe I'm more in the moment than I think, and it's just that I don't necessarily like every moment that comes my way.

Thanks for being a Yoder--for being in my moment here.

Bobette the Builder

2007-09-04T21:14:00.000-05:00

I read a post today describing motherhood (but we can substitute parenthood for you males) analagous to building a great cathedral. It talks about the strenuous, rewarding, vision-casting, perseverance-testing, seemingly endless and repetitive job of raising children. The article said there are four similarities:

1. No one can say who built the great cathedrals—we have no record of their names.
2. These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.
3. They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
4. The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.

I love analogies. But I had two reactions to this one. The first--irritability.....because:

1. I want my name known.
2. I want to see the influence and impact of my actions.
3. I want credit.
4. I want others' eyes to see my building--not just God's eyes.

O.k. So I'm not proud of those, even though I am prideful. Hmmmph. But there is hope for me. My second set of reactions (albeit more slow to come around than the first.....work on that, God, 'k?) are thus:

1. As long as the job is finished and my boys come to know Him, my name can be mud.
2. I will see it finished one day.....God willing!!! (in heaven!)
3. I can do sacrifice, and without credit. I'm getting better! God's brought me a long way! and there are days when the realist in me knows absolutely that "there by the grace of God go I," and by nothing of my own effort whatsoever.
4. Knowing God's eyes see everything helps me persevere in the building.

Build on, construction workers, build on!!

Anticipation

2007-09-03T19:40:00.000-05:00

We just returned from a wonderful family weekend--just the four of us. Times like that are few and far between and oh so precious. I get to sit back, look at my little guys and ponder how much they've grown, how little time before they leave home, and the wonderful personalities God has given them. My heart always lurches.

School starts tomorrow. I will miss them. Yet I look forward to watching how they will grow and learn. They will change.

Anticipation. There is change in the air. I feel it. I love the adventure of the unknown--the future....good and bad.

I've been thinking a lot about a prayer a friend of mine has been uttering every morning lately.....a simple "Yes, Lord." Before she starts her day. And probably in the midst of it--I'll have to ask her.

It challenges me. What do I say "yes" to, and what do I say "no" to? I want to say yes to all God brings my way.

I love a saying I heard once.....that God is not a "safe" God. He is good, loving, merciful, just....but not "safe". But despite the scariness of that unknown adventure, there is great anticipation to where he will lead me.

I want to say "yes." Like my friend does. Thank-you, friend!

A Glimpse at Why I Love My Job

2007-08-30T20:57:00.000-05:00

A room in the back corner of a basement of a physicians clinic. Computers on tables with lots of wires lining the four walls of the room. Four long banquet tables pushed together 2x2 to make a rectangle in the center of the room. Sixteen clinicians sitting around the table, each with a laptop in front of them. Wires connecting the laptops to the wall--to electricity and to networks. Papers scattered on the table. The click click click of keyboard keys, various musical rings of cellphones, and an occasional overhead page. The confused delay in the conversation over the speakerphone connecting clinicians 40 miles away.

The report of how recently bereaved families are doing. The silent recitation of recent deaths. Discussion case-by-case of the 33 hospice patients the team I'm part of--Team 3--is responsible for. Concern about cares, or lack thereof, being delivered by caregivers. Problem-solving about something new ("anyone have any ideas?") that may take care of nausea not touched by any other med thus far. Other options for treating anxiety since the patient is allergic to the usual first line of treatment. Sharing of information learned at a recent conference about a new way to address a dry tickle cough in chronic COPD patients. Concern about a family's coping and the constant tears they shed. Rejoicing over a recent reconciliation of a patient to an estranged family member. Brainstorming about a patient and family not wanting to engage in any conversation about disease process or decline, despite the decline occurring. Pointing out a patient's estrangement from their faith background to keep an ear out lest there is increased anxiety/fear nearer to death. This person needs a volunteer to assist with attending a last-time fishing trip. That person needs a CNA to assist with her laundry.

We have to record this, sign that, document, document, document. But we play "the game" because it allows us to be present with families as their loved ones die. To make them more comfortable. So they don't feel alone. To answer their questions and teach them what to do.

To be present in the sacredness of the grieving of others heretofore strangers, but strangers no more.

The Incredible Shrinking Woman

2007-08-29T20:31:00.001-05:00

Remember that movie?? With Lily Tomlin? Am I aging myself? It's a movie about a woman who....well.....shrinks. Physically. As in shorter and shorter and smaller and smaller. So hold on to that image....

Today in our church liturgy we remember the martyrdom of John the Baptist. The gospel reading about his execution is Mark 6: 17-29. A meditation I read quoted John the Baptist from John 3:30:

"He must increase, but I must decrease."

So this morning when I read that, I thought, "I want to be the incredible shrinking woman where I decrease, but God increases." And I thought that I would try to practice that today. Here's how it went.....

While drinking my coffee, my son was preparing his breakfast. "Mama, can you help me pour the milk?" I was comfy on the couch. ((He must increase, but I must decrease)) "Ok, honey." I got my butt off of the couch. I shrank a little

Having just wiped up the mud dragged into the mudroom by children yesterday, same children ask "Can we go outside to play?" It's still muddy outside, and I want the clean floor to last at least an hour. ((He must increase, but I must decrease)) "No. Not right now. Stay in for a while and find something else to do." I got bigger.

Looking at the piles (and I mean PILES) of laundry, I pondered whether to try to get it caught up or leave it for another day, also considering a conversation with my husband recently about how one of the ways he feels loved is to come home to a house in order. ((He must increase, but I must decrease)) I did the laundry. I shrank a little.

Getting close to supper time, I was playing on the computer. My husband got home from work and I thought to myself that I should get supper ready. I also thought to myself that I had worked all day and deserved a little time to relax, no matter hubbie hadn't had any of that time yet. ((He must increase, but I must decrease)) I chose to stay planted in front of the computer. I got bigger.

Needless to say, I'm the same size now that I was this morning. Sigh. Tomorrow's another practice day. Maybe one of these days I'll succeed and be smaller at the end of the day than when I started the day.

I'll end with a quote related to this theme: "We will know God to the extent that we are set free from ourselves."--Pope Benedict XVI

Lord, set me free from myself!!!!

Backseat Conversation

2007-08-28T20:29:00.000-05:00

I'm supposed to be exercising. But the pool cancelled the deepwater aquacise because of thunderstorms, so I was going to use the weight room....only halfway into the locker room I realized that as I had planned to be in the pool, I didn't have my tennies. So I drove home thinking I would do a workout video at home. I turned on the light to the tv room only to find the floor completely covered with toys and legos--no room to work out. Sigh. I feel like a slug. I mentally need a workout, but will have to wait until tomorrow. Sooo......

wanted to share a conversation overheard in my backseat today. One of the children was mine (name will be held), and the other child belongs to a friend (name will be held). It went something like this:

"Na-ah. You don't know God's secrets!"
"Uh huh! I do!"
"No. How can you know the secrets of GOD!?"
"I do!"
"No! No one can know God's secrets."
"Uh huh!"
"No!"
"I do cuz God lives in my heart and he tells me them!"
(no response)

Really. How do you argue with that?

I'm sure these children had a more meaningful conversation today than many adults.

Continue to grow their faith, God!

Rejection of a money tree

2007-08-27T20:40:00.000-05:00

I had a conversation with a terminally ill man and his family today. Before I left the house, I asked if there was anything else they needed. The man responded with a twinkle in his eye, "a body overhaul." I smiled and said that usually people asked me for a money tree. His response: "Well, that's stupid. Why would anyone want more money?"

My first thought was that this man knew his priorities. And my second thought was that it is easy for us in America to decline a money tree.

He still has his priorities right. He is dying. What use does he have now for more money?

A woman on an online board I'm part of just posted to please pray--that her husband might not make it through the night. He has terminal cancer. They have young children. They only found out about his diagnosis about a month ago. They learned of his prognosis only days ago.

I remember a childhood prayer I said every night. "Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take."

And if he were to take my soul tonight, would I say I had my priorities in line? Today, I would say yes.

I pray tomorrow and the next day and the next, that I still say yes.

Constant diligence and vigilance. "For we know not the hour....."

Resolutions I relate to

2007-08-26T08:03:00.000-05:00

I've said I'm reading a book called "The Secret Diary of Elisabeth Leseur". Her heart so resonates with mine, and I thought today's post would be the section from her diary I read this morning. This is a bit long, so I apologize, as I've been trying to keep my posts short and sweet. This is more for my benefit, as much of it about loving others hit home to me today.

My resolutions: to love despite the disappointment, rejection, and misunderstandings. To keep my heart soft.

Here's her entry from October 7, 1905:

"Firmer resolution to have deep inner stability, and to accept as a trial that does not touch the depths this assault of troubles, agitations, and confusions that, to be sure, have their cause in my health, and also the painful disappointments caused by certain persons. To love those who have betrayed my confidence and made me suffer, or at least to pardon them fully. Not to assign to others my own faults, but to accept the humiliation of having given my confidence too quickly and of having committed these faults. For the future, without discouragement or bitterness, to practice great prudence in regard to work and new connections, and in all things to observe the greatest moderation. To give myself to everyone in charity, but not to let everyone enter into my heart, which I must not open too lightly. To welcome an affection only when I have solidly proved its value, and yet to have kindness for all. Never to compromise with ideas and principles, and yet to be full of indulgence for those who differ most widely from me in their point of view. To maintain, by prayer and daily effort, integrity of will and moral energy in spite of the oppression and failure caused by ill-health. It was, I think, Bichat who said, 'The soul makes its body.' And when God dwells in the soul, how shall it not be stronger than the very evil that acts upon its body and sometimes overwhelms it?"

Naked Skin

2007-08-23T21:08:00.000-05:00

(I'll bet that title caught your attention!!)

Do we become less modest as we grow older, or just more comfortable with our bodies? I still need to change behind a curtain at the pool, and take my shower behind a wall.

But there are older women in much different shape than I am who stand buck naked in the open shower with their eyes closed shampooing their hair. There are older women who walk naked into the sauna where I am sitting and proceed to talk to me and apply lotion to their limbs. Still buck naked. How do you talk to someone like that? I tell you how--with your eyes to the ground or on your own feet. Or I suddenly feel the need to get busy applying lotion to myself so I have something else to focus on.

So why does that nakedness bother me? I can place a pillow between the knees of a frail man with terminal illness wasting away in his bed. He can be naked from the waste down and have a catheter in place. He can mumble a request to position the pillow a bit differently for comfort and I gladly assist. And that nakedness doesn't bother me. Somehow in that setting his personhood transcends his wasting shell.

Is there a certain point in life where the perspective changes, or is it a gradual process?--Where what we look like isn't so much a part of who we are any longer?

Time for Bed

2007-08-22T21:46:00.000-05:00

I have scratchy eyes. My mouth feels pasty (yuk!). It is sticky and muggy. But a cool breeze is filtering in through the patio doors and the only sounds in the background are the refrigerator running (I know, I know....some of you are saying, "Well then you better go catch it!" :::snort::: ) and the frogs outside singing at the tops of their lungs.

My head gets to hit a down pillow with worn-in soft cotton sheets. I get to hear my husband breathing softly next to me. And my sidetrip to the boys' room before bed will yield kisses on their faces as I observe in the shadows their ever-more-sprawling bodies.

And how far is heaven? It seems a bit nearer tonight.

Not wise or exciting

2007-08-21T21:45:00.000-05:00

I almost didn't post today. I'm not feeling particularly wise. Well, I really never feel wise. Maybe what I mean to say is I don't feel I have anything particularly interesting to post. I didn't encounter any interesting strangers, or have any huge epiphanies.

I guess today is what you'd call a mundane day. I don't mean boring--I mean mundane. I know there is a difference because I looked it up in the dictionary! mun.dane adj. Typical of or concerned with the ordinary.

I had prayertime. I emptied and reloaded the dishwasher. I did 4 loads of laundry. I scrubbed my mudroom. I poked on the computer. I cared for 3 children besides my own. I went to the library and the post office. I made pork chops for dinner. I cleaned up the kitchen. I told my dog to "shut up" when she wouldn't stop barking. I exercised tonight.

It was a typical day, and I was concerned with all of my duties, so it fits the definition!

But I feel good about my day. I feel like I served God even in my mundaneness (which it seems 80% of life really is), and fulfilled my duties without grumbling (except when I hollered at my dog).

I'm reading a book called The Secret Diary of Elisabeth Leseur. I don't feel like describing it now--suffice it to say she is an inspiration to me by her faith. Anyhow, in the introduction to the book there is a quote that describes her:

".....who feels she never did more for God than on the day when to ignorant eyes she did nothing."

I want that to be me all of the time. But I'll settle for today for starters.

My 93-Year-Old Teacher

2007-08-20T19:45:00.000-05:00

Things I was reminded of today:

You can still see without your eyesight. You just see different things.

A half hour of focused attention and listening reduces the lonliness in a human heart.

Our God-given desires to love and be loved do not diminish even in older age.

We are not our bodies solely. But they are our vessels on this earth, and we are subject to their limitations. And we don't have to like it.

Everyday we have opportunity to submit to God's will. 93-year-olds get more practice at this. And it may still be a struggle.

Our quest to determine the meaning and purpose and impact of our lives does not fade with age.

I feel an envy for a 93-year-old with a terminal illness because as far as I know, she gets to see Jesus face to face before I do.

Why does God allow suffering?

2007-08-19T20:08:00.000-05:00

Why, indeed?

Except that He loves us. More than we can even imagine.

And that He has in mind what is in our best interest for eternity. For our souls. Not just for our emotional or physical comfort here on earth.

He is constantly shaping us into the masterpiece He originally intended us to be. Before original sin distorted his artwork.

And having sharp corners removed from ourselves is not comfortable.

But are we seeking comfort, or are we seeking to be more like Him???

Why It Matters

2007-08-18T10:35:00.000-05:00

We all need to remind ourselves of the epic story of the God of the universe and his love for us. Sometimes we forget, you know? Well, I don't forget, really. Just sometimes the storyline ends up more like background music in my life rather than a crescendo.

This song by Sara Groves always reminds me of that. And our need to tell each other the story. Over and over. Put your poet hats on. I'll try to change the music playing in my blog for a couple of days so you can appreciate it fully, too.

"Why It Matters"

Sit with me and tell me once again of the story that's been told us,
Of the power that will hold us,
Of the beauty, of the beauty.....
Why it matters.

Speak to me until I understand why our thinking and creating,
And why our efforts of narrating about the beauty, of the beauty.....
Why it matters.

Like a statue in the park of this war-torn town,
And it's protest of the darkness and this chaos all around,
With its beauty.....
How it matters, how it matters.

Show me a love that never fails--
Some compassion and attention
Midst confusion and dissension--
Like small ramparts for the soul.....
How it matters.

Like a single cup of water.....
How it matters.

Hit me on the head with a frying pan

2007-08-17T16:26:00.000-05:00

Anyone else struggle with a battle of the wills? With yourself, that is? Sometimes I get tired of the strength of my will wanting something that I shouldn't have or can't have. Grrrrr. What does St. Paul say?--"No, I drive my body and train it, for fear that, after having preached to others, I myself should be disqualified." (1 Cor. 9:27)

(whiny voice here:) but it's sooooo much work! Whhhhyyyy do I have to do this alllllll of the tiiiiiiime?? I'm tiiiiiiired. Can't I have this just this once?? But I wan't it nowwww! (Remember Veruca from Willie Wonka??)

Sigh. Sigh, sigh, sigh, sigh.

But I don't want to be disqualified from the race. So as tempting as a side course is, I press on to the finish. Grumbling as I go, maybe, but still pressing on with the desire to hear at the end, "Well done good and faithful servant."

And if I can press on, so can you.

Stranger Encounters

2007-08-16T18:37:00.000-05:00

2 strangers today.

The first one I thought of off and on all day. I prayed for his day. I prayed for his family. I wondered about who he is and where he lives and what is his story. I slowed down in town today to go around a utility truck. And as I passed, he shot me a glance and a smile through the windshield--not a glance that made me uncomfortable. More a glance like, "Well good morning, ma'am. Have a nice day." So what in tarnation is so exceptional about that, you ask? I'm right there with you. I'm not really sure why he lifted my mood. Maybe because in our culture of cubicles and 15-minute time slots and cell phones and e-mails (and blogs!) and running hither tither far and yon, we've forgotten the common courtesy and personal touch of eye contact with strangers--other human beings going about their day as we do ours.

The second one made me stand straighter. I went shopping for new running shoes. I sorta mumbled with some embarrassment to the owner of the store about my running injury when he asked about my running particularities. Ten minutes later a lithe, blonde woman older than me marched in standing tall and anounced loudly that she needed new running shoes because she's training for a marathon and "I have injuries here and here" (pointing to her arch and her hamstrings.) She wore her injuries with pride. Like they were her battle wounds. Like they were part of her. Part of her story.

I limped out standing taller.

Ok. I guess I'm a bit syrupy today.

Unconditional Love

2007-08-15T13:25:00.000-05:00

I'm called to love like Jesus did. And he loved me all the way to the cross. Yet how often do I truly love others with absolutely no strings attached? I mean, I don't tally it up or anything, but my feeling is that my love for others is completely pure less often than it is more.

The desire for a pure heart and the ability to love others well has been the persistent prayer of my heart for the last 4 years. God, change me! Why are you taking so long???

I want to love and care for others no matter what I do/do not receive in return. I want to love even if it's never returned, or if it's not returned in a way that makes me feel loved. I don't want to demand anything from those who love me. I don't want to pull for compliments or affirmations, I don't want to do things in order to be paid back. I want to be able to absorb unintentional hurt without reacting by withdrawing or shutting down my heart.

I'm made in God's image. God is love. I'm made to love. Like He does.

God, help me!!

"Intentional Presence"

2007-08-14T22:12:00.001-05:00

At mass tonight, Fr. Dave was talking about how God is an intentional presence in our lives. And it got me to thinking about all of the other "intentional presences" in my life. And am I an intentional presence in others' lives??

I confided in a chaplain coworker of mine 14 years ago as a new hospice social worker that I didn't feel like I was making a difference in any of the lives of the patients I had seen. I felt awkward at times, didn't know what to do, or what to say to make it better. Not only did he remind me that we cannot take others' pain from them, he said, "never underestimate the power of your presence." Hmmm. I often return to that advice when I cannot see the impact of my life on others' lives.

Be an intentional presence.

I DID IT!!!!

2007-08-14T15:33:00.000-05:00

I've entered the blogging world. This template makes it easy, but it took me three days and the assistance of my b-i-l Dave (thanks, Dave!) to figure out how to embed music. I love this song. Read about why I chose it on the left.

I've been thinking a lot today about how God leads us through life. I have a friend whose life has changed course today, and you can see God's hand all over her exciting new adventure!

But it's that way for all of us though, isn't it? At times I feel insignificant. I mean, there are billions of people in this world, who knows how many in heaven, and yet I'm to believe the God of the universe is the lover of my soul and cares about me? It's mind boggling. I can't grasp it. Yet I know, should I die someday unknown and forgotten, or leaving a lasting legacy, I will have been in the spot He made for me to be in.