The Newest Member of Our Family

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

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?

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....

"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

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

Not as Mary Expected

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.

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?

How does one work to strengthen the virtue of humility?

I Want a Niche

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....

was finding this in my flower garden this morning:

Solitude

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

Flowers From My Boy

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

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

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.

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....

...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

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

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

Inside Knowledge

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

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