My Husband on Father’s Day

Today is Father’s Day.  I’ve shared a couple of sentences and pictures on Facebook to honor my husband as the father of our children, but I have so much more to say.

I’m sitting on the futon in my spot, as he makes biscuits and gravy - his usual Sunday fare.  He makes no demands, asks for nothing, nor refrains from service on his day.  When asked about his wishes and desires, he expresses his contentment and simply says “Every day is Father’s Day.”

Can you relate to this?  Because on Mother’s Day, I know I am not cooking, I’d like to do something as a family, I want handmade cards, a gift of some kind, and to take a family picture.

This is one of the many reasons my husband is a better person than I am.  When I tell him this, he tells me that that is why our marriage works so well, because he feels the same way about me.

After climbing into bed last night, I remembered that I hadn’t covered the brownies.  He’d already done it.  This scenario happens daily.  He just does what needs doing and he never, ever complains.

He teaches our sons how to drive, how to re-side our house, how to mow and weed-eat, how to build guns, how to shoot, how to paint, how to clean the kitchen, how to clean driveways when spray painting was done carelessly, how to use tools of every kind, how to fish, how to serve, and how to love.

His own father died before he was 6-years-old.  He had to figure things out for himself and gleaned the best of everything from the other people in his life.  And now he is giving it to our sons.

According to John and Stasi Eldridge, the questions children are asking of their fathers are...

For boys:  “Do I have what it takes?”

For girls:  “Am I captivating?”

Thank you for saying yes 1,000 times in a 1,000 different ways.

Happy Father’s Day to my husband, my Dad, and all fathers who grew up without a model, and are rocking fatherhood anyway!

Unfinished Business

The last two days have given me a lot to think about.  I'm dumbfounded.  Maybe it is a good thing God only lets us see a little bit at a time... 

Case #1:  My boys are becoming very interested in skateboarding, so we've been hitting the skate park after dinner.   Last night, I noticed a very little boy who was surprisingly proficient on a scooter and a little girl hanging out behind one of the jumps.  I didn't see any parents, but assumed, since the kids were so young, that they were close by. 

I saw them again tonight, and unfortunately, I was wrong.  The young girl wandered over to our game of tennis, so I invited her to join us.  I asked her where her Mom was.  She said, "She's not really around here."  After a few more questions from me, I learned that her Mom lives in Southgate (a low-income apartment complex), but she is living with the other kids who are her cousins and their parents, across the street from the skate park.  Apparently, tonight, the parents were in Snook - a little town 16 miles from here, and the oldest cousin (a teenage girl) was in charge of the others (ages 12, 7, and 3-the little boy on the scooter).  . 

It was a little after 8pm, so I told her we were going to have to go, because it was bedtime.  She said, "It's 8:00?  My bedtime is 8:30."  I told her "You better go soon, too, so you can get to bed on time."  Then, she told me, "I can't.  When the parents leave, we can't get in the house", proceeded to name all of the doors that were locked, and said "Maybe 1:00".  I said, "1:00 in the morning?!"  She nodded.

I felt sick as I packed up our tennis gear, imagining those little kids "stuck" at the skate park for any length of time, let alone until 1:00 in the morning!  I wanted to take her with me (and her 3-year-old cousin, too), but I couldn't figure out how to get around the inevitable kidnapping charge.  Instead, I thanked her for playing with us, and she ambled away.  I couldn't believe I was leaving her and her 3-year-old cousin there.  The very-foul language and sometimes overt sexuality at the skate park make me uncomfortable.  My mind raced as we went home and I put my own boys in bed. 

After bedtime prayers and kisses goodnight, I drove back up to the skate park and had a look around.  I decided that if I couldn't take those kids to my house and put them to bed, I could at least call the police, and get somebody on the job.  Fortunately, the kids were nowhere around, and I turned around and went home. 

I don't know if anything will come of it, but they are definitely on my "radar".  There are soccer moms, classroom moms, hockey moms, you-name-it...  Where are the skateboard moms?!!

Case #2:  I received a voicemail from the Church office yesterday, with details of a lady who was asking if anyone could bring her groceries, and whether the transportation ministry (which I coordinate) could help.  However, earlier that morning, a friend unexpectedly picked up my 4-year-old for an overnighter, so I was really looking forward to a full day of FREEDOM.

I tried to ignore the voicemail (reasoning that it was likely a lady I already know), and finished up some paperwork that I needed to take to the Church anyway.  When I dropped the paperwork off, the secretary in the Church office told me that the lady needing groceries had already called back three times, thinking that she'd missed the call.  Ugh. 

I walked out to my car, trying to decide which chunk of my freedom I wanted to lose - to run an errand for someone I didn't know.  I reluctantly picked up my phone and called her, hoping that she could wait one more day.  I didn't ask her, but she couldn't.  Her daughter was sick, and she wanted to make some soup to get her well.  I took down her list and headed to HEB.

Have you ever grocery shopped for someone you didn't know?  What brand of bouillon do they like?  What is "sweet bread" if it isn't the Hawaiian kind?  Did you know Nescafe comes in cinnamon and dark roast?  Are store brand instant potatoes as good as name brand? 

After marking through everything on her list, and getting my list, too, I was on my way.  I knocked on the front door, and stood there with grocery sacks up my arms.  I waited, but no one came.  I rang the doorbell, and no one came.  I started walking around the house, and I saw her.

I don't mean to be stereotypical, but she looked like one of those kind-eyed, short-in-stature, 80-year-old ladies from the Himalayas, smiling for a National Geographic photographer.  She insisted on taking some of the groceries from my arms, and I retrieved more.  She kept saying "You're an angel, You're an angel" and told me how she started "praying and praying" after she called all of the grocery stores, and churches, and found out no one delivers. 

We piled all of the groceries on the dryer in the musty garage, and I asked about her daughter.  She quickly and quietly said, "Aca! Aca!" and ushered me into the house.  Laundry was piled up all around the perimeter of the living room, like a laundry service with hills of white sheets, and water was running full blast in the bathroom.  She apologized for the house, and led me to a very thin lady laying in a chair in the middle of the room, with her feet propped up on an end table. 

She roused her 50-year-old daughter who she described as being very weak, after vomiting for days last week, after eating something.  Her daughter was now unable to walk, and she thought some soup might help her get some strength back.  The daughter half-smiled, made brief eye contact, and thanked me for coming, at her mother's insistence.  She had not been to the doctor, and I'm not sure why. 

My lady was eager to fix the soup.  I offered to take her daughter to the hospital, if the soup didn't help.  She said she would call me if she needed help, paid me $77 for the groceries (plus $23 for the Church, and $10 for my gas), and I left.  I kept wondering if I should have pushed harder to take her daughter to the hospital, but I had to get home to meet my kids after school.

I fully expected to hear from her today.  I didn't hear anything and called twice with no answer.  Tonight, to my chagrin, my husband informed me of a recent E.coli outbreak in our area.  If I can't get her on the phone tomorrow, I'm going to see if I can track them down at one of the local hospitals... 

In both of these circumstances, I feel powerless.  Instead of having the ability to tie up the loose ends with a pretty bow, I'm restricted to this little desk, writing to you.  I hope my sharing will help you go to these places with me.  Entering into another person's world is a tremendous privilege.  Even, and especially if it is unsettling to do so.

Dear Heavenly Father, Thank you for beautiful weather, friends who love my kids, and the world wide web.  Thank you for meeting and surpassing my needs and expectations.  Lord, my heart is heavy tonight for the kids growing up at the skate park, and the lady with the sick daughter.  You know where they are, and you know what they need.  Please make Your Presence known to them.  Thank you for using us to answer another's prayers.  Thank you for a conscience that doesn't let selfishness dictate every move.  Thank you for the generosity and joy of the lady, who was so happy to give, though it seemed like she needed what she was giving.  Thank you for allowing encounters with the "poor in spirit".  They teach me everything I need to know.  I'm sorry I hesitated at the opportunity to receive what you were offering.  Please grant me the grace to love You and my neighbor with all my heart, according to Your will.  I love You, and know You are near.  Amen.   

I'm Like Pontius Pilate

April 12, 2011 - Lenten Reflection – The Passion

As I have been meditating on the sorrowful mysteries, I am struck by many things. 

Jesus asked only one thing of his disciples during His passion.  Stay awake!  Stay awake for 1 hour!  Ahhhh!  We cannot comply even with this simple request.  Oh, poor Jesus.  Accused or denied at every turn.  The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.  Sweet Jesus, please show us how to stay awake for You.  If denying the flesh is the only way to make it stronger, please show us those things that have a hold on us, so that our flesh is as willing as our spirit.

The second, I want to scream at Pontius Pilate, “Where is your backbone?!”  How can you so easily command that Jesus be scourged and then say you are innocent of His blood?!  The reason for my animosity is twofold.  #1 - He gives the final word to put Jesus to His death.  #2 – I am like him.  I want to please people, just like Pontius Pilate.  So much so that I would put my Savior to death?  I have not seen much in my life to prove otherwise.  I have silenced my tongue so as not to offend unbelievers or other Christians, even.  I don’t want them to think I am persecuting them.  Is this not the same thing?  In an effort to “placate the crowd”, Pilate’s vanity put Jesus on the cross.  What if Pilate had not been influenced by what the people thought?  The people tried to kill Jesus multiple times on their own, yet, they were unsuccessful.  God used someone with influence, but who silenced his tongue, to give his power and means to the masses.  He acquiesced.  Oh, Lord, please take my vanity away from me!!!  

Lastly, I think about Mary.  How much did she know ahead of time?  It is easy to think the Passion was easier for her, if she “knew what was coming.”  But, how much did she know?  She didn’t know Jesus was in the temple, even after searching for Him for days.  So, going forward, I imagine her watching Jesus, just as I imagine watching my own son.  At each turn, she must have thought, “Please, let this be the end, Lord.  How much more can He bear?”  When they placed the reed in His hand, I think about his fingers opening to receive it.  For so much of the Passion, Jesus seems to passively receive his torture, “like a lamb being led to the slaughterhouse”.  But through this, we see His active participation in it.  He accepts it, only to have the accepted, mocking reed ripped out of His hand and hit on His newly crowned head with it.  Oh, Lord, please forgive us!  Be merciful to us and give us Your courage, patience, and perseverance!

God, forgive us.  Mary, pray for us.  Jesus, be with us.  Let us remain with You.  Amen.

Valentine's Day - The Un-Hallmark Version

I am looking forward to dinner and a date with my husband tonight.  Today is (should be) special for all couples, but it is especially special for us because it is the anniversary of the day we met.  Yes, I believe in Providence. 

I am thankful for the 3 years that have passed since this journal entry that make sharing this once painful day, a joy and a part of history.

February 14, 2010 – Valentine’s Day

Sunday 1:47pm 

I just put the boys down for a nap and I need to sort a few things out in my head, so here goes…  This morning, I gave Brett a book, a card, and some chocolates for V-Day.  He didn’t want to open it until he came back from San Antonio (which he was leaving for today), so we could have a mutual gift exchange.  I wasn’t expecting a gift, but I wasn’t expecting nothing, either.  He said instead of going out and getting me something yesterday, he thought it was more important that he come home, so I could leave and have some time to myself.  After a little disappointment, I started thinking about what was bothering me the most, and it was that he didn’t admit that he just didn’t make the effort.  After all, he is a logistics man and the day before Valentine’s Day isn’t the only day to come up with something…my favorite thing in the whole world is a handwritten note from him (and he knows this). 

If he had given it very much thought at all – he could have given me what I value most.  Even if he had put it off until this morning, he was up almost 2 hours before me.  The way I see it is that it just wasn’t important to him this year.  I can deal with that better than him not admitting it.  So, after wrestling with letting it go, or letting him know, I called him.  He was quick to point out that he took Friday off and had to work an extra long/hard day on Thursday to do so.  Furthermore, he gets very little time to himself (one Saturday a month since November for shooting - He didn’t mention his lunch breaks and the opportunity to work out).  

Then, he told me he had some things to get off of his chest, too.  He thinks I’ve been pretty self-absorbed lately and listed the following:  going to Lauren’s (one Friday night for a few hours), time practicing music with Tomas, my rugs, and going to have coffee with Becca.  This is almost the entire list of things I do, which are not taking care of my children or house.  The only thing that is missing is the occasional hour at Lick Creek Park to walk the dog.  I think it is of note that my music practice and coffee with Becca are all after the kids are in bed (or on their way), and this is not an accident.  I don’t think he is self-absorbed for wanting to go shooting (even 3 times a month – it just gets too expensive).  So this leaves me with the question, “Am I self-absorbed?” 

Probably so.  Day in and day out, I wrestle with wanting some time alone, doing my own thing.  I try to give my kids as much of me as I can without being resentful.  When I start to feel resentful, the only thing I know to do, is to try to put something back in my own cup – by working on rugs, going for a walk, or playing music.  Mother Teresa says any time we have lost our peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other.  I think it is true (but often forget) that my time belongs to my children as much as it belongs to me.  It is a constant battle to put that into practice.  However, I don’t think that because Brett has to watch the kids from time to time - to accommodate me - makes me self-absorbed. 

I would love a quiet evening in a hotel room.  I haven’t been ALONE (without Brett or the kids) for more than 24 hours at one time since Brayton was born (in 5 years).  He has been deployed multiple times since our marriage, gone on many work trips, has had the house to himself on at least 2 different occasions when I’ve taken the kids to KS, and is getting ready to have the house to himself for a week.  He gets time for reflection and to gain perspective on things at home, even when he’s not doing “his own thing”.  Being away helps you appreciate things at home and to love your family better.  I have not “been away.”  I know I could do better and be better, but there are times I feel like I am totally losing myself, and since I can’t leave (for more than a couple of hours), I turn inward.   

I’m not sure where to go from here…I’m a solution-oriented person, but I feel like only half of the problem lies with me.  I can find ways to “be okay” with not getting more time to myself.  Time spent outside and little adventures with the boys feel like “my time”, too.  But, I don’t know how to handle the perception of being self-absorbed, when I do anything for myself.  All I do know, is that my life is not about me 90% of the time, as it shouldn’t be.  Our lives are supposed to be about other people, so my prayer is for this to come more easily with each passing day…that I will not lose my peace. (end)

Dear God of Love,  Thank you for Brett, the man you chose for me before I was knit in my mother's womb.  Thank you for ignorance of the day and hour I was going to meet him.  If I would have known, I would have been a nervous wreck, and he might have changed his mind!  Thank you for rich people who hired a girl like me and made it easy to move far away from home.  Thank you for the hilltop outside Mountain Home, TX, where our lives were changed forever.  Thank you that real love stories aren't confined to Hollywood.  Thank you for allowing us to meet You, through our spouse, in marriage.  Thank you for unconditional love.  Please be near to those today who have not experienced it.  If there is no one else, please let the love of a stranger break into their world, and hint at Your love for them.  You are an awesome, generous, and loving God.  I love You and I know You love me.  Amen. 

 

Loving Myself For Your Benefit

Yesterday, I had the honor of speaking to a beautiful group of wives and mothers who gather to pray and fellowship.  The time I spent with them clarified and deepened a conviction about our need to love ourselves.  I am embracing an "I love me for your benefit" philosophy.  However, it needs to be understood in the context of the proper "love order" (as reviewed by Fr. Michael Sullivan). We should love:
          1. God (above all else)
          2. Our soul (Love your neighbor as yourself)
          3. Our neighbor (yes, this includes our kids)
          4. Our body

I want to share this with you because our culture screams "Love yourself!  Love yourself!  Love yourself!"  Our culture says it's okay if your love begins and ends with yourself. 

As a person who would like to be "in the world, but not of the world", a.k.a. "counter-cultural", it would be easy to dismiss this "Love yourself" concept altogether, throw on the penances, don the hairshirt, and work on loving everyone but myself.  Meanwhile, making sure to feel very selfish for the smallest indulgence.  (Are you nodding your head in agreement?)  I think Christian women may lean a little too far in this direction (myself included).  Not for the sake of martyrdom, but because we fail to see the line between ordered and disordered love.

The truth (as usual) is not to be found in either extreme.  We cannot love our neighbor as ourself, if we do not love ourself in the first place.

"I love me for your benefit." - A person operating at this level says:  "I love me, work on me, and build myself up so that I can come to you from a position of wholeness, a position of fullness.  I take care of me so that you don't have to.  From fullness I can then empty myself, my gifts, my love, my actions, for your ultimate benefit.  I am the only one in charge of me, and I am the one ultimately responsible for me and my well-being.  Therefore, as a steward of my greatest gift, my life, I need to take steps to ensure my health, my calmness of mind, my sanity, and my own validation as a person in the world.  Thus, I can free you from having to provide those things for me.  Thus, I can truly serve you without needing you to serve me."

Hal Runkel, author of Scream-Free Parenting

Dear Lover of Body and Soul, Creator and Redeemer,  Thank you for loving us.  Thank you for summarizing the ten commandments in only two.  "Love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind."  "Love your neighbor as yourself."  Please help us to know what this looks like.  The world's voice is so loud, please help us to hear You.  I don't want to love myself more than I should, but I don't want to burden others for my part, either.  Please show me where the balance is in all things.  I love you and I trust You to reveal to me what I need to know.  I love you.  Amen. 

One Life For Another

After the Corpus Christi procession the other night, I finally got a chance to talk to this beautiful lady I see every Sunday at Mass.  She is here finishing up her post-doc as a Psychologist and will be moving back to Canada at the end of August.  That is a pretty awesome accomplishment in its own right, but what makes it extraordinary is that she has spinal muscular atrophy (SMA) and is wheelchair-bound.  She has to have someone get her up, get dressed, get her from A to B, and put her to bed at night.

I know this because my mother is in a wheelchair and requires all of these things as well.  Her mother lives with her and is her primary care provider.  At different times, her entire family has relocated so she can pursue her education.  Right now, her brother (who is also wheelchair-bound with SMA) and father live in Canada.  They can't wait to be reunited! 

I wanted to write about this because I was bowled over by this mother-daughter team!  The mother has poured (and is pouring) her life out for her daughter to chase her dreams.  In this case, it consumes her life.

My mother was in a car accident and broke her neck when I was a junior in high school.  I was one of her primary care providers for several years, and off-and-on after that, depending on the unreliability of the aids who were hired to help her.  She also lived with my husband and I for four months shortly after we were married. 

I tell you this because I know what it is like to care for another full-grown human being.  It is the hardest thing I have done in my life.  I did not do it well most of the time.  I was often bitter, angry, selfish, and joy-less.  Fortunately, my mom has had many people come into her life who are able to love and serve her better than I was able to.  She is still able to live alone, go to Mass and Adoration, host Bible study, and go out to eat from time to time.

As mothers, we are expected to sacrifice ourselves for our children; Especially when they are young, but then less and less as they are able to do more for themselves.  In this case, this mother is still going strong after 27 + years of sacrifice for her kiddos.  I marvel at her level of commitment, love, and joy. 

God has given her a grace beyond all imagining.  Jesus tells us that "No one has greater love than this, to lay down one's life for one's friends."  This mother has the greatest love I have ever witnessed.

It is ironic that while I was talking to this mother-daughter duo, I was telling them that one of our priests, Fr. Edwin, was the most Christ-like human being I'd ever known.  Upon further reflection, I think I was talking to the other most Christ-like person I have ever met. 

I thank God for the opportunity to talk to these beautiful ladies and for the re-commitment I want to make to serve the people in my life. 

Dear God, Thank you for the example of the limitless love in this mother-daughter pair.  Please bless them abundantly.  Thank you for laying down your life for us, your friends.  Lord, please forgive me for not serving and loving my own mother better.  Please help me to sacrifice for love, more and more.  I cannot do this without You.  Thank you for the people who have sacrificed themselves for me.  I love you.  Amen.

Tomorrow - The Last Day of School

Tomorrow is the last day of school.  From all of the conversations I've had, it sounds like this is a bittersweet transition for most of us.  We're excited for the change of pace to a slower one and the freedom that comes with not being bound by the hours of the school day, but it comes with the price of having little or no alone time.  I'm looking forward to reading with my boys, lots of swimming, and day trips.  I'm looking forward to reconnecting with my school boys.  I'm looking forward to not rushing out the door in the morning (and the yelling that has been known to accompany it).  I'm looking forward to challenging them and enjoying them.  I am looking forward to "soaking up the time".

I used to reflect on the days when I would have school-aged children.  Time is really picking up speed.

August 21, 2009 - Friday 7:51am 

I was just thinking about having just 1 more year with all of my kids at home.  This is our last year for leisurely mornings…sitting on the couch watching movies or PBS w/ sippy cups in hand.  Every one says time really starts to fly when your kids start school.  Walker is not going to know what to do with himself when Brayton starts kindergarten!  We have such a beautifully simple life.  Granted, I occasionally feel pressures that I need to be stimulating them more, teaching them more things, cleaning more, etc…, but these feelings have abated considerably since Wyatt was born.  It seems that the pressure was off because I could no longer “do it all.”  Brayton and Wyatt have adapted beautifully.  I am amazed how they are able to entertain themselves, now.  They build Lego guns and forts out of couch cushions and blankets. 

Wyatt is still getting up twice in the middle of the night.  He’s 5 months old now, I’m ready for a good night’s sleep.  However, I’m going to have to relearn how to do that because I wake up every few hours whether Wyatt is awake or not.  He is such a happy baby.  He has the most beautiful smile and he uses it constantly.  It is almost loud, it is so big.   

I’ve started walking the dogs after Wyatt goes to bed.  Brayton and Walker go along to ride their bikes.  It feels good to be giving them some love, attention, and exercise.  It has been a really long time. 

I’m reading St. Therese of Lisieux’s autobiography, after reading several books about Mother Teresa.  I have a strong desire to read about the lives of all the saints, especially women.  I don’t desire to suffer, as these saints did.  I suppose when a person is close to sainthood, they see the unmatched beauty and sanctification which takes place in a soul through suffering.

My friend, Kathy, has just experienced my worst fear…watching one of her children die.  I pray that God never sends me this trial.  I wonder if God is going to send me more children, even though Brett would like to be done.  More and more, I understand my vocation to be that of a wife and mother - Providing an environment conducive for cultivating healthy and holy souls. (end)

Mark 10:45 tells us "For the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many."

Ransom is defined as "The release of property or a person in return for payment of a demanded price."  Christ paid the price of our sins with His life.  My calling is to be as Christ.  My life is to be spent as a downpayment, so that my children may accept Christ's payment for their sins.  If I don't lead them to believe in Him and accept His payment for their sins with my life, who will?  How can they be released from their debt if they don't acknowledge that it has been paid?

Dear God of Summer and All Things Therein, Thank you for the change of seasons.  Thank you for summer and for swimming pools and the opportunity to be home with my children.  Please help me to spend my life joyfully and with great love for them.  They depend on me to do this well.  Please inspire me as to how I can provide the best environment for cultivating healthy and holy souls.  This is time that I will never get back.  Please help me to remember that.  Amen.

Are You Dead, Yet?

I heard this poem several weeks ago on Red-C radio. I googled it this morning and found it on a website called Yahweh's Sword. This ties in perfectly with the "little deaths" I was talking about yesterday.

Dying To Self
When you are forgotten, or neglected,
or purposely set at naught, and you
don't sting or hurt with the insult or
the oversight, but your heart is happy,
being counted worthy to suffer for YAHSHUA,
THAT IS DYING TO SELF.
When your good is evil spoken of,
when your wishes are misunderstood
your advise disregarded, your opinions
ridiculed, and you refuse to let anger
rise in your heart, or even defend
yourself, but take it all in patient, loving silence,
THAT IS DYING TO SELF.
When you lovingly and patiently bear
any disorder, any irregularity, any
unpunctuality, or any annoyance; when
you stand face to face with waste, folly,
extravagance, spiritual insensibility-
and endure it as YAHSHUA endured,
THAT IS DYING TO SELF.
When you are content with any food,
any offering, any climate, any society,
any raiment, any interruption
by the will of YAHWEH,
THAT IS DYING TO SELF.
When you never care to refer to your-
self in conversation, or to record your
own good works, or itch after commendations,
when you can truly love to be unknown,
THAT IS DYING TO SELF.
When you can see your brother prosper
and have his needs met and can honestly
rejoice with him in spirit and feel no envy,
nor question YAHWEH while your own
needs are greater and in desperate circumstances,
THAT IS DYING TO SELF.
When you can receive correction and
reproof from one of less stature than your-
self and can humbly submit inwardly as
well as outwardly, finding no rebellion
or resentment rising up within your heart,
THAT IS DYING TO SELF.
Are you dead yet?

Dear Heavenly Father, Thank you for loving us. Please convict us of your love, so that we may joyfully and willingly die to ourselves daily, as a response to Your love. Amen.

Choices

This is sort of Part B to yesterday's post... From time to time, I realize the weight that each choice in my life carries and how unconciously or selfishly I make them most of the time. 

I felt continual pressure and guilt when my kids were younger (before they started school). When I was cooking or cleaning, I felt like I should be spending time with my boys. When I was spending time with my boys, I felt like I should be doing something around the house. I became very occupied with trying to figure out how much of my day was supposed to be spent with my kiddos. I even called and wrote to Focus on the Family. My thinking was that if we know how many hours of sleep the average person needs, surely they can figure out, on average, what percentage of our time needs to be spent engaging our kids. However, they were no help. They just assured me that I was a good mother for even asking the question, said there's no way to know (the same kid can have different needs on different days), and left me to my own devices.

Following is my journal entry from January 16, 2011, which illustrates one of the times when my choices forced me to look at them head-on:

I am wondering how many choices I make in a day's time.  Not about what to eat or what to wear, but about what to do next.  There are things I now do automatically because of choices I made a long time ago.  For example, today is Sunday.  I will go to church at 11.  No brainer.  This no longer registers as a choice in my brain.  Just as, when I wake up every morning, I drink a cup of coffee and read something to feed my spirit and help me live my beliefs.  So today, I'm going to focus on those moments when I am choosing what to do next, not the choices that are made for me, like  making meals to feed my family, changing a diaper, etc...  I want to make choices based on what is important to me.  (end)
For the 7 days that followed, I kept track of how many actual choices I made during a normal work day.  The number of recorded choices I made in a day ranged from 4 to 13.  Anything from playing Legos, sweeping the floor, to reading a book.  The choices can be lumped into three groups:  Spending time with the kids, Cleaning/Cooking/Errands, Doing something for myself.  Out of 39 total choices, the boys got 46% of my time, the house/chores got 33%, and I got 21%.

I am happy to see that my boys got more time than anything else, but I also know it isn't always that way.  I want to give them more of myself, but they are getting older and don't seem very interested most of the time.  They would rather play a video game or play with their friends.  After all, I'm not very good at playing guns or swords (probably because I don't really know what to do and I don't really enjoy it).  Instead, I offer to play Uno, Battleship, but that isn't usually what they have in mind, either.  I think this is a natural progression, but in the poorly lit corner of my mind, I still wonder "Maybe they just gave up on me a long time ago (because I've been too selfish) and they have ruled me out as somebody to play with."

The important thing for me to realize is that it is not about whether or not they take me up on my offer.  It is about seeking them out and offering them my most coveted gift, my time.  If they don't accept, then I can let go of the guilt (at least for a little while).  So, for now, I will make it a point to make myself available to each one of my boys at least once a day, and they can take it or leave it. I'm going to write their names on the white board on my refrigerator.  Once I've offered, I'll put a smiley face by their name.  Accountability is good.

"The diminuitive chains of habit are generally too small to be felt, till they are too strong to be broken."  - Unknown-

Dear Heavenly Father, I am going to have to stand before you one day and give an account for my life.  I am going to see all of the times when I passed up opportunities to love and serve You, my family, and those people you have placed in my life.  Please forgive me where I have fallen short.  Please give me the grace to do better by living more selflessly, starting right now.  Thank you for time, chances, and choices.  You are a loving, generous, and merciful God.  I love you.  Amen.

"It Is Your Job to Pick Up the Plates"

Today, I'm sharing an entry from last year.   You can probably relate.  If not, you are probably grateful you cannot.  A lot has changed in one year, but my prayer at the end is still the same.  I must not think of things I don't like to do as things I shouldn't have to do!  Lord, help me.  Amen.

March 22, 2011 – Paper Plates 

Hmm…Thoughts on staying home…Just returned from KS yesterday.  I’m always so relieved to be home, and on a high the first night, just to be back in my own space.  However, the reality settles in the next morning.  I am at the mercy of my kids all day.  My house is neither clean, nor my kids easy to please.  It seems like almost everything I do is for them, but the only feedback I get is whining or complaining.  Get Wyatt dressed, make breakfast, work out (and feel so blessed to be able to do so), Wyatt down for a nap, do laundry, fix lunch, clean up lunch, go to airport to watch airplanes, grocery store, Wyatt down for second nap, pick up Bman from school, more laundry, clean kitchen, make dinner, baths, stories, and bed. 

We stopped by to see Brett at Disaster City (his workplace) since we were so close, as we were already at the airport.  He comes out of a crowded office building with so much going on.  I can tell we are interrupting him, but he is pleasant anyway.  Sometimes, I wish I had the immediate gratification of completing a job and making someone happy because I did so.  However, today it was like this…I pick up all of the paper plates on the floor and put them away, go to the bathroom, only to find plastic baggies everywhere, because of course Wyatt can’t put them back in the box he pulled them all out of!  It’s funny that when I leave the house, I forget there will be paper plates all over the kitchen floor when I return, because Wyatt got them all out again.  I just can’t seem to do a job and not have it undone, sometimes even before I finish.  It kills my motivation a little.  Okay, a lot.

I fantasize about a clean house and having more time to myself.  I know, I know.  It goes quickly.  Not in the span of a day, it doesn’t. 

I remind myself that God is my boss and I am living to please him.  Make sure my husband feels loved and respected.  Be kind to my kids.  Make sure they are clothed and fed and safe.  This is my means for sanctification.  Oh, Lord, please help me do it with a joyful heart.  I know how blessed I am, but that doesn’t seem to keep me from getting tired of picking up paper plates!

8:39pm - After reflecting on this as I was washing up supper dishes, I heard my Boss say, “It is your job to pick up the plates.”  I felt laughter and peace, thinking about this gentle correction.  He’s right.  Motherhood is not all parks and zoos and picnics.  Sometimes it is picking up 15 paper plates off of the kitchen floor several times a day (or moving them higher once.  But, he enjoys it so much, I reason).  Whatever it takes to keep my home and my family functioning well, is my job.  I’m sure I could execute this Mother role perfectly with perfect joy, if only I could be confident I am doing God’s will at each step. I must not think of things I don’t like to do as things I shouldn’t have to do!  Lord, help me.  Amen.

Selfish to Deny Help to Family or Friends?

This is Part 2 to the babysitting conversation.  Around the same time I made the journal entry that I posted yesterday, I emailed the following question to a Roman Catholic Spiritual Direction website.  Dear Father John, if Christians are called to charity, and we assume that our charity must cost us something (like time, comfort, or money), is there a time when we can justifiably deny a request without being selfish?  I'm an at-home mom and my friends often ask me to babysit for their children.  I always say "Yes", but only because it is difficult for me to do so, and I wonder if God is increasing my capacity to give.  Please visit the link below to see my question answered (in two parts) by Fr. John Bartunek.  By the way, this is a great website for all things Catholic and if you're interested, you can subscribe and get the daily post in your inbox.

http://rcspiritualdirection.com/blog/2011/10/24/am-i-being-selfish-by-denying-help-to-my-family-or-friends-part-i-of-ii-2

http://rcspiritualdirection.com/blog/2011/10/31/am-i-being-selfish-by-denying-help-to-my-family-or-friends-part-ii-of-ii