I have an incredible friend who offered to keep my boys for five days. (No, I will not email you her contact information :)). Today is Day 3. I talked to them last night and 2/3 wanted to come home. This morning I texted with a friend who I am planning to sit with during her chemo treatment this afternoon. She is the mother of ten. Incredibly beautiful, holy, and wise. When I told her that I would be there unless I had to pick up my kiddos, she said, "I never talk to my kids when they are away in the evening. Things always look brighter in the morning." Lesson learned.
Anyway, the past two days have been incredibly quiet, extremely productive, very relaxing, and awesome, in general. However, considering my time may end shortly, I've been thinking about what I enjoy most about being "free".
*I like waking up early and not having to be quiet, for fear of waking someone up.
*I like choosing what to do next. Filling up the hours of the day is fun, when you're not dragging a string of little people behind you.
*I like being able to run away from home. Somewhere other than on my street, because I don't want to be out of earshot when my kids are home.
*I like eating lunch out of town, just because I can.
In a word, I like the ability to "Go". I never feel more free than when I'm heading out to cover some great distance. Over the years (and prior to children), this has been on horseback, on foot, in a canoe, on a bicycle, or in a car. On horseback, I competed in endurance riding. Riding 25, 50, or 100 miles in a day. My first experience with the sport was driving a truck and trailer for a lady (in a group) who did this across the Pony Express trail. We were gone for two months, and they rode 2,000 miles. Prior to that, I biked across Kansas the long way (which is about 400 miles), with a guy who pushed his way in a wheelchair. After kids, almost every summer, my husband and I drive a long way, to hike a long way, in some part this incredible country.
One day, I'd like to walk across England (an article in a magazine that gave me that idea), the Appalachian trail, or the Continental Divide.
I've never really thought about why these things appeal to me so much, but if I had to guess, it would probably be because I like to feel free. I find God most easily in the quiet and in His Creation. And when I spend a prolonged period of time in the quiet and in Creation, I find Him most profoundly. There is also something planted deep within me that tells me I am made for a journey. And when I perceive with all of my senses that I am covering distance with my Creator, that something rings true.
We were not created to lead drab, narrow, or constricted lives, but to live in the wide-open spaces. We find confinement unbearable, simply because we were created in the image of God, and we have within us an unquenchable need for the absolute and the infinite.
Interior Freedom, Jacques Phillipe
However, as much as these first thoughts are noble and true, there is also part of it that rewards my selfishness - the shedding of responsibility. The escape. Which just goes to prove that all godly things don't have to feel bad. They can be good for God, and me. And they usually are. But, it doesn't really put life (especially a very blessed one like mine) in a very nice light - to talk about it as something that needs to be escaped from. It is not a prison, or a plantation before the Civil War.
Monotony, stress, exhaustion, etc... are only some of the accidental effects of any given vocation. What you need to get hold of, and examine, and pray about, and give thanks to God for, and not allow to go to waste is the substance. It is the vocation itself about which you must be sure: when you have got the cause right...You will begin to see a pattern about your life. It will not be a muddle of dreary duties that are mercifully interrupted every now and then by pleasures: it will be a related whole; it will have unity.
The greatest pleasures in life are not those that are superimposed - any more than they are those that represent escapes. The greatest and most lasting pleasures are those that emerge out of life itself. They are these that come in virtue of the vocation, not in spite of it. The taste of the fruit is not the sugar you put on it...As a rule, it is not that the fruit is bitter, but that we have a wrong idea of sweetness.
Holiness for Housewives (and other working women), Dom Hubert Van Zeller
*Note: A vocation is a strong inclination to follow a particular course of action; a divine call to God's service or to the Christian life.
Back to unity and reality...I have three kids who have zero interest in riding their bikes beyond the park that's only two blocks away. So, how do I create unity between these critical parts of who I am to them and what I want/need for me?
For now, I will work it out in little ways. Take the dog to Lick Creek park and "disappear" for a couple of hours. Go swimming at the local pool until I can't pause long enough on the end to catch my breath. Drive an hour to the National Forest and hike until I'm ready to stop. Canoe the Brazos. And of course, continually take my kids with me, as far as they're willing and able to go.
Which reminds me - I am at home. Alone. And the day is stretched out before me. Catch you later.
Dear Heavenly Father and Author of All That is Good,
Thank you for time to reflect on all of the good things You have given. Thank you for the phone call while I was writing this that said "All is well. Everyone wants to stay." Thank you for being available to me every second, of every minute of my lifetime. Thank you for the wisdom of mothers who have raised ten children or any one child, well. Thank you for a husband who I love to soak up the time with. Thank you for the beauty and wonder of Your Creation, and the way it draws us to You. Thank you for all of the opportunities in my life to set out on a journey. Thank you for the journey I'm on now, and for those to come. Please forgive my selfishness and help me always to recognize the substance of the work You have blessed me with. Please bless all parents! Especially those who are at home with little ones, who take two naps a day. Please bless those on the other end of life who are dying from loneliness - The ones who would give anything to spend a day with a child. Especially, Ms. Eva. Thank you for this day, and all days. Thank you for a home to be comfortable in. A home that I'm happy to leave and even happier to come home to. I love You. Amen.
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
Sunday, July 21, 2013
Friendship and the Power to Change the World
It's barely 8:00 on Sunday morning, and I have walked for 30 minutes, prayed the Rosary (during my walk), and finished my morning prayer. All of my boys are still asleep. I cannot tell you how good this feels! I want to share this with you, because it's new and it's happening because of the influence of one person.
Yesterday, I downloaded the Couch to 5K app on my phone, and headed out the door at 6:45am to begin Day 1. I arrived back home in 30 minutes sweaty and satisfied. I dropped my gym membership about a year ago, and haven't done much of anything since then. I just couldn't commit nor did I even want to. Until two days ago.
Two days ago, I got together with a friend who has three boys (like me) and a 7-month-old baby girl. She was wearing her workout clothes when we arrived, so I pressed about her exercise routine. She told me she gets up early before her kids wake and walks/jogs for 20 minutes, and she's not a runner. One of her earliest nicknames was "Turtle". This blew me away. She has one more little one than I do, is not "good" at running, and she was still finding a way to exercise!
Just knowing that she was doing it, was all I needed! She changed my world. There was other fruit from the time spent together as well, and I found myself marveling at the impact she made on me in the span of a morning.
It just so happens that my boys and I have had a lot of friend time this week, and I felt similarly inspired and challenged after each encounter. Feeling very blessed in friendship, pondering the impact of those friendships, and making concrete changes in my life because of them was the perfect thought environment to enter into the Living Life With Passion and Purpose talk by Matthew Kelly I attended yesterday.
He had a lot of compelling things to say about the voice of God, personal clarity, Jesus, and being who you should be, and I plan to ponder them for some time. I highly encourage you to check him out if you are looking to change your life in a powerful and positive way.
One of the things that really stuck with me was the idea of a Spectrum of Engagement. In any given area of our life (marriage, parenting, work, play) we engage anywhere from 100% to not-at-all. "We engage or disengage in EVERYTHING we do". He discussed what their research has shown about the two qualities highly engaged people always have:
1. They're committed to continuous learning.
2. They're hungry for best practices. (Who's the best in the world at this and what can I learn from them?)
He also discussed the idea of universal talent vs. unique talent. Universal talent is something we can all do. Our universal talent is the ability to make a difference in other people's lives. But, because we all have it, we tend to de-value it. This is in contrast to unique talent (being exceptional at something), which is the type of talent our culture is obsessed with. "Our culture takes what's important and makes it trivial, and takes what's trivial and makes it important."
These ideas took me back to thinking about my friends. My friends are highly engaged people. Only I never would have thought to label them before. This is what attracts me to them. This is why they challenge and inspire me. This is why I need to make a better effort (which in my case, is any), to spend time with them.
I am the beneficiary of my friends' universal talent - Their ability to make a difference in the lives of others, and specifically, my own. In my conscious thought, if I could choose between being the best in the world at something, or having the power to impact another's life for good, I would choose the second. Every time.
But, in my subconscious mind, it is easy to fantasize about the first and overlook the second. The "bests" in the world are easy to envy. Their lives are so "pretty" from the outside. But, this past week with my friends, and listening to Matthew Kelly reminded me of the power contained in friendship.
Fr. Scott Reilly says, "Every person is a world. Change one person, you change a world."
I don't know who is the best in the world at being a wife, a mother, or a friend. But, I know who are the best in my world, and that's all I need to know.
Dear Heavenly Father,
Thank you for my friends, and the power of their example!! Thank you for the opportunity to listen to Matthew Kelly speak yesterday and the seeds that were planted. Thank you for friends who reach out, even and especially when it's not "their turn". Please forgive my selfishness and lack of generosity. Please help me to value what is important, devalue what is trivial, and know the difference. Thank you for couch to 5K phone apps, and rosaries on podcast. Thank you for Sundays and the freedom we have in this country to worship You without fear. I love You and I thank You from the bottom of my heart for giving me companions on this journey who make me better. Amen.
Yesterday, I downloaded the Couch to 5K app on my phone, and headed out the door at 6:45am to begin Day 1. I arrived back home in 30 minutes sweaty and satisfied. I dropped my gym membership about a year ago, and haven't done much of anything since then. I just couldn't commit nor did I even want to. Until two days ago.
Two days ago, I got together with a friend who has three boys (like me) and a 7-month-old baby girl. She was wearing her workout clothes when we arrived, so I pressed about her exercise routine. She told me she gets up early before her kids wake and walks/jogs for 20 minutes, and she's not a runner. One of her earliest nicknames was "Turtle". This blew me away. She has one more little one than I do, is not "good" at running, and she was still finding a way to exercise!
Just knowing that she was doing it, was all I needed! She changed my world. There was other fruit from the time spent together as well, and I found myself marveling at the impact she made on me in the span of a morning.
It just so happens that my boys and I have had a lot of friend time this week, and I felt similarly inspired and challenged after each encounter. Feeling very blessed in friendship, pondering the impact of those friendships, and making concrete changes in my life because of them was the perfect thought environment to enter into the Living Life With Passion and Purpose talk by Matthew Kelly I attended yesterday.
He had a lot of compelling things to say about the voice of God, personal clarity, Jesus, and being who you should be, and I plan to ponder them for some time. I highly encourage you to check him out if you are looking to change your life in a powerful and positive way.
One of the things that really stuck with me was the idea of a Spectrum of Engagement. In any given area of our life (marriage, parenting, work, play) we engage anywhere from 100% to not-at-all. "We engage or disengage in EVERYTHING we do". He discussed what their research has shown about the two qualities highly engaged people always have:
1. They're committed to continuous learning.
2. They're hungry for best practices. (Who's the best in the world at this and what can I learn from them?)
He also discussed the idea of universal talent vs. unique talent. Universal talent is something we can all do. Our universal talent is the ability to make a difference in other people's lives. But, because we all have it, we tend to de-value it. This is in contrast to unique talent (being exceptional at something), which is the type of talent our culture is obsessed with. "Our culture takes what's important and makes it trivial, and takes what's trivial and makes it important."
These ideas took me back to thinking about my friends. My friends are highly engaged people. Only I never would have thought to label them before. This is what attracts me to them. This is why they challenge and inspire me. This is why I need to make a better effort (which in my case, is any), to spend time with them.
I am the beneficiary of my friends' universal talent - Their ability to make a difference in the lives of others, and specifically, my own. In my conscious thought, if I could choose between being the best in the world at something, or having the power to impact another's life for good, I would choose the second. Every time.
But, in my subconscious mind, it is easy to fantasize about the first and overlook the second. The "bests" in the world are easy to envy. Their lives are so "pretty" from the outside. But, this past week with my friends, and listening to Matthew Kelly reminded me of the power contained in friendship.
Fr. Scott Reilly says, "Every person is a world. Change one person, you change a world."
I don't know who is the best in the world at being a wife, a mother, or a friend. But, I know who are the best in my world, and that's all I need to know.
Dear Heavenly Father,
Thank you for my friends, and the power of their example!! Thank you for the opportunity to listen to Matthew Kelly speak yesterday and the seeds that were planted. Thank you for friends who reach out, even and especially when it's not "their turn". Please forgive my selfishness and lack of generosity. Please help me to value what is important, devalue what is trivial, and know the difference. Thank you for couch to 5K phone apps, and rosaries on podcast. Thank you for Sundays and the freedom we have in this country to worship You without fear. I love You and I thank You from the bottom of my heart for giving me companions on this journey who make me better. Amen.
Thursday, July 11, 2013
A Golden Calf named "Certainty"
I just got home from my Holy hour and am too excited to sleep about the epiphany I had when I was there.
I worship a golden calf named "Certainty".
I am willing (and greatly desire) to sacrifice my freedom to know that I am doing God's will. I beg God all the time, "Just make Your Will known to me, and I will do it." I'll accept anything from God except not knowing what He wants from me.
However, now that the hook I've been hanging all of my certainty and plans on for the past two years has been removed, I'm becoming a little more open-minded. The hook removal (not being accepted into the Spiritual Direction program) was also a good lesson in humility and detachment. Leaning too hard on anything, if it is not God Himself, is dangerous. Even if it is something good. Even if it is something you think He wants.
I've read several things over time that all came together tonight. Like when you pass the tipping point in Solitaire.
The progression went something like this...
"Does the way seem a stony one? Not one stone can impede your progress. Face the future, but face it only with a brave and happy heart. Do not seek to see it. You are robbing Faith of her sublime sweetness if you do this." ~God Calling
"And Christ still sends me roses. We try to be formed and held and kept by him, but instead he offers us freedom. And now when I try to know his will, his kindness floods me, his great love overwhelms me, and I hear him whisper, Surprise me. ~Mariette in Ecstasy, Ron Hansen
"Can we surprise God? Probably not in some ultimate metaphysical sense; God knows all in his dwelling place in eternity. But in our daily relationship with Jesus, I wouldn't dismiss the idea out of hand. We crave certainty; "instead he offers us freedom." This opens the door to surprise. Even if we don't surprise God, we can surprise ourselves." a simple life-changing prayer - Discovering the Power of St. Ignatius Loyola's Examen, Jim Manney
It makes sense that we crave certainty because we recognize how important doing the will of God is in the life of a Christian. It is paramount.
"The only thing that really matters in life is doing the will of God. Once you are doing the will of God, then everything matters. But apart from the accepted will of God, nothing has any lasting reality. So, If God wills that you should be bowed over the sink instead of over the pew in your favorite church, then washing the dishes is for you, now, the most perfect thing you can possibly do."
Holiness for Housewives (and other working women), Don Hubert Van Zeller
So, my freedom isn't the curse that is often feels like...Should I do this or that? Work or stay home? Write or not?
There is not a pencil thin line drawn through my life that is "God's will". It is not something that I should fear missing or messing up. It is not something I need to lean forward to catch a glimpse of, or strain my eyes to see. I am robbing Faith when I do that.
"God made the angels to show Him splendor - as He made animals for innocence and plants for their simplicity. But man He made to serve Him wittingly, in the tangle of his mind."
~A Man of All Seasons, Thomas More
My freedom is God's gift to me, and He does not intend to exchange it for certainty. About anything. This makes sense, because now I know that certainty is its own god. And my God will not put up with that.
Dear Awesome and Gentle God,
How could anyone but You make me feel good about the realization that I'm violating one of Your ten commandments?! How can an all-powerful God nudge so gently? I have been worshipping a false god, and I didn't even know it. Thank you for nights like tonight when the stuff of years aligns itself. Thank you for friendships which help me to know You, myself, and others better. Please forgive my attachment to all that is not You. Please give me the grace of Your Presence, rather than knowledge of Your plan. I'm sorry I've been trying to take something You never intended to give, and robbed Faith of her sweetness. I love the idea of trying to surprise You. I think I'll try it. I love You. Please make me love You more and more. Amen.
I worship a golden calf named "Certainty".
I am willing (and greatly desire) to sacrifice my freedom to know that I am doing God's will. I beg God all the time, "Just make Your Will known to me, and I will do it." I'll accept anything from God except not knowing what He wants from me.
However, now that the hook I've been hanging all of my certainty and plans on for the past two years has been removed, I'm becoming a little more open-minded. The hook removal (not being accepted into the Spiritual Direction program) was also a good lesson in humility and detachment. Leaning too hard on anything, if it is not God Himself, is dangerous. Even if it is something good. Even if it is something you think He wants.
I've read several things over time that all came together tonight. Like when you pass the tipping point in Solitaire.
The progression went something like this...
"Does the way seem a stony one? Not one stone can impede your progress. Face the future, but face it only with a brave and happy heart. Do not seek to see it. You are robbing Faith of her sublime sweetness if you do this." ~God Calling
"And Christ still sends me roses. We try to be formed and held and kept by him, but instead he offers us freedom. And now when I try to know his will, his kindness floods me, his great love overwhelms me, and I hear him whisper, Surprise me. ~Mariette in Ecstasy, Ron Hansen
"Can we surprise God? Probably not in some ultimate metaphysical sense; God knows all in his dwelling place in eternity. But in our daily relationship with Jesus, I wouldn't dismiss the idea out of hand. We crave certainty; "instead he offers us freedom." This opens the door to surprise. Even if we don't surprise God, we can surprise ourselves." a simple life-changing prayer - Discovering the Power of St. Ignatius Loyola's Examen, Jim Manney
It makes sense that we crave certainty because we recognize how important doing the will of God is in the life of a Christian. It is paramount.
"The only thing that really matters in life is doing the will of God. Once you are doing the will of God, then everything matters. But apart from the accepted will of God, nothing has any lasting reality. So, If God wills that you should be bowed over the sink instead of over the pew in your favorite church, then washing the dishes is for you, now, the most perfect thing you can possibly do."
Holiness for Housewives (and other working women), Don Hubert Van Zeller
So, my freedom isn't the curse that is often feels like...Should I do this or that? Work or stay home? Write or not?
There is not a pencil thin line drawn through my life that is "God's will". It is not something that I should fear missing or messing up. It is not something I need to lean forward to catch a glimpse of, or strain my eyes to see. I am robbing Faith when I do that.
"God made the angels to show Him splendor - as He made animals for innocence and plants for their simplicity. But man He made to serve Him wittingly, in the tangle of his mind."
~A Man of All Seasons, Thomas More
My freedom is God's gift to me, and He does not intend to exchange it for certainty. About anything. This makes sense, because now I know that certainty is its own god. And my God will not put up with that.
Dear Awesome and Gentle God,
How could anyone but You make me feel good about the realization that I'm violating one of Your ten commandments?! How can an all-powerful God nudge so gently? I have been worshipping a false god, and I didn't even know it. Thank you for nights like tonight when the stuff of years aligns itself. Thank you for friendships which help me to know You, myself, and others better. Please forgive my attachment to all that is not You. Please give me the grace of Your Presence, rather than knowledge of Your plan. I'm sorry I've been trying to take something You never intended to give, and robbed Faith of her sweetness. I love the idea of trying to surprise You. I think I'll try it. I love You. Please make me love You more and more. Amen.
Sunday, July 7, 2013
Six Thoughts in Four Days
My youngest brother got married yesterday. His wedding was as beautiful as his bride, who was so beautiful, I cried when I saw her. They are perfect for each other and I was beyond proud to be a part of it.
We got home from Kansas a few hours ago and my mind is busy with thoughts from the last four days. Being in a different environment with a lot of different people gave me some food for thought.
We got home from Kansas a few hours ago and my mind is busy with thoughts from the last four days. Being in a different environment with a lot of different people gave me some food for thought.
Thought 1: I don't like being around drunk people. It sounds harsh, but I don't respect them. I'm trying to put my finger on it, but I think it's a combination of a lack of self-control, the transformation from something genuine to something less so, and the idea of drinking to an end. The actual enjoyment of drinking seems to get lost in the pursuit of getting drunk. It reminds me of those people who compete in eating contests. They don't eat to enjoy the food, they eat to eat a lot. 40 hotdogs in how many minutes? Blech.
And yet, I envy their ability to enjoy themselves without regard for anyone else. I love the idea of blending in with the crowd, and enjoying myself in a room full of tipsy people. But, all I really want to do is run away, which makes me feel a bit like an uptight spinster, a prude, and a freak.
And yet, I envy their ability to enjoy themselves without regard for anyone else. I love the idea of blending in with the crowd, and enjoying myself in a room full of tipsy people. But, all I really want to do is run away, which makes me feel a bit like an uptight spinster, a prude, and a freak.
Maybe I'm missing out. I've never even had a good buzz, much less been drunk. I can't get past feeling my eyes move around in my head after one wine cooler. And how do people drink so much beer (or any liquid) without their stomachs crying out in protest? I can't imagine drinking 3 or 6 or 10 sodas in a row. There's something about it that is totally beyond me. All I really know, is that it has a lot of power over people, especially ones I love. And it is a power I loathe and distrust.
Thought 2: I love my husband. A lot. And my family loves him. A lot. But, he doesn't sit well for any length of time and he likes to be in his own house. We were only at my parent's for four full days. He was ready to go home at the end of day 2. I usually want to know how he's feeling, good or bad. But, I would rather not know this. When I realize it, I pick up and carry the burden of him wishing he were elsewhere. It disturbs my peace and dampens my joy. If I dwell on it, I begin to feel like he's stealing something from me. Something that I already have precious little of. Time with my family - who lives ten hours away - who I see about three times a year.
To be fair, there are two sides to every story, and I know I am not an attentive wife and mother when we go there. I'm distracted by conversation with whoever happens by, and busy sketching the plan of how to fit everyone in. Meanwhile, he's being hen-pecked (rooster-pecked?) by boys who want to ride the four-wheeler and shoot fireworks and start a fire and be pushed on the swing. Based on that alone, I can see why it isn't exactly the vacation for him that it is for me. But, it would be nice if it were.
Thought 3: I never thought I could get tired of hearing good things about myself or anyone else. But, I can. On all accounts. I don't tire of thinking good things about others, but I do tire of talking about them.
Thought 4: My boys are growing up. They need me for little and want me for the same. So, after no nap and an unsuccessful search for "Bear", his best friend and constant companion, my 4-year-old fell asleep on me at the wedding reception. This is the boy who doesn't give hugs and kisses anymore and loves to tell me how pretty I don't look. He slept so hard, he peed his pants, and mine. I was in heaven, just the same.
They really do grow up. As parents of young children, we're careful to record our baby's and toddler's "firsts". First tooth, first word, first step, first haircut, etc... But there are as many "lasts" as there are firsts. (Like, maybe, hopefully not, but maybe, holding a pee-soaked 4-year-old on your lap for the last time). Lasts just aren't so obvious. And that's a good thing because we might never stop crying over the things that will be no more.
Thought 5: On the other end of life, I reminisced with one of my Dad's old friends about water fights and days gone by. He's been doing the chemo/radiation routine to fight cancer for awhile now. There's no hope of eradicating it, they're just trying to slow it down. When we said goodbye, he said, "I hope to see you again while I'm still alive." I choked back the tears and said, "Me, too", knowing that I wouldn't.
Saying your last goodbye to a dying man in the middle of a party isn't something that makes any emotional sense. This man and his wife were the couple who "caught" the bouquet at my wedding. We gave it to the couple who had been married the longest, and that was ten years ago. While the young newlyweds danced the night away on hearts full of promise and dreams, time is running out for a man and wife who have lived them, and tucked them away. They still have promises and dreams, but they are for eternity and those they'll leave behind.
Thought 6: I regret not slow-dancing with my husband. I assumed we would early on, but I ended up holding my son, talking, or cleaning up. When I realized that it was almost time to leave, I listened intently for a good slow-dance song, but one never came. By the end of the night, I only danced to one song, and that was with my brother, the groom - for a dollar.
I should have done better than that. I guess we don't have to wait for somebody to get married to dance. We have music and a hardwood floor at home. But, we also have a TV, and a computer, and little kids. Maybe we just need a date night...
Dear Author of all that is good,
Thank you for our safe travel today. Thank you for the guardian angels who watched over us. Thank you for my little brother and his new wife. Please watch over them as they leave for their honeymoon tomorrow, and all the days of their lives. Thank you for families that just keep growing. Thank you for parents who pray and invest in their kids, and in their kids' kids. Please bless Ed and his wife as he continues treatment. Thank you for their example and their love.
Thank you for the freedom we have in this country. Please help us to use it in a way that pleases You. Thank you for fireworks, and every other reason we have to cast our eyes heavenward.
Lord, please grant me wisdom and compassion where alcohol is concerned. I don't know what I don't know, and I need You to show me.
Lord, please help me to be grateful for "what is", so that I may not live with regret when it is no longer. In Your Wisdom, you spared us the constant awareness of those things that slip away from us. Thank You. Please help me redeem the mistakes I've made this past week in the week ahead. And please bless my family, friends, and all whom I include in my poor prayers. Amen.
To be fair, there are two sides to every story, and I know I am not an attentive wife and mother when we go there. I'm distracted by conversation with whoever happens by, and busy sketching the plan of how to fit everyone in. Meanwhile, he's being hen-pecked (rooster-pecked?) by boys who want to ride the four-wheeler and shoot fireworks and start a fire and be pushed on the swing. Based on that alone, I can see why it isn't exactly the vacation for him that it is for me. But, it would be nice if it were.
Thought 3: I never thought I could get tired of hearing good things about myself or anyone else. But, I can. On all accounts. I don't tire of thinking good things about others, but I do tire of talking about them.
Thought 4: My boys are growing up. They need me for little and want me for the same. So, after no nap and an unsuccessful search for "Bear", his best friend and constant companion, my 4-year-old fell asleep on me at the wedding reception. This is the boy who doesn't give hugs and kisses anymore and loves to tell me how pretty I don't look. He slept so hard, he peed his pants, and mine. I was in heaven, just the same.
They really do grow up. As parents of young children, we're careful to record our baby's and toddler's "firsts". First tooth, first word, first step, first haircut, etc... But there are as many "lasts" as there are firsts. (Like, maybe, hopefully not, but maybe, holding a pee-soaked 4-year-old on your lap for the last time). Lasts just aren't so obvious. And that's a good thing because we might never stop crying over the things that will be no more.
Thought 5: On the other end of life, I reminisced with one of my Dad's old friends about water fights and days gone by. He's been doing the chemo/radiation routine to fight cancer for awhile now. There's no hope of eradicating it, they're just trying to slow it down. When we said goodbye, he said, "I hope to see you again while I'm still alive." I choked back the tears and said, "Me, too", knowing that I wouldn't.
Saying your last goodbye to a dying man in the middle of a party isn't something that makes any emotional sense. This man and his wife were the couple who "caught" the bouquet at my wedding. We gave it to the couple who had been married the longest, and that was ten years ago. While the young newlyweds danced the night away on hearts full of promise and dreams, time is running out for a man and wife who have lived them, and tucked them away. They still have promises and dreams, but they are for eternity and those they'll leave behind.
Thought 6: I regret not slow-dancing with my husband. I assumed we would early on, but I ended up holding my son, talking, or cleaning up. When I realized that it was almost time to leave, I listened intently for a good slow-dance song, but one never came. By the end of the night, I only danced to one song, and that was with my brother, the groom - for a dollar.
I should have done better than that. I guess we don't have to wait for somebody to get married to dance. We have music and a hardwood floor at home. But, we also have a TV, and a computer, and little kids. Maybe we just need a date night...
Dear Author of all that is good,
Thank you for our safe travel today. Thank you for the guardian angels who watched over us. Thank you for my little brother and his new wife. Please watch over them as they leave for their honeymoon tomorrow, and all the days of their lives. Thank you for families that just keep growing. Thank you for parents who pray and invest in their kids, and in their kids' kids. Please bless Ed and his wife as he continues treatment. Thank you for their example and their love.
Thank you for the freedom we have in this country. Please help us to use it in a way that pleases You. Thank you for fireworks, and every other reason we have to cast our eyes heavenward.
Lord, please grant me wisdom and compassion where alcohol is concerned. I don't know what I don't know, and I need You to show me.
Lord, please help me to be grateful for "what is", so that I may not live with regret when it is no longer. In Your Wisdom, you spared us the constant awareness of those things that slip away from us. Thank You. Please help me redeem the mistakes I've made this past week in the week ahead. And please bless my family, friends, and all whom I include in my poor prayers. Amen.
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
Rejected
I got the call from the Institute for Spiritual Direction today. I applied for their Spiritual Director program this Spring, and interviewed last week. The director of the program said they (the board) believe I have a calling to be a Spiritual Director, but "not right now". I need more time to "do what you're doing."
My disbelief has grown with each passing hour. Not because I'm so awesome, but how could I be so wrong?! How can I still be too young when I've already been waiting to begin this program for two years, and wouldn't be finished with the program for three more?!! How not ready can I be?
The director told me at my interview that the selection process was a discernment, which in this case, meant there was prayer involved. And I don't think a group of prayerful people can really screw up God's plan. Can they?
My pride wants to send a long email explaining how I became a caregiver at age 16, and detail all of the other things that make me older (wiser) than my age might tell. 1Timothy 4:12 flies into my brain as a rebuttal: Let no one have contempt for your youth, but set an example for those who believe, in speech, conduct, love, faith, and purity.
But, then I think of the example. Jesus. Isaiah 53:7 - Though harshly treated, he submitted and did not open his mouth; Like a lamb led to slaughter or a sheep silent before the shearers, he did not open his mouth.
And He was God.
I'm just a human being who's feeling a little misunderstood and very confused.
Aside from being 100% certain that my husband was the man I wanted to marry, I have never felt so sure of anything.
The self-doubt is creeping in and the ground is feeling a little shaky. Maybe it's a coincidence (are there such things?), but our A/C went out on Friday. When we learned the price of the replacement, I started wondering if I need to be working. I have no idea. Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done...
My disbelief has grown with each passing hour. Not because I'm so awesome, but how could I be so wrong?! How can I still be too young when I've already been waiting to begin this program for two years, and wouldn't be finished with the program for three more?!! How not ready can I be?
The director told me at my interview that the selection process was a discernment, which in this case, meant there was prayer involved. And I don't think a group of prayerful people can really screw up God's plan. Can they?
My pride wants to send a long email explaining how I became a caregiver at age 16, and detail all of the other things that make me older (wiser) than my age might tell. 1Timothy 4:12 flies into my brain as a rebuttal: Let no one have contempt for your youth, but set an example for those who believe, in speech, conduct, love, faith, and purity.
But, then I think of the example. Jesus. Isaiah 53:7 - Though harshly treated, he submitted and did not open his mouth; Like a lamb led to slaughter or a sheep silent before the shearers, he did not open his mouth.
And He was God.
I'm just a human being who's feeling a little misunderstood and very confused.
Aside from being 100% certain that my husband was the man I wanted to marry, I have never felt so sure of anything.
The self-doubt is creeping in and the ground is feeling a little shaky. Maybe it's a coincidence (are there such things?), but our A/C went out on Friday. When we learned the price of the replacement, I started wondering if I need to be working. I have no idea. Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done...
The Desire to Please God
My Lord God, I have no idea where I
am going, I do not see the road ahead of
me. I cannot know for certain where it
will end. Nor do I really know myself,
and the fact that I think I am
following your will does not mean that
I am actually doing so. But I believe
that the desire to please you does in
fact please you. And I hope I have that
desire in all that I am doing. I hope
that I will never do anything apart
from that desire. And I know that if I
do this you will lead me by the right
road, though I may know nothing
about it. Therefore, I will trust you
always though I may seem to be lost
and in the shadow of death. I will not
fear, for you are ever with me, and you
will never leave me to face my perils
alone. Thomas Merton
Sunday, June 16, 2013
A Concussion and an "F" for Trust
Happy Father's Day to you and yours! It's been a good one for us. Sleeping in, Mass, and eating out make for a pretty great day. I also emailed my Dad the links to my posts where I wrote about him (A "Rough" Life - A Tribute to my Grandma, Uncle, and my Dad). He doesn't do blogs, but it occurred to me that he might better understand how much I love and respect him if he could read what I had written. He was deeply moved, printed it off, and put it in his Bible. Happy Fathers Day, Dad.
Two weeks ago today, my husband (and the father of my children) got a concussion when he and his skateboard parted ways. I was at the swimming pool (roughly 100 yards away) when it happened. My oldest son came and told me "Dad has a concussion, but he's fine. He's up and walking around". I clambered out of the pool to go see what in the world was going on.
As I was gathering our stuff, my husband walked into the pool, saying he thinks he has a concussion, was seeing stars, and half of his vision was blurry. He wasn't really sure what happened or if he lost consciousness, so I sat him down on the pool steps and went to investigate. What I found was a pool of blood in the bottom of the skate bowl. At the time, I couldn't find any witnesses, so I assumed he was knocked out because he laid there long enough to make a puddle of blood (from his elbow) the size of my footprints.
I did my best to wash the blood away and we loaded up to go home. He had virtually no memory of the day and began to ask a series of questions, which went something like this..."What happened? Was I awesome? Did anyone see? Was I unconscious? What happened? Was I awesome? Did anyone see? Was I unconscious? What happened? Was I awesome? Did anyone see? Was I unconscious? What happened? Was I awesome? Did anyone see? Was I unconscious?..."
You get the idea. I worked for an ambulance service for 6 years, so I knew he had a concussion at least, and was worried he might have bleeding in his brain. I waited for a couple of hours to see if his symptoms (repetitive questioning and memory loss) would improve, but they persisted.
To make a long story short, we ended up in the ER. He had a CAT scan which showed no bleeding on his brain and he got three stitches in his elbow. He took the following day off of work for "brain rest". Aside from a sore neck and elbow, and a little light sensitivity, he was back to good.
But, then I wasn't so good. The more I thought about what happened, the more I had my own series of thoughts that went something like this...
"It freaks me out that my husband was lying unconscious (or something close to it) 100 yards away from me and I didn't have any idea. I guess I always thought that if something happened to him I would somehow know. A gut check or something. Nope. Nothin'. What if it was worse? What if his brain had bled, and he had a stroke or an aneurysm? What if he had broken his neck? If he died, financially we would be able to make it, but if he's disabled and it didn't happen at work, we'd have nothing. I am totally dependent on him and his good health. This vulnerability feels like crap. Should I get a full-time job?..."
This went on for about two days. I was pulling back emotionally and he knew it. He was telling me not to dwell on what could of happened, and that I couldn't love him any less because of some dumb accident. But, I was trying to. I don't want to be physically, emotionally, psychologically, and financially dependent on someone who could check out at any minute! I told him he was a liability, and he was quick to let me know that I was one, too. Then, he said something to the effect of, that's what happens when you get married...
Hmmm....
Good point. He would be in as much of a fix if something happened to me, as I would be if something happened to him. Not for a paycheck, but for someone to run the household and take care of the kiddos, and all of the other things wives do.
After this conversation, and by God's grace, I started to realize that the only problem I had was a trust problem. In the unusual circumstance of seeing my husband incapacitated, I withdrew my trust from God, and put it in myself. Only, I quickly realized how drastically short I came from being able to provide the solution that I was trusting myself for. If this whole scenario was a test for my trust in God, I'd have a Big 'ol "F" over here...
As Providence would have it, one of the Mass readings during this time was from Tobit 2:9-14. In the story, Tobit became blind for four years after some birds pooped on his eyes. (I'm not making this up!) Eventually, his wife weaved cloth and provided for the family, and life went on...
Duh.
God has provided for me for 35 years. Some of those years, he provided for me through my parents. Others, I provided for myself. For the last 10 years, my husband has provided for me and our family. If something were to happen to him (God forbid!), God would continue to provide for me. Yes, it would look different. Very, very different. But, I would have what I need. Just like I always have.
It is a paradox to be sure, but our security is our vulnerability. It doesn't matter if I like it. It's just the way it is.
Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat [or drink], or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds in the sky; they do not sow or reap, they gather nothing into barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are not you more important than they? Can any of you by worrying add a single moment to your life-span? Matthew 6:25-27
Dear Heavenly Father, Happy Father's Day!!! Thank you for being The Father of fathers, King of kings, and Lord of lords! Thank you for fathers who help us believe in You and Your love for us. Thank you for my husband and the way my kids will emulate him even before they recognize his greatness. Thank you for his health and the big lesson in humility and trust, when it was compromised, even for a short time. Please bless him with good health and a long life.
Lord, please draw near to those who don't know what a good father is. Make Yourself known to them! Please grant the grace of forgiveness to those who need it.
Abba, I love You. Thank You for loving us first! Make us love You more and more. Amen.
Two weeks ago today, my husband (and the father of my children) got a concussion when he and his skateboard parted ways. I was at the swimming pool (roughly 100 yards away) when it happened. My oldest son came and told me "Dad has a concussion, but he's fine. He's up and walking around". I clambered out of the pool to go see what in the world was going on.
As I was gathering our stuff, my husband walked into the pool, saying he thinks he has a concussion, was seeing stars, and half of his vision was blurry. He wasn't really sure what happened or if he lost consciousness, so I sat him down on the pool steps and went to investigate. What I found was a pool of blood in the bottom of the skate bowl. At the time, I couldn't find any witnesses, so I assumed he was knocked out because he laid there long enough to make a puddle of blood (from his elbow) the size of my footprints.
I did my best to wash the blood away and we loaded up to go home. He had virtually no memory of the day and began to ask a series of questions, which went something like this..."What happened? Was I awesome? Did anyone see? Was I unconscious? What happened? Was I awesome? Did anyone see? Was I unconscious? What happened? Was I awesome? Did anyone see? Was I unconscious? What happened? Was I awesome? Did anyone see? Was I unconscious?..."
You get the idea. I worked for an ambulance service for 6 years, so I knew he had a concussion at least, and was worried he might have bleeding in his brain. I waited for a couple of hours to see if his symptoms (repetitive questioning and memory loss) would improve, but they persisted.
To make a long story short, we ended up in the ER. He had a CAT scan which showed no bleeding on his brain and he got three stitches in his elbow. He took the following day off of work for "brain rest". Aside from a sore neck and elbow, and a little light sensitivity, he was back to good.
But, then I wasn't so good. The more I thought about what happened, the more I had my own series of thoughts that went something like this...
"It freaks me out that my husband was lying unconscious (or something close to it) 100 yards away from me and I didn't have any idea. I guess I always thought that if something happened to him I would somehow know. A gut check or something. Nope. Nothin'. What if it was worse? What if his brain had bled, and he had a stroke or an aneurysm? What if he had broken his neck? If he died, financially we would be able to make it, but if he's disabled and it didn't happen at work, we'd have nothing. I am totally dependent on him and his good health. This vulnerability feels like crap. Should I get a full-time job?..."
This went on for about two days. I was pulling back emotionally and he knew it. He was telling me not to dwell on what could of happened, and that I couldn't love him any less because of some dumb accident. But, I was trying to. I don't want to be physically, emotionally, psychologically, and financially dependent on someone who could check out at any minute! I told him he was a liability, and he was quick to let me know that I was one, too. Then, he said something to the effect of, that's what happens when you get married...
Hmmm....
Good point. He would be in as much of a fix if something happened to me, as I would be if something happened to him. Not for a paycheck, but for someone to run the household and take care of the kiddos, and all of the other things wives do.
After this conversation, and by God's grace, I started to realize that the only problem I had was a trust problem. In the unusual circumstance of seeing my husband incapacitated, I withdrew my trust from God, and put it in myself. Only, I quickly realized how drastically short I came from being able to provide the solution that I was trusting myself for. If this whole scenario was a test for my trust in God, I'd have a Big 'ol "F" over here...
As Providence would have it, one of the Mass readings during this time was from Tobit 2:9-14. In the story, Tobit became blind for four years after some birds pooped on his eyes. (I'm not making this up!) Eventually, his wife weaved cloth and provided for the family, and life went on...
Duh.
God has provided for me for 35 years. Some of those years, he provided for me through my parents. Others, I provided for myself. For the last 10 years, my husband has provided for me and our family. If something were to happen to him (God forbid!), God would continue to provide for me. Yes, it would look different. Very, very different. But, I would have what I need. Just like I always have.
It is a paradox to be sure, but our security is our vulnerability. It doesn't matter if I like it. It's just the way it is.
Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat [or drink], or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds in the sky; they do not sow or reap, they gather nothing into barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are not you more important than they? Can any of you by worrying add a single moment to your life-span? Matthew 6:25-27
Dear Heavenly Father, Happy Father's Day!!! Thank you for being The Father of fathers, King of kings, and Lord of lords! Thank you for fathers who help us believe in You and Your love for us. Thank you for my husband and the way my kids will emulate him even before they recognize his greatness. Thank you for his health and the big lesson in humility and trust, when it was compromised, even for a short time. Please bless him with good health and a long life.
Lord, please draw near to those who don't know what a good father is. Make Yourself known to them! Please grant the grace of forgiveness to those who need it.
Abba, I love You. Thank You for loving us first! Make us love You more and more. Amen.
Sunday, June 2, 2013
Cigarette Burns and Pooping in the Bedroom
I'm thinking I'd rather be in bed right now, but I have too many details from other people's lives swirling around in my head (again). I have a friend who marvels at how the world is big enough to hold all of the stories that it contains. I'm starting to wonder the same thing.
My boys were eager to get back to the skate park after being out of town for a few days, so we headed up this afternoon with a cooler of drinks in tow. Bringing food and drinks for the skaters was part of the resolution we made at my last women's meeting, in an effort to "love the sinner, but hate the sin". It sounds presumptuous and judgmental even to write it. Of course, skating is not sinful, but there are a lot of other things that often go with the skating lifestyle...Sex, drugs, rock and roll?, rebellion, tattoos/piercings and language that would make a sailor blush.
They're not worse sinners than me, or people who dress well, or people who keep their lips buttoned. They're just not so careful about covering it up. Sort of refreshing in its own way, if you think about it. The point is that these kids need love like everyone else on the planet. They're just not (always) the most approachable or easy to love.
I took my seat at a picnic table, and in 5 minutes, (I think my little guys were inviting them) there were 6 dudes at my table throwing back drinks and talking to me for the first time. I'd seen several of them before, and one was quick to say "Y'all are the coolest parents that come up here." And I thought I'd been invisible every time...
Most of them came and went, but two stuck around. It didn't take long to notice the (nine) cigarette burns running down the right side of the skinny, shirtless one. As I was talking to him, I kept thinking how he looked like Jesus. Not just because we're supposed to see Jesus in everybody, but for real. His hair was dark and almost shoulder length, and his eyes were honest. I told him he had great hair. He said "thanks", showed me how he couldn't get his fingers through it, and shared his dreadlock plans with me.
In short time, I learned he's almost 20. He lives with a roommate (who has nine cigarette burns down his left side) and his anti-social girlfriend. Their self-inflicted cigarette burns are a memorial to their friend who died when he was hit by a train. Apparently, he convinced eighteen friends to burn him with cigarettes, so they each did half in his memory.
He has one brother and thirteen sisters. They are mostly "half" sisters, because his mother was a "crack whore", so their dads are all different. They were all eventually adopted by the same family, but they "never really cared what I did". He said the best piece of advice he's ever received was, "You only live once, so you better enjoy it the first time around." I countered with the idea that there are a lot of things that are good for you that don't necessarily feel good. He acquiesced, but followed with, "But, only if you have to."
His goodness came through when we started talking about the three-year-old boy I've seen up there. He said he saw somebody give him a cigarette once. It was the only time he beat somebody up. "You don't give cigarettes to a three-year-old." Agreed. He went back to skating and circled around every time he got thirsty.
The other guy made me want to cry...
After describing himself as a "roller coaster addict", he painstakingly described a "Haunted Adventure" house experience, and said we should never go. I very sincerely told him that we wouldn't. Little by little, the conversation moved from this scary fake experience to his scary real experience. He jumped around between mission school this, and group home that. There was something about how he and his sister were left beside a Georgia highway when he was a baby, and his struggles with a learning disability. Later on, he and his sister were adopted, but only to be sexually and mentally abused. His adoptive mother locked them in their rooms and wouldn't let them out. "If I had to go #1 or #2, I had to go in my bedroom because she wouldn't let us out." He and his sister communicated through an air vent. They were eventually put in foster care and bounced around the system.
He pulled up his shirt to show me his rose tattoo in honor of Lady Gaga. Apparently, he's a big fan, she has something similar, and that is good enough for him. His vulnerability was palpable, and when he showed me that he knew the alphabet in sign language, I could see his hand trembling. He is 24-years-old. He is looking for a job and planning to start school in the Fall. He lives with a lady who ran a group home where he previously lived, and her children. He affectionately calls her Mom. He attends Church with her dad. He knows he makes mistakes, he knows God forgives him, and believes "I am a man of God."
My sons were "in and out" during these conversations, but my 8-year-old caught on that the second guy had suffered a lot and heard me repeat something I heard Mother Angelica say once. "When we are suffering, that is when we are most like Christ. If we are not like Him at any other time, we are like Him when we are suffering." To this, my son said, "I guess I've suffered." I said, "No, you haven't." He said, "I've suffered a little. My great-grandmother just died." I said, "Yes, but you didn't suffer." And he said, "I guess I wasn't really that sad." Right.
I vacillate between thinking it is and isn't good for my kids to be at the skate park. Today, it was good. It was good because they got to see that these kids are "nice". Even if they use bad language or have metal in their face. It was good because my oldest son heard about real suffering, and consequently, realized that he has not really suffered. Having parents who love you enough to make you go to bed at night, chores here and there, and something other than your favorite food for dinner is not suffering. In lieu of going to Africa to appreciate what we have, I think we'll be going back to the skate park. We still have a lot to learn.
Dear God, I don't know how I continue to meet so many people with such painful and incredible stories. I can only assume that you are "hooking us up", so thank you for the privilege of being on the listening end. Lord, have mercy on these kids, and on their parents, who will have to give an account for them on the day they meet You face to face. Please, give me the grace to show them Your Goodness, Truth, Light, and Love. Thank you for my Regnum Christi sister, Robye, who provided the drinks I brought today, and all of those who spur me on in my faith. God, bless us all. Amen.
My boys were eager to get back to the skate park after being out of town for a few days, so we headed up this afternoon with a cooler of drinks in tow. Bringing food and drinks for the skaters was part of the resolution we made at my last women's meeting, in an effort to "love the sinner, but hate the sin". It sounds presumptuous and judgmental even to write it. Of course, skating is not sinful, but there are a lot of other things that often go with the skating lifestyle...Sex, drugs, rock and roll?, rebellion, tattoos/piercings and language that would make a sailor blush.
They're not worse sinners than me, or people who dress well, or people who keep their lips buttoned. They're just not so careful about covering it up. Sort of refreshing in its own way, if you think about it. The point is that these kids need love like everyone else on the planet. They're just not (always) the most approachable or easy to love.
I took my seat at a picnic table, and in 5 minutes, (I think my little guys were inviting them) there were 6 dudes at my table throwing back drinks and talking to me for the first time. I'd seen several of them before, and one was quick to say "Y'all are the coolest parents that come up here." And I thought I'd been invisible every time...
Most of them came and went, but two stuck around. It didn't take long to notice the (nine) cigarette burns running down the right side of the skinny, shirtless one. As I was talking to him, I kept thinking how he looked like Jesus. Not just because we're supposed to see Jesus in everybody, but for real. His hair was dark and almost shoulder length, and his eyes were honest. I told him he had great hair. He said "thanks", showed me how he couldn't get his fingers through it, and shared his dreadlock plans with me.
In short time, I learned he's almost 20. He lives with a roommate (who has nine cigarette burns down his left side) and his anti-social girlfriend. Their self-inflicted cigarette burns are a memorial to their friend who died when he was hit by a train. Apparently, he convinced eighteen friends to burn him with cigarettes, so they each did half in his memory.
He has one brother and thirteen sisters. They are mostly "half" sisters, because his mother was a "crack whore", so their dads are all different. They were all eventually adopted by the same family, but they "never really cared what I did". He said the best piece of advice he's ever received was, "You only live once, so you better enjoy it the first time around." I countered with the idea that there are a lot of things that are good for you that don't necessarily feel good. He acquiesced, but followed with, "But, only if you have to."
His goodness came through when we started talking about the three-year-old boy I've seen up there. He said he saw somebody give him a cigarette once. It was the only time he beat somebody up. "You don't give cigarettes to a three-year-old." Agreed. He went back to skating and circled around every time he got thirsty.
The other guy made me want to cry...
After describing himself as a "roller coaster addict", he painstakingly described a "Haunted Adventure" house experience, and said we should never go. I very sincerely told him that we wouldn't. Little by little, the conversation moved from this scary fake experience to his scary real experience. He jumped around between mission school this, and group home that. There was something about how he and his sister were left beside a Georgia highway when he was a baby, and his struggles with a learning disability. Later on, he and his sister were adopted, but only to be sexually and mentally abused. His adoptive mother locked them in their rooms and wouldn't let them out. "If I had to go #1 or #2, I had to go in my bedroom because she wouldn't let us out." He and his sister communicated through an air vent. They were eventually put in foster care and bounced around the system.
He pulled up his shirt to show me his rose tattoo in honor of Lady Gaga. Apparently, he's a big fan, she has something similar, and that is good enough for him. His vulnerability was palpable, and when he showed me that he knew the alphabet in sign language, I could see his hand trembling. He is 24-years-old. He is looking for a job and planning to start school in the Fall. He lives with a lady who ran a group home where he previously lived, and her children. He affectionately calls her Mom. He attends Church with her dad. He knows he makes mistakes, he knows God forgives him, and believes "I am a man of God."
My sons were "in and out" during these conversations, but my 8-year-old caught on that the second guy had suffered a lot and heard me repeat something I heard Mother Angelica say once. "When we are suffering, that is when we are most like Christ. If we are not like Him at any other time, we are like Him when we are suffering." To this, my son said, "I guess I've suffered." I said, "No, you haven't." He said, "I've suffered a little. My great-grandmother just died." I said, "Yes, but you didn't suffer." And he said, "I guess I wasn't really that sad." Right.
I vacillate between thinking it is and isn't good for my kids to be at the skate park. Today, it was good. It was good because they got to see that these kids are "nice". Even if they use bad language or have metal in their face. It was good because my oldest son heard about real suffering, and consequently, realized that he has not really suffered. Having parents who love you enough to make you go to bed at night, chores here and there, and something other than your favorite food for dinner is not suffering. In lieu of going to Africa to appreciate what we have, I think we'll be going back to the skate park. We still have a lot to learn.
Dear God, I don't know how I continue to meet so many people with such painful and incredible stories. I can only assume that you are "hooking us up", so thank you for the privilege of being on the listening end. Lord, have mercy on these kids, and on their parents, who will have to give an account for them on the day they meet You face to face. Please, give me the grace to show them Your Goodness, Truth, Light, and Love. Thank you for my Regnum Christi sister, Robye, who provided the drinks I brought today, and all of those who spur me on in my faith. God, bless us all. Amen.
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