Feast Days and Birthdays

Today is the feast day of St. Maria Goretti, today is also the birthday of a friend of mine that took her precious life almost 2 years ago.I see an irony today, "B" was sexually abused as a child. That abuse, in combination with later abuse, ultimately lead to her death.

I have so much anger still from her death. I saw her 10 days before she died, she came to town to say good-bye. If I had only know, could I have said the words to save her. I knew her when we were teens and in college. Could I have guided her to a place for healing? Some would say I did, she converted to Catholicism as a freshman in college, but that lead her to more abuse. Could I have prevented her from joining that "religious movement" that opened old wounds? That I did try, but she not listen. Could I have been her doula, and prevent the birth trauma that again made wounds open, maybe, but, the past haunted her so much. If only I had come to visit her all the times she begged me to fly far from my family.

The truth is that I could not do anything, even if I tried harder than I had. She was deeply wounded, and wounds were open again and again. She could not make peace, even with the best religious counsel and the best therapy. She her wounds could not be healed, no matter how may efforts her truly loving, and gentle husband made. She was so deeply wounded.

Why anyone ever would hurt a child in such a horrific manor is beyond my comprehension. We see the stories in the papers, on TV and, in the lives of the saints. Today, I beg for the prayers of St. Maria Goretti for my friend, that God is merciful. I beg her prayers for my children, for their protection and purity. I beg her prayers for those who are put into situations that they cannot control and are forever wounded.

The Simple Joy of Nostalgia

It has been a LONG time since I have taken to this page. It has been a long year, I will spare you the details, but it feels as if I am coming out of a long winter into spring. The beauty of it all is breathtaking.

I just finished reading Till We Have Faces by C.S. Lewis. I first attempted to read it twenty years ago, as a high school student, but, I could not. There are many books that for whatever reason, if I do not read them at the right point in life, my brain will not tolerate them. This is one of them. In honestly, I was listening to it. One of the turns my life has recently taken involves me working full time, driving all over the place, and my husband being a full time stay-at-home home schooling dad. This gives me hours to listen to books each week. I was lead to Till We Have Faces while wandering through the audio books at my library, remembering my past efforts, hoping that if I could not escape, ie I am driving, I would get through it. I did. It was wonderful, even though it was hard, I did not "get it" until the end, then, I wept, it was just what I needed.

At the time I first tried to read the book, it was because the band, Over the Rhine, named their debut album after the book. Now, I wanted to know why. This lead to a flood of memories, feelings and joys. I first started listening to OtR when I was a senior in high school, when I was falling in love with my now husband. We fought falling in love, but, you cannot resist the nudging of God. Every song put into my head a overwhelming feeling of love for Chris. Reminding me of the smells, the warmth of the sun, the chill of the nights, the adventures everything 18 year olds feel in love. I am long past that time, but again, God shows us what we need when we need it, I needed the memories. I needed to be reminded why I passionately love him.

Last night we taught an NFP class, we've taught hundreds I think, but our talk that we give on why NFP for us was the best ever. Not because we are passionate about NFP, but because the memories of our early days were fresh, out struggles, our joys, our quirky personalities and why we are married and have kids. We are passionate for each other and the love God has created.

This is another thing that has lacked in the winter of the past year. My heart has been cold, not just to my husband, and my friends, but to my Creator. And now like Orual in Till We Have Faces, my veil has been truly lifted and I am allowed to see the hand of God. The beauty of it all fills me.

Simple Joys and Immense Sorrows

This weekend I lost a friend in the most horrific way, suicide. I had known her since I was 16, I met her the day I met my husband and Br. Maximilan, one of our best friends. We were on a retreat, and she, Br. Max, and my husband were the only 3 people to talk to me. I was shy, had just gotten over the Chicken Pox, and in the past year had suffered a great tragedy. I was depressed, and they gave me hope. That is why it is breaking my heart to think that no one could give her that hope to continue on the journey.

We had many good times, she left to join a cultish religious group when we were on college and we were not allowed to communicate. When she came home, I picked her up at the airport, but she was not the same. Life moves quickly, she married and moved to the other side of the country. We lost touch. I regret this so much right now, more than so many regrets that I have in life.

Thanks to the internet, and facebook, we connected. It was like old times, virtually. We communicated privately online, but that is a terrible way to be a friend. I could not read her sorrow in email, I could not see her tears in chat, and I could not give her any hope.

Last month, we met in person, I think now that she loved my husband and I enough to say good-bye to us in person. That makes things so much worse, to tell the truth, why didn’t we hold her forever, why didn’t we tell her to move back to Chicago, why didn’t we give her hope. I told her things that she didn’t know, painful things. When she got back to California, she attempted suicide for the first time. Did we push her over the edge?

Her husband is a good man, he tried to protect her, but she left one Sunday morning and never returned. She was found in the bottom of a canyon a week later. How can someone leave their 3 little children? How can you lose hope to the point that even your babies are meaningless? I will never understand. I have been at the point she was in the past, about every 6 years I fight a battle with depression, but my children, my husband and my God are enough to give me the glimmer I need. How can there be no glimmer?

I’ve been praying the Psalms a lot, and one thing strikes me again and again, Praise for rescue. I Praise Him for saving me, rescuing me, but I also ask, why not her? What makes her plight different? I know her sorrows were worse, her past was darker, but why didn’t he rescue her, why did she slip into decay? There are just so many things I do not understand, but I trust  in the goodness and mercy of He who rescues me.

Rejoicing with others

This is one of the little life lessons I’ve actually managed to learn and then live. I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. Sometimes, it is almost painful to rejoice with others, they are happy, and should be, but I would give anything to be in their shoes. But still, I’ve learned to at the very least smile and be silent.

This aspect was easy to learn, at least for me. When I was newly married, 4 whole months, we announced that my husband and I were expecting our first child. I was expecting a cool reception, but I wasn’t excepting downright icy responses. I knew that my husband’s sister longed for a baby, that she had been trying to conceive, I didn’t know that my getting pregnant would hurt her so much. One sister outright told me it wasn’t my turn, how could I? Ouch. To this day, there is a part of me that though I understand and forgive, is still hurt by this.

So many times, we see what others have, or are doing and are envious. It is human nature, our fallen nature. When we put ourselves aside, even when that longing is almost painful, God blesses us. He gives us the grace to rejoice and support, if necessary, our friends.

Hope and Disappointment

I like to think I'm pretty hopeful in general. I've evolved from a dark pessimistic teen and young adult to what I am today, cynical at times, but in general hopeful. At times it is hard, like right now.

I've been really hoping for something, I can't give details, but that don't matter that much anyway, it is a good think, at least I think it is, and I keep getting no for an answer. It is one of those things that other people are telling me I should do, and I agree, and yet, no. No hurts, it is painful, it is frustrating, it is maddening, yet, I have no choice in the matter but to accept, hopefully with joy, the no God is giving me.

My kids hate me saying no, and I am just about as thrilled as they are to hear it, but I know as a parent, I say it for their good, and God, my loving Father is doing the same for me. I can stomp my feet, like my 5 year old would, but that won't really help. I can cry and complain, but again, what good is that? Or, I can say "Thank you for knowing what is good for me right now" and accept His will. Option 3 sounds the best, even if it hurts. Or better still, I can take option 3, and offer that hurt for a soul in purgatory, who had the same hurt in life, and in return beg their prayers for me.

We need to pray for them

It has been a rather depressing week in my diocese for young, excited priests. First, my dear friend, a seminarian was asked to take leave. He has done nothing wrong, other than to love as Christ loves, and not had a healthy enough distain for children. He doesn't run the other way when he sees them, and actually will talk to them, must be up to no good. We seem to have forgotten the words from the Gospel of Mark (chapter 10):

"And people were bringing children to him that he might touch them, but the disciples rebuked them.

When Jesus saw this he became indignant and said to them, "Let the children come to me; do not prevent them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.

Amen, I say to you, whoever does not accept the kingdom of God like a child will not enter it." Then he embraced them and blessed them, placing his hands on them."

Embracing them is forbidden in this day and age, and I suspect very soon, Blessing them will be too. Please don't think I do not understand recent scandals. I was raised in a Parish that was front and center of them in my diocese, the priest who first gave me Our Lord in communion was a pedophile and is rotting in jail. My family left the church, and part of the reason was him. I get it, but I also think we cannot knee jerk respond to the point that innocent men are being pushed out of their vocation.

Later this week, a recently ordained announced he is leaving the priesthood. I've heard mutterings, don't know what is true, but he leaves in good standing, pressure from self-righteous holier than the Pope types have made him leave. It is sickening. I really really liked this guy. He was fun, and very wise and holy. My kids loved him, he laughed at their bad jokes. He made the priesthood look cool. That's just what little boys need, not getting yelled at for making a mistake as a server, or being ignored when they ask Father a silly question, that seems important to them. That does not make them want to be a priest.

A third young priest is on sabbatical to see if he is staying. Nice. I don't know him, but at present we have lost 75% of the priests ordained in the last 3 years. This has to stop. We as people of faith need to pray and support our priests, even the ones that yell at kids, but even more the ones who don't, because according to the world, there is something wrong with them.

Sorry for my rant. I'm just hoping that before my sons are old enough to be serious about a vocation, they would find a mentor, a priest to not only bring them Jesus, but be Jesus to them.

St. John Vianney, Patron of Priests, Pray for them!

Torture

There has been a growing movement in the Catholic Blog-o-sphere concerning torture. I've always known it was wrong, but I usually blamed my liberal tenancies, especially since I never win the argument when I'm surrounded by other Catholics. Thankfully, as I usually do, I can rely on the Church to set me straight.

Torture is happening far more than we, as a country, would like to acknowledge. How do I know? After all, suburban mom, home-schooler, and otherwise boring person does not qualify me to speak on much. I know because I have heard first hand stories from my family, my brother serves in Kuwait and Iraq, my brother-in-law recently returned from Afghanistan and my dad, a veteran of the Marines were sharing stories at our late Christmas dinner. I was shocked, appalled and left speechless. I love these guys, especially my brother-in-law, he is well read, and a smart guy, yet, he tortured. Everyone did from what he was saying. It wasn't as extreme as water-boarding, but there were many little things that were unnecessary for the questioning of other human beings. Honestly, they treated the dog that wandered in from the desert better than the locals. I was sickened.

The simple lesson, just because we can, and everyone else does, doesn't mean we should. This week I'm teaching the kids about the Holocaust. How can I tell them all that happened to rob people of their dignity and eventually their lives is wrong if I think it is okay to do the same today? I'm not the best spokeswoman for this cause, admittedly, I'm not the best at expressing the truth with clarity, but hopefully, I can convince my family, and friends.

Taking steps backwards, Since 1998

I came across this article via Mark Shea's blog. While I find it respectful of Fr. McBrien to defend the honor of a reporter, he should consider ways to do it without losing his own, not that he had much to begin with.


I spend my pre-dawn Saturday mornings here. Why? Certainly not because I love getting up at 4am! I do it because, in my great selfishness, I need to. I need to grow in love. I need to find a time to forget myself, my desire for sleep, or a shower before work, time to sit in in the glow of my Lord. I do not do it to "bring back the old days" because I wasn't born then! Fr. McBrien's theory that adoration is to bring back the old is silly, in my opinion. I know more young modern people that go to adoration than those his age.



I think we do it because we have to. Not just for ourselves, but for our church that he and his generation, my parents, spent the last 40 years trying "renew", only to throw out everything old without regard for its value. I'm not anti-Vatican II, quite the contrary to be honest, but we cannot disregard the 2000 years of beauty and devotions for a few passing fancies.



I go to adoration every week, happily, proudly and willingly. I do not know how I'd get through the week without it, so for now, I guess I'm walking backwards.

Cock-eyed Optimist?

I never pegged myself as an optimist, matter of fact, my oldest and dearest friends would probably laugh out loud to hear me say it, but I am. Sure I think that the world is going to hell in a hand basket, I mean, seriously, look around! But I'm pretty sure there is a hole somewhere in that mass produced basket that is a way out, there is always hope.

Hope is a funny thing, it is one of those virtues that you have to pray for, to ask God for, and cannot "earn". I cannot give a great lesson one hope, Salvi et Spes puts into words my hearts deepest beliefs, and my dumb sea cucumber self can only put into feeble mutterings how important hope is. Hope has become my driving force. As bad as it seems, as bad as the government, or schools or economy are, I still believe that it has a purpose, we cannot give up, or simply whine about how bad it is. Hope puts faith into action.

I dunno what else to say, it has been a crummy day that makes me miss a lot of old friends, and really wish I could hide in a beer slushy (don't ask), but for some stupid reason, I still see the goodness, I still believe in hope. All the crap has a purpose.

After mulling things over

I was going to start a series of posts on Eating green, healthy and on a budget this week, because many of my friends are asking how we manage to do it, then I saw this and it just seemed wrong. Maybe another time.

View this movie at cultureunplugged.com

The Last Acceptable Prejudice?

Today I was listening to NPR's The Talk of the Nation. I usually enjoy this show, but today, ugh, they were talking about people's objections to Sonia Sotomayor. Great, I thought, I really want to hear this, I think more needs to be said about her. After a few minutes of intelligent discussion, they took calls. The first caller that they allowed on the air, as I'm sure these things are screened, gave her reason for not wanting Sotomayor, she's Catholic. The caller, a older woman went on to complain about how there are already 5 Catholics, and how 6 would make a majority. The commentator reminder her that Sotomayor is not known for her orthodoxy. The caller reminded him that she was raised in a Catholic home and schooled by the Church, and couldn't be trusted. She kept going, Catholic believe in having too many kids, and are causing population problems, Nice, huh.

There are plenty of reasons to have concerns about Sotomayor, but her faith as a reason should not be one of them. So what she is Catholic! If anyone said she cannot be trusted because she is a woman, Hispanic, went to Yale, etc. it would be completely unacceptable, as it should be. However, being a baptized Catholic makes one open to bigotry. Why is it okay?

My Grandfather was raised Southern Baptist, his family disowned him when he married my Irish Catholic grandmother and converted. His family was taught to not trust Catholics, they kept guns in their churches waiting for a signal from the pope to take over the U.S. They sent their kids to Special schools to get them ready for this. Okay, this may have been slightly less bad in the 1940's, but now, we are far beyond this, right?

I guess that not much has changed in nearly 2000 years.

Getting old stinks

The primary reason is you have to witness even older friends suffer the things that come with age. Yesterday, a woman I credit more than any other person with helping me become who I am, was diagnosed with Breast Cancer. I know this woman well enough to know she will embrace her cross with great joy, seeing God in her pain. That does not take away the worry I will have or the fear of losing her. Again my selfishness shows. It's all about me, my need for her. 

I was 13 when I met her, and threw up on her shoes. Nice intro, but she tenderly cared for me and drove me home from church. For some reason, God has let us keep in touch though my rough teen years, rebellious college days and the chaos of my life as a wife and mother. I have so many moments of joy and learning from her. She is who I would like to be as I age, Please pray for my friend, I still have so much to learn from her.

Dressing the pre-teen

This is my dilemma of the week. My 10 year old is 5'4" and therefore cannot wear kid's clothes. She loves skirts. But, have you seen the skirts this season??? My husband refers to them as glorified belts. Thankfully my daughter isn't fond of them, but we have not been able to find her skirts she likes. This is the problem, she wants to look modern and a bit trendy, but not cheap, she wants to be modest, but not Amish. Where is the happy medium, and where can I buy it! I've tried the thrift shops, but the ones by my home are gross. I've shopped and shopped, and only come home with one skirt. 

Pants are not much better. She likes jeans, but again, this year, they are not right. The tight look is in, and she hates tight. Again, she wants to look young but wants to dress modestly. Ugh, why is it so hard to find clothes that are cute, modern and modest?

I've had it!

Fighting, Squabbling, and meanness. Not among, my kids, I was fed up with that long ago, but with my friends and fellow Homeschoolers. The reality is we will never ever see eye to eye, we have far too many differences to agree. BUT, and that is a BIG BUT, we are all children of God, we are all given the same dignity and freedom given by our Creator. 

He is a loving Father to us all, no matter what, really. Sure some of us know more about some things, and some of us do more in some areas, but these are ways WE show our love, not ways HE shoes his love. We should share that love, that mercy, that forgiveness, not hold our errors over each other. What if our Lord treated us that way? We are called to no less than Perfection, "You must be perfect as your Father in Heaven is perfect"- Matt 5:48

Saint Teresa Saves the Day!

Life has been rough here, long story short, I now have a little job, which is good, but the decision to find one took a lot out of me. Just when I thought I knew what was going on with life, plans changed a bit, as far as I can see for now. Every time I get used to an idea, or there seems to be a "plan" things change, and they keep changing, more on that another time.

What does that have to to with the esteemed Doctor of the Church you ask, she made me laugh and put it all in perspective. While I was sitting and pouting, repeating my favorite line from Jeremiah, "You duped me, Oh Lord, and I have allowed myself to be duped, you were too strong for me, and you triumphed" Now, I know my life is not the context of the twentieth book of Jeremiah, but, this is how I felt. Along comes St. Teresa to brighten the day. "(of God) If this is the way you treat your friends, it's no wonder you have so few" 

I have not laughed like I did in a while, I laughed till I cried, and they cried a bit too, just because I needed to. Again, I'm not a Saint, hopefully one day I will be, but let's all hope I have plenty of time to work on it. I feel so much better knowing the Saints were not always thrilled with the plan God set before them, or the constant change of plans, perhaps. 

But Teresa does not stop with this above mentioned moment of wit, or honesty as it may be, she silenced my blabbing heart.

Let nothing disturb you
Let nothing frighten you
Everything passes
God never changes
Patience obtains all
Whoever has God wants for nothing
God alone is enough.

~~ St. Teresa of Avila

Enough Said.

This just makes me sad

Someone has vandalized the church we go to daily Mass at, again. My kids really love this statue. It is in a beautiful garden that an elderly priest tends. We have spent many afternoons there, in front of the statue, talking to friends, praying, enjoying the beauty of Fr. Gordan's garden. We just returned home from Mass, the head has been placed back on the Statue, but still the damage is done, please pray for those who hate the church and act on their hatred.

A Soldier's Story

Today, my Sister's Husband leaves for Afghanistan, and the local Chicago news talked to him this week. Please watch the video. My sister was not prepared to be on TV, she didn't sleep at all that night, so she looks a mess. Poor Kate. Her Step-daughter will not be able to see her until he comes back, in a year, just adding to the difficulties. As you can see, her kids are darling, please pray for them. John joined the National Guard last year, with the hopes that when he comes home, he can get out of construction, which is very slow right now.