The past two weeks Katie has been getting up early and asking if she can come to Mass with me and Anthony. Usually when I take both of them to daily Mass it's a recipe for disaster because they fight over my lap and it usually results in Anthony crying loudly or screaming. But since she's been asking to go things have been surprisingly calm. The kids are getting along and they've both been very quiet.
I find that what works best with keeping them happy is giving each of them a notebook and some crayons so they can just color and draw. But while Anthony spends a lot of time playing at my feet or just exploring the pew, he does also pay attention. Some days he watches intently and imitates what the priest is doing as he says Mass. There have even been times where I've heard him trying to say what the priest is saying. I think he thinks he's helping them out. He typically only does it when it's one of the two priests he knows best, his godfather and his "favorite priest." (Father has insisted since he was very small that he's Anthony's favorite.)
So today while in line to receive communion Anthony was having a great time singing on the way up. Katie, soaking in her surroundings was happily waving her latest drawings, until she got very serious before bowing before the eucharist just before getting a blessing. And then I notice Father motioning for me to look at Anthony who was in my arms. He was really hoping to receive communion. He had his tongue out and had this "I'm waiting" sort of expression on his face. He was visibly disappointed that he got denied. He has plenty of people who attend daily Mass who all think he already has a good understanding of what goes on at Mass. Perhaps they're right. I'm curious to see how he reacts going forward. Today was the first time I've ever noticed him hoping to receive.
It amazes me how much little ones pick up when they attend Mass frequently.
Showing posts with label faith. Show all posts
Showing posts with label faith. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 23, 2016
Monday, March 7, 2016
Unexpected Inspiration
When it comes to planning vacation bible school for our parish I try not to stress. The first couple of years I directed it I acted as if everything depended on me and I essentially tried to do every bit of it that could be done by me, myself. It was exhausting and it was largely due to me being a control freak and partly due to me not being able to trust that people would come through if I delegated a specific task to them. Too many years of forced group projects at school had trained me that if you want something done right and you want to get an A it's better to do it yourself and slap the names of the other people in the group on it when you're done.
Managing a growing family and heading up a project that requires a lot of work isn't easy if you want to actually get sleep or maintain sanity. So after year two of running VBS I started to listen to Bryan and a few of my other friends who were begging me to delegate tasks. I did it, and it was amazing. People came through and got the jobs that needed to be done completed. The first year I delegated I was really on edge because I worried that things might not get done right. Sometimes we had a hiccup, but when we did we were able to course correct it with minimal effort.
Right around the time I started delegating, I also started spending more time asking God to help me get the volunteers we needed or just asking Him to guide me to the right prayers, saints or devotions to introduce to the kids. And that's when things started buzzing along beautifully. I'd go to Mass, pray beforehand that I needed classroom teachers, or someone to pick up or bake a snack and most of the time before I left the church someone would approach me with what was needed. Or, I'd come home to find an email or a message on my answering machine that essentially answered my prayer. Nothing short of amazing, and I attribute it to me placing it in God's hands. I really should take a lesson from that and apply it to other areas of my life. When I do, I see equally amazing results, but I fail to exhibit that level of trust all the time. It's something I'm working on, and I know it's something Our Lord is working on me about, too.
So the past week or so I've been focusing on VBS and praying about it. I have a few positions I need filled, and I also need to pick the saints that will be featured and the crafts. I know I'll get the volunteers we need. I'm not sure who the new faces will be yet, but I'm sure they'll be exactly what we need. Crafts, had me stumped. I like to keep it fresh so people don't feel like their kids are doing that same things year after year.
My first wave of craft inspiration was courtesy of the liturgical calendar. The first day of the program is the feast day for St. Benedict, so he will get featured this year and the kids will do a craft that involves the St. Benedict medal. But the rest of the days were a mystery to me until today. Now I think I have some clarity.
I help out with the crafts for Little Flowers Girls Club at a neighboring parish. This month was my turn to come up with a craft. St. Anne was the featured saint and I didn't have the easiest time coming up with a good craft. After looking online, I got the idea to print a nice image of St. Anne with the Blessed Mother and put it in a wood craft frame. I wasn't sure if the girls should just paint it or do something more. So I thought about VBS and things that typically are simple but look very nice and that's when I thought that maybe gluing sequins to the frame would look nice. I was going to leave the wood unpainted, but I decided this morning that it might look nicer if they were painted. So as I sat in the kitchen painting 16 frames I got hit with an idea. I could use these same frames with a photo of the Divine Mercy image as a VBS craft. That would allow us to talk about the Year of Mercy in a video and have this as the corresponding craft. The kids can paint the frame (because we have time for that at VBS) and then sprinkle it with glitter or sequins if they like. But then I started thinking that this would also work as the Marian craft idea. (I always have one Marian craft day to help encourage a devotion to Mary.) And that's when I got the idea of doing a rosary holder with an image of Our Lady of Good Counsel. I just need to ask someone we know who does wood working who also volunteered his talent to help with VBS if I needed it, if he can cut keyholes into the backs of plaques and add a peg or hook to the front so it can function as a hanging rosary holder. If that's the case, I will have three out of five crafts picked. I never would have expected to have such amazing clarity on what the crafts might be this early.
I'll try to add pictures of the St. Anne craft later this week. It's such a simple, yet pretty craft.
Managing a growing family and heading up a project that requires a lot of work isn't easy if you want to actually get sleep or maintain sanity. So after year two of running VBS I started to listen to Bryan and a few of my other friends who were begging me to delegate tasks. I did it, and it was amazing. People came through and got the jobs that needed to be done completed. The first year I delegated I was really on edge because I worried that things might not get done right. Sometimes we had a hiccup, but when we did we were able to course correct it with minimal effort.
Right around the time I started delegating, I also started spending more time asking God to help me get the volunteers we needed or just asking Him to guide me to the right prayers, saints or devotions to introduce to the kids. And that's when things started buzzing along beautifully. I'd go to Mass, pray beforehand that I needed classroom teachers, or someone to pick up or bake a snack and most of the time before I left the church someone would approach me with what was needed. Or, I'd come home to find an email or a message on my answering machine that essentially answered my prayer. Nothing short of amazing, and I attribute it to me placing it in God's hands. I really should take a lesson from that and apply it to other areas of my life. When I do, I see equally amazing results, but I fail to exhibit that level of trust all the time. It's something I'm working on, and I know it's something Our Lord is working on me about, too.
So the past week or so I've been focusing on VBS and praying about it. I have a few positions I need filled, and I also need to pick the saints that will be featured and the crafts. I know I'll get the volunteers we need. I'm not sure who the new faces will be yet, but I'm sure they'll be exactly what we need. Crafts, had me stumped. I like to keep it fresh so people don't feel like their kids are doing that same things year after year.
My first wave of craft inspiration was courtesy of the liturgical calendar. The first day of the program is the feast day for St. Benedict, so he will get featured this year and the kids will do a craft that involves the St. Benedict medal. But the rest of the days were a mystery to me until today. Now I think I have some clarity.
I help out with the crafts for Little Flowers Girls Club at a neighboring parish. This month was my turn to come up with a craft. St. Anne was the featured saint and I didn't have the easiest time coming up with a good craft. After looking online, I got the idea to print a nice image of St. Anne with the Blessed Mother and put it in a wood craft frame. I wasn't sure if the girls should just paint it or do something more. So I thought about VBS and things that typically are simple but look very nice and that's when I thought that maybe gluing sequins to the frame would look nice. I was going to leave the wood unpainted, but I decided this morning that it might look nicer if they were painted. So as I sat in the kitchen painting 16 frames I got hit with an idea. I could use these same frames with a photo of the Divine Mercy image as a VBS craft. That would allow us to talk about the Year of Mercy in a video and have this as the corresponding craft. The kids can paint the frame (because we have time for that at VBS) and then sprinkle it with glitter or sequins if they like. But then I started thinking that this would also work as the Marian craft idea. (I always have one Marian craft day to help encourage a devotion to Mary.) And that's when I got the idea of doing a rosary holder with an image of Our Lady of Good Counsel. I just need to ask someone we know who does wood working who also volunteered his talent to help with VBS if I needed it, if he can cut keyholes into the backs of plaques and add a peg or hook to the front so it can function as a hanging rosary holder. If that's the case, I will have three out of five crafts picked. I never would have expected to have such amazing clarity on what the crafts might be this early.
I'll try to add pictures of the St. Anne craft later this week. It's such a simple, yet pretty craft.
Tuesday, February 23, 2016
Hearts Can Change
I posted on Friday about how I was given a note telling me to take Anthony to the crying room by someone who was obviously annoyed by him. The note had me very upset. So upset that I felt the need to write a letter to our pastor about it and at the urging of Bryan, also to share a picture of the note I received to our parish Facebook page.
On Facebook plenty of people responded in a short amount of time. Those who knew me were outraged, and several other's were also upset that someone would feel the need to leave such a note rather than just approach me face to face to discuss what she felt was a problem. There were some good discussions coming out of that post, but ultimately, our pastor asked that it be removed. By that point my letter to him had already been delivered outlining the issue and asking what he felt the best way to handle the situation would be.
This morning at daily Mass we all got to hear his response to my letter. He made it abundantly clear that none of us should have a problem with the sounds of children in the church. He also talked about how leaving notes like the one I received on Friday was not a Christian response. Posting about the incident on social media was also addressed, since he felt it had the ability to fan the flames of an issue that can cause division. So clearly the logic behind the post and it's subsequent conversation was revealed.
In all, Father's homily was top notch. He explained to those present why some parents choose to avoid the crying room, citing that it is a circus room and not a place where parents can teach their child how to behave at Mass. He addressed that it's not a problem to have a child making sounds during Mass, but how in cases where the child is wailing and unable to be quieted, how it would be prudent to remove the child for a time. That we have done, and most people we have seen with little ones have done that as well.
I felt one of his best points related to the dropping fertility rate and how as people have chosen to have fewer children, we have created a society that is less accepting of the sounds of children. He pointed out that these little ones have something to teach us and should not be excluded. Because our society has become less child friendly, it has essentially gotten many of us to a point where we expect not to be bothered by them or their sounds when out in public. He made it a point to state that when you attend a public event, such as a Mass, you cannot expect or anticipate that there will not be children or other distractions around you. He let people know that that quiet some of them expect at Mass can be found in our adoration chapel. I know that's one place I don't take my little ones unless it's empty, and if other people show up while we are there I always leave so we don't disturb them.
After Mass there was a lot of talk about the homily. Many of the people there that know me were aware of what happened on Friday so they felt as I did that the homily was very well done. I do wish the woman who wrote the note had been there this morning, but she wasn't. (I do think she sat in front of us at Sunday Mass.) Grumpy Cat Lady, however, was there. Over the past six or seven weeks I've been making it a point to say hello to her, hold doors for her and ask her how she is doing when I see her. Today as I was walking out of the church with Anthony she came up to us with a big smile on her face to tell me how well behaved she thought he was today. She even told Anthony he was really good. So hearts can change. It was such a welcome exchange and gives me hope that we will win her over in time. Bryan thinks the homily might have played a big part in her change of tone, and he might be right.
So if you're the mom of the noisy baby at church and someone says something unkind or leaves you a note telling you where you should take that baby, take a deep breath before you respond. If they don't run off as soon as saying something, tell them why you're not going to be pushed into a crying room or why you'll continue coming to the church. Maybe you're like me and you have more than one little one. On days when it's just me, Anthony and Katie, I know if I get up to take Anthony out of the church the noise level will escalate to fever pitch because Katie will then have a total freak out. So sometimes what looks like the logical choice to an outsider is the lesser of two evils. If, as in my situation, the person does an attack and run approach, write a letter to your pastor or approach him about it and let him know what happened and how you feel such a message can become a problem not just for you, but for other families as well. If you have priests who are not shy about welcoming children at Mass they may just be your biggest ally in getting the rest of the parish community to accept the little ones.
On Facebook plenty of people responded in a short amount of time. Those who knew me were outraged, and several other's were also upset that someone would feel the need to leave such a note rather than just approach me face to face to discuss what she felt was a problem. There were some good discussions coming out of that post, but ultimately, our pastor asked that it be removed. By that point my letter to him had already been delivered outlining the issue and asking what he felt the best way to handle the situation would be.
This morning at daily Mass we all got to hear his response to my letter. He made it abundantly clear that none of us should have a problem with the sounds of children in the church. He also talked about how leaving notes like the one I received on Friday was not a Christian response. Posting about the incident on social media was also addressed, since he felt it had the ability to fan the flames of an issue that can cause division. So clearly the logic behind the post and it's subsequent conversation was revealed.
In all, Father's homily was top notch. He explained to those present why some parents choose to avoid the crying room, citing that it is a circus room and not a place where parents can teach their child how to behave at Mass. He addressed that it's not a problem to have a child making sounds during Mass, but how in cases where the child is wailing and unable to be quieted, how it would be prudent to remove the child for a time. That we have done, and most people we have seen with little ones have done that as well.
I felt one of his best points related to the dropping fertility rate and how as people have chosen to have fewer children, we have created a society that is less accepting of the sounds of children. He pointed out that these little ones have something to teach us and should not be excluded. Because our society has become less child friendly, it has essentially gotten many of us to a point where we expect not to be bothered by them or their sounds when out in public. He made it a point to state that when you attend a public event, such as a Mass, you cannot expect or anticipate that there will not be children or other distractions around you. He let people know that that quiet some of them expect at Mass can be found in our adoration chapel. I know that's one place I don't take my little ones unless it's empty, and if other people show up while we are there I always leave so we don't disturb them.
After Mass there was a lot of talk about the homily. Many of the people there that know me were aware of what happened on Friday so they felt as I did that the homily was very well done. I do wish the woman who wrote the note had been there this morning, but she wasn't. (I do think she sat in front of us at Sunday Mass.) Grumpy Cat Lady, however, was there. Over the past six or seven weeks I've been making it a point to say hello to her, hold doors for her and ask her how she is doing when I see her. Today as I was walking out of the church with Anthony she came up to us with a big smile on her face to tell me how well behaved she thought he was today. She even told Anthony he was really good. So hearts can change. It was such a welcome exchange and gives me hope that we will win her over in time. Bryan thinks the homily might have played a big part in her change of tone, and he might be right.
So if you're the mom of the noisy baby at church and someone says something unkind or leaves you a note telling you where you should take that baby, take a deep breath before you respond. If they don't run off as soon as saying something, tell them why you're not going to be pushed into a crying room or why you'll continue coming to the church. Maybe you're like me and you have more than one little one. On days when it's just me, Anthony and Katie, I know if I get up to take Anthony out of the church the noise level will escalate to fever pitch because Katie will then have a total freak out. So sometimes what looks like the logical choice to an outsider is the lesser of two evils. If, as in my situation, the person does an attack and run approach, write a letter to your pastor or approach him about it and let him know what happened and how you feel such a message can become a problem not just for you, but for other families as well. If you have priests who are not shy about welcoming children at Mass they may just be your biggest ally in getting the rest of the parish community to accept the little ones.
Tuesday, February 16, 2016
So Much for Everyday
I meant to blog yesterday but between falling asleep on the couch for a few hours mid day and getting caught up in the History Channel Series The Men Who Built America my day rapidly disappeared. I spent six hours last evening watching three of the episodes from that series. It was nice not having to watch Sofia the First and Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. I feel like I see too many of those shows.
My gallbladder ultrasound is tomorrow morning. I'm hoping it will show the reason why I'm having so much pain on the right side. From there, we'll have to see what, if anything, the doctors are willing to do for me. I called and set up an appointment with a surgeon today at the request of one of my doctors only to have the receptionist tell me that I was wasting my time. It appears that there are certain medical conditions that make medical professionals unwilling to consider the possibility of treating you. As I told the one doctor I saw today, I'm experiencing pain at times that is more painful than labor, and lasts far longer than I've ever labored. I told the receptionist at the surgeon's office that I'd like an appointment anyway even if it is a waste of time. I'm hoping it won't be.
The more I described the pain I was having to the doctor I saw this morning the more she kept nodding and affirming what I was saying until she said that everything I described was exactly how she felt just before she had to have her gallbladder removed. She seems to think there's a good chance I have gallstones. All I know is if it's stones or an inflamed gallbladder, I want something done as soon as safely possible so I can stop feeling so awful.
I feel like I'm near useless at present. I've gone another week since doing any laundry or even setting foot in the basement. If it's not on the main level or upstairs, I pretty much have nothing to do with it. Outside of making sandwiches or a bowl of cereal for the smaller kids, I haven't prepared any food for anyone who isn't me. Fortunately Madeline, Ellie and Bryan can all make food and all know how to do laundry. Otherwise I think we'd all be half starved and wearing dirty clothes.
I took the older kids to confession on Saturday and while discussing my severe dislike of suffering, I got asked if I ever just want to time travel in those situations. Yes! I do! I really do. And finally, someone else gets how I feel! For instance, if I could go back a few months, I'd go and have my [then] infrequent gallbladder pain looked at and hopefully addressed. I'd also have insisted on seeing an ENT dr. before December so my sinus inflammation could be treated with the preferred treatment option. If I could go forward, I'd skip ahead to October or November. But I guess if I had the ability to time travel that I'd be skipping out on chances to offer up my suffering, as well as numerous chances to really lean on Our Lord for his grace and support. Do I want to suffer? Not at all, but if it's what I'm being called to do, then I'll do my best however imperfectly I may do it. I told Father in confession that I feel like it's been Lent for me for the past month. So while everyone else was on day four of Lent, for me it was day thirty-one and yet, Easter won't get here any earlier for me.
My gallbladder ultrasound is tomorrow morning. I'm hoping it will show the reason why I'm having so much pain on the right side. From there, we'll have to see what, if anything, the doctors are willing to do for me. I called and set up an appointment with a surgeon today at the request of one of my doctors only to have the receptionist tell me that I was wasting my time. It appears that there are certain medical conditions that make medical professionals unwilling to consider the possibility of treating you. As I told the one doctor I saw today, I'm experiencing pain at times that is more painful than labor, and lasts far longer than I've ever labored. I told the receptionist at the surgeon's office that I'd like an appointment anyway even if it is a waste of time. I'm hoping it won't be.
The more I described the pain I was having to the doctor I saw this morning the more she kept nodding and affirming what I was saying until she said that everything I described was exactly how she felt just before she had to have her gallbladder removed. She seems to think there's a good chance I have gallstones. All I know is if it's stones or an inflamed gallbladder, I want something done as soon as safely possible so I can stop feeling so awful.
I feel like I'm near useless at present. I've gone another week since doing any laundry or even setting foot in the basement. If it's not on the main level or upstairs, I pretty much have nothing to do with it. Outside of making sandwiches or a bowl of cereal for the smaller kids, I haven't prepared any food for anyone who isn't me. Fortunately Madeline, Ellie and Bryan can all make food and all know how to do laundry. Otherwise I think we'd all be half starved and wearing dirty clothes.
I took the older kids to confession on Saturday and while discussing my severe dislike of suffering, I got asked if I ever just want to time travel in those situations. Yes! I do! I really do. And finally, someone else gets how I feel! For instance, if I could go back a few months, I'd go and have my [then] infrequent gallbladder pain looked at and hopefully addressed. I'd also have insisted on seeing an ENT dr. before December so my sinus inflammation could be treated with the preferred treatment option. If I could go forward, I'd skip ahead to October or November. But I guess if I had the ability to time travel that I'd be skipping out on chances to offer up my suffering, as well as numerous chances to really lean on Our Lord for his grace and support. Do I want to suffer? Not at all, but if it's what I'm being called to do, then I'll do my best however imperfectly I may do it. I told Father in confession that I feel like it's been Lent for me for the past month. So while everyone else was on day four of Lent, for me it was day thirty-one and yet, Easter won't get here any earlier for me.
Thursday, January 7, 2016
It's More Than Just How You Respond
Last Friday was New Years day, but, more importantly, it was the solemnity celebrating Mary, Mother of God. I always love celebrating Marian feast days, and this day was no different. My eldest daughters were both scheduled to altar serve the morning Mass so the Mass we were attending was already chosen for us. Katie, still had a fever from a recurring ear and sinus infection so she stayed home with Bryan while I took Anthony and the older girls. I assumed I'd have a few of my normal struggles with Anthony climbing in, on and under the pews and making some noise, but I figured if I can wrangle him by myself at daily Mass most weekdays that I'd be just fine with him for what would be an hour Mass.
Anthony is not shy at Mass. This kid will happily babble, sing, wave hello, and even participate at Mass when he can. But, he's still a toddler, so sometimes he cries and sometimes he just makes small little noises that many people seem to enjoy. He has quite the following of people from daily Mass who simply adore him and all the chaos that he brings with him. But despite him having so many fans, I still make sure I'm prepared with a sippy cup, bag of cheerios, a couple of pacifiers, and a Thomas train whenever I go to Mass to keep him occupied and as quiet and still as possible. I'm very conscience of the noises he makes and I do everything I can to make sure he's not a major disruption. Some days are good and people hardly realize he's there and other days are not so good and I hope that the noise sitting next to or climbing all over me isn't as loud as I think it is. Sometimes, those are the days when Anthony gets called out during a homily or at the end of Mass. Those shout outs used to totally mortify me, but when they happen at what feels like 50% of the Masses we attend, I've gotten used to it, but there are still times (this past Christmas Eve comes to mind) where I want to pretend I have no idea who Father is talking about, but that's hard to do when you're holding said noisy baby.
We belong to an awesome parish where most people who approach me about my kids and their antics have very nice and encouraging things to say. And some of the ones who do come up to comment on the noise do it in such a lighthearted way that I'm never upset about it. I am aware that there are a few people at daily Mass who are less than thrilled about some of Anthony's noises, but aside from a glance or a sharp look when he's particularly vocal, they've never felt the need to approach me about it.
This past Friday, however, was different. I always sit in the same pew for Sunday Mass and holy days of obligation. So when we got to the church, the girls went to the sacristy to get ready to altar serve and Anthony and I went and sat in our usual spot. The spot that had the lady my kids call Grumpy Cat Lady, because she looks like Grumpy Cat from those memes, sitting in the pew right in front of where we sit. Several months ago Bryan pointed out to me that this particular woman has a habit of moving from her pew to another pew across the church anytime Anthony is behind her. The first several times she did it, I never noticed. I would see her in the pew, kneel down to pray and when I was finished the pew would either be empty or someone different would be sitting there. I always assumed that she was there from a prior Mass and had just left after she finished praying. Then there was the day when I finished praying and Bryan, looking annoyed, leaned over and told me that she moved again and told the woman next to her that Anthony was a screamer. At that particular Mass, Anthony didn't make a single sound. She turned and looked at us when we slipped into the pew and was visibly annoyed, so I wondered if she was going to move away from us. While I prayed before Mass, Anthony walked along the kneeler and the backs of my legs and quietly hummed what sounded like the Alleluia. It was a sweet happy little sound that was fairly quiet for him. He wedged himself between me and the back of the pew ahead of me while I was still kneeling and that's when I heard a growling "Shhhh!" which snapped me out of praying and caused me to look up. It was followed by a grumbling "Be quiet!" right in Anthony's face. My first thought was that she wasn't serious since he wasn't loud and he wasn't crying. She turned back, obviously annoyed and in a huff. Within a minute she had decided to pick up and move across the church and up a couple of pews.
Her actions just left me washed in emotions. I was hurt that she felt the need to so angrily snap at the baby. And then I started to feel very annoyed that she even thought that it was ok to do it which made me start to wonder how many people she's done this to before. Were we the only ones or have other families had her snap at their children or been made to feel unwelcome by her practice of getting up and moving away from them in a very obvious manner. Then I started to think about how I would have felt and reacted if this had happened when Madeline or Ellie were his age. I likely would have left the church right away horribly embarrassed and would have thought twice about going back for a long time if at all. I know it would have made me cry.
I know that not everyone has to like the sounds of children at Mass, but how you respond to those things that annoy or distract you at Mass affects those around you. Based on people coming up to me after the Mass and making overly kind comments about Anthony, I suspect her growling at the baby and subsequent relocation was noticed by those around me. I don't have the answer for the right way to approach the parent of a noisy child, because I also don't know how to tell the gossiping old ladies who chatter before and sometimes during Mass to zip it because they're bothering me. I also don't know how to tell the people who come to Mass doused in a bottle of smelly perfume that makes me feel sick to my stomach to lay off the scent. And, I also have no idea how to tell the people who either say the responses too fast, too slow or incorrectly to get with the program and say them right and on time. Do you know why I don't know the answers to those situations? It's because there are no tactful ways to tell someone that you find their presence at Holy Mass annoying. Responding rudely to someone at Mass may just be the thing that sends them out the door never to return. If you make it clear to someone that their presence at Mass is annoying and unwelcome they make take your hint and not come back. Would you want that on your conscience? I know I wouldn't.
Now I don't know why this woman is so grouchy about kids. Maybe she never had any or she just doesn't like children at all. Maybe seeing or hearing little kids reminds her that she has grandchildren that she never sees. A lot of people come up and tell me about their grandchildren that they never see or that parents never go to Mass and how they wish they would take them. So maybe she has a personal issue and Anthony strikes a nerve that hits a little too close to home. But we all have crosses to bear and lashing out at someone because their presence makes your cross a bit more difficult to carry in that moment isn't going to make anything better. I know for me personally there are times when I am sharply reminded of one of my crosses, but I can't take it out on someone else just because it upsets me. In those moments, I bring it to Our Lord and let him know why I'm upset, but I don't move away from what's upsetting me because I believe that it was placed before me for the benefit of helping me to grow in holiness.
So ultimately what I'm trying to say here is this: If you have a problem with the presence of a noisy baby, before confronting the parent or the baby about it stop and take a few moments to bring it to Our Lord. Tell Him that the annoying child that He created is getting on your last nerve. Tell Him why you find that child of God so repugnant and then take a few moments to see what He has to say. Then take a few moments and ask yourself if you might just be overreacting. Maybe you're justified in saying something, maybe you're not. Perhaps, this moment is a test. You could perhaps see it as a moment to bear a wrong patiently. Chances are the baby isn't doing it to annoy you, he's just doing it because he's little and he's testing out his God-given free will probably much to his parents' dismay. It's even possible that that mother sitting all by herself with an energetic toddler who treats the church like it's his second home is incredibly self conscious about every single sound her child is making, even the ones you don't hear. Mass with little ones can be very exhausting. It's an hour packed with trying to contain a little one who wants to run, climb, crawl, yell, sing and explore a very curious building filled with many new faces. It's enough to leave you feeling like you need a nap afterwards. While lashing out at the parent or baby might make you feel vindicated or triumphant, I can assure you that it will be remembered by the parent long past when you've forgotten what you've said.
Anthony is not shy at Mass. This kid will happily babble, sing, wave hello, and even participate at Mass when he can. But, he's still a toddler, so sometimes he cries and sometimes he just makes small little noises that many people seem to enjoy. He has quite the following of people from daily Mass who simply adore him and all the chaos that he brings with him. But despite him having so many fans, I still make sure I'm prepared with a sippy cup, bag of cheerios, a couple of pacifiers, and a Thomas train whenever I go to Mass to keep him occupied and as quiet and still as possible. I'm very conscience of the noises he makes and I do everything I can to make sure he's not a major disruption. Some days are good and people hardly realize he's there and other days are not so good and I hope that the noise sitting next to or climbing all over me isn't as loud as I think it is. Sometimes, those are the days when Anthony gets called out during a homily or at the end of Mass. Those shout outs used to totally mortify me, but when they happen at what feels like 50% of the Masses we attend, I've gotten used to it, but there are still times (this past Christmas Eve comes to mind) where I want to pretend I have no idea who Father is talking about, but that's hard to do when you're holding said noisy baby.
We belong to an awesome parish where most people who approach me about my kids and their antics have very nice and encouraging things to say. And some of the ones who do come up to comment on the noise do it in such a lighthearted way that I'm never upset about it. I am aware that there are a few people at daily Mass who are less than thrilled about some of Anthony's noises, but aside from a glance or a sharp look when he's particularly vocal, they've never felt the need to approach me about it.
This past Friday, however, was different. I always sit in the same pew for Sunday Mass and holy days of obligation. So when we got to the church, the girls went to the sacristy to get ready to altar serve and Anthony and I went and sat in our usual spot. The spot that had the lady my kids call Grumpy Cat Lady, because she looks like Grumpy Cat from those memes, sitting in the pew right in front of where we sit. Several months ago Bryan pointed out to me that this particular woman has a habit of moving from her pew to another pew across the church anytime Anthony is behind her. The first several times she did it, I never noticed. I would see her in the pew, kneel down to pray and when I was finished the pew would either be empty or someone different would be sitting there. I always assumed that she was there from a prior Mass and had just left after she finished praying. Then there was the day when I finished praying and Bryan, looking annoyed, leaned over and told me that she moved again and told the woman next to her that Anthony was a screamer. At that particular Mass, Anthony didn't make a single sound. She turned and looked at us when we slipped into the pew and was visibly annoyed, so I wondered if she was going to move away from us. While I prayed before Mass, Anthony walked along the kneeler and the backs of my legs and quietly hummed what sounded like the Alleluia. It was a sweet happy little sound that was fairly quiet for him. He wedged himself between me and the back of the pew ahead of me while I was still kneeling and that's when I heard a growling "Shhhh!" which snapped me out of praying and caused me to look up. It was followed by a grumbling "Be quiet!" right in Anthony's face. My first thought was that she wasn't serious since he wasn't loud and he wasn't crying. She turned back, obviously annoyed and in a huff. Within a minute she had decided to pick up and move across the church and up a couple of pews.
Her actions just left me washed in emotions. I was hurt that she felt the need to so angrily snap at the baby. And then I started to feel very annoyed that she even thought that it was ok to do it which made me start to wonder how many people she's done this to before. Were we the only ones or have other families had her snap at their children or been made to feel unwelcome by her practice of getting up and moving away from them in a very obvious manner. Then I started to think about how I would have felt and reacted if this had happened when Madeline or Ellie were his age. I likely would have left the church right away horribly embarrassed and would have thought twice about going back for a long time if at all. I know it would have made me cry.
I know that not everyone has to like the sounds of children at Mass, but how you respond to those things that annoy or distract you at Mass affects those around you. Based on people coming up to me after the Mass and making overly kind comments about Anthony, I suspect her growling at the baby and subsequent relocation was noticed by those around me. I don't have the answer for the right way to approach the parent of a noisy child, because I also don't know how to tell the gossiping old ladies who chatter before and sometimes during Mass to zip it because they're bothering me. I also don't know how to tell the people who come to Mass doused in a bottle of smelly perfume that makes me feel sick to my stomach to lay off the scent. And, I also have no idea how to tell the people who either say the responses too fast, too slow or incorrectly to get with the program and say them right and on time. Do you know why I don't know the answers to those situations? It's because there are no tactful ways to tell someone that you find their presence at Holy Mass annoying. Responding rudely to someone at Mass may just be the thing that sends them out the door never to return. If you make it clear to someone that their presence at Mass is annoying and unwelcome they make take your hint and not come back. Would you want that on your conscience? I know I wouldn't.
Now I don't know why this woman is so grouchy about kids. Maybe she never had any or she just doesn't like children at all. Maybe seeing or hearing little kids reminds her that she has grandchildren that she never sees. A lot of people come up and tell me about their grandchildren that they never see or that parents never go to Mass and how they wish they would take them. So maybe she has a personal issue and Anthony strikes a nerve that hits a little too close to home. But we all have crosses to bear and lashing out at someone because their presence makes your cross a bit more difficult to carry in that moment isn't going to make anything better. I know for me personally there are times when I am sharply reminded of one of my crosses, but I can't take it out on someone else just because it upsets me. In those moments, I bring it to Our Lord and let him know why I'm upset, but I don't move away from what's upsetting me because I believe that it was placed before me for the benefit of helping me to grow in holiness.
So ultimately what I'm trying to say here is this: If you have a problem with the presence of a noisy baby, before confronting the parent or the baby about it stop and take a few moments to bring it to Our Lord. Tell Him that the annoying child that He created is getting on your last nerve. Tell Him why you find that child of God so repugnant and then take a few moments to see what He has to say. Then take a few moments and ask yourself if you might just be overreacting. Maybe you're justified in saying something, maybe you're not. Perhaps, this moment is a test. You could perhaps see it as a moment to bear a wrong patiently. Chances are the baby isn't doing it to annoy you, he's just doing it because he's little and he's testing out his God-given free will probably much to his parents' dismay. It's even possible that that mother sitting all by herself with an energetic toddler who treats the church like it's his second home is incredibly self conscious about every single sound her child is making, even the ones you don't hear. Mass with little ones can be very exhausting. It's an hour packed with trying to contain a little one who wants to run, climb, crawl, yell, sing and explore a very curious building filled with many new faces. It's enough to leave you feeling like you need a nap afterwards. While lashing out at the parent or baby might make you feel vindicated or triumphant, I can assure you that it will be remembered by the parent long past when you've forgotten what you've said.
Wednesday, August 12, 2015
Freaking Out on the Inside
I don't do particularly well on the two hour flight from Philadelphia to Orlando, so I can only imagine what the five hour flight from Philadelphia to San Diego will be like. I think my fear of flying is mostly linked to my motion sickness. The thought of willingly putting myself through several hours of nausea where I have no way of stopping for fresh air or a few minutes of solid ground beneath my feet is pretty unsettling. The lack of control over my circumstances is concerning to say the least. And as much as I'd like to just call the whole trip off, I know I can't. The kids are excited about going, Bryan is probably still in some state of shock that I agreed (even if only very reluctantly) to go out there, and one of my best friends was just so surprised that I'm flying out there that she and her husband have set us up with tickets to Disneyland for two days as well as a VIP tour guide for one day. So while I'm totally dreading the flights, I am excited about the things we'll get to do and see while we are there.
I'm spending a lot of time these days just trying to distract myself with things that are keeping me busy so I spend less time fretting about the flight. I'm trying to make sure we're packing the essentials that we'll need while we're out there. We have a tendency to overpack in a big way, so I'm trying to focus on going out there as slimmed down as possible. So far I think I'm doing this right. Of course, the moments where I start to feel like I'm going to have a panic attack when my mind goes back to why I'm packing have been keeping me from getting the job done. But, I'm almost done.
We're already in our second week of homeschooling for the new school year, and initially I thought we'd just leave all the work behind while we went away, but seeing how quickly the girls have been getting through most of their work, I've decided to put together packets for each of them so we don't have to completely lose a week of school. Bryan assures us that with the time difference, we will have several mornings where we wake up and it's still going to be the wee hours of the morning on the west coast, so I figure having some work with us will give the girls something productive to do in those instances. I also imagine they can get some work done on the plane.
This is the first time the kids and I will be going to California, so we're looking forward to being tourists for a week. Bryan keeps telling me that I have to see what it's like to have the ocean on the wrong side. That should be interesting. I'm looking forward to visiting a couple of the old Spanish mission churches. There are two near where we will be staying so I'm planning to visit each of them.
We'll be in the San Diego area so if any of you have any suggestions for places we should visit leave me a comment. I'm not too familiar with what's out there. Are there some great historical sites that we should visit? Is there a particular beach we should check out? Someone recently mentioned that there was some great shrine out there but she couldn't recall the name of it.
I'm doing my best to approach this trip as calmly as I can so I don't freak out the kids with my fear of flying too much. To me it feels like a crazy trust exercise with God. So on Saturday I'm going to do my best to offer up all my worries and fears and just lean on Our Lord to get me to the other side. So do me a favor, offer up a prayer on Saturday morning and the following Saturday morning, as well, that our flights will be on time, and uneventful.
I will do my best to share lots of pictures of our trip. I need to get back to blogging.
Thursday, June 4, 2015
How to Freak Out Your Friends
A lot has been going on around here lately. School is pretty much done, although one child is still finishing up math for the year. I'm in full out VBS planning mode. Soccer season is so close to being done that I can almost imagine what a house that doesn't smell like dirt or grass will be like. In my scarce free time I'm pouring over lesson plans for the upcoming school year while trying to compile study guides. Bryan is just hours away from having his ankle sliced open to repair a tendon he had the misfortune of snapping off two and a half weeks ago and I am just trying to stay sane in the midst of it all.
So tonight I stopped by a friend's house to drop off something, and I managed to freak her and her son out a bit. I was talking about Bryan's upcoming surgery and the fact that he's going under general anesthesia, something neither of us is thrilled about. I'm of the ilk that always seems to go to worst case scenario in just about any situation. Not in the pessimistic sense, but more or less just acknowledging the reality of what could happen. So when asked if Bryan was ready for tomorrow and talking about how he's just ready to get it done so he can get on with the four weeks of life on crutches followed by another two weeks in a walking boot, I had made an off handed remark that you should always be prepared to die. Now, I didn't mean that I think or expect that he will have any complications but rather, that one should always make sure their soul is in such a state that you're ready to die. I know not everyone thinks or feels that way. But I do and I feel so strongly about it.
You can well imagine that my friend was probably more than a little stunned at my words. So I had to explain how I feel that one should take care to make sure their soul is in a state of grace. Is my approach off? I'm really not sure that it is. I feel like the biggest tragedy that can befall a person is to be so lax in caring about the state of your soul that you would be willing to take the chance of dying while not in a state of grace.
Perhaps I'm too scrupulous, too focused on dotting i's and crossing t's, but I certainly make it a point to be sure that I get to confession regularly in my journey towards eternity. I would not want to spend an eternity in hell going over the should've could've would've's that would have saved me from an eternity of total separation from God. My end goal is sainthood, anything less than that would be tragic. Until then, I will continue to strive for sanctity. Will I fail along the way? You bet! But, the point is I'm not about to give up. As many times as I fail, I'm determined to dust myself off and seek reconciliation with Our Lord so I can try again. I figure eventually, I've got to make some progress on the road to perfection.
My friend did raise an important question that is certainly worth pondering. Is anyone ever really ready to die? I suppose some are, like those who have suffered through a long terminal illness who know that death is imminent. But I would imagine that most, like my friend and even me, have that unprepared not quite ready feeling. Until any of us really, honestly and truly knows where we stand with Our Lord, how can we be? But, really, it all boils down to hoping and trusting in God. One thing is certain. We're all going to die, so the least we can do is try to be at least somewhat prepared. Acting like you have years or even decades to go before you need to ponder this inescapable reality is likely not the best approach.
My advice is simply this. If you haven't been to confession in ages, just go. Why chance an eternity of misery; and more importantly, why deny yourself the mercy Our Lord so ardently desires to bestow on you if only you humble yourself and ask?
So tonight I stopped by a friend's house to drop off something, and I managed to freak her and her son out a bit. I was talking about Bryan's upcoming surgery and the fact that he's going under general anesthesia, something neither of us is thrilled about. I'm of the ilk that always seems to go to worst case scenario in just about any situation. Not in the pessimistic sense, but more or less just acknowledging the reality of what could happen. So when asked if Bryan was ready for tomorrow and talking about how he's just ready to get it done so he can get on with the four weeks of life on crutches followed by another two weeks in a walking boot, I had made an off handed remark that you should always be prepared to die. Now, I didn't mean that I think or expect that he will have any complications but rather, that one should always make sure their soul is in such a state that you're ready to die. I know not everyone thinks or feels that way. But I do and I feel so strongly about it.
You can well imagine that my friend was probably more than a little stunned at my words. So I had to explain how I feel that one should take care to make sure their soul is in a state of grace. Is my approach off? I'm really not sure that it is. I feel like the biggest tragedy that can befall a person is to be so lax in caring about the state of your soul that you would be willing to take the chance of dying while not in a state of grace.
Perhaps I'm too scrupulous, too focused on dotting i's and crossing t's, but I certainly make it a point to be sure that I get to confession regularly in my journey towards eternity. I would not want to spend an eternity in hell going over the should've could've would've's that would have saved me from an eternity of total separation from God. My end goal is sainthood, anything less than that would be tragic. Until then, I will continue to strive for sanctity. Will I fail along the way? You bet! But, the point is I'm not about to give up. As many times as I fail, I'm determined to dust myself off and seek reconciliation with Our Lord so I can try again. I figure eventually, I've got to make some progress on the road to perfection.
My friend did raise an important question that is certainly worth pondering. Is anyone ever really ready to die? I suppose some are, like those who have suffered through a long terminal illness who know that death is imminent. But I would imagine that most, like my friend and even me, have that unprepared not quite ready feeling. Until any of us really, honestly and truly knows where we stand with Our Lord, how can we be? But, really, it all boils down to hoping and trusting in God. One thing is certain. We're all going to die, so the least we can do is try to be at least somewhat prepared. Acting like you have years or even decades to go before you need to ponder this inescapable reality is likely not the best approach.
My advice is simply this. If you haven't been to confession in ages, just go. Why chance an eternity of misery; and more importantly, why deny yourself the mercy Our Lord so ardently desires to bestow on you if only you humble yourself and ask?
Monday, May 18, 2015
On My Mind
It's been such a long time since I've been able to just sit down and write. I really miss it, but it seems in any given day a small plethora of things just wind up taking precedence over me being able to blog.
Without fishing through previous blog posts, I have no idea how much I've shared about the kids. I had started to write about Katie and her being assessed for speech (which insurance frustratingly denied us coverage). We were told back in October or November that she's likely just a late talker. This past month has been very promising with Katie beginning to talk more. She uses sentences pretty frequently and people who don't live with us are starting to understand the things she does say. I'm in an odd place of feeling thrilled and excited about the words she can say, and yet still feeling frustrated and impatient that she isn't further along with speaking. It's a challenge, but I'm so grateful anytime she utters words I can understand. About two weeks ago she kept asking me "Why?" on a ride home from Target. With my older children the whys got on my nerves after so many iterations of it, but with Katie, I'm rejoicing that she's asking me a question with an actual word. It's interesting how perspective can change.
Anthony is a year old! It's crazy how quickly that first year passed. He's been walking since around Easter, but had started taking his first steps back in February. He's presently on a mission to slip by us and scale the stairs anytime he's sees an open gate. He claps, he waves, he shakes his head no, and tries to tackle me by throwing himself at my legs. Today he almost succeeded in knocking me over. He says words, for which I am very thankful. He can say Mama, Dada, Daddy, no (I'm not exactly thrilled he learned that particular word.), uh-oh and something that sounds remarkably like bye-bye.
The girls are pretty much done with the school year. They both have a state history test to complete and we still need to take a field trip and then we can call History done. Ellie has everything else for the year completed. Math and Madeline just shouldn't even be mentioned in the same sentence. I made an executive call last week and decided that even though she had just finished the final lesson in her math book that we were going to have to start over at the beginning of the fourth quarter and do it again. She wasn't retaining the information and when she would get stumped on classwork, she would go back to whatever lesson the problem was from and look at the example to figure it out. The problem with that was she would get the work done and it would be right, but when it was time to take a test, there was no book for her to look at to see how to do the problems. I'm sure I wasn't her favorite person when I told her we had to start over. Right now I'm going over two lessons a day with her and hand selecting the problems she struggles the most with to make sure she really understands how to do them so she won't have a problem when it's time to take the test.
Soccer season is still going. We had a lot of bad weather in March so three weeks of games that should have happened got cancelled or rescheduled for later in the spring. So while soccer should have wrapped up this past Saturday, it won't be done until June 6th. So that means that twice a week soccer practices will also keep going for the rest of this month and into June.
I came to the realization a few weeks ago that I've been praying for a specific intention for over six years now without seeing the result I'd love to see. Perhaps Our Lord is helping me to learn to be patient. Here and there I've seen articles and what not that say things to the effect that when a prayer isn't answered in the timing that you expect, it's because your heart isn't yet prepared to fully appreciate it. So on those days when I feel a bit like this is a hopeless cause and I feel like I'm on the brink of despair, I think maybe, just maybe that's it. It's also in those moments where I think that I should have a better relationship with St. Monica. I know she knows how I feel.
Since it's been over two months since I last wrote anything I suppose I should also mention that Madeline was confirmed last month. She chose Maria for her confirmation name to honor the Blessed Mother. I have every intention of putting together a post with pictures soon, I hope.
The VBS program had reached the max number of children we can take two months before hitting the registration deadline. I think registration was open for only about seven or eight weeks. Either the program has gained a really good reputation over these past few years, or the parents are really eager to get fifteen hours of kid free time for just $40 per child. Right now I'm working on making sure I have all of the volunteers that we need and I'm trying to pick out the music for the program. I'm almost there. Instead of stressing about it as I have in years past, I've just been focusing more on praying about it and seeing where the Spirit leads me.
The little man has just woken up from his nap. If all goes well, I'll find time later to add some pictures.
Without fishing through previous blog posts, I have no idea how much I've shared about the kids. I had started to write about Katie and her being assessed for speech (which insurance frustratingly denied us coverage). We were told back in October or November that she's likely just a late talker. This past month has been very promising with Katie beginning to talk more. She uses sentences pretty frequently and people who don't live with us are starting to understand the things she does say. I'm in an odd place of feeling thrilled and excited about the words she can say, and yet still feeling frustrated and impatient that she isn't further along with speaking. It's a challenge, but I'm so grateful anytime she utters words I can understand. About two weeks ago she kept asking me "Why?" on a ride home from Target. With my older children the whys got on my nerves after so many iterations of it, but with Katie, I'm rejoicing that she's asking me a question with an actual word. It's interesting how perspective can change.
Anthony is a year old! It's crazy how quickly that first year passed. He's been walking since around Easter, but had started taking his first steps back in February. He's presently on a mission to slip by us and scale the stairs anytime he's sees an open gate. He claps, he waves, he shakes his head no, and tries to tackle me by throwing himself at my legs. Today he almost succeeded in knocking me over. He says words, for which I am very thankful. He can say Mama, Dada, Daddy, no (I'm not exactly thrilled he learned that particular word.), uh-oh and something that sounds remarkably like bye-bye.
The girls are pretty much done with the school year. They both have a state history test to complete and we still need to take a field trip and then we can call History done. Ellie has everything else for the year completed. Math and Madeline just shouldn't even be mentioned in the same sentence. I made an executive call last week and decided that even though she had just finished the final lesson in her math book that we were going to have to start over at the beginning of the fourth quarter and do it again. She wasn't retaining the information and when she would get stumped on classwork, she would go back to whatever lesson the problem was from and look at the example to figure it out. The problem with that was she would get the work done and it would be right, but when it was time to take a test, there was no book for her to look at to see how to do the problems. I'm sure I wasn't her favorite person when I told her we had to start over. Right now I'm going over two lessons a day with her and hand selecting the problems she struggles the most with to make sure she really understands how to do them so she won't have a problem when it's time to take the test.
Soccer season is still going. We had a lot of bad weather in March so three weeks of games that should have happened got cancelled or rescheduled for later in the spring. So while soccer should have wrapped up this past Saturday, it won't be done until June 6th. So that means that twice a week soccer practices will also keep going for the rest of this month and into June.
I came to the realization a few weeks ago that I've been praying for a specific intention for over six years now without seeing the result I'd love to see. Perhaps Our Lord is helping me to learn to be patient. Here and there I've seen articles and what not that say things to the effect that when a prayer isn't answered in the timing that you expect, it's because your heart isn't yet prepared to fully appreciate it. So on those days when I feel a bit like this is a hopeless cause and I feel like I'm on the brink of despair, I think maybe, just maybe that's it. It's also in those moments where I think that I should have a better relationship with St. Monica. I know she knows how I feel.
Since it's been over two months since I last wrote anything I suppose I should also mention that Madeline was confirmed last month. She chose Maria for her confirmation name to honor the Blessed Mother. I have every intention of putting together a post with pictures soon, I hope.
The VBS program had reached the max number of children we can take two months before hitting the registration deadline. I think registration was open for only about seven or eight weeks. Either the program has gained a really good reputation over these past few years, or the parents are really eager to get fifteen hours of kid free time for just $40 per child. Right now I'm working on making sure I have all of the volunteers that we need and I'm trying to pick out the music for the program. I'm almost there. Instead of stressing about it as I have in years past, I've just been focusing more on praying about it and seeing where the Spirit leads me.
The little man has just woken up from his nap. If all goes well, I'll find time later to add some pictures.
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
A Work In Progress
At Mass this morning the homily struck a chord with me and I was thinking about what Father had said on my drive home. He talked about how each and every one of us is a work in progress. We're all a project that won't be completed until the end. Think about that. How often am I trying to rush to perfection only to find that I'm more like the proverbial frog in an algebra word problem who is trying to get out of a well only to fall back a few feet every time it makes some headway getting toward the top. I frequently find that I'm annoyed with myself for not being able to grasp perfection. That annoyance, is pride. And I'd go further to say it's because I often feel like attaining perfection is something I should be able to do on my own. But I can't, because it's not something I can do by myself. It requires grace, which I cannot fashion on my own.
So on my drive home it just sort of hit me. This work in progress that each of us is as we strive for perfection is really a lot like a fixer upper or money pit house. When you bought the house you knew there was going to be a fair amount of work involved. You may have even thought you could do all the repairs yourself. And maybe, to start, you were able to do a lot of the projects on your own. But what about when you discover that the house has some issues that aren't just cosmetic easy fixes like needing a coat of paint or a new tile floor? You find out the house has termites or some other problem that threatens the structure of the house. You need help; you can't do this job on your own. So you acknowledge your limitations and call in a professional to get the job done. It's a hit to your pride and probably your pocket because this was your project and you were the one who was going to take this fixer-upper and transform it into something perfect.
If you look at yourself as that fixer upper house, it's easy to see how our frustrations at our own imperfections is pride. And what is that pride doing? Is it helping you reach perfection, or is it like a collapsing foundation? You can't fix that foundation without help and you can't fix a broken soul without help either. We really are that broken down house, each and every one of us. Some of us may fly towards perfection faster than others, but we can't realistically expect to become perfect on our own. No, we need a professional, we need a Savior.
Thinking more along the lines of that fixer upper house, I like to think about how I was at the onset of this faith journey. I can recall sitting there thinking I really didn't have any vices or any real sins. And at some point I came to understand that I was essentially in denial. Wanting to be perfect, I was happy to stuff everything that I thought would shatter that illusion of perfection into a closet. In short, I was ok with just lying to myself. But I came to a point where I couldn't reconcile my perceived perfection against the words of 1 John 1:8-10. If we say, "We are without sin," we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we acknowledge our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive our sins and cleanse us from every wrongdoing. If we say, "We have not sinned," we make him a liar, and his word is not in us. Once I stopped deceiving myself, I took a look at myself, the fixer upper and realized there was some work to do. There was more than just some minor cosmetic issues that needed attention. There were big problems, too, like termites and structural issues. Once the big problems were gone, I thought for a short time that I was pretty close to attaining that sought after perfection (Why hello, Pride! What are you doing over there?). It didn't take long for me to realize that perfection isn't something easily won.
Like that frog in the algebra problem, every time I feel like I'm getting closer to getting out of the well, I slide back. Why? Because just like the fixer upper house, every time I make a needed repair, another issue, which I hadn't noticed needed fixing before, crops up. And so, looking at it like this, I came to realize that maybe I don't need to beat myself up when I take note of how far I am from perfect. Maybe when I draw my final breath I will have come close to perfection, but until then, I will remain a work in progress and for today, I'm ok with that.
So on my drive home it just sort of hit me. This work in progress that each of us is as we strive for perfection is really a lot like a fixer upper or money pit house. When you bought the house you knew there was going to be a fair amount of work involved. You may have even thought you could do all the repairs yourself. And maybe, to start, you were able to do a lot of the projects on your own. But what about when you discover that the house has some issues that aren't just cosmetic easy fixes like needing a coat of paint or a new tile floor? You find out the house has termites or some other problem that threatens the structure of the house. You need help; you can't do this job on your own. So you acknowledge your limitations and call in a professional to get the job done. It's a hit to your pride and probably your pocket because this was your project and you were the one who was going to take this fixer-upper and transform it into something perfect.
If you look at yourself as that fixer upper house, it's easy to see how our frustrations at our own imperfections is pride. And what is that pride doing? Is it helping you reach perfection, or is it like a collapsing foundation? You can't fix that foundation without help and you can't fix a broken soul without help either. We really are that broken down house, each and every one of us. Some of us may fly towards perfection faster than others, but we can't realistically expect to become perfect on our own. No, we need a professional, we need a Savior.
Thinking more along the lines of that fixer upper house, I like to think about how I was at the onset of this faith journey. I can recall sitting there thinking I really didn't have any vices or any real sins. And at some point I came to understand that I was essentially in denial. Wanting to be perfect, I was happy to stuff everything that I thought would shatter that illusion of perfection into a closet. In short, I was ok with just lying to myself. But I came to a point where I couldn't reconcile my perceived perfection against the words of 1 John 1:8-10. If we say, "We are without sin," we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we acknowledge our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive our sins and cleanse us from every wrongdoing. If we say, "We have not sinned," we make him a liar, and his word is not in us. Once I stopped deceiving myself, I took a look at myself, the fixer upper and realized there was some work to do. There was more than just some minor cosmetic issues that needed attention. There were big problems, too, like termites and structural issues. Once the big problems were gone, I thought for a short time that I was pretty close to attaining that sought after perfection (Why hello, Pride! What are you doing over there?). It didn't take long for me to realize that perfection isn't something easily won.
Like that frog in the algebra problem, every time I feel like I'm getting closer to getting out of the well, I slide back. Why? Because just like the fixer upper house, every time I make a needed repair, another issue, which I hadn't noticed needed fixing before, crops up. And so, looking at it like this, I came to realize that maybe I don't need to beat myself up when I take note of how far I am from perfect. Maybe when I draw my final breath I will have come close to perfection, but until then, I will remain a work in progress and for today, I'm ok with that.
Tuesday, November 18, 2014
Targeted Homilies
There are lots of times when I'm at Mass where I feel like the homily is so specific that it seems as if it's practically targeted at me. Most of the time it doesn't bother me because the topic is still broad enough that it's not like it has completely zeroed in and locked on me as it's specific target. And let's be real, no one is writing a homily with me in mind, at least I hope they're not. I suspect those homilies that seem to really hit home are just the Holy Spirit at work trying to make sure I get the point. That wouldn't surprise me given how stubborn I can be.
So the point of this is simply that I've noticed this less than awesome trend where I go to confession, which is pretty much every other week for the most part, and a few days or even a week later a homily comes along that is so close to what I was told by the priest in the confessional that I'm left wondering if perhaps Father thought I wasn't really listening to what he said the first time around. (99% of the time I really am listening and spend days afterward reflecting on it. Putting it into practice, however, is another story.) But mostly, I find my thoughts drifting towards wondering if the look on my face matches the internal cringing feeling that washes over me. Even more uncanny is how well the readings for Mass also seem to fall into place with reiterating whatever it was that I was told in the confessional. Is this all just mere happenstance, or is there something more going on?
Whether it's deliberate or pure coincidence I will say that I certainly drives home the point. Who knows maybe I'm such a frustrating work in progress that I'm not the only one who thinks I make the most painfully slow spiritual progress.
What I found interesting at Mass this morning was how the homily appeared to be expounding on a couple of points that were mentioned to me on Saturday. In particular, how using Mass almost as an escape to a bit of peace in my otherwise frenetic day isn't the right way of approaching it, even if it is essentially what keeps me focused and centered on my end goal. So if nothing else, more clarity was given, which is probably a good thing.
So the point of this is simply that I've noticed this less than awesome trend where I go to confession, which is pretty much every other week for the most part, and a few days or even a week later a homily comes along that is so close to what I was told by the priest in the confessional that I'm left wondering if perhaps Father thought I wasn't really listening to what he said the first time around. (99% of the time I really am listening and spend days afterward reflecting on it. Putting it into practice, however, is another story.) But mostly, I find my thoughts drifting towards wondering if the look on my face matches the internal cringing feeling that washes over me. Even more uncanny is how well the readings for Mass also seem to fall into place with reiterating whatever it was that I was told in the confessional. Is this all just mere happenstance, or is there something more going on?
Whether it's deliberate or pure coincidence I will say that I certainly drives home the point. Who knows maybe I'm such a frustrating work in progress that I'm not the only one who thinks I make the most painfully slow spiritual progress.
What I found interesting at Mass this morning was how the homily appeared to be expounding on a couple of points that were mentioned to me on Saturday. In particular, how using Mass almost as an escape to a bit of peace in my otherwise frenetic day isn't the right way of approaching it, even if it is essentially what keeps me focused and centered on my end goal. So if nothing else, more clarity was given, which is probably a good thing.
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
Flat Father Stanley and Pope Francis
Some of you probably recall me mentioning that I have a class mascot for my religious ed class that spends a week with each of my students. His name is Flat Father Stanley. He gets around and goes on a lot of neat adventures.
This summer I asked Josh, a seminarian from our parish, if he would be willing to take Flat Fr. Stanley with him when he went to study in Rome. He agreed to take him along for the adventure. I figured he'd take some cool pictures and be able to teach the kids a bit about Rome and Vatican City in the process. Imagine my surprise when I checked my Facebook wall this evening and discovered this picture:
Do you see that?! It's Flat Father Stanley and Pope Francis! Seriously, how awesome is that? I'm so excited for Josh and my little laminated mascot.
Please pray for Josh as he studies to be a priest. He's going to be an amazing one someday. And Josh asked me to pray for the fourth year men who are going to be ordained deacons this Thursday at St. Peter's. Please join me in praying for them, too.
Monday, July 22, 2013
The Dreaded Crying Room
About eight and a half years ago we began to learn the not so pleasant reality of the crying room. For about three and a half years I pretty much avoided Mass not wanting my young child to disturb others at Mass if she should cry or act as young children often do. So as we prepared to welcome a second child into our family we also attempted to get back into the routine of going to Sunday Mass. The attempt wound up being a fail of the crash and burn variety which I largely attribute to our decision to use the dreaded crying room. Still not wanting my eldest child to be the cause of annoyance to anyone at Mass we opted to sit in the crying room at our church. The concept of the crying room was nice, but the reality wasn't.
In theory, the crying room should be a place where I could retreat with an upset child where her noise making would not garner death stares from those around us. It was the prospect of those icy stares that sent us to the crying room. We learned quickly that the crying room wasn't an environment for reverence. The Sunday Mass missalettes were absent from the crying room so following along with the readings or singing with the rest of the congregation wasn't going to happen. Instead of pews, the crying room was furnished with metal folding chairs. And instead of a prayerful environment, we found a zoo like atmosphere where children ran wild, munched on snacks and played with toys. Our efforts to attend Mass on a weekly basis quickly fizzled. We felt like our options were: 1.) Hang out in the parish wild child exhibit for an hour each week. 2.) Sit in the nave and be subjected to icy stares anytime our children made noise. 3.) Just stay home. We wound up choosing option 3. Awful, right?
When we moved and started going to our current parish I told my husband that I had no intentions of ever setting foot in a crying room again. I would rather stand outside while I waited for my child to calm down rather than entertain the idea of a crying room. Of course, at the time when I made this decision my youngest was three years old. By then, she was pretty good at behaving quietly and I think I only ever had to bring her out to the narthex twice.
Even on Ellie's bad days, she was still behaved enough to remain in the nave of the church without disturbing anyone. There were days where I would cringe anytime she made a sound or acted like a child at Mass. I was so worried that we'd be an irritant to those around us. Instead, we found ourselves in a parish that seemed incredibly welcoming to young families. Warm smiles and words of encouragement is what we were met with on those tough days and I have to tell you that it really meant a lot to me.
Can I tell you that my biggest worry when I was expecting Katie was how I was going to be able to bring her to Mass and avoid the crying room? I wondered if those friendly people who were so encouraging of our middle daughter a few years before would tolerate a baby or a toddler sitting in their midst. I spent many hours wondering just how I was going to pull this off.
Much to my surprise, the first year of Mass with a baby went amazingly well. Most of the time Katie slept through Mass. We did have plenty of times where the baby would cry, but usually we were able to quiet her within a minute or so. I want to say that she was probably 8 or 9 months old the first time we actually had to take her out to the narthex due to crying. The lovely elderly woman who sits behind us most weeks was always so encouraging on our more difficult weeks. And when Katie did have a bad day at Mass, most of the time we had friends around us offering us a kind smile or a sympathetic glance.
Now that Katie is a toddler things have been a bit trickier. She rarely sleeps through Mass and she's interested in getting into things. So there are weeks where I feel like I need to apologize to the person in front of us because my child thought it would be funny to toss a pacifier at her, or because she decided to scream in close proximity to them. Thankfully, Katie is pretty well behaved for the most part. She does have her moments where she reveals that she is, in fact, a toddler but fortunately those moments are few and far between. Sometimes, those toddler moments are timed so perfectly that they wind up becoming part of the homily, like this past Saturday for instance. Katie decided to let out an ear piercing screech that left me cringing during Father's homily. Her timing was so good that Father went with it and mentioned that it was an excellent opportunity for patience. Another time, one of our other priests was able to comment that her crying and his annoyance at it made him realize that he had no room to say anything about it when he began to read the gospel for that Mass. So it was yet another time that she worked her way into the homily. So in those moments when she finds her way into a homily, I do internally cringe a bit, but I have come to a point where I accept that she's one and she's not going to behave like a mini adult.
Now just because I refuse to use the crying room doesn't mean that I'm being selfish or refusing to consider those around me. I'm not about to sit in the church and just let her wail for an hour. For a Sunday Mass both Bryan and I are fully prepared to remove her to the narthex of the church if we are not able to clam her within a minute. For daily Mass, I sit near the back of the church on the outside aisle. I do this so I can remove her to the narthex as quickly as possible if the need should arise. I'd have to say that daily Mass is probably the only time I'd ever consider retreating upstairs to the crying room. And that's only because I know that it's empty. I haven't had to remove her from a daily Mass yet, but if I did, I'd probably be more inclined to just stand in the narthex.
I think that crying rooms would be less of a hot button issue if they were only used for children who were crying or in the midst of a melt down. Instead, they seem to be hotbeds of chaos where parents let their kids run wild. Of course, it's not just parents of young children who use the crying room. I once had a 7th grade religious ed student tell me that her mom preferred to sit up in the crying room so that she could chat with her friend during Mass. The biggest issue with crying rooms is they seem to be devoid of all reverence.
When I think about the concept of the crying room it does make me think that in a way the church is saying that little ones aren't necessarily welcome at Mass. True they're not obligated to attend until they reach the age of reason, but they're still a part of the parish community and should be included. I'm convinced that you cannot train little ones to behave properly at Mass by brining them to the crying room week after week.
Check out the link-up at Catholic All Year where other moms share their thoughts on the crying room, too.
In theory, the crying room should be a place where I could retreat with an upset child where her noise making would not garner death stares from those around us. It was the prospect of those icy stares that sent us to the crying room. We learned quickly that the crying room wasn't an environment for reverence. The Sunday Mass missalettes were absent from the crying room so following along with the readings or singing with the rest of the congregation wasn't going to happen. Instead of pews, the crying room was furnished with metal folding chairs. And instead of a prayerful environment, we found a zoo like atmosphere where children ran wild, munched on snacks and played with toys. Our efforts to attend Mass on a weekly basis quickly fizzled. We felt like our options were: 1.) Hang out in the parish wild child exhibit for an hour each week. 2.) Sit in the nave and be subjected to icy stares anytime our children made noise. 3.) Just stay home. We wound up choosing option 3. Awful, right?
When we moved and started going to our current parish I told my husband that I had no intentions of ever setting foot in a crying room again. I would rather stand outside while I waited for my child to calm down rather than entertain the idea of a crying room. Of course, at the time when I made this decision my youngest was three years old. By then, she was pretty good at behaving quietly and I think I only ever had to bring her out to the narthex twice.
Even on Ellie's bad days, she was still behaved enough to remain in the nave of the church without disturbing anyone. There were days where I would cringe anytime she made a sound or acted like a child at Mass. I was so worried that we'd be an irritant to those around us. Instead, we found ourselves in a parish that seemed incredibly welcoming to young families. Warm smiles and words of encouragement is what we were met with on those tough days and I have to tell you that it really meant a lot to me.
Can I tell you that my biggest worry when I was expecting Katie was how I was going to be able to bring her to Mass and avoid the crying room? I wondered if those friendly people who were so encouraging of our middle daughter a few years before would tolerate a baby or a toddler sitting in their midst. I spent many hours wondering just how I was going to pull this off.
Much to my surprise, the first year of Mass with a baby went amazingly well. Most of the time Katie slept through Mass. We did have plenty of times where the baby would cry, but usually we were able to quiet her within a minute or so. I want to say that she was probably 8 or 9 months old the first time we actually had to take her out to the narthex due to crying. The lovely elderly woman who sits behind us most weeks was always so encouraging on our more difficult weeks. And when Katie did have a bad day at Mass, most of the time we had friends around us offering us a kind smile or a sympathetic glance.
Now just because I refuse to use the crying room doesn't mean that I'm being selfish or refusing to consider those around me. I'm not about to sit in the church and just let her wail for an hour. For a Sunday Mass both Bryan and I are fully prepared to remove her to the narthex of the church if we are not able to clam her within a minute. For daily Mass, I sit near the back of the church on the outside aisle. I do this so I can remove her to the narthex as quickly as possible if the need should arise. I'd have to say that daily Mass is probably the only time I'd ever consider retreating upstairs to the crying room. And that's only because I know that it's empty. I haven't had to remove her from a daily Mass yet, but if I did, I'd probably be more inclined to just stand in the narthex.
I think that crying rooms would be less of a hot button issue if they were only used for children who were crying or in the midst of a melt down. Instead, they seem to be hotbeds of chaos where parents let their kids run wild. Of course, it's not just parents of young children who use the crying room. I once had a 7th grade religious ed student tell me that her mom preferred to sit up in the crying room so that she could chat with her friend during Mass. The biggest issue with crying rooms is they seem to be devoid of all reverence.
When I think about the concept of the crying room it does make me think that in a way the church is saying that little ones aren't necessarily welcome at Mass. True they're not obligated to attend until they reach the age of reason, but they're still a part of the parish community and should be included. I'm convinced that you cannot train little ones to behave properly at Mass by brining them to the crying room week after week.
Check out the link-up at Catholic All Year where other moms share their thoughts on the crying room, too.
Thursday, July 4, 2013
Awwkwaaard!
Ever have those moments where you're the stand alone odd-ball? I have them more often than I care to recall. I guess it goes with the territory of being me. Today I got treated to one of those moments early in the day.
After Mass two days a week our parish has two devotions that I'd say fall under the "optional" heading. On Wednesday it's the Miraculous Medal novena and on Thursday it's the Litany of St. John Neumann. On both of these days I leave the church right after we pray the Prayer to St. Michael the Archangel. Ordinarily there's a handful of people who are also leaving when I leave so I don't feel awkward leaving. Today, however, was different. Somehow, at a daily Mass that was pretty well attended, I managed to be the lone person who opted to get up and leave. Awwwwkwwaaaarrrd! Nothing makes you second guess your practice of opting out of the optional quite like this!
Here's the thing, as a convert to Catholicism there are some things that just don't resonate with me the way that other things do. Take the rosary for example. I'm all for it. I love it and it's one of the aspects of Catholicism that really drew me in like a tractor beam. Novenas....not so much. I honestly think I lack the attention span for them. As much as I've tried to get into some different novenas they just don't click with me the way they seem to with others. I suppose that's one of the awesome things about Catholicism. There are so many different optional devotions from which you can pick and choose. It's like a buffet of spirituality.
As I think about this morning's awkwardness I wonder if there was another aspect involved in everyone but me staying. There was a relic of St. John Neumann on the altar. Can you guess where I'm going with this? Relics. Yeah, you could say that I don't quite get relics either. Actually, they really weird me out....particularly the ones that are body parts (1st class relics). Want to make me uncomfortable? Introduce me to the bone fragment, fingernail clippings or scab of a saint. My thoughts don't run to the awestruck "This was a part of St. _________!" No, instead my thoughts are more along the lines of "Why did someone save his scab? Who does that?" or "Did they purposely dig up St._________ and hack off bits and pieces of his bones to distribute as relics?" I'm ok with 2nd and 3rd class relics since they don't have that element of being macabre. I should note that 1st class relics that are say in an altar stone don't bother me, it's more or less relics that are on display that make me uncomfortable.
So there you have it. Put two devotional aspects together that just don't resonate well with me and you have the perfect formula for an induced bout of awkwardness.
After Mass two days a week our parish has two devotions that I'd say fall under the "optional" heading. On Wednesday it's the Miraculous Medal novena and on Thursday it's the Litany of St. John Neumann. On both of these days I leave the church right after we pray the Prayer to St. Michael the Archangel. Ordinarily there's a handful of people who are also leaving when I leave so I don't feel awkward leaving. Today, however, was different. Somehow, at a daily Mass that was pretty well attended, I managed to be the lone person who opted to get up and leave. Awwwwkwwaaaarrrd! Nothing makes you second guess your practice of opting out of the optional quite like this!
Here's the thing, as a convert to Catholicism there are some things that just don't resonate with me the way that other things do. Take the rosary for example. I'm all for it. I love it and it's one of the aspects of Catholicism that really drew me in like a tractor beam. Novenas....not so much. I honestly think I lack the attention span for them. As much as I've tried to get into some different novenas they just don't click with me the way they seem to with others. I suppose that's one of the awesome things about Catholicism. There are so many different optional devotions from which you can pick and choose. It's like a buffet of spirituality.
So there you have it. Put two devotional aspects together that just don't resonate well with me and you have the perfect formula for an induced bout of awkwardness.
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
The Spirit at Work
I don't take Katie with me to daily Mass every day. There are lots of mornings where she stays at home with Bryan and watches playhouse Disney or whatever kiddie show Bryan decides to put on TV. I know she loves it since she gets to watch TV which doesn't happen during the day for her very often.
I have noticed an amazing transformation in Katie's behavior in the few weeks that she's been coming with me to daily Mass two to three times a week. She used to squirm around a lot and would often need me to pop a pacifier in her mouth to keep her happy. She would also rummage through my purse and pull everything out when she wasn't fixated on trying to destroy my Magnificat. Amid all of those toddler antics, she began holding her hands out in the orans posture during the Our Father simply by watching others around her doing it.
Sometime in the past two weeks she has become a lot less antsy at Mass. She still moves around a lot, but now she doesn't rummage through my purse and can typically make it through the entire Mass with no toys or drink to occupy her. The kneeler seems to be all she needs to be happy. And she seems to be picking up more on how she should behave at Mass. Saturday during Mass she insisted on standing on the kneeler during the consecration rather than letting me or Bryan hold her like we usually do. I glanced over at her at one point and saw her staring at the altar with her little hands adorably folded. It was the sweetest thing. I couldn't help but nudge Bryan and motion for him to look. The two Masses she's been to since Saturday have been more of the same. Today she has begun trying to make the sign of the cross. It's not perfect, but you can tell what she is trying to accomplish. I can't help but think that the Holy Spirit is at work in this precious little child.
Book Review: Share the Bounty
A long while back, I received the e-book version of Share the Bounty: Finding God's Grace through the Spirit of Hospitality
. The book is a beautiful meld of recipes and inspiration. It's also visually pleasing. From gorgeous pictures of the recipes featured in this book to beautiful pictures of welcoming kitchens and rooms. This book feels like HGTV and Food Network got together and created a book that centers on good food and faith.As I paged through this book I saw plenty of recipes that I would certainly like to try. After reading through the ingredients and the steps to make them, I determined that this is a cook book that even people like myself who don't do a lot of cooking can handle. Unlike many cook books I've read recently, most of the items required for these desserts and dishes are easily found in a local grocery store. That's important to me because I hate finding a recipe that I know I want to try and discovering that some of the ingredients aren't readily available at the local grocery store.
The book is filled with lots of scripture and inspirational quotes that will help you to focus your heart and mind on creating a spirit of hospitality. I like the mixture of recipes and inspiration. It makes the book about more than just cooking good food.
Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the publisher through the BookSneeze®.com <http://BookSneeze®.com> book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255 <http://www.access.gpo.gov/nara/cfr/waisidx_03/16cfr255_03.html> : “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”
Thursday, April 25, 2013
A Moving Encounter
I had one of those mornings where the day wasn't starting off well. It's take your child to work day today and Madeline really wanted to stay home with me. Not too long ago she told me I didn't do anything because I don't work. It's true I don't have a paid job, but I do work. My day starts by 6:45am every day and I'm busy pretty much from that point until around 9pm or later. Yesterday she came home from school and suddenly she was telling me that she wanted to stay home from school today and proceeded to tell me that my work as a stay at home mom was important and she could learn about it by staying home. Bryan and I discussed it and we thought it would be best for her to go to school. This morning I considered letting her stay home but decided against it once I saw all the kids she told me would be staying home at the bus stop. At that point I started getting texts from her while she was on the bus first telling me she hated me and then pleading with me to sign her out before lunch because no one would be there. I was feeling frazzled by the time I loaded Katie in the van to head to Mass.
Once we got to the church I was mentally preparing myself for whatever Katie might throw at me over the next half-hour (figuratively and literally). Just as I was a few steps away from the doors a woman who I had seen at Mass many times before stopped me and wanted to know what size Katie wore. I thought it was an odd question but I answered it figuring that maybe she was trying to gauge the size of a child she was buying a gift for or something like that. It's not the first time someone has come up to me to ask what size one of my girls is wearing to figure out what size to buy for a grandchild or niece, but usually it happens when we're in a store. Then she said something that I wasn't expecting. "I just buried my two year old." I stood there and felt stunned and overwhelmingly sad for her. She told me that she had seen Katie at Mass with me several times and had been wondering about her size. She has been going through her daughter's clothing and thought perhaps some of her little saint's clothing might fit Katie. At this point I couldn't keep myself from crying. I talked to her for a few minutes, told her I needed to give her a hug, and asked her name and her baby's name so I could pray for her. When she told me her daughter's name I realized I had already been praying for them but I didn't tell her that.
I spent most of the Mass trying not to lose it. I felt like a wreck. And Katie, well she was so incredibly well behaved. Usually she empties the contents of my purse all over the pew and then takes my Magnificat and tries to rip it when we're at a daily Mass. Today she happily played on the kneeler and didn't make a peep. My usual Mass intention changed immediately after my encounter with this woman.
I cannot imagine the sorrow this mother must feel having lost her sweet child. I have seen her and her husband at Mass many times in the past six weeks. They usually sit near me and I had noticed about a month and a half ago that they looked like they were carrying a very great sadness and I have wondered about them. Their little one passed just two months ago.
I only spoke with this grieving mother for a few minutes, but I am in awe of her faith and her strength. Even in her sorrow she praises God. I'd like to think I have that sort of faith, but I suspect on some level I'd falter.
I'll be praying in a special way for little Sarah's Mommy and Daddy. Will you join me in lifting them up in prayer?
Once we got to the church I was mentally preparing myself for whatever Katie might throw at me over the next half-hour (figuratively and literally). Just as I was a few steps away from the doors a woman who I had seen at Mass many times before stopped me and wanted to know what size Katie wore. I thought it was an odd question but I answered it figuring that maybe she was trying to gauge the size of a child she was buying a gift for or something like that. It's not the first time someone has come up to me to ask what size one of my girls is wearing to figure out what size to buy for a grandchild or niece, but usually it happens when we're in a store. Then she said something that I wasn't expecting. "I just buried my two year old." I stood there and felt stunned and overwhelmingly sad for her. She told me that she had seen Katie at Mass with me several times and had been wondering about her size. She has been going through her daughter's clothing and thought perhaps some of her little saint's clothing might fit Katie. At this point I couldn't keep myself from crying. I talked to her for a few minutes, told her I needed to give her a hug, and asked her name and her baby's name so I could pray for her. When she told me her daughter's name I realized I had already been praying for them but I didn't tell her that.
I spent most of the Mass trying not to lose it. I felt like a wreck. And Katie, well she was so incredibly well behaved. Usually she empties the contents of my purse all over the pew and then takes my Magnificat and tries to rip it when we're at a daily Mass. Today she happily played on the kneeler and didn't make a peep. My usual Mass intention changed immediately after my encounter with this woman.
I cannot imagine the sorrow this mother must feel having lost her sweet child. I have seen her and her husband at Mass many times in the past six weeks. They usually sit near me and I had noticed about a month and a half ago that they looked like they were carrying a very great sadness and I have wondered about them. Their little one passed just two months ago.
I only spoke with this grieving mother for a few minutes, but I am in awe of her faith and her strength. Even in her sorrow she praises God. I'd like to think I have that sort of faith, but I suspect on some level I'd falter.
I'll be praying in a special way for little Sarah's Mommy and Daddy. Will you join me in lifting them up in prayer?
Why I Bring My Toddler to Mass
Let me give you my take on why I bring my toddler to Mass. But first, let me tell you why I didn't bring my first two children to Mass. I was once one of those grouchy people who were annoyed at those parents who brought their noisy child to Mass. I didn't get it. I was one of those childless know it all people who couldn't fathom why the parents couldn't keep their child [regardless of age] quiet at church or at the restaurant. Now that I have kids, I get it. I know that sometimes you just can't reason with an unreasonable child no matter how hard you try. So now I'm less likely to be annoyed by your noisy child at Mass or when I'm dining out provided that you are actually taking action to settle your chid. If, however, you're the person who sat next to me at the 2012 Easter Vigil who allowed your toddler to scream and wail for two solid hours while those of us around you tried to calm your child, then I'm not going to cut you any slack and I will continue to wonder why you didn't take that child to the cry room or the narthex so the rest of us could hear Mass. And I feel I can ask that question because I held my sleeping infant while your child sat right next to me and screamed. I would feel differently if you had actually attempted to sooth the child or remove her from the church after the first 10 minutes of wailing.
When Madeline and Ellie were very small we attended Mass very infrequently. So infrequently that there were times when we went an entire year or more between darkening the door of our parish church. It wasn't because I couldn't be bothered to carve out an hour for Mass each Saturday night or Sunday. The bottom line was I didn't want to irritate people if my children made noise. So it was fear of angry stares or uncharitable words that kept our young family from Mass. When we did attempt to start going to Mass regularly around the time that Ellie was born we sat in the crying room. The crying room was a zoo. There's no reverence in the crying room. It's wild chaos. In the crying room at our beautiful parish church we had to sit on metal folding chairs . There were no kneelers, so our four year old wasn't learning how to participate in the Mass. Instead, she would sit and complain that she couldn't "see the show." A couple of times we attempted to sit out in the pews, but I would retreat to the crying room as soon as the baby cried. I was so worried that people would be annoyed with me for bringing my baby to Mass.
By the time Ellie was three we were at a different parish attending Mass every week. When Ellie would make some noise or start playing with the kneeler, I would cringe. I fully expected those around me to be irritated by her antics. Instead, they were welcoming and encouraging. For a while there it was just me and the girls going to Mass and I couldn't leave Madeline sitting in the pew to take Ellie in the back without causing a big commotion, so we stayed put. Even on the days when I thought she was badly behaved, the lovely older woman behind me would tell me she did a good job and was so incredibly encouraging. As time progressed other parishioners would complement Ellie on her good behavior. So while I thought she was being disruptive, they thought she was actually quite well behaved.
When I was expecting Katie, I began to worry about how I would be able to bring her to Mass. I had decided years before that I was NEVER going back to the crying room. It's different in our current parish than the one we used to go to when Ellie was a baby, but I want no part of it. For the most part we have been very blessed with Katie behaving quite well at Mass even on her bad days. The vast majority of Masses she attended during her first year she slept through all or part of the Mass. We have had a handful of weeks where she has been fussy, but we have only had to remove her from the church about five times.
Maybe our baby irritates some people at Mass. I don't let her scream and wail at Mass, but I also don't fly out of the pew and head for the back of the church at the first cry. If I can't quiet her within a minute, then I'll get up and take her out. Most of the time she settles down for us quickly. Sometimes she cries, but that's what babies do. If she babbles during a song, I don't fret about it. For the most part, the people who sit around us are happy to see her. The lovely older woman who sits behind us at the 5:30 vigil Mass will even hold Katie's hand during the readings to sooth her if she's fussy. And on the bad days, I typically find friends smiling back at us or giving me a sympathetic glance. So I think offering a welcoming environment to parents of little ones is important. I'd probably contemplate leaving Katie at home with Bryan and not going to Mass as a family if I was getting angry glares or comments on a regular basis.
So why do I bring my toddler to Mass? Well I bring her because I want her to grow up knowing that going to Mass is important. It's non-negotiable. Unless we're ill or there's inclement weather that makes traveling to Mass unsafe, we are there every weekend without fail. I bring her because I want her to grow up practicing and loving her faith. I bring her because I need the graces that I get by attending Mass with my children. I bring her because in doing so I stop focusing on myself and I focus on what truly matters, my God and my family. I bring her because I promised at her baptism to raise her in the faith. I bring her because I was very sternly told once in confession that failing to bring my children to Mass is failing in my duties as a Catholic mother. I don't like to fail, and I haven't missed Mass for a frivolous reason since.
So what do I get out of bringing my children to Mass? Well this is an easy one. I get to spend the best hour of my week with my husband and my children and to top it off I get to meet Our Lord in the Eucharist. That's what I get. And even when Katie is at her worst, I still come away from Mass feeling incredibly at peace and centered. I suppose that's grace at work.
Now recently I started stepping out of my comfort zone. I began going to daily Mass a few times a week during Lent. I only went on days when Bryan was at home in the morning so I could leave Katie with him so I wouldn't disturb anyone at Mass with my sometimes noisy toddler. Then one morning I had no choice but to bring her with me. My options were bring the baby to daily Mass or stay home. I was determined to go to Mass so I brought her. I was incredibly anxious. I was amazed when we got through the entire Mass without a peep from Katie. And best of all, the elderly woman sitting behind us came up to me after Mass to tell me how nice it was to see my little one at Mass. What a relief! It was at least another month before I brought Katie back to a daily Mass. I formulated a plan for where to sit so I would be able to either stand off to the side or make a retreat to the narthex if she became fussy. Over the past four weeks Katie has gone to several daily Masses with me. Only a few times has she cried and not once have we been given the stink eye. I have a friend who sometimes sits behind us and her children apparently entertain Katie and she does likewise.
Oh, and can I tell you what my toddler gets out of going to daily Mass? She's picking up certain mannerisms and postures. She holds her hands out during the Our Father like many of the other parishioners do (I do not). Bryan noticed it when we were at Mass this past Sunday. She can't kneel and see what's going on at the altar, but she tends to wiggle out of my arms during the consecration so she can stand on the kneeler and watch. So she knows that something special is going on up there. So she's learning.
So I bring my toddler to Mass because she belongs there. As a baptized Catholic she has every much of a right to attend Mass as the rest of us. It's true that she isn't obligated to be there until she reaches the age of reason but I think she'll grow to know and love her Catholic faith if it's part of her every day life now.
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
When Worrying is for Naught
I'm a worry wort by nature. I have been since I was at least four years old. Worrying...it's what I do. My worrying used to be a lot worse when I was a kid, which is odd when you consider that I should probably be the reverse. There are days when I'm amazed at how little I worry by comparison to my younger years. Perhaps it's because what would have been flat out worrying back then has been parlayed into prayer. That's probably the difference. Anyway, I still worry.
Something that I took on for Lent is going to daily Mass 2-3 times a week. So far I've been able to get to Mass three times during the week while Bryan works from home. I've got the routine down. The two older girls hop on their busses and a few minutes later I hop in the car and head to Mass while Katie hangs out with Bryan before he heads to his basement office to work. It's working out really well. So well, in fact, that I hope to keep up the trend after Lent. My stumbling block and source of recent worry came when I discovered that Ellie's opthamologist appointment was this morning at 8am, the same time as Mass. Bryan is the one who takes the girls to this particular doctor. So my most recent worry revolved around whether or not I could take Katie with me to Mass without causing a major disturbance. When you have the only toddler at Mass those cries and shrieks really carry, and one thing I really try to avoid is attention in those situations. I probably spent way too much time worrying about it. Then I decided that I'd find a way to go to the 6:30PM Mass instead, but then that means that I have a major time crunch with the girls choir practice and dinner. So I worried about possibly creating an unnecessary disruption to our evening.
So this morning when Bryan woke me up at 6:45 I had a few minutes of going back and forth over whether or not to go to take Katie with me. Ultimately I decided to go and hope for the best. I figured we could sit closer to the back which would allow me to scurry her out of the church if needed. Then I figured in a worst case scenario I could take her upstairs to the crying room, which to me amounts to total defeat. So we went to Mass and Katie snuggled with me, and played with my car keys and made not a single peep. All that worrying was for nothing. Who knows, maybe I really could take her to Mass with me the two days a week that Bryan goes into the office.
And while I went into the church assuming that at one point or another I'd get scowled at for brining my screaming toddler, instead the older woman at the other end of my pew walked over to us during the sign of peace to say hello to Katie and kind words to me. What an awesome morning! It's amazing how different the reality was from what I was afraid it might be. And it was so nice to turn around to find friends in the pews behind me. So even if she did cry, we would have met friendly faces and not scowls. All the more reason for me to take Padro Pio's exhortation to "pray, hope and don't worry" to heart.
Something that I took on for Lent is going to daily Mass 2-3 times a week. So far I've been able to get to Mass three times during the week while Bryan works from home. I've got the routine down. The two older girls hop on their busses and a few minutes later I hop in the car and head to Mass while Katie hangs out with Bryan before he heads to his basement office to work. It's working out really well. So well, in fact, that I hope to keep up the trend after Lent. My stumbling block and source of recent worry came when I discovered that Ellie's opthamologist appointment was this morning at 8am, the same time as Mass. Bryan is the one who takes the girls to this particular doctor. So my most recent worry revolved around whether or not I could take Katie with me to Mass without causing a major disturbance. When you have the only toddler at Mass those cries and shrieks really carry, and one thing I really try to avoid is attention in those situations. I probably spent way too much time worrying about it. Then I decided that I'd find a way to go to the 6:30PM Mass instead, but then that means that I have a major time crunch with the girls choir practice and dinner. So I worried about possibly creating an unnecessary disruption to our evening.
So this morning when Bryan woke me up at 6:45 I had a few minutes of going back and forth over whether or not to go to take Katie with me. Ultimately I decided to go and hope for the best. I figured we could sit closer to the back which would allow me to scurry her out of the church if needed. Then I figured in a worst case scenario I could take her upstairs to the crying room, which to me amounts to total defeat. So we went to Mass and Katie snuggled with me, and played with my car keys and made not a single peep. All that worrying was for nothing. Who knows, maybe I really could take her to Mass with me the two days a week that Bryan goes into the office.
And while I went into the church assuming that at one point or another I'd get scowled at for brining my screaming toddler, instead the older woman at the other end of my pew walked over to us during the sign of peace to say hello to Katie and kind words to me. What an awesome morning! It's amazing how different the reality was from what I was afraid it might be. And it was so nice to turn around to find friends in the pews behind me. So even if she did cry, we would have met friendly faces and not scowls. All the more reason for me to take Padro Pio's exhortation to "pray, hope and don't worry" to heart.
Monday, December 31, 2012
A Parton Saint for the New Year
Head over to Truth and Charity and use their Random Saint Generator to pick a patron saint for the new year. My patron saint for 2013 is St. John Neumann. What a great match for me considering our parish has an adoration chapel named for him. Maybe there's a better chance that I won't continually forget about him like I did my patron saint for 2012.
Monday, October 15, 2012
How do you respond?
When faced with someone of very little to no faith how to you respond to them? What do you say to someone who pointedly asks you what God has done for them lately or ever? I get questions like that tossed at me from time to time and no answer I give is sufficient. Often times, my response is scorned or ridiculed. And these questions and barbed responses, because of who they are from, cut straight to my soul each and every time.
My faith in God is something that comes to me easily enough. It's expressing that faith and trying to convey why it is important to one person in particular that is the great difficulty. I simply cannot understand how someone who shares many of the same experiences in life that I do cannot see how God is working in and through our lives.
At times, I feel incredibly heartsick over the things I have been told. I can't explain it, but I'm pretty sure it's a cross I have to bear. I've wondered over the years why God has brought me to this place. Maybe He's brought me here to plant seeds of faith which I need to water with fervent prayer and patience. I try, but I don't know that I have the boundless patience of someone like St. Monica. What I have is a restless soul that is eager for immediate results, results which I fear may never come to fruition.
My faith in God is something that comes to me easily enough. It's expressing that faith and trying to convey why it is important to one person in particular that is the great difficulty. I simply cannot understand how someone who shares many of the same experiences in life that I do cannot see how God is working in and through our lives.
At times, I feel incredibly heartsick over the things I have been told. I can't explain it, but I'm pretty sure it's a cross I have to bear. I've wondered over the years why God has brought me to this place. Maybe He's brought me here to plant seeds of faith which I need to water with fervent prayer and patience. I try, but I don't know that I have the boundless patience of someone like St. Monica. What I have is a restless soul that is eager for immediate results, results which I fear may never come to fruition.
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