AMDG

So proud of Murphy for volunteering to feed the homeless with the Labre Ministry last Sunday night. Bill and Murphy spent 5 hours preparing and packaging and delivering the food to just some of the hundreds (if not thousands) of homeless in Cleveland. They went to places that we drive by everyday without a thought as to the people that are living under those bridges or next to that drainage ditch or in the corner of that parking lot. St. Ignatius High School does this in the spirit of God's Love.
Please watch this 3 minute video - and keep an eye out for the tall red head (you know, the cute one) I'm most touched by seeing the image of my Murphy bent on one knee in front of the Blessed Sacrament. God is good!

At the Cross

I have been contemplating the suggestion "Leaving it all at the foot of the Cross" I hear it time and time again and I also read it in awesome books from awesome people. I struggle with it not because of God's limitations but because of my own. Seriously, how does one sit in the presence of the Crucified Christ and then just "leave it all at the foot of the Cross"? I get the meaning behind the suggestion - that Christ died for our sins and that when you leave your pain, suffering, sadness, etc. at the foot then it is redeemed or eliminated (cannot think of any good descriptive words tonight, ugh)

Here, again, is where I falter. I have 2 bulging discs in my back and I have been so depressed and very pained by it. I soooo try to offer up my pain because I am able to live (albeit with much discomfort) with it and know that there are so many that are afflicted with much more serious issues - physically and/or emotionally. So, I do ask Our Father to use my pain for someone else. I do remember my friends and my family in my prayers and ask that any suffering that I endure be offered up for their happiness and well-being. Don't get me wrong, I am the WORST kind of martyr. I am certain that God will never put me in a situation where I must suffer silently. I called or emailed every single person I know that has experienced back pain just to commiserate. Martyr? No! But, I try - I truly try to get something from all of this. I am, however, unable to stare and contemplate the Cross and then "leave my pain" there.

The other day I was at St. Paul Shrine in downtown Cleveland (just one of many beautiful churches in the Cleveland area) and they have several wonderful statues around the perimeter of the church. I knelt down before the Pieta and looked in to Our Lady's eyes and I could not bring myself to ask for prayers for my back. I realize that I am missing the point of the Crucifixion in my not being able to do this. I know that the Crucifixion was for me and for all of my sins and that Jesus' intense love for me includes His WANTING to take my cross for me. However, I want to take His Cross for Him. I want to soothe Our Lady's pain as She held Her Son. I want to be the one that is there at the foot of the Cross giving Him comfort as so many abandoned Him. I simply just do not know how to "leave it at the foot of the Cross"

Am I depriving myself of a certain amount of blessings because of this? Is there another way of asking for healing without feeling as though I am ungrateful for asking for it? Perhaps it just stems back to the age-old issue that I struggle with constantly: I do not feel worthy of it! I do not feel as though it is right for me to ask such a huge blessing. And, maybe most of all, I am fearful that if I ask for a healing and I do not receive one that it will feed that sinful thought of me not being worthy.

I was talking with my husband about this a few weeks ago that I truly just don't know how to offer things up nor do I know how to do this whole "leaving it at the Cross" thing. I mentioned that I just don't understand the purpose of it all - the suffering, the frustration, the loneliness. And Bill reminded me of all of the things that I have endured the past 20 years or so and how it all builds on itself. He reminded me that I was blessed to be the birth mother of a baby 20 1/2 years ago that was to be born on my birthday but wasn't. Only to give birth 7 years later to a son that was born on my birthday. It was as if the pain and loneliness from that huge event in 1990 was rewarded with an equally huge event almost exactly 7 years later. God doesn't forget - He uses all of our experiences as part of a Divine plan. We often spend many of our days wishing that we could just get a glimpse into why things happen the way that they do or what will happen in the future as a result. My goodness, the wait is always worth it.

In a few days it will be 5 years that my husband died. At the time, I just could not figure out why this could have happened. I couldn't understand why this was something that MY children had to endure. In 5 years, I don't necessarily understand all the whys and why nots of Bill's death (Bill 1 - as Keagan sometimes calls him) But, I see that I am a better wife now because of the experience of loving and losing a husband in 2007. I see now that because of the suffering we all experienced, we are able to really appreciate the love and peace that we have now with this new man in our lives (Bill 2!!) So many things to be thankful for all because I was able to embrace the cross that God gave me. The cross given to me not because I am not worthy but because I AM worthy...we all are!

Boo on You!

I've entered the real estate market in trying to sell my humble home! Well, it's been on the market for about 2 months now but since I've had only one showing, I consider it newly on the market!! It's been one of the most stressful things I've had to do (I'll get back to you when I have to undertake a 300 mile move with my family away from the only home we've ever known) To try and keep perspective as you look around and see all of your stuff - like family pictures, blankets, toys, reminder notes - as your "stuff" and others see it as clutter and as a distraction to the buying process, is enough to make me a little anxious. I've then had to see my dandelion population quadruple in number two days before my very first open house - lovely!

The thing is, I bought this house as is! I knew that there were rooms that were not my colors and I still bought it; I realized that I really wanted 2 bathrooms, yet, I still bought it; I saw that the carpet was that typical builder's grade (beige!!) and saw the spots and still bought it. I wasn't desperate for a house, I could just see it as a home and not as this structure with all sorts of flaws. I didn't walk in to the kitchen and wonder where the granite countertops and the stainless steel appliances were! I didn't wonder why they never invested $10,000 in getting a half-bath! I certainly didn't walk in and wonder why the heck would ANYONE put pictures of their family on the wall!

So, I'm a day past my first showing of my house and my realtor sends me the feedback from the other realtor. It was so elitist and so snotty! She didn't make mention of any of the positives except that it's in a nice neighborhood (I had nothing to do with that part of the house) I am one that can accept criticism (I know a few that cannot!!) but it was the tone of her message that struck me as mean. To then find out that the realtor came alone (with no client!!) because she had no client for the house. She was a neighbor from two streets over that is also selling her house and, just so happens to be, a realtor. So, she was merely sizing up the competition! I get it, that's the nature of the business - especially in this buyer's market! But, I had to bust my booty to keep the house tidy with 2 toddlers and then my own 3 older kids and a dog! I then had to high-tail it out of the house, smack dab in the middle of homework/snack time because she needed the showing appointment at 3:45 not at 4:45!

BOO ON YOU!

I know...Pray, Hope, and Don't Worry! Repeat: Pray, Hope, and Don't Worry!

Mother's Day

I share this article not because I am in "need" of any kind of acknowledgment but because I do think about how I felt for the longest time that I belonged in the "no-man's-land" of motherhood categories. For 7 years before I was blessed with Murphy, I felt so weird about Mother's Day. I mean, I've always had a mother (and up until about 7 years ago, a grandmother too) so I didn't sit and ponder the day away. But, I did feel a sense of loss on each and every Mother's Day because I had no proof that I was any kind of a mother and it was awkward because I knew that there was a child in the world with my DNA that was calling someone else mother. I say that with a thankful heart for I am sure that he is in wonderful hands with his parents.

I also have a huge place in my heart for those women that for various reasons cannot give birth to children. I pray for the families that open their lives and their hearts to adoption - I cannot imagine my worry if I did not have the choice of a wonderful mother (and father) for my son. So, on Mother's Day, I ask that we all just pause and remember mothers of all kinds - birthmothers, adoptive mothers, and childless mothers (the aunts, cousins, sisters, friends)

May we all turn to Our Lady and ask that she may spiritually adopt all of us!

On Mother's Day, Honor Moms Who Chose Adoption Over Abortion | LifeNews.com

Holy Thursday

...He said to them, "Do you realize what I have done for you?...If I, the Master and Teacher have washed your feet, you ought to wash one another's feet. I have given you a model to follow so that as I have done for you, you should also do." John 13: 1-15


I, particularly, love Holy Thursday Mass. It causes me to stop, think, and wonder what I would have done for Jesus on these important and fateful days. I would like to think that I would never have abandoned Our Lord in His need but don't I do that now? When I "forget" to pray even a simple word or two in a day, aren't I abandoning Him? When I lose my train of thought at Mass and can't recall what the readings were but CAN recall what "Susie Q" was wearing, is this abandonment? I know I'm human (shocking!) but it saddens me when I think of the way that I am prone to ignore Jesus. However, it is Holy Thursday that thrusts me back in to it! I feel renewed in my vow never to abandon Him. I so want to protect Our Savior from the crucifixion while, at the same time, I want to observe and emulate The Blessed Mother and show my obedience and love in God's Divine Plan. I am looking forward to spending time in deep reflection these next few days.

On a side note, I was watching the news this morning (I shouldn't have) and caught the middle of a segment titled, "How Much is Too Much?" Curious, I turned up the volume and watched as 3 high school girls were prom dress shopping. They tallied up their cost and it went something a little like this: $55 for tanning; $150 for jewelry; $200 for hair; $200 for limo; $75 for flowers; $3050 (that's right, $3050.00) for the dress. I just sat there with my mouth wide open! To compare and contrast Our Lord's sacrifice against these 3 families justifying spending close to $4000.00 on prom...there are no words. I realize that the secular world doesn't curtail their lives around Holy Week but I just found this to be gross. I am saddened, sickened, and more determined to remain somewhat prayerful in these next four days of the Triduum.

Official

It's official: I put the forms in the mail for my kids to begin school next year in Ohio! We took a tour of the school over our Spring Break (who needs Florida, right?) and fell in love with the kind teachers, the friendly office staff, and the terrific 8th grade tour guide! I won't speak for Murphy, as his opinions are jaded by the fact that he truly believes that I sought out and decided to marry Bill merely to mess up his life. But, I know it will be a great fit for all of us.

Don't get me wrong, I had to run to Target while I was in Rocky River and I got teary-eyed because of all of the women that were stopping each other in their cute workout gear to chat. I am going to really miss my friends and my family. The other day, I shoved Keagan in his coat and barely batted an eye as he ran down to my sister's house to play. I will miss that! A few days before that, I ran into a girlfriend at the grocery store and we decided to go and have lunch. I will miss that! Last weekend, my mom decided it was time to clean out her garage freezer so she decided to have a "Clean the Freezer" dinner - just like that! I will miss that!

I know...I know what the next response is going to be from you: "You'll meet people when you move" How do you know? Maybe I will be so terrified to leave my house for fear of rejection! Maybe I will be so paralyzed with fear that I will become one of those hoarders that you see on TV! You don't know, it could happen!! No, it won't happen that way because I'm a very good faker. I will pretend as though I've made lots of changes in my life and I will pretend that I have always lived my life as a free-flowing kind of a gal. I will fake the fact that I am scared silly that other mothers might be judging me because I bought my daughter the wrong kind of shoes for the first day of school. I will fake the fact that I am sick to my stomach at the thought that I may have, indeed, ruined Murphy's life by moving him away from all of his great friends and family!

Or, I may just try the honest approach and throw myself out into the world knowing that God will surely love me even if no one else will. I may just stick my neck out there and make friends with people even though they may be well aware that I'm quaking in my boots the entire time. I'm going to have to attempt the old faith approach to life. I have never been failed by God and I'm certain He will not decide to abandon me now! The faith issues, as always, come from my shortcomings but, alas, God loves me and waits patiently for me every time. My/our move to Rocky River will provide just that same opportunity for me to turn to God and I'm going to do that.

I may still fake it though :)

Taize - Veni Sancte Spiritus

My favorite Taize song - probably my favorite Lenten song along with "Jesus, Remember Me"

Every time I hear this song, I feel almost driven to my knees in adoration. Jesus has been so good to me and my family and this song reminds me to daily, constantly invite the Holy Spirit into all of my thoughts, words, and actions.

Fasting

Eucharist on the Tongue

(High altar at St. Stephens Catholic Church in Cleveland, Ohio - amazing, amazing, amazing church)

I know this sounds completely ridiculous but I have NEVER received the Eucharist, at Mass, any other way than in my hand. I'm a girl that made her 1st Communion in 1978 and we were in the swing of Vatican II reform so it wasn't even taught to us nor was it encouraged. I'm not one that tends to take a position on what is the "correct" way to receive the Eucharist. I believe that the intent is way more important than how you do it. I know that many think that it is irreverent to receive something so holy and special like the consecrated Host in your hand and I tend to find some compelling truths to that. I've seen people just willy-nilly walk up to the Eucharistic minister and stick their hand out like they're at a gumball machine. But, I don't know their hearts and their minds. These same people may very well have the purest hearts and the greatest love for Our Lord and why should I judge whether or not it is "valid" that they've just received the Eucharist by hand?

It opens yet more questions that I have...well, maybe concerns that I have. I have witnessed the watering-down of my beloved Catholic Church. Can anyone say the 80s? The sacredness of the Church suffered quite a hit in the 60s, 70s, and 80s. The invention of the birth control pill, Roe v. Wade, the Women's Lib movement, and Vatican II all ushered in an environment, in the Church, of anything goes. We were taught that it was ok to have small families or no families at all - it's our body, after all. I remember a homily when I was in my early teens in which the priest, from the pulpit, gave "us" women permission to take back our lives. We didn't need to feel obligated to be wives and mothers. This is fine and dandy if that's where one finds oneself - some are not able to have children and/or some may not feel the call to be a wife but to say that to be a wife and a mother is akin to some sort of slavery option? Hmmm? I still struggle with the guilt I have that I don't have a real job. It was the culture in which we were formed. To break from that culture is tough.

So, here I sat at my third Latin Mass ever - my first one, I was a bridesmaid at my college roommate's wedding and, the second one, I left after a woman yelled at me because my head wasn't covered - I was having a minor freak-out because I really did not know how to receive the Eucharist on my tongue. I've always done the "hands as a cradle" communion procedure (sounds so sterile) and so I squeezed Bill's arm and revealed to him that I had never done this before today. He, very sweetly, took my hand, kissed it, and led me to the altar railing and reassured me that the priest would know what to do and for me to watch him. Well, I survived and, I must say, I was overcome at the beauty of the whole thing. I was, actually, surprised at how different I felt after Mass. I'm an "on fire for Christ" kind of a gal but, this time, it was amazing how I felt such an element of peace that it overwhelmed me with tears. To celebrate Mass in the Latin tradition was one of the most powerful experiences of my life (even if, most of the time, I didn't even know which part the priest was on) To have shared that experience with the man I am to marry was a gift that I shall be forever grateful!

Just thought that I'd share how enriching it was to attend a Latin Mass with all of its chanting, silence, incense, tradition, etc. I may be a convert to it if there were any churches around here that had Latin Mass. This doesn't mean, however, that I am an anti-Vatican II person. I do think that Vatican II watered down our beautiful traditions. I believe the intent of VII was to make the Mass more relatable to those in the pews and, for that, I am bowled over that I can feel a true part of the miracle. I do feel that, in the process, we've lost the sacredness of the Mass. It's become so ordinary to so many that the mystery seems gone.

I have more thoughts on the matter but, for now, I'll stop and maybe study some Latin so I won't look like such a dork the next time I go to Latin Mass :)

Tears

I had this long story ready to be posted and I've decided not to post it. I attended a funeral today for the father of one of Keagan's kindergarten friends. He was not even 40! I, brazenly, thought that I would go in strong support of the family and they'll see that there is light at the end of the tunnel. Yeah, talk about a fraud. I lost it when I walked up to the church and saw the new widow (horrible word to describe anyone under the age of 70!) and her son. I tried to give them the, "I'll pray for you" and the, "I'm sorry for your loss" and all I got out was, "God bless you all" and then I dissolved into tears. Some pillar of strength I turned out to be!!

I was, however, glad that I went and I was glad that I took Keagan out of class to attend the funeral with me. Funny enough, his presence comforted me more than anything else. He stroked my face and handed me tissues and patted my back - it was as if God crawled into the skin of my 6 year old and held me! What a gift! It was a good thing to relive those feelings of loss perhaps so that I could truly reflect on all that I've found in the last year. It's been so easy to talk about Bill's death as some slide show and to forget that a real part of my life ended 3 1/2 years ago. So, although, it was very painful and very sad, I guess I could be the light at the end of the tunnel. I was there, I was brave enough to face that sadness again all in support of this lovely family. They have a tough road ahead and I will pray for them unceasingly.

After the service was over, I decided that I wanted Keagan home with me. I didn't want him to experience something like that and then go back to being yelled at because he moved or breathed wrong or talked. I wanted to preserve that special part of him for a little while longer! So, I walk into the class room to grab his backpack and ran smack dab into Keagan's teacher (we'll call her frickin' Snow White - the frickin' part must be added though) She knew where we were - that a 6 year old FROM OUR SCHOOL AND IN THE KINDERGARTEN CLASS lost his daddy! She knew, even though she didn't know me or my family, that Keagan, also, had experienced a loss and perhaps he/we would be a tad emotional. Well, then again, maybe she didn't know any of this! She greeted us with her high pitched "kindergarten" voice and asked why was Keagan going home and I gave her a generic response and she responded with, "OK, well have a fun day" Is it Confession-worthy to say that I wanted to pop that clueless, fake, rigid, awful woman in the face??? Well, I'll pencil in my Confession time for tomorrow but as for this evening, boy, I'm really struggling!

I'll leave it at that because I don't want to give her any more energy than I've already lost over her! I am extremely sad for the family that, today, had to say their final goodbyes to their son, their brother, their husband, their father, and their friend. I pray that, in God's mercy, Bill will be there to greet this newest member of the Heavenly choir and that an extra helping of comfort and peace is given to this family. I shall turn my tears, frustration, sadness, and anger over to God in exchange for whatever blessings I can offer them!

This stinks!!

Prayer

I'm reading an amazing book about the life of St. Joseph and it has convicted me on my lack of prayer life. Yes, I pray but it's always a last second Hail Mary thrown out there to make myself feel better for having "prayed". Really? How would I feel if my kids neglected to talk to me or tell me thank you or I love you except 5 seconds before their eyes close for the night? Well, I know I would still adore them but I would long for their attention and their love. How, then, can I not see that the Divine Creator would not want that much from me? Why is it that He deserves my last 5 seconds before sleep? He doesn't!

The grand irony of it all? I feel extreme loneliness! Yes, I, who am surrounded my children all day - needing me, loving me, talking to me, laughing with me - am lonely. I realize that loneliness can be a blessing or an invitation to deeper prayer with Our Lord and I'm going to take it as such. I'm not going to delve into some "poor me" weep-fest because I'm lonely. I truly am going to treat this as my nudge from God that He misses me (golly, it's hard for me to even write that because who am I for Him to miss??) I am bound and determined to give God more than my final 5 seconds of the day! I truly have so much to be thankful for in my life. I have my health, my 3 beautiful kids, my wonderful fiance, my sturdy house, my friends, my family, etc. That, all by itself, is reason enough for me to give pause and shout my thank yous to my Heavenly Father - every.minute.of.the.day!!! But, alas, I don't and then I wonder why I'm lonely - seriously?

It's time for me to turn back to prayer as my primary source of support - in ALL things! I'm trying to plan a wedding for a date that has yet to be determined and move to a house that has yet to be determined with all details, yep, yet to be determined. What's left except persistent prayer? Well, lots of things are left but what makes the most sense is persistent prayer! So, instead of busting my hide to beat my high score in Pyramid Solitaire on Facebook or watch the latest episode of the Office, I am going to spend more time dedicating myself and my family to deeper and more meaningful prayer. At the end of the day, it's really all that matters!

Holy Mother, Holy Child

I read this post on mychocolatehart.blogspot.com and loved it. Her name is Jennifer and she always inspires me with her amazing writing and faithful sharings. Again, with this post, I am blown away!

Enjoy...

Holy Mother, Holy Child, Born of Each Other

An ordinary day had suddenly become the most miraculous day in human history. She was no longer simply Mary, no longer alone in herself. How astonishing is the news the angel has just given her! The God she loves above all else has called her name; called her to come receive the most splendid gift. He chose Mary, and she chose Him. And in an instant the God whom the universe cannot contain was safely tucked inside the darkness of her womb, growing and becoming. Though she could not feel Him yet, He was there. Not just in spirit now, but in her… part of her as He’d never been part of anyone before.

Weeks pass…she looks no different, yet she is the chamber that now protects the Holy One as He grows.

Then one day out of the blue she feels Him! That first exhilarating movement that feels like bubbles… so slight yet unmistakably baby. Mighty God now softly stirs with delicate arms and tiny legs. He formed the vast oceans and filled them with marvelous creatures, and now He floats quietly in the warm, pure sea created only for Him.

Soon He is kicking her, pushing her, and forcefully! He enjoys doing flips in this private pool; His ears now hear the sound of her voice, and He is quickly taking up more and more space in her body. He has always occupied her heart, and now she looks down at her round belly, places her hand over the spot where He kicks, and marvels at how He has taken her over. She eagerly awaits the moment when she can kiss His tiny face, count tiny fingers and toes, and hold Him close to her heart…the heart He captured long ago.

Finally, the appointed hour comes, and He who gives life to every man and creature now waits for His own birth. I AM the LIFE waits for His first breath. She must deliver her Redeemer. And suddenly, there He is in her arms! Eternity was cradled sleeping in her lap.



The mighty, sovereign Lord she bowed before was now wearing the skin of her own flesh and nursing at her breast! To be twice overcome with fierce and tender love; once as a mother for her child, and again as a servant daughter of her Savior.

What exquisite joy and affection she must have felt to smell the sweetness of His head, feel the softness of His new baby skin (all parents know there’s nothing better than baby skin), hear His baby sighs and snores, and snuggle His warm little body against her own in sleep. Heaven on earth – literally – and every moment was hers to savor. How indescribably sweet! No mother has ever known greater joy, nor ever will.

Yet she who was blessed with such an unspeakable gift also bore the greatest sorrow of any mother on earth. She gave Him life, raised Him, taught Him, tended Him, and adored Him only to suffer with Him the cruel death that would bring us Life.



By His Incarnation a holy mother was born. And as though the blood He shed on the cross wasn’t gift enough, in His magnanimity He gave to us heaven’s most fragrant rose.

Now the Mother of the Savior is our mother, and how blessed we are to have the guiding light of her obedience and humility to illumine our lives and show us the way of faithfulness.

Come quickly, Lord Jesus, and do not delay! Blessed Mother, give us your heart so beautiful, so pure, so immaculate, so full of love and humility that we might receive Jesus and love Him and you loved Him!

Seriously?

Honestly, I don't know that I deserve to be a mother. There are times, like today, that I cannot believe the unreasonable and mean things that come out of my mouth! I know there is something that takes over and then I spend the rest of the day or week or month replaying the scenario in my head only to come to the conclusion that my kids might be better off without me. Especially my daughter. She's so unbelievably special and kind-hearted and sweet and helpful and patient and tender and, yet, I seem to reserve my anger for her because I look at her as everything I should be and I'm not! Yeah, that's certainly sick - I know! I see her look at me with the greatest love even though I'm yelling at her for not hanging her clothes on a hanger. I know that there is nothing wrong with correcting her when she needs it but for not hanging up her clothes? All she'd have to do is take a gander at her mother's room and see I don't even like to do it! Yet, I continue like some sort of delusional idiot until I feel some sort of sick satisfaction over the whole thing. But, what I think is sick satisfaction is not satisfaction at all...it is a humongous sense of remorse and shame.

I'm all these kids have in the way of a parent and I get caught up in the whole concept of what it means for me. It is a huge amount of pressure, yes, but it could also be a huge opportunity to be a rock star! Not in the "I want my kids to be my friends" kind of a way but more like as an example of Christian living. I'm all but sure that the example I gave my daughter this morning looked nothing like a shining example of anything but cruelty! Why? Because she didn't hang up her clothes and her toys were not put away nicely? And that means what? It means more work for me? Oh brother! That second cup of milk that Keagan wants at lunch time irritates me why? Because it means I'd have to stuff away my own selfish want to sit and eat my own lunch? Holy cow, get over it!

This all happens smack dab in the middle of Christmas time. A time of waiting until we celebrate the glorious gift of Jesus' birth. I've been reading a lot about the journey of the Holy Family and what Joseph must have endured. I wonder if he went nuts over clothes not being hung up in the closets? He was probably a little more concerned about finding shelter for the Savior and the Blessed Mother but let's not split hairs, right? UGH!

Yeah, I'm Talking to You!

Because I'm lazy and just haven't been too inspired to write much, I took this from another blog and I am reposting it!


The next time you feel like GOD can't use YOU, just remember...

Noah was a drunk
Abraham was too old
Isaac was a daydreamer
Jacob was a liar
Leah was ugly
Joseph was abused
Moses had a stuttering problem
Gideon was afraid
Sampson had long hair and was a womanizer
Rahab was a prostitute
Jeremiah and Timothy were too young
David had an affair and was a murderer
Elijah was suicidal
Isaiah preached naked
Jonah ran from God
Naomi was a widow
Job went bankrupt
John the Baptist ate bugs
Peter denied Christ
The Disciples fell asleep while praying
Martha worried about everything
The Samaritan woman was divorced, more than once
Zaccheus was too small
Paul was too religious
Timothy had an ulcer...
AND Lazarus was dead!

No Apologies

I need to vent! I'm tired of people lecturing me that it is not appropriate to sing/celebrate/decorate for Christmas until the official start of Advent. Yes, Advent began so do I have permission to allow my kids to sing Jingle Bells in kindergarten? Really? He gets a check by his name for singing a Christmas song before Thanksgiving was over? R.E.A.L.L.Y? I'm tired of hearing the lecture from many people when I mentioned that I loved that Christmas music was playing on the radio long before Thanksgiving was even here!! I'm sick of the scrooges that complain about hating Christmas because they have no money for presents. These are the same ding-dongs that lecture me on how the early playing and the early decorating for Christmas commercializes Christmas. Umm...what?

I know the reason for the season and have people thought that this is just the reason that I hold Christmas so dear? I love that things are getting chilly outside because it "forces" us inside to be still and together as a family. I love the Christmas music - not necessarily "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus" but I love "Away in a Manger" and "Silent Night" and "The Little Drummer Boy" and "O Come All Ye Faithful" and...

Why do I feel the need to defend my love of Christmas? I love that it is a time to stop and remember Jesus during these long and quiet days and nights. I love this time of year where I can stop all of the pettiness (and I do!) and focus on the exact thing I'd like to purchase my sisters or my sons or my daughter to show them how much I love them. This gift may be a little something or a big something but the intent is the same. I take the sentiments that I feel from my relationship with my Heavenly Father and I try to translate it to my loved ones. It isn't in the gift itself, it's just in the act of thinking about the particular loved one that brings me the greatest joy.

So, please don't give me any more grief for longing for snow while being tired of the drizzly rain that keeps us all depressed and wet (IN NOVEMBER) Don't give me grief for welcoming Christmas and all of its joy and blessings and togetherness. Don't give me grief for wanting to find a world that is Christmas 24/7 not because of the materialistic aspects of this particular day but because I want to hold tight the sacredness and the warmth of this awesome day in which our Savior was given to the world through our amazing Mother!

Perhaps, the rest of the world needs to embrace Christmas as part of their everyday lives instead of finding some reason to hate it all. As for me, I'll be the one with glistening tears in her eyes because of the amount of love that is bubbling within her heart. Yeah, I'm that cheesy about Christmas!

Take Care of One Another

Rocky River

I'm ready to move! I'm ready to begin my life in a new city with the man that I shall call my husband (if THAT ever happens) I've really struggled trying to make these statements feel real in my heart and they are beginning to take root. Worrying about furniture placement, schools, leaving family and friends, and the like all pale in comparison to how much I love Bill. I'd truly be willing to follow him anywhere (don't tell him that as he'd like to move somewhere off the grid and I don't do "off the grid")

For me, this is all a matter of trust. I need to trust that Bill will not abandon me in a new city for long periods at a time with only our house and my kids to keep me company. I've been down that road before and it, quite literally, almost killed me. So, I'm trying desperately to trust that this will be new and not a repeat of things in the past. I need to trust that I will make a new life for our family in the beautiful city of Rocky River and that it won't be left to just me and the kids vs. the big, bad, unknown town. I've been down that road as well and I am terrified of where it led me/us.

I just need to trust. It is required for the health and well-being of my children, my future husband, and myself for me to trust.

I trust...I trust...I trust...

Can't See the Forest for the Trees

Definition: overly concerned with detail; not understanding the whole situation

Explanation: Used when expressing that a person is focusing too much on specific problems and is missing the point

Examples: I'm afraid you can't see the forest for the trees. - She often can't see the forest for the trees and needs to have the most relevant points explained to her.

I'm stressing out, folks! I am overwhelmed with all that has been put in my lap. I'm struggling to figure out how to get my minor house repairs completed (and how to pay for them), how to find the time to sell my house (and keep it show-worthy clean), how to find the right school for my kids (in a city that I know nothing about), how to get my fiance motivated to fix the major things wrong with his house (in a city that I know nothing about), how to find the time to meet with my priest in order to do our pre-marital counseling (with a fiance that lives 3 1/2 hours away), how to de-clutter a house that has 3 kids that currently live in it (with 2 other little kids that are here 2-3 times a week), how to figure out 2 History Day projects with 2 totally different personality-wise kids (I'll let you figure out which one has been easier), how to complete the flip-flappin' PE homework (don't get me started on the insane, ridiculous, time-wasting, stupid assignment...I mean it, don't get me started), how to fit 2 household's furniture into 1 house (in a city...yep, you know the rest)

So, as I began typing this little tirade (or big?) the image of a forest sprung to my mind. Am I too focused on the details of getting married and less focused on the fact that I am about to marry the most amazing, spiritual, smart, handsome, talented, sensitive man on the planet? Yes, on the planet! I've been so blessed to have him come into my life. I stress because he's not here! I want to spend every waking (and non-waking) moment with him and I can't! I hate that we live 3 1/2 hours away and so a quick "drop-in" just isn't possible.

I am trying to focus on the bigger picture, I really am. But, it's all those darn little issues that are in the way so all I see is this big, thick forest and I cannot, for the life of me, see one solitary tree! At this point, I know, I should turn to prayer. I have turned to my Rosary, my Bible, my devotionals, my crazy little chats with God but not nearly enough. Naturally, I wait until I cannot see straight because of the forest and then I cry out to God to help me find my way. I know it's a natural and human thing but why can't I just GO.DIRECTLY.TO.GOD.FIRST? Argh!!!

Forgive me, Father...Again!

Beautiful by MercyMe

Not the Same

I've decided not to post the few things that I had written. I feel it's best as a conversation between God and me. The subjects were marriage, submission, obedience, and guidance. Since we all have a different reality, I felt as though it would have been perceived as judgmental for me to "force" my idea of marriage and the rest on anyone else. It wasn't written to be judgmental because it was truely my own path but it really is best that it just be a chit-chat with My Father and me!

Now, everyone can go back to their lives! I know that the curiosity was just eating you all alive!!!!!!!

I do want to share with you a blog post from an amazing woman that has chosen to stay single and be married to God (but different than an ordained religious). She spends her life going where God calls her and this time she is in Tanzania working at an orphanage. Her posts are always so heartfelt and full of discipline and obedience, but, mostly, they are full of love. It's as though the Lord talks to me through her. When I look around at piles of clothes and layers of dust and start to feel like a failure, I read her posts and I stop to be thankful that my children are tucked away after having been loved and kissed and hugged and bathed. So many children don't have that and Mary is there with just her 2 hands loving on so many babies and toddlers. Amazing!


A Day in the Life in the Orphanage

A day in the life….
This is my normal daily routine in the mornings here at the orphanage in Moshi (Tanzania):

4:30-4:45am –I wake up before the alarm goes off at 5am. I usually pray a Chaplet and then really ‘get up’ at 5am. After a trip to the bathroom and taking my malaria pills, I begin morning prayer in my room.

6:00am –I begin to get ready for the day.

6:30am –Holy Mass begins

7:00am –breakfast consisting of coffee and bread and butter (or with a little ‘jam’ for those who want –the ingredients on the jar of jam says: ‘mixed fruit jam.’ What’s in it? )

7:45am –I finish eating breakfast and I return to my room to get what I need for the morning. I hear the babies crying and so I try to hurry.

8:00am –It is raining today, so the children are inside the ‘play room’ instead of outside. I go to check on the older ones. I open the door and they all come running –biting and hitting each other to be the first one close. I try to correct them as I can. My Swahili is coming along –slowly, although I should try to be patient with myself, since I’ve only been here a week. I hug and kiss and bless each one. One wants a book read, another wants me to sing and he begins to clap, a third is hording the blocks in the corner and takes advantage of the chaos to steal a few more pieces from the hands of the younger ones –more crying ensues. I wipe tears. So many tears. I’ve never seen so many tears as I have here. Sometimes I feel like my entire existence is simply to be Jesus’ little rag wiping their tears. I try to greet and engage each child with something to play, giving a bit more attention to those who are especially craving it this morning. The floor is wet with urine –the students ‘mop’ it up as they can, but all it looks to me like they do is spread it everywhere. Those toys are now wet. I wish the children would be organized better here. I see one child hit another to steal his toy, but I cannot interfere because five others are clinging so close to my legs that I cannot walk. I call the ‘victim’ over to comfort him and then I simply close my eyes and pray. After 30 minutes I must go –my babies are still crying and I know they are all wet and will be hungry soon. If only the students would love and care for them as real mothers –but really how can I expect that of them –they are young and doing the best as they know how. But my heart aches from all the cries and tears. Jesus, send the angels again today to love and reach where my hands simply cannot.


8:30 am –I enter the baby room. The babies stop crying for a moment or two to smile at me. I begin to sing our songs and some clap, others ‘dance’ by shaking their hands and heads or jumping up and down. Most are dry this morning (or at least their rubber pants are doing the job). One gets an idea –he starts to cry to get my attention. I go to him to kiss his forehead and another realizes what has happened –he tries to cry too. I go over and speak to him. Suddenly the room is a chorus of cries once more. All my fault –cries caused by my love. It is true that when you ignore the babies they don’t cry so much and become content –but they also close off emotionally. I can’t do that. I simply make sure that each is loved. I pick up Fredrick –he gets to be my ‘favorite’ for a while this morning. He’s been so sick with malaria and I have to give priority to those who feel the worst. Its amazing how jealous even little ones a few months old can become when they see another child held or smiled at –I try to spread the love. I begin to change them in turn –along with their sheets. When the students come in to help, I leave them to the work as I hear the two littlest ones screeching in the next room. As the older children are changed, they are laid on a blanket spread out on the floor to play. James follows me to the door of the newborn room, crying for me to pick him up –but I already changed and loved him, and I know that little Brian and Miriam have been crying. I have to leave him, but the 20 minutes I am gone he sits inconsolable by the door crying his soul out and banging on the door. Once the two are changed I take the two little ones out with me to the big room and sit on a child’s chair (I cannot sit on the floor with the babies because 1-year-old Jonah thinks it is funny to ‘poke’ them) so that at least James can stand with his head on my lap to cry. It does the trick and he stops and begins to play around me. And the rest of the babies notice –they all crawl over to me and soon there is a baby brawl for my attention. All of them who can crawl and pull themselves up (about 6 of them) are fighting for my lap. I try to make room for them all somehow while holding the two newborns. Where did the student helpers go? Maybe the babies are crying, but at least they are close to me and I can sing. I remembered something my spiritual father told me once –‘You can’t take the cross from all people, but you can climb on it and just be with them in Love while they are there’. That is what I did this morning with my babies –at least I was with them. Finally about 25 minutes a sister comes in by chance –she laughs at me surrounded by a chorus of so many babies grappling for my love and she helps me rearrange them and find something to make them happy. I take the opportunity to get up and put the little ones down –one of the three-month-olds is screaming in his crib. He has spit up and is laying on his tummy on sheets wet from both his diaper and his mouth. As I go to change his clothes he smiles as if to say ‘thank you,’ but James (angry that I moved from my chair close to him) is following at my feet screaming for me to pick him up. I have to love the neediest –I cannot always care for the same one –they all deserve to be dry, to be fed, to be hugged, to be smiled at –but I do try to give extra love to those who are begging. The little ones start to wail again as the students bring in the food for the others. I go to re-arrange the little ones and come out to 5 screaming babies again. The students go about their work, feeding the one in front of them –but they are all hungry and crying. So although I can only feed one, I try to console and love them all in some way. I take James to feed and I struggle to calm him down enough to eat. Although he stops wailing, tears are still streaming down his cheeks and they fall into the cup of tea I try to give him to drink. I think of Scripture where it says ‘their tears are mixed with their food day and night.’ While I feed him, I pull the other 5 over to lean on my lap and cry as I work –Miriam cries again. I go to bring her and as I hold her with my left hand, feeding James with my right and comforting Janet, Jonas, Joyce, Irene and Omary with my hand between spoonfuls. I begin to sing and say, ‘sh, sh, sh’ to Fredrick and Ester yelling in the corner. They stop when they hears my voice and Ester smiles. What a gift to my heart aching to console them all. I notice that the ones crying have very runny noses. But I have nothing to wipe them but my skirt –so 1,2,3,4,5 –all in my apron. There is no way I could stand up to get a cloth with them all on top of me like this. Its times like these having a clone or two would be very helpful. Jonas walks away from me, leaving me a bit more free to feed James –but he goes right for the dirty diapers again. He’s got that ‘trouble antenna’ and always finds things to do that he shouldn’t. He really should be out with the toddlers (especially since he steals the little babies’ toys), but they were waiting for his twin sister to become more steady on her feet. They like to move twins together –but he really needs to leave and she still needs ‘baby love.’ While all this is going on, suddenly the toddlers outside the window see me –they all somehow know that I love them, so they prefer me to others. Three of the two-year-olds come running to the window to knock and yell to me. I try to give them attention amongst doing all the rest.

11:20 –Finally all the children are fed and they should go down for naps. A few are complaining, but I know they are dry, fed and have each been held and loved by me this morning. As I go to leave to take my break I hear Brian crying again. That baby really can’t stand to be wet –which is hard because with cloth diapers and no rubber pants, you constantly need to keep changing him. I change him and see he is hungry. I ‘cheat’ –they are supposed to be on a strict schedule, but he is so little and he kept falling asleep eating in the morning. I take his unfinished bottle and let him quickly eat so that at least I can lay him down half-contented so that I can change Miriam again.

11:50 -It is quiet for a moment and I try again to run out the door before someone cries or sees me. Its one thing when I leave my nieces and nephews (even if they are crying) I know that their mothers will comfort them. But it is so hard when I have to rip someone from me crying and the students aren’t as comforting as a mother –but I simply cannot spend 24/7 with the same child. Every morning when 2 ½ year-old Noela (she was born on Christmas) sees me she runs to cling to me. She never speaks –I’ve never heard her open her mouth –but when I have to leave to go to the babies she cries as her heart is broken. I am very happy that she has been chosen for adoption soon. That little girl really needs love! I try to love powerfully enough in the short time I am there to fill their hearts ‘enough’ –its my little 5 loaves and 3 fish –Jesus will have to multiply and make it ‘enough’ for their hearts’ needs. I hope my prayer and His Love can fill in where my bodily presence is insufficient. And I pray that my example can transform the way the other ‘mamas’ and students interact with the children. I have already noticed a change, so it gives me hope. They change their wet diapers and clothes more often, sing to them more often, smile more often. Can little ol’ me change a Tanzanian orphanage in 4 short weeks? It is my goal –to fill them with Jesus’ Love –so that when I leave His Love can continue to bear fruit. But in order to do this, I have to have time with Him in prayer. It is His Love I must share with them. Not my own –for mine could never heal hearts, change minds, lift spirits as His can. Lord, give me the strength and time to pray more in the midst of this. I can usually never leave until I know that no one is crying –and then I run out quickly because if I hear a cry I have to come back in to fix their need. I guess it’s the heart of a mother –it seems selfish to me to go and drink tea or pray if I leave a baby crying and wet or lonely. I am the only mom they have. I have to give my all. But I also have to spend some time with Jesus –I have to have His Love in order to give His Love. And the needs of these children are so great that simply human love is not enough –they need Divine Love. They have been so rejected, abandoned and wounded by these experiences. Oh Mary, be their Mother. Joseph, stand watch over their cribs at night. Angels, sing to them for me. I can’t believe it is only 12noon.

Lunch is at 12:15 –lunch and dinner here are almost the exact same every day some combination of the following: plain rice, potatoes or pasta; ‘green vegatables’ (a form of spinach mixture); a form of beans; and sometimes tomatoes or cucumbers. Once or twice a week they have a meet sauce. Usually they have fruit on the table for one meal –either a banana, orange, passion fruit, watermelon or ‘oxen heart’ (I’ve never heard of it or seen it before, but it is sweet and good).

1:00pm –I head back to my room for a few minutes before I go over to the babies again. Between 1:15-2:00 I am back with the children.
After lunch we repeat the morning again for the afternoon –hopefully I can take 5 of the babies out for a walk in the sunshine –that usually helps their moods. I wrap one on me, squish a few in a stroller and let the ones who can walk hold on to the stroller. This afternoon the German sister could not stay with me, but the babies were all crying to go outside. She left me with one wrapped on me, four doubled up in strollers, another in my hands and two toddling around. Then the little boys saw me out the windows as they were getting dressed (a wedding party was coming to visit and bring gifts), so they grabbed their shoes and I found myself surrounded by 5 more little boys wanting help with their shoes and hugs for their hearts. The only way I can reach all of them is to entertain and love the by singing. Little Polycarp (who is not little at all) is jealous for my lap –which makes me happy because he was abandoned, no one chooses him for adoption, he does not speak and since he was a little baby he cries all the time. He is one of my special projects here. But this afternoon he doesn’t understand that he can’t get closer to me than where he is already on my lap –so he keeps pushing against me to get closer and closer. After 45 minutes I’m happy when the students appear again. That was a lot of work (8 babies and 5 toddler boys) for one set of eyes, hands and heart. By 4pm I will have to try to head back to my room to handwash some clothes –a daily chore –and at least wipe-down a little before prayer. I am so dirty everyday –what I would give for a real shower and washing machine! But once again today I don’t get out until 5pm –Miriam was screaming and I won’t leave a screaming baby. When the ‘mama’ finally comes in with her bottle (and I rejoice that I can be free to go) my heart sinks as she brings two chairs with her and says, ‘You do Miriam, and I’ll do Brian.’ I guess it is only fair that they both eat at once. So once she is fed, changed again for the night and comfortable, I tiptoe out so that the others don’t see me.

5:30-6pm -I head to the chapel for evening prayers.
Dinner at 7pm.
Back to my room by 8pm to finish laundry, ‘shower’ with my bucket of water, pray, etc. and hopefully find myself in bed before 9:30. Just a bit of my life here.
Fiat. +