Waiting For The Truth

Anticipation is making itself known in my life right now in many ways. This time of year has this effect on most people, for one reason or another. When I was young, I spent weeks excited about getting to open presents. My sister and I even slept under the Christmas tree the week leading up to Christmas just to have fun chattering under the twinkling lights well into the wee hours of the morning. Now, for me, this time of year is special in a different way. I get to watch my children and my nephews experience the magic of this time of year. I recently read an article comparing Advent (this season that the Church anticipates the birth of Our Lord) to those last, miserable weeks of pregnancy, and because I was in those shoes a mere 2 months ago, I remember vividly the absolute discomfort and dare I say it "hatred" of one's condition during that time. Yes, the miracle of new life is beautiful, but it comes with great cost to the mother. The author of this article was talking about how her nervousness about delivering her child subsided as her discomfort with her gravid state increased. It was an "I'll take anything but this" sort of attitude; a "gut me like a fish, and it will still be better than what I am feeling right now" sort of attitude. To those mommies who LOVED being pregnant until the last day and can't relate to this, bless you. I still don't think you are human, but bless you.

To me, this was the perfect way to illustrate how we as a race are doomed to experience life without the saving grace of Our Lord.

In order to be saved from ourselves, we must first become so sick and tired of the mess that we have made of things, the hopelessness of our condition, that we can no longer bear it. Our culture today teaches us to love ourselves and to celebrate our imperfections. While I do think that it is healthy to love yourself and not let other's opinions of you chip away at your self esteem, I also think that this attitude is so detrimental to a person of faith. There is a reason that we feel dissatisfied with parts of our lives. Christ is saying "You are not perfect, but I have come to make you perfect." Instead of hedonistically celebrating these imperfections (which are many times sins) to create a mask for ourselves which appears happy, but really isn't, we should be striving to hand those confusing/embarrassing/hurtful parts of our lives over to Christ so that He can show us His redemption, and that we can learn how to be truly joyful in Him.

This is LOVE.  Not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. 1 John 4:10

How do we love each other?

We mirror the actions that Christ showed to us, to others. We don't celebrate when we see them sinning or pat them on the back. It isn't love to show support to someone who is straying from our Creator. It is love to speak the truth to them (in kindness, of course).

We all have to be reminded from time to time that as much as good as we can get at rationalizing things, it is not the standards that we have set for ourselves that lead us to salvation. Christ came to save those who were lost, but how does that work if no one actually realizes that they are lost?

We all must seek the Truth, not only during this Advent Season, but throughout all the year. As families, as faith communities, and as friends, we must spur each other on to seek the fullness of Christ's truth and to proclaim it loudly in our actions and words.

Merry Christmas!

I NEED A Drink!

I am in a very dry place right now. And no, I'm not referring to the fact that I'm 33 weeks pregnant in the Summer in Oklahoma.

Lately, I have been struggling to find either the desire or energy to really seek God in my daily life. I even recognize that my mind is struggling to find distractions during the day so that I purposefully don't find the time to sit down and pray, and it's just downright annoying. It's obvious that there is nothing in this world that comes close to filling that God-shaped hole in us, besides, well, God.

 I used to feel guilty when I would have dry spells like this. I would think " I have failed, yet again. I'm obviously not holy enough of a person to deserve the consistently close and awesome communion with God that I see others have. " Um, can you say prideful? To think that something I did or though or said would affect the Creator of the Universe's plans for His shaping of our relationship? On these days, I find myself longing for something deep, and luscious, and fulfilling, yet, I end up settling for a hurried "Our Father" before I fall asleep at night. I don't view this prayer as a magic fix all, but rather it is a very poor attempt to let God know that I am not walking around in vain, forgetting about Him. I am almost so ashamed that I cannot produce anything more than a 3 year old might say in his daily prayers that I almost don't want to try, so as not to subject myself to humiliation. But prayer isn't about me, is it? Is it possible that God has removed that consolation that we many times receive from prayer so as to encourage me to dig deeper into Him, His word? If you think about it, what is better than the feeling you get after you pour out your soul to God? You are at peace, you are on top of the world, you see solutions to problems that you previously hadn't seen. It's hard to describe, but it's a great place to be. So what happens when God doesn't allow you to feel that? If God is trying to shape and mold us into His image, it makes sense that He would use those sensory moments that are so powerful to us as humans to get our attention. He may use pleasure or pain to grab our attention in various ways. So to remove such a consolation as the one that we normally receive when we draw close to Him in order to cause us to walk a little further down the path, even closer to our source, is a rather flattering thought, is it not? Even if we are willing to settle for what has been working for us, He is not. He wants more. He realizes our potential, even if we do not. He desires more of us.

So how does one handle this feeling of rejection? To our human senses, it may seem as if God is eluding us, and with that sense of feeling alone, and maybe God not answering the door bell after the first ring, what does one do? What does a selfish, impatient girl like me do? The very selfish thing would be to just give up and wait until a big life event forces me to seek God's strength again. That is exactly what I used to do, though, and what I am trying to work through now, so as to learn a better way to deal with this.


I started re-reading Romans today. Since I recently traveled to Rome, I am hoping to be able to read Paul's words to the Christians there with different eyes. I visited a church there and saw the very chains he wore while writing some of his letters. (Picture below)
It helps to remind yourself that these heroes of our faith were that for a reason; they were real people, that traveled to real places, preaching a very real message. This message lives on very powerfully today through the body of Christ (the Church) and the actual Body and Blood of Christ (the Eucharist).

St. Paul's shackles (top box) and sarcophagus (below, behind grating)

I find myself feeling ashamed many times because I stop and think "How am I REALLY identifying myself as a Christian?" and it's hard for me to answer.

As a stay at home mom, I have really struggled with this issue, because I don't come into contact with many people other than my children during the course of my day. I struggle with knowing whether or not I should be adding "Purposefully seek out the poor and needy during the course of my day" to my already overwhelmingly long daily list of things to do, or if I should just be tending to those that I encounter when I happen to be leaving Target and see a man holding a sign asking for money, and making sure that I am raising my children in the faith.

I have always been told "Bloom where you are planted", but I wonder if that is enough? If I have been "planted" in my house for a couple of years, raising children, that doesn't just give me a magic pass to not fulfill my Christian duties outside of the home anymore.  No, I'm not trying to prove to God that I am good enough for Him, but I'm really just trying to evaluate if I'm doing my job, man.

John 13:34-35 says "A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another, even as I have loved you, that you also love one another.35"By this all men will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another."

So loving one another is key. Not just tolerating each other. And when those thoughts try to sneak in and taint your views of each other, making someone seem annoying or less meaningful to you, that's a problem. Satan likes to erect invisible barriers between us, not that we all walk around having major issues with each other, but so that we THINK we all have issues among us, and this prevents us from working together as a unit. 

I also think that it is essential to be prepared. By this I mean, have cash or gift cards on hand as ofter as possible. How easy is it to say "I can't help that homeless guy because I don't carry cash" Oh well. 

That isn't necessarily right, is it? Just because it isn't our habit to carry cash doesn't mean we can pull some out of the ATM and have it for just those moments, because lets fact it, needy people are everywhere. And you just might notice them more if you have the tools to help them. 

So I am being told by my children's crying that they are ready to do something fun and get out of the house, so thats all I can muster for today, but I hope it gives someone besides me a little food for thought. 

Tavi

Have You Ever Been Afraid Of Something Good?

Today is very rainy, which is great for my back yard. However, it may not be the best choice of weather considering my temperament today. Rain means staying inside, which I do a lot of already. Many days with fairer weather find me inside, but I at least appreciate having the option to take the kiddies outside if I so choose, and when that option is taken off the table, most times I am at a loss as to what to do to entertain my children. Silly, I know.  I am finding myself with some time alone this morning, as the kids quietly watch Sesame Street and, of course, my mind has decided to take the least productive route as a start to my morning. I could and should pray, dedicating this rainy day to God. But guess what? My thoughts are scattered and I'm finding that the only way to bring order to them is to write.

22 days and counting. The end of residency. What we have been working towards as a couple and family for over 7 years. It is exciting! But now I'm starting to wonder about the new job- what if Michael hates it, or the schedule is super unmanageable, but there's no turning back now?

Will I be a strong enough mom to handle not just managing a family when my partner is out of the picture essentially every other week, but creating a family that thrives?

 Yes, I have managed a lot on my own up to this point, but my perspective has always been that of a resident's wife. Just make it to the next rotation. Just keep swimming. This will be over in 3, 2, 1, years....
We have been in survival mode for the past 3 years, so it has never bothered me, for example, when we had to go to church separately at different times of the day, leaving the kids at home, to work around his sleep schedule, or we had to watch cartoons all day on a snow day because daddy is sleeping and we can't wake him up. It makes me feel so inferior watching all the uber-productive moms who do structured activities with their children on a weekly or (gasp) daily basis, when our schedule is so haphazardly based on when dad is or isn't home that my kids could go a week (more when they were younger) without doing anything that I would label interesting or productive.

I know it sounds silly, because I certainly could take my children on outings without Michael, I know. Let me be honest with you though. Being on call, and working unpredictable hours takes a huge chunk of "normalcy" away from our family. When Michael is on call, he many times will leave the house before 6 in the morning, stay at the hospital until 7 the next morning, then come home and sleep until 2 because he got little or no sleep the night before. It's better now, but back when he started residency, he would be on call 3-5 times a month. Plus working roughly 80 hour work weeks. Every week. So to say that his work hours affected only him would be silly and extremely misinformed.  I missed him. Our kids missed him. I had HUGE chunks of empty time to fill, but leaving the house with 2 babies was not an option very often. I had friends, but they all worked during the day, and I had not yet begun to establish my circle of stay-at-home mommy friends who have become so essential to keeping me sane, and I them.

 All of  this was happening during a time when I was trying to figure out how to be a successful stay at home mom/wife while raising a toddler and nursing a newborn. I needed a partner more that ever at that time, and I didn't have one. I can truthfully say that now that my kids are 3 and 2, I feel comfortable taking solo outings with them, but I haven't until this point.  So I had roughly 3 years of never being able to plan ANYTHING more than 4 weeks in advance because we never knew what Michael's schedule would be the following month, and 3 years of not being able to leave the house and do many things that kicked my adult brain into gear.

 There was a point last year where I thought I was struggling with agoraphobia, which made no sense, because I had never once struggled with anything like that. Looking back, I know there was nothing wrong with me. I was tired. I was responsible for EVERY feeding for our youngest (day and night) because he wouldn't take a bottle. (I breastfed him for a YEAR by the way!) Getting out of the house required more energy than I had at that time, and that's OK.

I went 2 years with not having close friends who I could relate to, vent to, and just go get a darn pedicure with when I wanted to! But through that emptiness, God led me to His beautiful Catholic Church, blessed me with many beautiful times of  strong prayer and Eucharistic Adoration, and He has healed me through confession.

This last year God has filled my cup to overflowing with friends, and I am so thankful for the people that He has placed in my life. I am truly reminded of how we are to be a support system for each other, never a gossipy, mom-competition-y group. Yuck!
I love the supportive women in my life and pray God's blessing for them often and hope they do the same for me.

 Our kids are still very young so I don't feel as if they will remember this time in our life, but I want to document it for them. I want them to know all the blood, sweat, and many many tears that went into daddy becoming a doctor. I want them to be very proud of him, but also I want them to see how Michael and I had to dig deeper into our faith and cling tightly to the promises of Christ to maintain a marriage and raise them during those empty times.

 However, when I think about the fact that now, because we want to raise our children to love and appreciate Christ's church (this includes honoring the Sabbath and attending church every week), there will be more times than not that I will be THE parent to take our children to church, and make family dinners, and make normal family life continue, even though dad is having to work, I feel scared. I feel blessed to moving closer to family, and I think that they will play a large part in helping me during those weeks. But I still wonder, "Will I be able to pull it off?"

I shouldn't wonder these things. If I have learned anything, it is that God has made a way through things I never imagined I would have to face, and I know that He always will. But there is something about verbalizing those fears that we have. It helps put a face to them, a face that we can look at and learn how to defeat. I'm not complaining, I'm just formulating my game plan.

So I choose to give those fears up to you, God. I don't want them, need them, have time for them. I am ready to take this next step with my family, and I know you are watching over us and holding us near your heart every step of the way. As I type this and feel the kicks of this tiny little guy growing in my belly, I feel very blessed today. I don't know what the future holds, but I feel so much more prepared for this next stage than I was for the last one.
So I'm offering up this soul-baring blog as my morning prayer today, and as always, I thank God for another day to be able to wake and try, try again!

Tavi

In or Out? Praying In Modern Society

Prayer has meant many things for me at different times in my life.

As a child, it was my way of beginning to understand how to establish a relationship with our Lord, and let's face it, it's pretty fun to get to pray for Nana and Papa and ALL the stuffed animals by name every night.
As I grew, I would like to think that my understanding of prayer grew, but now that I am way, WAY older than that teenage version of myself (thank goodness!), I can see that I wasn't so advanced and spiritual as I thought. Yes, the things that I prayed for changed. Many times I wasn't even praying for something, but simply crying out and expressing my teenage angst to Him, (and believe me, I had PLENTY) because no one else understood. Pretty soon, that teenage angst turned into 20-something angst, and couldn't really even be considered angst anymore; it had just reached the point of plain old confusing bitterness for unspoken words, for things I thought people should have done differently. You know. THAT junk. That was still prayer, and very therapeutic for me, but how much was I glorifying God through my prayers? If I had to guess, I would say not very much.

Well, I have had a new realization, and I am starting to view prayer differently, yet again. We live in a very "spiritual" society, which, frankly, drives me nuts. I hear a lot of, " I don't need to go to church, I'm spiritual on my own". We are all spiritual beings. The most hardened killer on the face of the planet is a spiritual being. It is how we cultivate and use our spirits that matters.

 I used to base my prayer life on how I felt. Do I feel the Holy Spirit moving in me to pray something in particular today? That strategy is great if you live in a spa where some one cooks you 3 square meals a day and gives you Swedish massages every couple of hours.

  Now that I have more going on in my life than I can even detail here, and I'm tired not just once a week but every day, I am starting to realize that prayer isn't a feeling of gratitude. Or sorrow. Or loneliness. Because some most days I am too tired to feel any of those things, and I'm in danger of not even praying at all because I'm exhausted. I have realized that, all along, prayer should have been a discipline, because prayer is just as much if not more for God than it is for me. I need to express my need for Him and my gratitude for Him everyday. I need to be able to really pour out my needs and the needs of those around me everyday. It pleases and honors Him, and it edifies me, and, many times, gives me the push that I need to get off the couch and actively be an instrument in someone's life, when really, I would just rather sleep.

Now I wish I could say that I had this down to a science. Somedays I say a prayer, and some days I pray. There is a difference. While it is important to pray daily, I can't say that every single day I pour myself out to God. Somedays I don't feel like enough has even happened for me to talk to God about, much less pour out my soul to Him. On those days, I may say The Lord's Prayer, or just a generic "Dear Jesus" sort of prayer, and that's fine. But I think that on those days,  those prayers are more for ME, to make ME feel better that I had prayed that day. God wants our passion everyday. How much passion do you think He feels from us when we just say our daily, "the same everyday" prayers? How glorified do you think He feels by those prayers?

How do we make powerful prayer happen?

I do think that there are many tools that we can use to discipline ourselves to pray in a more meaningful way. Not growing up Catholic, I wasn't aware of what a Rosary was, or if I did, I probably thought they were evil, magic beads. However, I am finding them an extremely effective way of disciplining my prayer life right now. On the many days that I don't "feel" like praying, I can start with a Rosary; it's repetitive, it's tactile, it allows me to enter a prayerful mindset without having to even think of a prayer at all. After 20-30 minutes of that (because for those of you non-Catholics, yes, it does really take that long to get all the way around the Rosary. Whew!), my mind is no longer racing or distracted; it has been tamed enough to where I can just open my mouth and allow the words to flow out that need to. Because I took the time to discipline myself by praying a Rosary (more for my benefit), I was able to pray a meaningful and purposeful prayer afterward (more for God's benefit)

Here is what I am starting to realize about myself. I used prayer as an inward tool for so long, I didn't even know there was another, better, more fulfilling option. Examining your inner self with prayer is good and necessary, and crying out to God in the good times and bad allows you to foster that relationship with Him that we so desperately desire. However, if the point of prayer is to commune with God, isn't it likely that eventually we will start to become more like Him? And if this is the case, should we not be using prayer as an outward tool as a result of that?  Should we not be trying to think of better ways to serve each other and those needy around us every day? I suppose I should clarify that this group doesn't just include our friends and family- we are called to be a shoulder to cry on for that co-worker at work, or a meal-ticket for that person on the corner that may or may not really be hungry but who are we to judge? It won't kill you to give them a Sonic gift card- there's no way they can buy beer with that!

It's amazing how much better I feel when I pray for others instead of just myself; it's God's way of reminding us that without Him we are nothing. That's why many times we feel so miserable about ourselves, because we are seeing ourselves without Christ. If redemption is a life-long process, and some days we choose not to seek God, of course we are going to hate ourselves during those times. We are NOTHING without Him. During those times that we are hating on ourselves, if we just pray for those around us, it takes the focus off how miserable we are, and how much we dislike ourselves, and before you know it God is filling you with his joy again because we did what we were supposed to do in the first place: take care of each other like He has told us to.

Prayer is for us in the beginning, but if we really discipline ourselves to not just pray, but pray meaningfully everyday, God will start using our prayers in ways we could never imagine.

Is God Only Where We Choose To Find Him?

Is God only where we choose to find Him? Is he only in those brief moments of enlightenment when we finally choose to let go and trust Him? Yes, He is in those moments, and He is powerful in them. But He is mostly in those moments when we have no idea what is going on, and our world seems to be caving in on us. We may not even remember what His face looks like in those moments,  or how to begin the long journey home. The grace that He extends to us in those moments may not be immediately noticed, but it is there, if simply by the simple fact that, like a planet in orbit, no matter how far away we seem to be getting off track, we are always guaranteed to be drawn back to our source. That is our grace, and our promise. Those without that promise are certain to become lost in the helplessness of their own orbit, and I seem to be seeing more and more of this happen to those around me.

I don't know if I can do it justice, but I wanted to document this special little moment in time, so that I can always look back and remember what it feels like to have God literally hold my hand, and even carry me through a situation that seemed very uncertain and unsettling to a lady who likes to be in control of everything, and know what is going on at all times.

Michael and I are living a dream. What dream, you ask? The one that has been taunting us, seeming to never arrive: the end of residency. Now that we are a mere 3 months away from this blessed event that has been 7 years in the making, I can say that we are finally excited. For the past couple of months until just recently, (I can't speak for Michael), I was too overwhelmed with all the uncertainties of how we were going to transition into our new lives to even take time to be excited.

I think we all know that when one big event happens in life, usually it trigger many other events, creating a whole new landscape for your life, whether you were prepared for it or not.  This has happened many times to me, yet I never quite react the way that I am supposed to. I don't automatically have holy thoughts when I am beaten down by life, but I am learning to give my worries up to God a whole lot sooner than later in these situations, and surprisingly enough I am given the grace I need to overcome my anxieties.

In recent months, we had begun the search for a house. We searched, and found nothing. Nada. We couldn't find a house that fit our needs or was in an area that we liked.

So recently we have begun the process of getting things ready to build a house. We are excited, but realize that this process comes with its own set of headaches.

We learned that due to a set of events I won't detail here, the construction on our home may not begin as soon as we initially had hoped.

We learned that we are pregnant with our 3rd child!

We scheduled a Mediterranean cruise, then had to cancel it and book a straightforward European land-excursion only because SURPRISE! You can't cruise when you are past a certain point in your pregnancy.

We had a $3000 plumbing emergency occur at our home. It was one of those where they dig up your whole back yard. Hurray!

So yes, lots of big things all happened around the same time, and for awhile I was letting it get to me, and wallowing in the bittersweet joy of complaining. I lashed out in pretty un-Christian ways and wasn't letting God do any sort of actual transformational work in my life. Because who out there just LOVES to let God mold and shape you? Not me! It hurts! But I am thankful that God gave me a husband who is OK with telling me to get over myself and focus on all the blessings that I have been given. And I have some amazing friends who are working toward common goals of surrendering their lives to God, painful piece by painful piece, and I am thankful for their conversation and support.

So I can't help but smile when I see that unexpected $3000 pluming emergency, because weeks later we received a $3000 tax refund that covered the cost.

I can't tell you exactly how this transition to the next stage of our lives will happen, and I'm choosing not to worry about it; instead I am basking in the beauty of today.


Matthew 6:25-34

25 “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? 26 Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 27 Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life[a]?

28 “And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. 29 Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. 30 If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? 31 So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ 32 For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. 33 But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.34 Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

I Got Nothin'

When I was growing up, I attended a Southern Baptist church, and the concept of taking one's children to church with you was a non-issue. You loaded up in the car, dropped the babies in the nursery, and your older kids either went to children's church or sat quietly in the service.

Little did I know I was giving this up when I became Catholic (not that it would have made a difference in my decision)

If you ever visit a Catholic church, you will notice the many, many children sitting in Mass with their parents. Small babies, toddlers, teenagers, you name it, and let me be the first to say that making church a family affair is a wonderful thing. How else are your children going to not only understand, but experience what takes place during a Mass if they are not allowed in the room with mom and dad? The sacrifice of the Mass is for all Catholics, big and small.

We have 2 very small boys, and what we typically do is drop the smallest one in the nursery, so we can focus on really training our older one how to behave in church (once we have that mastered, we'll tackle the other one)

The Mass at our church is typically and hour and 15 minutes, which is longer than most standard Masses (much to my disdain on many Sundays), and not only do you have to keep your child quiet, but you also have to teach them to kneel with you at the appropriate times, pray with you at the appropriate times, walk quietly in the communion line with you, the list goes on and on.

It's not a "set them and forget them" sort of thing. There is activity, there is movement that your child will always be involved in.

I tell you all this, to describe our experience in Mass yesterday. The nursery was closed because the babysitter couldn't get there due to bad weather, so we had to tag team a 1 year old, and soon to be 3 year old.

The 1 year old likes to scream, and when you "shush" him, he screams even louder. Believe it or not, this could be distracting to some people during church.
Between Michael and I, we had to take our children outside 3 or 4 times. I left Mass with a giant scratch on my face from my youngest's fingernails. I was defeated. Again.

I didn't sing any songs, I didn't absorb any words of guidance from Father Rick's homily.
Many might wonder, what was the point of that? Why take your children to church at all if you yourself don't get anything out of it?

Well, here is what I think I learned yesterday when I was grasping for clarity myself.

We take our children to church every Sunday to instill that discipline in them.
When that becomes part of their routine, they can then begin to understand the beauty of what is actually going in in Mass.
As for me, I may never sing another song or actually get to pay attention to another homily for the next 20 years, and as sad as this makes me, as long as I am there, I am getting what I need. Because what I need, the reason for the Mass, is communion. The Eucharist, as we call it.

As a Catholic, I believe that when I receive communion, it the body and blood of Jesus Christ. It's not a symbol or a remembrance, it is THE. God is physically with me and in me and coursing through my veins. So even if I have to be tortured by my children for an hour before receiving Him, I see that as my cross to bear and will do it willingly.  And my children see that I am willing to be beaten down (literally) every Sunday to receive His body and blood.  They see that it is worth it to me. If I was going to church simply to say hi to my friends and get the warm fuzzies from a good message, I can't say that would be worth it to me. THE ONLY thing I would put up with an hour of "control your children" stares and humbly taking the walk of shame outside to put my 3 year old in time out for is HIM.

Although, because I feel that I need that one-on-one time with the Holy Spirit, I have to search for ways to personally connect with God during the week, since I don't get that personal connection on Sunday.

I go to Eucharistic Adoration every other week. This doesn't sound like a lot, but Michael and I have to take turns and that's about as often as we can manage right now.

For those of you that don't know, Eucharistic Adoration is a beautiful tradition in the Catholic Church in which a consecrated host (a communion host that has been consecrated, and is now the true body of Jesus)  is placed on display and left out for people to come and pray before it and sit in the presence of God as they please. It is truly the most peaceful place I could ever hope to be, besides heaven itself.
I am trying to incorporate The Liturgy of the Hours into my daily routine. This is just a series of daily prayers and bible readings that are read by Catholics all around the world at certain hours of the day, everyday, so if you read them according to schedule, you are guaranteed to be joining an army of fellow believers in unified prayer.

So I'm going to keep on getting nothing out of church for the sake of my children, but when it's all said and done, I am getting all that I need, and my children get to watch that happen every week.

Baby, It's Cold Outside (And I'm Going Bonkers!)

It's one of those days. Ok, maybe one of those weeks. Erm. Months.
It was 3 degrees yesterday morning. My kids have been watching way too much TV. I'm running out of ideas on how to be a creative mommy. We go on drives around the block and to the drive-through at McDonald's so that we can at least say we have ventured out of the house at least a couple times in a week. You think I'm kidding. I'm not. Winter kills me in this way. You try being locked in a 1,000 square foot box with a 1 and 2 year old from November to March. Just kidding, don't try it.

I find myself in a similar situation to one I was in last year about this time. We suffer from weather-related plumbing hiccups at our house, and every year, for some reason our clothes washer and dishwasher decide to get a little bit silly on us in the winter months.  One stops working completely and the other works, but not without pouring lots of water all over my garage floor. Which is quite nasty when it's 3 degrees outside, but, unfortunately the need for clean underwear is great in this house, and it seems at least one of these problems can't be solved without just outright replacing all the old plumbing pipes in our house. Not happening.

Last year, these hiccups would have been enough to send me into an anxiety attack and perhaps to therapy. I really was that tightly wound with the stresses of life last year, and I needed so badly for things to be perfect. Ha ha! God has a funny way of reminding us what it is we really need.

 This year, God is reminding me of the very real changes He has made in my life by letting me at least joke about these goings-on, and I'm actually learning how to be happy in this chaos, even if I am still a little grossed out by it.  Last year, it was an accomplishment just to make it through the winter without going crazy and giving in to the temptation to complain about everything and throw a pity party for myself. What a lot of effort it takes to complain, and my energy was spent in all the wrong places. This year, I'm not grossed out quite so much by the grime on my kitchen floor, and I am actually OK with hand washing ridiculous amounts of dishes by hand everyday, although it does keep me so busy that I can't keep up with the laundry. Despite all of these things, I am being met with more and more opportunities to meet amazing people through local churches and through my NFP Ministry. So if the trade-off for meeting new brothers and sisters in Christ and growing alongside them is to have a grimy house, then may I forever have a grimy house. Amen.

 It's amazing how God can freely work when you take just a little bit of that energy that you had used for complaining, and choose to allow Him to use it for His good. It makes me smile, because it seems like such a simple concept, yet it takes many people a lifetime to learn. Including me; I'm still learning.

I can't think of a poignant life altering lesson to share with you as a result of all of this. It's good to feel like I have an option to not complain about the bumps in the road, when before that would have been my one and only option. That in itself it making me a happier person, as simple as it sounds.  It's interesting to think that maybe God is teaching me how to be happy in a chaotic environment because that is where I truly thrive. What does this mean? Lots more kids? Crazier hours for my husband to take at work? Who knows what the future will bring, but I guess I'm ready for it. It doesn't really matter because I'm not steering the ship, but I trust the One who is.

Oh, and that old saying that "Cleanliness is next to Godliness"?
It's an outright lie.

I'm going to go now, and snap my fingers like Mary Poppins and take care of this mess once and for all. That really works, right?

Tavi