The Potter Dilemna

Check out this post from Catholic Mother's Online all about the Harry Potter series. While I've been wanting to post one of my own, I just don't think I could say it any better than this lovely lady!

Step it UP!

Our lives are very full, aren't they?

I love my job, but I hate the stress. Being of a generation that is known for their lack of commitment, it is hard to stay committed to the work that I do. However, I had parents that instilled in me a work ethic and a perserverance that is unique to my generation.

God did not make us for work, but God did make work for us. Work is an activity meant to fulfill the human need for productivity. Work is meant to feed the human soul and it comes in many forms.

Everything you do may not be your passion or utmost interest. Everything you do may not be life-giving. I have some news for my generation: LIFE IS NOT PERFECT. But we all must get through. We all must provide for ourselves. We are called to use our giftedness (not just our passions) to care for our families and our world regardless of how wonderful it makes us feel. Your gift may be for multi-tasking which you love to apply in your passion for cooking, but if you can't find a job as a chef, you can most certainly still use your giftedness as an administrative assistant.

Waiting for perfection is not an excuse for laziness and it gives our generation a really bad reputation. Find a way to use your gifts. Find a way to better yourself and your community. Make a commitment and stick to it. Follow through. It is through hard work, follow-through and accountability that most successful people make their way to a vocation that they love. And for those of you who fall back-end into your dream job, earn it - don't just take it for granted.

And even then, even the most perfect vocation will always require sacrifice.

My Love of Farm Eggs

I have fallen in love with farm eggs.

I have been assured that a photo of chicks is not sadistic when discussion the consumption of eggs because these chicks are not the ones sacrificed for the sake of my eggs, but instead will grow up to lay my beautiful wonderful eggs.

The sweet, variously shaped, beautifully brown, and curiously rich product of local hens.

I keep a dozen in my fridge along side my cheap, white, mass-produced variety.

You may ask: why use more than one kind?

Well, here's the thing. I have a family and I do a lot of cooking. The concept of two kinds of eggs runs along the same lines as the whole CSA and Sams Club membership paradox. A lot of my baking recipes call for eggs as one of many ingredients which makes the recipe a perfect candidate for inexpensive eggs. However, I have come to LOVE homemade carbonara where egg is pretty much the prima donna of the dish. That would be a recipe that seductively beckons for the rich subtlty of a fresh farm egg.

God has given us so many wonderful gifts in our world from the simplicity of a laying hen to the technological complexity of mass agriculture. Each has it's place and supports a delicate web of beneficiaries, just as each type of egg can have a place in my kitchen repetoire.

While we're on the subject, anyone want to teach me how to poach the perfect egg? I'm feeling a round of perfectly pink steak and eggs...

Praise the Lord that Singing is Like Praying Twice!

We had company a few weekends ago. My best friend and college roommate came for a quick visit to see us, although I do suspect that her adorable Godson was more of the motivation. We shopped, we ate, we relaxed on the back deck.

Before bed on Saturday night I said to my dear friend (who happens to be the daughter of a United Methodist minister and of the denomination herself), “Say Jess, would you be willing to watch the kiddos tomorrow morning so Kevin and I can go to Mass without them?”

I am not one that believes in not bringing your children to church when they are young, but quite frankly it is virtually impossible to establish any focus with our two monkeys climbing all over us.

Well, being that she has spent nearly as much time learning the Catholic tradition as the Methodist due to the nature of her schooling and is in a searching state at the moment, attending various churches and denominations, she replied, “No, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d really like to go. I can help with the kids.”

Ha.
LOL.

The only good things about that Sunday Mass were the facts that we arrived on time and the church didn’t have air conditioning. Arriving on time allowed us to sit in front so that the only poor soul watching our children was the priest and the fans, which lack any effective cooling properties did effectively drown out most of our children’s chatter, whining, and admirable attempts at singing. We only had one removal and one sickening thud of head against pew.

As I dripped sweat and seethed over the dirty looks the priest had given us (didn’t Jesus say “Let the children come!” – and I bet those kids weren’t exactly quiet either!!!), and my blood pressure sky-rocketed. We hadn’t even peeled our thighs off the pew after the closing him when my dear friend turned to all of us and said, “Next time, I’ll keep the kids.”

While that statement alone is enough of a punch line, I’m working hard at looking for the bright side. Perhaps God is in fact SO GOOD that my song (the only thing I can do wholeheartedly at Mass anymore) counts as praying twice!

UPDATE: We've been having a debate over here at the parish office about appropriate behavior/parenting at Mass. We had an older parishioner scold a young mom for letting her little one pace the pew. This is not a new mom, but one with some seasoning. What are your thoughts? Leave me a note. Is welcoming children a matter of hospitality or is it inhospitable to the others around them? I'll weigh in with our opinion shortly...:)