Welcome to the Herd!

Family road trip! Complete with at least 3 potty stops (and iced coffee to take the edge off so many potty stops) and at least one newly coined word from Clara. This trip it was, "gooseballs".

I love the Blogsy app! Never before have I been able to type a blog post while on a road trip.

We are on our way to a weekend trip to Chicago to visit with my family and celebrate my beautiful niece Elizabeth's 2nd birthday. I can't help but reflect on how big all of our children are getting! They are growing so beautifully and becoming such wonderful little people. What a joy and immense blessing to be co-creating them with our Lord.

We often quote the movie "Ice Age" when talking about our very unique extended family. Sid the Sloth says, "We are the weirdest herd I've ever seen." And truly WE are. Not only do we have unique upbringings and values set, our family has grown in very unique ways. A family of 3 girls, we welcomed a 2-year-old brother (through adoption) at the same time we were welcoming brother-in-laws into our lives. And just when the lake cabin was the perfect size for our extended family, God surprised us with both my niece Elizabeth and our joyful son Thomas. And the story of Elizabeth's adoption is what brings me to today's post.

Elizabeth joined our family through adoption. Her story is worth telling and retelling as a powerful example of God's generosity and provision. My sister and brother-in-law found out Elizabeth just a week before she was born. Elizabeth's beautiful and generous birth mom has two other daughters and was working to get her feet back under her when she found out she was expecting Elizabeth. She knew that God was not calling her to parent this child. She did not search for an adoptive family until she was nearly nine months pregnant. She found my sister and her husband through a friend.

An uncomplicated pregnancy with good maternal choices, Elizabeth's mom had not had any prenatal care. Shortly after meeting my sister and her husband, she visited the doctor to check her dates. During the examination, the medical staff discovered a tear in the amniotic sac which was leaking amniotic fluid. Fluid levels were so low that they decided an emergency c-section was in order.

My sister was called and she rushed to find a floating replacement nurse on her pediatric critical care unit. In tears, she and her husband rushed to the hospital. They waited in the waiting room for news of their child. Elizabeth arrived healthy and they were told they needed to wait out the recovery time. Expecting a wait, my sister sent her husband home to let the dog out. Shortly after he left, a recovery nurse came up and offered to sneak my sister into recovery. As she entered the room and held her baby for the first time, the tears flowed freely. She was the first person to hold Elizabeth and 3 days later our sweet little Lizzy came home.

I visited my little baby girl the Monday after her birth. I snuggled her up close as I sat in the sunny outdoor swing at my mom's house. Never had my heart been so full. All of the sudden I understood the sheer awesome task of being an aunt. There is something so deep about that relationship.

(Insert flux of mama hormones here...and despite scientific hormonal tracking and charting to the exact opposite, said hormones miraculously led to the birth of our sweet little Thomas exactly 9 months later.)

3 weeks later marked the forfiture of parental rights.

6 months later marked the offical adoption date.

Upon her formal adoption, family and friends received a pink announcement with the scripture passage, "For this child I prayed."

And truly there could be no sweeter answer to our prayers. Happy Birthday my little Dizzy! I love you.

(Blogsy and traffic in Milwaukee is not a good combo for this motion sickness-prone mama...)

 

 

Posted with Blogsy

Favorite Quotes of the Week - In Memorium

The past weekend we lost our beloved priest Fr. Tom Hagendorf. He was an excellent teacher and compassionate man. He took such joy in our children and was scheduled to celebrate the baptism of our 3rd. He will be deeply missed in our lives and in our community.

The past week has left me some really serious quotes to reflect on in light of what this life calls us to do. As I head into yet another phase of newborn-dom, I hope to spend some time discerning what exactly God wants me to do with His wisdom.

Sermon from the day after our pastor died from his fellow Norbertine brother and prior:
"I want to be one of those scooter priests..."

"Jimmy, I want to go out with my boots on."

http://holycrossfamily.blogspot.com/2013/05/homily-for-may-19-2013-pentecost.html

Father Tom always used to say to Kevin and I, "My mother always told me that children making noise during the Mass was in return for all of the services I ruined for her as a child. I figure, I can always talk louder than they can."

Hmmm...really thinking hard on this one from Pope Francis:
"We cannot become starched Christians, too polite, who speak of theology calmly over tea. We have to become courageous Christians and seek out those (who need help most)," he said.

Clara Ann Turns 3

I’m within the month so it counts, right?

Clara turned 3. My little wise-woman is 3. Amazing.

She was laying in bed with me after her nap yesterday and she was all curled around my 9-month-pregnant belly rubbing it and talking to it and I realized, “This little girl is my big girl now.”

In the past year, Clara has really amused us with the little lady she is becoming. She is really sassy, spunky, and all her own person. Just a few phrases from her lingo as of the past year:

“Avocado, are you okay?”

“I’m going to crack you like an egg!”

“There’s a veggie fry in my baby carseat!”

And yet, this edgy little beauty has a deeply emotional side as well.

She regularly despairs over the deceased animals in our family, wishing desperately to go to heaven to see them.

When we were watching Disney’s Fox and the Hound she had an all-out, crying, sobbing, meltdown when Todd the fox was being taken away from his home to the wildlife preserve.

She is notorious for wailing for the parent that she isn’t currently at odds with and often insists, “pat my back, pat my back” before bedtime.

Though very fond of her mother, she is a daddy’s girl all the way. She loves to tell him all about her dreams and makes sure she enjoys all the things he does including hockey.

We have come to believe that she possesses her daddy’s gift of “super palate”. To help my readers understand, Kevin can taste all nuances of things in his food and beverages including when a beer has been poured into glass which previously served a bloody Mary drinking patron – something about the celery salt. Clara will try anything and usually like it. She loves kalamata greek olives, horseradish, salsa, lemons, vinaigrettes, whole grain mustard, and smelly cheese. She regularly smells food on our breath and can identify it.

“Daddy, I smell peanuts on your breath.”

“Mama, I need some chocolate too.”

Her love and curiosity for the Lord and the Blessed Mother continues to grow. She desperately wanted to be involved in my Girlfriends in God art project that involved the Blessed Mother and was tickled pink when I gave her my little compact mirror from the Sisters of St. Francis of the Holy Cross. She memorized the imprinted quote almost immediately.

“May you be the face of Christ to others.”

Then she asked me if we could go visit St. Francis and when I told her that St. Francis was in heaven, she was heartbroken. I offered that we could go visit the sisters and in typical Sappa fashion, asked if we could have breakfast with them.

She is the epitome of emotion and independence inherited from Kevin and me. I love and admire her more each day, but am definitely getting my payback for everything I put my own mother through.

Happy birthday Sappa-Lou! We love you!

Welcome Pope Francis!

I know that I have an experience bias here, but the image attached is so powerful to me as we learn more about our new Holy Father.

Can you imagine being dressed in little more than a hospital gown with an archbishop sitting at your feet just days, perhaps hours, after you've given birth? The last thing I want to look at after birth is my feet even if I can finally see them - they are swollen and aching. I am at perhaps my most vulnerable moment of life and I am exhausted. And yet, this holy man humbles himself to honor me as I hold my newborn child, the cool water soothing my feet and a deep sense of annointing flooding over my soul. Can you possibly imagine the way this woman's life and vocation may have been changed by this encounter with the very hands of Christ?

 

This is our faith. This is the faith of our Church. These are the most blessed and welcome hands of Christ. Let us pray for Pope Francis.

The Pill v. NFP: Are They Really Different?

Our beautiful niece Elizabeth! A beautiful example of YES!

Congratulations!! You are a wonderful mama and I'm sure you're very excited for another addition. This baby is very lucky to be born to such a sweet, caring family.

On another note, you say "we are so grateful that we have never imposed barriers to the life-giving gift we've been given. Imagine if God had given us this gift of fertility and we had chosen to use a contraceptive drug that acts to prevent the implantation of a conceived child?"

In using NFP, you take actions to avoid pregnancy. By taking a pill, you're preventing pregnancy. I'd be interested in a post on why avoidance is better than prevention. In reality, the both require the same intent and same result. Is the process actually so important?

I'm not being antagonistic...I really think it would be interesting to read your viewpoint!

I know that I've posted on this before, but it was also before I had children. There is a big credibility difference between someone who has children versus someone who has no children on this topic. The comment and question above is from a really dear friend of mine. I don't typically like to respond to comments, but her question is valid and I know it is one to foster dialogue not arguement. I wasn't sure I wanted to take the time to write a whole post, but after writing a direct email back to her, I realized it was a good post too!

If in fact birth control pills are as effective as they are and I were on them, there is a 99% chance that this baby, our baby, who we now lovingly refer to as "Spud", wouldn't be arriving in 9 months. Some pills prevent ovulation and that would have almost guaranteed no pregnancy. Some pills and devices allow conception, but make the uterine lining inhospitable to implantation, thus causing the body to flush the conceived embryo with the menstrual cycle. Condoms and diaphrams avoid pregnancy by imposing an artificial latex or rubber barrier. This baby was actually conceived (because I chart and I know) well out of my normal fertile window. I was all but positive, by way of my multiple symptom markers, that we were a full week post-ovulation. Suffice it to say, God wanted this baby to be conceived and because we don't use artificial barriers, the baby was able to be conceived. 

The process of avoiding or for that matter, achieving pregnancy, in our hearts matters a great deal because it is the difference between trusting God and believing that we, as flawed and limited humans, are in control. It's actually a pretty holistic approach for us. It impacts not only how we plan our family, but how we eat, how we interact, who we spend time with, and how we give. We were blessed to have been given these 4 infinitives in the first few years of our marriage and they have become a guiding philosophy for our family in so many aspects:

Accept God's Gifts Gratefuly
Nurture God's Gifts Responsibly
Share God's Gifts Justly and Charitably

Return God's Gifts Abundantly.

Don't get me wrong, a condom can break and medication interactions can nullify the effects of many birth control pills, so if God wants you to conceive all kinds of things can happen. However, this way we are not putting up additional barriers to the gifts and life God wants to give us. We don't live in a position/country/economic status where there is any reason to reject God's gift of life. It might make us have to live a bit leaner, with a bit less sleep, and we might not be able to travel as much or purchase the newest gadgets, but really, how can any of that compare to the gift of a child? Accepting a child is one of the most sacrificial, but sanctifying things I've done in my life, and God has provided every step of the way.

I often wonder, philosopher that I am, what if God offered to conceive a child with us who had the potential to cure cancer, but a condom or pill prevented it? (Please know that I propose this in all humility with any of the greatness falling on God and certainly do not presume myself a worthy mother of a child with these gifts.) What kinds of people and gifts are being lost to this world because people with the means aren't willing say YES? No judgement, just curiousity. There are a whole lot of philosophical and theological concepts in there about who you believe God to be and God's role in our world and how far God's power can reach into the free-will of humans lives, but it is a question worth considering for us.

***Sidenote: Humans conceived and not brought to full potential and dignity is also why frozen embryos used in other forms of technologically assisted fertility and embryonic stem cell research raise a concern for us. Human beings in suspended animation until another human decides it's time to see if they can be brought to life is utilitarian at best.

We are constantly discerning where to go with our family. We don't consider ourselves called to be a "big Catholic family" and we are not Quiverfull followers, like the famously large family the Duggars.  In fact, the weekend before we found out we were pregnant, my niece Elizabeth was with us and didn't really sleep through the night and I was pretty affirmed in our discernment of 2 due to some other health issues I've been facing. On the other hand, having Elizabeth with us and seeing the kids with her, Kevin made a complete 180 and thought it might be a good idea to discern a third. 3 days later, God gave us the answer. And it was an answer that had already been in the works for weeks. Strange how that works. And yet, when this baby arrives, we must once again begin our regular discernment of our family size and our call to be co-creators. Moreover, we believe that we have a call to co-create with God and be fertile through God in places beyond our womb, but that does not allow us to close our womb to life. Every month we must enter into conversation and prayer about the gift of life God may be offering us and if God is calling us to say YES.

My relationship with the Blessed Mother has been forever changed by my own experience of saying YES. This world would not be what it is today if it were not for her YES. I can't help but share a favorite reflection on Mary's YES. I have somewhere in my files a wonderful poem written about Mary's Fait (the Latin word for YES) and when I find it I will post it too.

NFP allows us to hold nothing back in our sexual intimacy and allows us to intentionally strengthen our relationship through other forms of intimacy when we are trying to avoid conception. There is a little bit of crunchy mama in there too because I hated what contraceptives did to my body and mind when I was on them through college for abnormal cycles.

 

Honestly, it is a marital decision. So long as a couple is not using an abortifacient form of birth control or Plan B that allows conception but not implantation (even if the science is still "inconclusive"), I can respect whatever family planning decisions they make. I don't believe in relativity, that something that works for me may not work for other people, I just know that respect is key to dialogue as long as a conceived life is not in jeopardy. It's just really important to me to be a witness for the choices and gifts of our own life and to give our perspective and beliefs a voice.

The Enormity of One Drive

It's 8:48a and i've already been humbled.

If I haven't mentioned yet, I am an intensely introverted person. I know this is shocking to anyone who has heard me speak or teach, but I stick pretty close to the vest in social situations. My social anxieties also make marital social events difficult because my husband has a stamp a his forehead that says, "Talk to me, I want to know."

Last night after a really long day and a last minute change of plans we joined a group of Kevin's old friends and their kids for a gathering. I was doing okay after the park. Lots of space, lots of attention on the kids, I could remain fairly annonymous. Then my worst nightmare, the park closed at sunset and the gathering moved to my sister-in-law's home.

4 little boys and 2 little girls. Adults drinking - which I have NO problem with (in fact a beer may have curbed my anxiety a bit), but I choose not to drink on nights before I work because even small amounts of alcohol and I don't function pleasantly in the morning. Mosquitos biting. No air-conditioning. It took all of 20 minutes for my blood pressure to rise and my breath to quicken. As the noise level grew, I bit my lip harder to keep from bolting out the front door to catch my breath. I didn't want to lose it or heaven forbid, cry. I sat quietly in the recliner refereeing my children and watching the "germils" take turns running on their wheel. I know that I was being anti-social, but it was better than having a complete emotional breakdown.

Eventually the night ended and we packed two sweaty little kids in the car for a fairly quiet ride home. I was exhausted. Completely. I didn't even want to talk to my husband and it wasn't because I was angry.

The pall still hangs over me this morning. I had to prepare a pot of soup for a staff lunch and in the hubub of the evening had not gotten to the grocery store for the last minute ingredients. I shot out the door when the sitter arrived to stop at the "neighborhood market" on my way to work in a neighborhood that quite frankly, puts me on guard.

It took me 10 minutes to wade past all the crap aisles to find beans and then I had to weave into a hidden corner of the store to find fresh produce. I settled for collard greens because this is not the kind of place that you're apt to find kale. May I add, this place is a nutritional nightmare for the people in this neighborhood.

I got back in my car and continued down to the next intersection where a middle-aged man was sitting on a decrepit concrete barrier drinking a beer - at 8 in the morning. Yet one more block down I see a twenty-something woman, about 8 months pregnant, waiting for the bus - smoking.

Now, I can't judge the God-given lives of these people. I don't know their circumstances, but is this what our society has come to as a collective whole. And, while I will not down play my own anxiety issues or my experience, I sure have a new perspective from which to look at it from.

It made me go back and read my own recent post at Catholic Mothers Online. Even if I can't turn the frown upside down, what am I going to do today to make my life less about me and more about bettering the world around me?

Working Smart in the Kitchen

Great new concept! The Indians have it right! Naan bread that you make like pancakes and can use all week!

I made this last weekend to go with some fabulous lamb stew (added Door County dried cherries, yum!) and I've used the leftovers all week. So versatile.

I made a tzaziki sauce (but I use all yogurt, no mayo and no sour cream and I add a bit of dill - be sure to drain the cucs!) so we could eat it as an appetizer to another meal. I made naan pizzas with tomato paste, turkey pepperoni and shredded cheese. I toasted it in the toaster and made breakfast out of it. Great for dipping in eggs. Awesome snack to just hand the kids! (and the mama...)

Chewy, protein and whole grain rich, flat yummy-ness. Do not deny yourself.

1 tbsp active dry yeast
1 tbsp sugar
combine in small bowl until dissolved

1 cup lukewarm water
1/4 cup plain yogurt (or sour cream)
1 beaten egg
1 tbsp oil
2 tsp salt
mix in seperate bowl and stire in yeast mixture

5+ cups of bread flour (up to half whole wheat if you like)

Stir in enough flour to make a soft dough. Knead for 10 minutes. Place in greased bowl and turn to grease both sides. Cover with a damp cloth and let rise for 1 hour. Separate dough into golf ball sized balls and roll to 1/16 inch thickness. Preheat frypan (or pancake griddle!). Add 1/2 tsp to each area you will be frying on and allow to melt. Place on flattened round on each buttered area and cook on each side until lightly browned and puffy (3-4 minutes per side, this is why I love the griddle!). Wrap in towel to keep warm while cooking remaining bread. Store in ziplock in the fridge for 5-7 days. Warm in oven or toaster, or do like my kids and eat it cold!

10 Things I Didn't Know When I Got Married

1. Differing expectations are at the heart of almost every conflict (and success!)
2. NFP is HARD. That said, it is one of the most worthwhile aspects of our marriage.
3. Men need space...physical and mental...
4. Parents don't get sick days.
5. I'm undisciplined and insecure. God is so good for giving me a patient and encouraging husband.
6. You can communicate too much, but we'd prefer it that way to not enough.
7. Diaper bribes only work when you don't share a bank account.
8. Dual jobs/incomes are great...until you have to balance them with family life. Praise God for a husband who understands the importance of balancing our family life with my career ambitions.
9. My husband has a mental stamina that rivals a robot. He has held strong through many a joyful, sleepless, confused, and tearful night.
10. Life makes love look hard, but with God, the last six years have been the most abundantly blessed of my life.

All jokes aside, five years ago I married a man who is gift from God that I could never deserve. Though cliche, I love him more today than that dreary April day in 2007 when we vowed our lives to God and each other. My best friend, my confident, my lover, my muse, my protector, and many days, my brain. He is the man who challenges me to be better than I am and who encourages me to continue becoming God's creation.

I love you.

Girlfriends in God: More Precious than Jewels!

A quick photo post from yesterday's amazing event! You ladies are beautiful and holy jewels in God's crown! I can't wait to see you all again soon!

St. Kate's Shout Out

Who knows what kind of grief this is going to get me amidst my staff, my collegues, and my mama community, but here it is: I'm a 2005 graduate of St. Catherine University! St. Kate's is my alma mater and yes, it is an all-women's Catholic university located in St. Paul, Minnesota.

Let's start with a few myths. We are not all lesbian, though we have women and friends in our community who are. We are a liberal arts college, but there are conservatives, progressives, and independents among us. My generation did not have curfews and guys are allowed on campus and in the dorms (though they had to be out by 1 a.m.) We do not and did not have pillow fights in our underwear, but we do wear comfy pants to class. We are a Catholic university, but we respect and learn from all kinds of religious faith and spirituality. Finally, any alumnae that tells you she didn't feed the squirrels is probably lying.

It seems like a great concept. A higher-education experience surrounded only by women. A golden opportunity for serious, focused, goal-oriented learning. In fact, the university's vision is "To be a leading Catholic university distinguished by its innovative spirit and premier baccalaureate College for women."

It's a glorious vision. Unfortunately, visions are often just that - something we see, hope for, and desire but whose reality we can only strive for. You see, the vision statement leaves something to be imagined because it is actually somewhere amidst the estrogen and the massive amounts of chemically-enhanced junk food is where the real story of St. Kate's lies. Let's take a look.

"To be a leading Catholic university..."

My faith was challenged by my experience at St. Kate's. To say otherwise would be untrue. And yet, it was in the challenges that I found my resolute in the faith of my childhood. I found myself in my faith. I better understood the intellectual challenges to the Catholic faith and was able to arm myself in knowledge and acceptance of the mystery.

Moreover, the wonderful ACTC consortium relationship provided not only expanded learning options, but it allowed me to choose the depth and specificity at which I wished to study. Half of the courses for my theology major were taken through the University of St. Thomas Catholic Studies department. I rely regularly on the strict theology and doctrine from my UST courses, but I rely just as heavily on the pastoral insights and lifelong learning perspective that I received in my St. Kate's course. Without both, I would not have the well-rounded background I need for my work in today's Church.

I remember fondly a Christian Life Stages course taught by Sr. Shawn Madigan. On a weekly basis, as I face the different needs of various people of faith, I reflect back on my learning about the different faith stages of individuals. I am so blessed that she has returned to her home town and mine, where she regularly presents and reflects at the Norbertine Center for Spirituality a few minutes from our parish. The St. Kate's community never ceases to touch my life.

At some point during my time at St. Kate's I read the book "Friendship and the Moral Life" by Dr. Paul Wadell. Little did I know that a few short years later I would be listening to him speak at my own parish, being that he is a professor at the local Catholic college.

Most significant to the Catholic identity of the college for me was in the example of the late Dr. Russ Connors. My final year at St. Kate's his course on "Suffering, Compassion, and Healing" was the only theology course that also fulfilled my writing intensive requirement. The learning was meaningful, but made only more so by the living and dying of the man who taught it. Having kept close tabs on Dr. Connor's work and health since my graduation, it has been a great joy, comfort and example to watch him live the lessons he taught. He suffered his conditions with grace, lived what time he had to the fullest, and died with great dignity and love. He leaves behind a legacy that exemplifies the Catholic intellectual tradition: faith, understanding, and great love.

"...innovative spirit..."

I was a nerd and the college experience wasn't going to change that. I was blessed to be a part of the Antonian Honors program. Interdisciplinary seminars and lectures pushed my learning to a new level and gave me the ability to flex my intellectual creativity. I was able to take my interests, my passions, and turn them into a learning opportunity. I was encouraged to read and research John Paul II's rhapsodic theater movement - for a grade! I researched, marketed, directed, and produced a play! The innovative spirit of the program taught me that I have control over my learning and my experience and inspires me to continue my learning in whatever endeavor I undertake.

Moreover, it was in St. Kate's cafeteria that I was first introduced to Bailey's Irish Cream ice cream. Many a late study (and movie) nights were accompanied by that ice cream and I like to believe that it's unique place in my experience has inspired me to continue trying new foods, new experiences and my own culinary endeavors. Perhaps ice cream cannot be considered innovative, but it sure can be considered inspiring!

The innovative nature of my St. Kate's experience is what inspired the work on this blog. It is what inspired the work I do in women's ministry. I learned to see a need and respond to it with my gifts. God has imbued the St. Kate's community with the inspiration and innovation of the Spirit.

"...premiere baccalaureate College for women."

While an education is a key aspect of the St. Kate's experience, I think the key word in the final phrase of the university's vision is "women". Community is at the core of my St. Kate's experience. Is, not was, because the St. Kate's community extends well beyond our time noshing in the Pulse, working out in Butler, studying next to Dew Drop, or worshipping in the Chapel.

After graduation I moved to Green Bay where I met my husband. We prepared for marriage at our local parish where we were paired with a preparation couple. Small world that the St. Kate's community is, Kris and Bob Fry were a Katie-Tommy pair from an earlier generation. Their marriage, family and way of life is testament to the character fortified by their SCU and UST experiences. They actively contribute to the global search for justic and stand firmly on both feet of charity and advocacy. Most importantly, they inspire others to do the same.

Last, but perhaps most meaningful to my experience at St. Kate's, is my roommate. I lived with the same roommate all 3 years we were at St. Kate's. Jessie was there through the ups and downs of college life. She's survived the guys, the jobs, and countless miles of travel. Together we've seen the late night crowd at the Highland Park Chipotle, the inside of St. Joseph's hospital emergency room, and miles of high-speed rails across Europe. She is not only one of my best friends and confidents, but she is now my son's Godmother. If I take nothing else with me from my time at St. Kate's, I take her and her unconditional love.

Not every moment of my time at St. Kate's was easy or humorous. There were days when I questioned every aspect of the vision statement above. Ultimately though, asking those questions, seeking for the answers, and experiencing the impact of the community made me a stronger person, a more supportive wife, a more loving mother, and a more dedicated woman of God. St. Kate's vision prepared me to live an even greater vision: to live and share the message and mission of Jesus Christ.

"Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you..."

Matthew 28: 19-20

February 29th is "Shout Out St. Kate's" Day! For more insights into the St. Kate's community go to http://minerva.stkate.edu/shoutout.nsf/pages/homepage

Dying in Christ

"From dust you came and to dust you shall return."

It's Ash Wednesday again...probably the most well-attended non-obligatory day in the Church year. I believe that for many Catholics Ash Wednesday has taken on the traditional spirit of New Years - a time to reflect, repent, and refocus on the important aspects of life.
As a daughter, a wife and a mother, I’ve discovered that throughout the journey of our faith life, we have opportunities to either live as Christ teaches or turn to another teacher, whatever or whoever that may be.

I learned my first lesson about dying in Christ around the age of 18 when my parents became foster parents to at-risk infants. You’ll most likely find my 50 year old mother in her rocking chair, priming a feeding pump, or in a waiting room at a hospital or therapy clinic.

We weren’t always a foster family. We were an average family with three daughters. My mother had always wanted more, but after some serious health diagnoses she accepted God’s plan for the 5 of us. A registered nurse turned stay-at-home mom, she kept her nursing license current “just in case”. Though she had always wanted to do foster care, my dad wasn’t so sure. In 2002, our parish hosted a ministry fair that included a local social service agency looking for foster and adoptive parents. My dad’s heart softened and God’s seed began to germinate. They began the preparation courses. After a cross-country move and a few less than Godly obstacles, they completed their licensure as foster parents.

We have had more babies than you can count on both hands, each one with their own need, their own family, and their own lesson for us.

When this process began, I had my feelings of replacement and frustration. I was the first out of the house and even before I was gone there was someone there to take my place. Our first little pixie, who to this day has a piece of my heart, took my mom away from me during a time of great transition to adulthood. The close relationship mom and I had built seemed, at best, an afterthought. It put a strain on my relationship with my dad who became the buffer for my frustration, and with my sister who has always been my mom’s ultimate champion.

As the years have passed and my own family has grown, I have been in a constant process of prayer and conversion. God offers me the patience and grace I need to die to myself and know that this is what the example of Jesus and the sacrament of the Eucharist is all about. While I can’t honestly write that I am on board with the choice and its implications all the time, I know that something that requires this much love and this much sacrifice must be a call from God. While I selfishly worry about my children’s grandparents and the time they have to spend with them and with each other, I trust that Mom and Dad are in constant discernment. I know that as God calls them to this, He also provides the time and nourishment they need to be sustained in their vocation. Today, I am so blessed to say that my children will never know a limited definition of family.

Luke 6:17-45

And he came down with them and stood on a stretch of level ground. A great crowd of his disciples and a large number of the people from all Judea and Jerusalem and the coastal region o Tyre and Sidon came to hear him and to be healed of their diseases; and even those who were tormented by unclean spirits were cured. Everyon in the crowd sought to touch him because power came forth from him and healed them all.

Sermon on the Plain

And raising his eyes towardy his disciples he said:

"Blessed are you who are poor,

for the kingdom of God is yours.

Blessed are you who are now hungry,

for you will be satisfied.

Blessed are you who are now weeping,

for you will laugh.

Blessed are you when people hate you,

and when they exclude and insult you,

and denounce your name as evil

on account of the Son of Man

Rejoice and leap for joy on that day!

Behold, your reward will be great in heaven.

For their ancestors treated the prophets in the same way.

But woe to you who are rich,

for you have received your consolation.

But woe to you who are filled now,

for you will be hungry.

Woe to you who laugh now,

for you will grieve and weep.

Woe to you when all speak well of you, 

for their ancestors treated the false prophets in this way.

Love of Enemies

But to you who hear I say, love your enemies, do good to those who hate you. Bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. To the person who strikes you on one cheek, offer the other one as well, and from the person who takes your cloak, do not withhold even your tunic. Give to everyone who asks of you, and from the one who takes what is yours do not demand it back. Do to others as you would have them do to you. For if you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? Event sinners love those who love them. And if you do good to those who do good to you, what credit is that to you? Even sinners do the same. If you lend money to those from whom you expect repayment, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, and get back the same amount. But rather, love your enemies and do good to them, and lend expecting nothing back; then your reward will be great and you will be children of the Most High, for he himself is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked. Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.

Judging Others

Stop judging and you will not be judged. Stop condemning and you will not be condemned. Forgive and you will be forgiven. Give and gifts will be given to you; a good measure, packed together, shaken down, and overflowing, will be poured into your lap. For the measure with which you measure will in return be measured out to you.”And he told them a parable, “Can a blind person guide a blind person? Will not both fall into a pit? No disciple is superior to the teacher; but when fully trained, every disciple will be like his teacher. Why do you notice the splinter in your brother’s eye, but do not perceive the wooden beam in your own?How can you say to your brother, ‘Brother, let me remove that splinter in your eye,’ when you do not even notice the wooden beam in your own eye? You hypocrite! Remove the wooden beam from your eye first; then you will see clearly to remove the splinter in your brother’s eye.

The Sermon on the Plain is a good summary of Jesus’ teachings.

Scripture asks us regularly to die to ourselves and live in Christ.

The past 8 weeks of my life have been yet another lesson in dying in Christ. Having recently moved, I was fixated on the words “Christmas at home” this year. I had visions of stockings, warm cookies, and Christmas crafts dancing my head. And then the doctor said the word, “cancer” to my mother-in-law the first week of December. The potholders hit the floor just about as fast as I hit my knees.

The words “career path” had been on my heart and in my sights until the second week of December when the thermometer read 103 degrees and my beautiful children couldn’t keep anything down. I spent as much time on my knees cleaning as I did praying. After two weeks, no career success has ever felt as good as the moment the fever breaks and your child sleeps comfortably.

The words “Superbowl” and “finished basement” beckoned us into a January lull until a frantic phone call from my father with words like, “complications”, “pain management” and “6-8 week recovery” sent me rushing to the aid of my mother and foster siblings. In place of a Superbowl, I got a bowl of spaghettios. Instead of basement moulding, I got to clean moldy food out of the refrigerator. Instead of a planning the Confirmation of 50 young people, I found myself living mine.

Things don’t often go as we think they should and as much as I hate to admit it, each of these moments were moments when I found frustration before I found Christ. The frustration stems from a place of topsy-turvy priorities. It was in the second moment where I realized that I had let something else be my guide instead of Christ, and that I had to commit myself to a conversion of heart with Christ as my guide.

We all have moments when we allow someone or something else be our guide, leader and teacher. Perhaps it is the people we spend time with, our families, our society, our government or president, the promise of comfort or money or power.

I’d like you to take a moment and ask yourself, how have I failed to live up to the teachings of Christ? How do I need to die to myself in order to know the joy of living with Christ?

God promises us something beyond death. In dying to ourselves, God promises us life. This cookie is an Easter tradition in my family. The resurrection cookie is a reminder that beyond death is something greater - the empty tomb and the resurrection. The resurrection is the reason we fast - that we are better able to feast on the life and sustance the Lord gives to us through his Son and Spirit.

From Envy to Contentment

I really envy a friend of mine.  She's a lawyer, married with no kids, and living just outside Washington D.C. She has time to run long distances, visit local markets, and spend time "centering" on Sundays.

Today is Sunday and my day was anything but centered. I haven't showered, the laundry is complete but unfolded, and I am sitting mired in a cluttered desk with a to-do list longer than my 5'9" frame. Five minutes ago I had a glass of red wine, but I can't put my finger on it now...

I miss the days before my kids. There, I said it. It doesn't make me love my children any less to say that. It doesn't make me any less of a good mommy to reminisce the days when leaving the house took no longer than the amount of time it took to find my keys. Or to wax on about the weeks when the house only had to be picked up ONCE. Or to want a weekend away with my husband to remember what he looks like without his yogurt-smeared sweatpants.

We have fond memories of our time before our children and I've been told by friends that the years between 0-5 are some of the hardest on a marriage because of the constant grind. Somedays the storytelling is all that gets us through these long days.

As I find myself envying my dear friend's life I hear the Lord say, "Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's goods."

Thanks Lord...

However, when God gives you a message like that and you can't get it off your heart, I've found that the only way past it is to take it to prayer. As I mulled over that phrase, angry at God for missing the point, I couldn't make myself feel better. Nothing I read or thought could justify me past what God was telling me. If I wasn't right then I had to wander down the rabbit hole of "what if God is right?"

Shoot...

What I have is beautiful. The life we live is so blessed. Activities and outings that once had meaning as a couple now have a whole new dimension as a family. Wings and fries nights are now family date nights and I'd never want to miss a "laugh 'til you cry" trip to the zoo. Long car romantic drives are now comandeered for "pil-loso-pee" discussions about the comings and goings of all things cows and dragons. As I type I'm listening over the monitor to my son click the cats into his room so they can "listen for a story". And there is nothing, absoultely nothing, more wonderful than watching John Ross teach his sister how to use the IPOD.

These are moments of my life that I will never get back. Perhaps that is why the Gospel of Matthew reminds us, "Do not worry about tomorrow...today has enough trouble of it's own."

Okay, Lord...but, I still miss those days.

"The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters."

It is time to find contendedness is the place my shepherd has led me. He has promised to lead me to safety, nourishment and rest. I must relish the gift of the moment. Five years from now I will find myself missing these days and wishing them back.

"God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose."

Amazing how something as unnerving as envy can take my heart through a beautiful scripture journey to a place where I can and should find contentment in God's providence. Now it is up to my free will and discipline to remain in the place of contentment.

Funeral Regrets

I recently had the opportunity to attend the funeral of one of my co-worker's fathers. He was a gentle man with a big heart. Though I had never met him, his love and devotion to his family was legendary. When I heard the stories of he and his wife, they were the small and warm gestures that any woman hopes for in her later years. Hand-holding, slow walks, and daily rituals marked the memories of his loved ones. He raised 12 children including a lovely woman with Down Syndrome.

 

However, all of these things could not get me beyond my fear of funerals. I know that death is a part of life and I believe in heaven, but something about funeral masses that seems so final. I know it is supposed to be a ritual release and celebration, but it seems so sad and the black seems anything but celebratory.

 

Kevin says that it is one of the greatest signs of respect and care for a person and their family. No amount of my believing this could get me out of my office chair that day. I regret it. I really do, but I just don't know if I would do it any differently if presented with the opportunity again.

 

I don't have an answer. God and I have to work on this one. In the meantime, I cooked a big meal and left it in the freezer for my co-worker's family.

 

Notes for future reference: No black at my funeral and no sappy "go with God" music. I want praise and worship and guitars...yes, guitars.

From Gratitude to Generosity

Now would seem like the most appropriate holiday to show you my completed art project. This is the wall in our dining room. Our family tree. Finally, this room is beginng to become uniquely ours as in our last.

I'm grateful for the each breath I take and the gift of each day I wake. I'm grateful for my husband who has become my second breath. I could not exist as the woman I am today without him. I'm grateful for my intelligent and energetic children who daily amaze and inspire me. I'm grateful for my sisters who will always know me better than anyone else (and for those women who've become like sisters to me and will spend the rest of their lives getting to know me despite myself). I'm grateful for my family. I'm grateful for a warm home and the great joy of cooking tasty food. I'm grateful to live in a free country where I can work, live, and play for the benefit of my family.

But gratitude is not enough. These amazing gifts require more from me. Not only am I to accept them grateful, but I must nurture them warmly and responsibly, I must share them with love, charity, and justice, and I must seek to return them to God abundantly.

"What return shall I make for all the good the LORD has done for me?" Psalm 116:12

Pro-life in a Foster Family

I am a foster sister and although I've mentioned it here from time to time, I offered a more thoughtful pro-life perspective on my journey over here. Please enjoy.

Kids at Mass - Part 2

I have a great follow up to the post that I wrote about a month ago about kids at Mass.

We were asked to be the Godparents to a wonderful little gal who has a special place in my heart. We celebrated the baptism recently and we were so blessed to be with her family that day. However, when we walked into church the community may not have felt so initially blessed to have us.

Picture this...big echoing church, 7 children ages 3 and under, 8:30 Mass...Suffice it to say, our families hair color did not match the majority of those in the congregation for this Mass.

As parents, we were sweating it. I was just praying that mine didn't decide the throw her head back in protest in the middle of the baptism and konk her head on the font...I do believe a comment was made in jest about repeating the other kiddos baptisms (which isn't canonically sound, by the way, once you're baptized, that's it!) or perhaps considering an exorcism!

There were a few outbursts and a few anxious moments, but overall the kids did beautifully! After a particularly long Mass (1.5) hours we didn't have anyone giving us the stink eye and we had a new member of the Church!!!

After Mass we were taking pictures. After all, how often are our two families actually dressed to the nines with our hair done??? As we were heading down the aisle with the priest to take our photos we were both commenting on how well the kids did and the priest looked at us and said,

"Your kids did wonderfully. Kids are our future. We cannot be a pro-life church and complain about how much noise they make or how they need to be breastfed at Mass. We can't speak out both sides of our mouth. As for me, I can always talk louder than they can. And that's the end of my sermon." And he said it all with a big smile.

Wow...what an affirmation. For a couple of families that regularly struggle with our beautiful children in Mass there couldn't have possibly been a more powerful statement made.

Frankly, I'd considered driving 45 minutes each weekend to be a part of that priest's congregation.

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!

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...:)

The Tale of My Wedding Dress

I recently read a beautiful tale of two wedding dresses over at Falling Upward blog and it got me to thinking about my own wedding dress. I thought I'd share.

Kevin proposed to me 3 weeks before I was laid off. If we hadn't been engaged our story may have been very different. I was alone in Green Bay with 18 months of work experience in a field I had no education in and I was locked into an apartment lease. My unemployment payments barely covered my rent and my meager savings would only have lasted a few months. If it hadn't been for our engagement, I very well may have moved back to Ohio where my parents were living at the time.

Instead, unemployed and engaged in a strange city, Kevin paid my other bills while we looked for another job. I was laid off right before the economy turned and so the market was already beginning to slow. I spent the entire 7 months we were engaged looking for jobs and doing decorating projects on Kevin's house. Two months before our wedding my landlord was able to lease my apartment to someone new and I moved into the upstairs bedroom at Kevin's house. While you most certainly can insert judgements here, it was the reality of our situation and I don't believe in making up stories to keep people reading.

Suffice it to say, our engagement was a joyfully cautious time. Without a job it was hard to make decisions about a wedding that would cost money. We kept things very simple. Our guest list was 40 people and we hosted a dinner at a local restaurant. Because it was so small, there was some frustration and hurt from others who assumed they would be guests. So, instead of being happy for us many of our family members voiced upset and anger.

When it came to the dress, while I wanted to look beautiful on my wedding day it didn't really seem to matter at the time. My mom was in a place in her life and my sisters were at an age that they were not able to come and be with me as I made the decision on a dress. I set a very modest budget and knew that I couldn't EVER justify spending more on a dress that I would wear for a few hours. My future sister-in-law and niece went with me to try on dresses. That in itself is slightly amusing because my sister-in-law is pretty far from a girly-girl.

I tried on several that I thought I would like and didn't and finally settle on a simple, no train, strapless beaded gown with a sweetheart neckline. I would have prefered to wear something with straps for Mass, my budget didn't really gift me that option in a style that otherwise flattered me. I didn't have it lengthened because I wore flats and I didn't want a veil. I bought a corset and jewelry and made my clutch to match. Since dinner was scheduled for before the ceremony I also made an ivory cocktail dress to wear for dinner.

By the time the wedding day arrived I had gained a few stress pounds and was grateful for the corset and the relief of an a-line gown. We were running late and I dove into my gown and slapped on some fresh lipstick about 10 minutes before Mass.

I didn't feel stunning or show-stopping. I don't even feel like it was the most beautiful day of my life.

Against my dad's recommendation, I didn't carry flowers. He was worried about my hands shaking from nerves and needing something to hold onto.

But in the end, the second I took my dad's arm and look down the aisle at my future I felt loved. Knowing that we had already thrived despite one of the hardest experiences in life gave me a sense of confidence and security that overcame all of my superficial insecurities about my appearance.

As I took that first step all of the worldly things that tradionally mattered didn't any more. I was beautiful and I was loved. I was marrying a man that was going to stand by me and love me no matter what I was wearing or how pretty my hair looked. I was marrying a man whose only care was to see me wear a smile.

Today my dress hangs in my closet. I have every intention of wearing it again. I am currently on the hunt for a seamstress that will convert my simple a-line gown into a cocktail dress for our 5th anniversary. I plan to hold onto the extra fabric to incorporate into my children's wedding garments. At the time the dress didn't really matter, but today it is symbol of our fidelity, our perserverance, and the simple beauty of our love. It is a symbol and dare I say a"sacramentary" to be passed on to future generations in love and fidelity.

An Explanation of Grace

I recently had grace explained to me in a very beautiful way and I wanted to share.

God is perfect. God is like the highest rung of a ladder.

We spend our entire lives practicing perfection and trying to be Christ-like. We reach the first rung, the secong rung, and maybe the third rung. Sometimes we go down a rung.

Grace is the space between the rungs that God takes care of by reaching down and taking our hand. Grace is when we do our best and God makes up the difference.