15 Months + 30 Years Equals Childhood

I always say that 15 months is when my life changes with a baby. Thomas has been no different. At the end of this month we will hit the 15 month milestone. He is walking, indicating needs, calling me mama, and feeding himself. He is as much joy and contentment as he was as a newborn. He brings so much light to our lives.

Next month marks another milestone for us as our beautiful Clara starts school. I will put two of my children on the bus each morning and spend a few blessed hours with my baby and my house. Never before have I had this blessing, challenging as it may be sometimes.

This year would have been so different if it weren't for the unexpected arrival of our Thomas. I would be working outside the home. I would be contemplating a move to full time. We would still have a nanny. The kitchen cabinets would not be refinished...

Because of the open nature of our marriage and my womb, our lives have been changed in such a miraculous way. I am now home with my children. I am now more present to their lives. Because I am now home during the day, my career as a writer and speaker has taken off in directions beyond my wildest dreams. My health has never been better in my adult life.

Today I sit in the visitor center of The Shrine of Our Lady of Guadalupe in La Crosse, Wisconsin. I am preparing to give a retreat for the executive board of Catholic Charities, La Crosse. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine this as part of my life.

But my Lord did.

As I turn 30 this year, so many things have settled in my heart and become the focus of my prayer life. 30 so far seems to be the decade of reflection and reconciliation. We've lost some dear friends this year and come closer to others. We have been called to face the mortality of our loved ones and the mortality of ourselves. The great blessing in reflecting on our limited humanness is the opportunity to remember God generosity, God's provision, and God's fortifying love.

Since losing a dear friend in June I've spent a great deal of time reflecting on those in my life who have impacted the woman I am today. Two weeks before his death I ran into him while dining at a local restaurant with my children and mother-in-law. He bought our dinner, unbeknownst to us, until the bill arrived. I thanked him, Clara gave him a drawing and we went on our way with a light quip about lunch sometime soon. About a week later, I drove past the parish where we'd worked together and saw his vehicle out front. I considered stopping to talk, but told myself I'd do it later. A week later, he had gone to our Lord. It is one of those moments I will never forget; one of those missed opportunities that will stay with me forever.

As such, I'm making it a point to feel more in my 30s. My husband regularly reminds me that I need to trust God and follow my heart, not the way society tells my heart it should be feeling. In the past 20 years I've left so many things unsaid. Raised to move around, I've left so many relationships unfinished. It is only now that I am beginning to appreciate the person God created me to be. It is only in the present moment, stable and supported, that I have truly begun to appreciate the awkward, precocious, curious, and genuine young woman of my youth. My adolescent emotions and anxiety had validity. These experiences make me authentic and I must not go forgetting them or pretending they didn't happen. I've already spent too many years running away and then trying to catch up to whom I really am. I'm tired of starting over.

I want my daughter to know authenticity. I want her to trust her heart at any age. I want my son to recognize, name, and embrace his "old soul" in a way I wish I had. I want my baby to forever live in his simple joy of risk. I want to protect them, but I want them to grow to love their own identity and their own place in this world, unmasked by my fear and trepidation.

God guides our hearts if only we take time to listen. It's easy to talk. It's hard to listen. As a child, I was a great listener. When I found myself no longer heard, my ability to listen diminished, leaving me vulnerable, confused and broken. When I married Kevin, my voice once again took on sound and I am now in a place where I need to practice the art of listening once again. I must re-learn listening so that I can grow in Faith, Hope, and Love.

Matthew 18:1-5 "At that time the disciples approached Jesus and said, "Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?" He called a child over, placed it in their midst, and said, "Amen, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever receives one child such as this in my name receives me.""

I having been hearing God's call in this passage for the past few months. 30 marks a new childhood for me. I must embrace this time with my young children and husband as a time to not only example, but practice these childlike arts. I am being called to fill myself up with knowledge and experiences like a child. I am being called to practice once again the genuine love, innocent trust, and fearless abandonment of my childhood. It is time to laugh like Christ and the little child.

I am excited and I am grateful. I miss my dear friend, but I'm in debt to him for being an example of Christ's selfless, ever-giving love and for inspiring me to embrace the Christ child within.

"Come, sit, and tell stories of those loved."

 

 

 

 

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Stay-at-Home Sacrifice: It's NOT all Bunny Rabbits and Roses!

This is what summer is for!

I probably should have been blogging through our massive family transition, if for no reason other than to record it for myself, but alas, I didn't feel much like writing.

I announced it on Facebook, shared it with family and friends, and processed it with anyone who would listen, but I couldn't write about it.

In November, our dear nanny decided she needed to be spending more time with her kiddos. I respect that and am grateful that we had the kind of relationship that allowed her to say so. Since then she has taken time to spend days with Clara and Thomas and given this mama a break once in awhile. We are so grateful for all that she gave and gives to our family.

As a result, Kevin and I had to figure out what to do. With John Ross in school half days and the two littles still at home, finding help and a workable schedule was not easy. After some trial and error, we decided it was time for me to stay home. Working for the church didn't offer the kind of monetary value that allowed us to hire another sitter and give us any additional take home income. Why work to pay the nanny to raise our children? (There is a whole other blog post in there somewhere...an institution that takes the moral high ground on family life, but doesn't provide a living wage or family-friendly benefits like paid family leave.) In addition, here are some things we had to come to terms with in light of our decision:

Always with the tongue!

1. This was God's plan.I tried to explain this to my pastor. I wouldn't have chosen this. If it had been up to me, I would have stayed working the limited hours and limited responsibility job at my parish. I came in, worked, and went home. It was a good break for my head and a good way to appreciate my children. I didn't make much after paying my nanny, but it was worth it. I wouldn't have chosen this drastic course correction, but it was given to us. Everything leading up to this decision was God. We are very much at peace with our decision despite the monumentous adjustments it has required. We are trusting in God's providence.

My first little love.

2. We are grateful.There has been so much peace in our household. I've completed chores on a weekly basis that hadn't been fully complete since John Ross was born. I've gotten into a routine with my two littles which has been invaluable. I've been able to commit hours each week to my physical and mental health with the gift of a YMCA membership from my family. I can slow down and appreciate these fleeting moments with my children and provide more fully for my husband's needs. We are so grateful for this gift.

3. Contrary to popular belief, staying home is not all bunny rabbits and tulips.This is God's plan, we are at peace, and we are grateful, but this is hard. I have several friends who have walked the journey of working outside the home with me for the last 5 years and I so often hear, "It must just be so much easier. I'm so jealous."

Yes, there are times when it is easier. I'm not pushed out the door by a schedule and I'm not rushing home to get dinner on the table during the famous witching hour. My laundry gets done. I don't always have to shower or get dressed in the morning.

But I am always on. There is no physical or mental break. There is no change of mental pace or shift in the demographic I serve. I can't leave it at the office. At work, projects come to an end. At an office, I can close the door. On the phone, the conversation wraps up. At home, the house is never clean, the kids are never ready, there is always another meal and another load of laundry. The closets don't stay clean. There is always needs and you are considered on the job 24/7. When you're working, you get a few hours where ultimately, you're still the top executive of your household, but you've got a director below you managing for awhile.

Again, thankful, grateful, blessed, and honored to have the "luxury", as many call it, of choosing to stay home. That said, I would contest that it isn't much easier than working outside the home.(And for the record, it's hard to blog about something when the only feedback you get on your thoughts is in non-sense all toddler song, baby babble, or Star Wars speak.)

4. We must live with less.We have had to make a lot of mental and financial adjustments. The small amount of money I was bringing in was our "mad money". It allowed us to do extra things like traveling, eating out, and little shopping splurges. We've had to take a closer look at everything we buy. We've done a lot of repurposing, reselling, and rummaging.

Recently, I received a check for some freelance work that I did with a note saying "Buy yourself something nice!" While the sentiment was lovely and thoughtful, there is no extra in our life. We live paycheck to paycheck, making every effort to keep our savings account intact.

If it looks the same on the outside, that is a huge testament to the sheer amount of work we have done to maintain our life despite our financial changes. It is also testament to the generosity of others, our families and those who have generously given their time and "cast offs" to help our family thrive.

3 kids born in Green Bay, it's about time we get to family night!

I say this not because I care what my blog readers and friends think of us. We have made a commitment to a way of life that God called us to and we are at peace.

I write this because I know there are other moms and couples out there that have made similar choices and perhaps can't put them into words. How many of us have worked tirelessly to create a beautiful, peaceful and loving life, but because the grass is always greener, others believe that we're just "lucky"?

No, we are called. We are gifted. We have responded to God's invitation to co-create, sometimes not knowing the sacrifice He is going to ask of us.

And yet, we are so blessed.

 

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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.

Introducing...

Baby Boerschinger #3! At least in the womb...See you in May Baby!

Despite some initial concerns, the specialist thinks the baby looks great. Baby is about 11 oz. now and about the length of a banana. The main reason she thinks I can't feel a lot of movement is because baby stays pretty curled up on one side. Pike position or knees tucked up with arms across its face. It moved a lot on the ultrasound, but I didn't feel any of it. Heart and blood flow looks great.



Little face...long forehead like John Ross!



Long toes! It's a Krogh!

My favorite...little legs crossed up so sweet!

The kids were with us and excited to see the baby "wave" to them!

John Ross' forehead, Clara's little cheek bones!

It seems to be pretty shy. Maybe a quiet one???

Never had 3D before. It was pretty neat!

A Contented Return

Well readers, it's been awhile. Pictures are below for those of you used to being greeted by a photo...:)

I am not dead, depressed, or otherwise wasted away in depths of despair. Actually, I've been wallowing in a time of re-prioritization and discernment. I've been enjoying some major changes made to our life this past spring.

Last summer I made a career move from the pastoral area of stewardship to the pastoral area of faith formation. While I love planning and teaching, I did not much enjoy the drama and grind of that type of position. Students are tired, parents are unkind and demanding, and quite frankly nights and weekends were doing permanent damage to my children. "Bye mama, daddy's staying home so you go to a meeting," on nights when I didn't have one scheduled was way too tough. We spent late nights and weekends recovering from our weeks and my husband, supportive and loving as he was, was being worn down by all the time we spent apart and caring for children alone.

After lots of tears and struggles, bouts with depression, and parish politics, we decided that I needed to watch for a new position. Lo and behold, the perfect position popped up quite out of the blue. 3 days a week I work as a communications secretary for another local parish. Plenty of time for family, diocesan work and writing without the drama of nights, weekends, or parents.

The transformation has been incredible and affirming. My children are better behaved, my patience a bit thicker, and my marriage has never been better. My house stays cleaner, I feel no guilt about stopping mid-task to read books to my snuggly little Sappa, and even my waistline seems to have halted its outward march. Last night, for the first time in a long time I joined a friend for a drink downtown after 7pm! Whoo-hoo!

I've found myself not only more attentive to the needs and persons of my friends and family, but more responsive and more generous. I've been able to put a more positive spin on life in general and helped my family to do the same.

I work a few less hours, took a paycut, and now pay my nanny more, but I wouldn't change any of it to protect what I've rediscovered. I truly feel the balance is back in my vocations. I know not everyone is able to make this kind of change, but I am blessed that my husband and I were able to trust my gut (although reluctantly at times) and see this new phase of our life through.

It's not easy to make the right choice. There are moments when I wonder about my potential, my career, my achievement. There are moments when I think, "Really? 16 years of schooling for this?" and then I remember that no corporate or pastoral achievement can be compared to the responsibility of caring for the souls entrusted to our parental care. No planning meeting compares to a meaningful discussion about heaven with a 3-year-old. Both important, but in this season of my life, God has called me to join him on the lakeshore next to a curious little boy and a dead fish.

The day will come when they won't need me as much. The day will come when God will call me to serve his church in a deeper capacity again. By that time, I will have gained the wisdom of parenthood and the understanding and compassion of married life. I will be that much more equipped to serve God's people on their journeys. I'm not losing anything by stepping back for a few years. I am gaining those foundational years with my little ones and my husband. I have been gifted by God with time to shore up our foundation and build a house on rock with Him.

Build a house of God's love around your children and they will become shelters of God's love for the world.

Here are just a few photos from our very blessed summer so far.

The Men in My Life: Dad, Grandpa, Hubby

Me and the Hubby Relaxing at the Lake

My Little Fish!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Man of Our Dreams out for Pizza

Fourth of July Fun

Riding on the Wagon behind the Tractor

Sassy Sissy and Sappa-Lou

It was the dream of his life to play with his trucks in the sand.

Pizza Man right after he checked out the dead fish.

Love this photo with Auntie Sissy!

Auntie Ana hates little kids eating habits, but who can resist that face???

Here she's got a co-captain, but my daughter doned her own life jacket and struck out in her own little boat with mama swimming behind! Highlight anyone???

My Absence: Not Intentional, Just Cluttered

Well, it's been awhile. It's not that I haven't had anything to talk about. Just the opposite: there's been WAY TOO MUCH to talk about and I've been too overwhelmed to write.

I've got three different posts started, but they get stuck between my head and my fingers. The obstacle in their path is my heart.

The other day I walked into my boss's office while she was having a casual conversation with our pastor. I said something about "after this, things will calm down" and she responded, "you're always saying that, but things never seem to calm down."

As if on cue our pastor responds, "Not this side of the grave it won't."

That is when it occurred to me. Only in Heaven will I find peace from the chaos. However, we are all on a journey to Heaven. On that journey there must be a way to create a life that reflects the peace and joy of God's Kingdom since that is what we have our eyes on. One would like to believe that God would allow to at least practice, if not perfect that type of order and joy. It is only with a clear head, heart, and home that I can create that peaceful mental space for myself and my family.

This Lent, I believe I have a calling. It is a calling that has been percolating since we moved. It is a call to truly simplify. In addition to our annual pantry clearing Lenten efforts, I will be purging closets, dressers, storage spaces and cupboards in an attempt to de-clutter our physical spaces and reinvigorate our mental spaces. Perhaps by Easter we can celebrate a little bit of Heaven on this side of the grave.

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

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 Last Bottle...

Clara will drink her final bottle at lunch today while I am at the office. It is a very bittersweet moment for this mama.

As a pro-life Catholic family we are regularly discerning our family size. With two children 2 and under we are at a place in our co-creation where we believe that God agrees that we need, at least, a break.

Clara is 1 and my cycles have just returned to normal (telling me that physically my body is just now ready to consider the option again) and I am still 15 pounds from my healthy weight. It is important to us that I always start another pregnancy from a healthy physical place since carrying another life for 10 months takes a toll on even the healthiest body.

Moreover, I believe that my vocation in life is three-fold. My vocations are as a wife, a mother and a lay minister to the church. I have just taken on the role of lifelong learning coordinator at my parish which will see my hours increasing in service to our faith community. While this does not come before my call to family life, it is definitely a part of who God calls me to be. I need to spend some time answering that part of my call as we discern when and if God, Kevin and I are called to adding another life to our family.

I often wonder if I/we are open enough to life. Just using NFP as a family planning method doesn't make a family open to life because NFP can be used with as much contraceptive mentality as artificial contraceptive methods. While we know that we would always lovingly accept a new life, planned or otherwise, it does not excuse us from evaluating our perspective and use of NFP. We must pray and discern regularly and consistently about how we are supporting and accepting life in our marriage. This includes considerations like new life, quality life, support of our extended families, and participation in our community.

How does this all connect to "the last bottle"? Well, my deep sadness over my sweet little girl's last bottle tells me that I am in fact still open to life. If I found myself celebrating and rejoicing that I would never have to make or wash another bottle I would have to really examine my feelings about adding life to our family. It is in my melancholy that I find God's affirmation and in that I take great comfort.

A Home for Nuthatches

I'm sitting in my dining room this morning working on an assortment of tasks from bills to parishioner welcome cards. One of my sitters likes to pull back the sheer curtain on our front window so that the kids can watch the cars while they eat lunch. Yesterday she didn't put it back and so I'm looking out onto our front yard and the busy street.

A couple of years ago, Kevin decided to overhaul the landscaping in our front yard. His dad is in the landscaping business and has a large nursery of various plants not too far from here. During this particular project, Kevin decided to transplant a less-then-thriving weeping mulberry that he had rescued from his grandmother's home before they sold it. It has since taken root and thrived in our front yard.

It is a small but beautifully melancholy tree. Most people wouldn't give it a second thought and we both fear as we try to sell our house that the new owners won't appreciate it's history. It really wouldn't survive another transplant and so we must reluctantly leave it behind.

As I looked out at our mulberry today I spotted two new residents: a pair of nuthatches. As they bopped and hopped their way around the small tree I felt a deep sense of sadness that they were moving in just as we are (hopefully) moving out. I watched them poke their bodies into a knot as they cleaned out a little space of their own.

As I watched them diligently go about their task and heard them peep cheerfully, I realized that God was sending me a sign. No matter where we go and when we get there, we too will carve out our little space in the world. We too will create a safe and soft place for our family to grow. And while we may not be able to take it with us, our mulberry tree (and its residents) are part of our legacy of love at this home. We hope that our love of this place will bless the new residents.

Please keep our family in prayer as we wait for a buyer to secure financing for our home. We are living in limbo since we can't make decisions about a new home until we are certain that someone can buy this one. We ask for patience and peace, but are also so grateful for this experience. It has allowed us to more fully enter into the season of Lent and the waiting for new life at Easter.

Why God Created Pomegranates

It has been a busy week around here. We hosted a 5-course wine and cheese tasting for my co-workers at the parish. Christmas is really rough on all parish staff and most events in December are just an extra thing on the calendar. This event was for all of us to get together, drink, eat, and laugh. There were about 10 people and the menu included curried butternut soup, beef roast, potatoes 3-ways, and a trio of sumptuous desserts. A lovely time was had by all, but especially by my creative side!!! This was another great consequence of my exit from Facebook!

An event I was supposed to speak at this weekend was rescheduled which was a wonderful treat! Instead of a Saturday away from my family we had breakfast together and visited a local farm who was hosting their annual "seed day". This farm offers community supported agriculture (CSA). We toured the farm and said hello the their chickens, dog, and beef cattle. We tasted some wonderful canned goods from last year's harvest and signed up for a half share of produce for the next growing season! We are all set to receive a box of produce a week starting in early June and running through the end of the harvest!! We are very excited to support local produce farming and enjoy some free range chicken and eggs!!! It was great to have some say in what was going to be planted this year!!!

We returned home a bit late for lunch. We were well into naptime by the time I got John Ross in his chair and although I fed him in stages to help prevent a meltdown, I was only mildly successful. As he worked on his grilled cheese, I was trying to peel a pomegranate (yes, I know...pomegranate? Not exactly local produce...more on my view on that in a later post) and remove the pareils. Amidst his yelling and whining I found myself saying to Kevin, "God created pomegranates simply to frustrate humans. I bet He just sits up there and chuckles!"

Kevin responded, "No, God created pomegranates to teach humans patience."

Farms and Barns and the Love of God

I find myself travelling to the far reaches of our diocese about once a month. While it can sometimes be a bit intimidating to navigate the small country roads, I find great joy in my solitary drives and the simplicity of the wholesome country I drive through.

After today's presentation at a church in Sturgeon Bay, I hopped back in the car with my eyes set on the road less taken. My destination: A little farm market near Algoma, Wisconsin. My goal: The final items for a local Christmas food basket.

After finding my items (and shhh...a few extra that will come in handy for tomorrow's celebration of the Feast of St. Nicholas), I found myself taking county road after country road to make my way back to the highway. Hands bundled in mittens with Bing Crosby crooning "Adeste Fideles", I drove past family farm after family barn. A light blustering of snowflakes accompained me as I drove and thought about a simpler time.

I reminiced the days of my youth when we lived out in the country and used to take drives to see family friends. How I loved the dark drives home with warm cocoa in our bellies and Garrison Keillor on the radio. The only lights were barn spotlights and the colorful holiday lights of some of our country neighbors. When the show was over, Dad would switch on the crackling remastering of Bing Crosby on CD. I would look out the car window at the stars and find myself wondering where God was "up there". How was it that Jesus was born? How did Jesus get from Heaven to earth? How could I possibly celebrate the birth of Jesus when it was so long ago?

Then we would arrive home. Mom would open the door and the cold chill of the winter wind would come rushing in and the overhead car light would sharply interrupt the dark quiet that had taken root in my soul. My mind was drawn to the practical things of finding my shoes, helping my younger sisters to the house, and making my way to bed without a fuss.

Nowadays, I live in that place of "practical things" more often than I would like. A college degree, a marriage, a home, and two children later, I find less and less time for the wonderings, and wanderings, of life. I suppose to some knowledge and experience brings comfort and a sense of preparation for the unexpected. Much as a cherish my education and the journey of my life thus far, I find that the more I learn the less I realize I know. Frankly, the less I want to know.

Today God and I got to talk like we used to talk. I asked my Father questions and He listened patiently, tangents and all, and offered His perspective. I simply got to be...to be loved...and to love back in all wonder.

What a great gift as we approach the feast of St. Nicholas. What a great gift indeed.

The "To-do" List

Did you know that the tasks on your “to-do” list are acts of stewardship? Not only are they great acts of service, but the acts of tending to your needs and the needs of others are an important piece of tending your garden of relationships. Let’s look at a few items from my “honey-do” list.

Item and Impact
Laundry - An easier morning for my family members picking out clothing
Taxes - A mommy who isn’t in tears at 11:59p.m. on April 14th, 2010
Wedding Favors - A sister/auntie who can focus on her nursing boards instead of what color ribbon to tie around her chocolate-dipped biscotti
Swiffer - No mice, no slips, and a pleasant and peaceful smell to welcome all who enter our home Write Bulletin Article - An honest look into life from one Christian to another.
We CAN do this!

It is important that we look upon our to-do lists, honey or otherwise, with eyes of stewardship. These tasks are important to our well-being and the well-being of others. By completing these tasks we make our lives on the journey less cluttered and allow more room to fill ourselves with God’s joy and more peace to seek God’s will.