Thursday, February 25, 2010

Praying the Laundry

Before getting ready for work yesterday I pulled a load of laundry out of the dryer to fold. Sometimes, when I think of it, I whisper a brief prayer for the owner of the particular article of clothing I happen to be folding. This basketful of clothes belonged exclusively to Megan. I didn't immediately think about offering prayer, but as I mindlessly began folding her collection of T-shirts I realized that I could actually use them to reflect on God's Word. I did utter my customary prayer for her, and then I began pondering the words sprawled across the fronts and backs of these shirts. I thought about all the T-shirts teens choose to wear these days and how the words on my daughter's shirts truly defined her. Like most teens, she relishes time spent with friends, spends too much time on Facebook and texting, enjoys outings to the movies and the mall. She seems obsessed at times with her weight, her complexion and her hairstyle. She loves contemporary music, singing and dancing. She struggles sometimes with schoolwork - agonizes over tests and challenging writing assignments. But mostly she strives to be a child of God. I am grateful that she shares everything with me, but I am even more grateful that she converses regularly with Our Lord. This may not be considered cool by some of her contemporaries, but she remains close to Him. To her that's the coolest thing ever.

Here is a sampling of Megan's T-shirt wisdom ...
"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation: the old one has gone, the new has come!" 2 Corinthians 5:17
"I LIVE by FAITH in the Son of GOD who has LOVED me and GIVEN himself up for me." Gal 2:20.
"The one who has hope lives differently." Pope Benedict XVI
"Live the Word" (Catholic Diocese of Arlington WorkCamp slogan)
"Your WORD is a LAMP to MY FEET and a LIGHT for my PATH." Psalm 119:105.
And finally, the words written on a sweatshirt borrowed from her older sister, Erin (one of Megan's biggest role models) ...
"Each time anyone comes in contact with us, they must become different and better people because of having met us. We must radiate God's love." Mother Teresa. 

Monday, February 22, 2010

Kreeft on Boredom

Here are a few more nuggets from Peter Kreeft's Jesus-Shock. Part Two: The Data: Jesus Shock:

"I think Jesus is the only man in history who never bored anyone. ... Since Jesus was the only man in history who never bored anyone, it follows that if your Jesus is boring, your Jesus is not the real Jesus. If it's a tame lion, it's not Aslan."

"Habitual boredom, boredom not with a specific task like chopping wood ten hours a day but with everything, not only leads to sin; it is a sin. The medievals called it "sloth," one of the Seven Deadly Sins. Sloth is not simply laziness. In fact, it does not necessarily imply any physical laziness at all. It means the passivity and inactivity of the will and the desires even in the presence of the true good. It is the soul's refusal to eat its food. Violence is spiritual junk food, and boredom is spiritual anorexia."

"What is the opposite of boredom? Not pleasure, not even happiness, but joy. Joy always includes surprise, sometimes even shock. Joy's opposites - rage, outrage, horror, and terror - are also shocks. Those who meet Jesus always experience either joy or its opposites, either foretastes of Heaven or foretastes of Hell. Not everyone who meets Jesus is pleased, and not everyone is happy, but everyone is shocked." Think about it - it's true!

Kreeft maintains that "everything God does is a surprise." For example, consider creation: "For in creation, the God who is everything and needs nothing acts as if He needs everything. ... God is not reasonable, in any human, expected sense." He creates spiritual persons - angels. And man. And he gives man "free will and lets him choose between Himself and Satan, Heaven and Hell, light and darkness, life and death. It is no charade: if we choose the Enemy, He lets us do it, and respects our freedom - forever."

Kreeft goes on to explain how 'crazy' it was for God to become man. Not only that, but He became a "human zygote, fetus, baby, boy, teenager, man, and then a corpse." And then there's this gem - "And then He gave Himself to our mouths and our stomachs as well as to our souls. That thing that looks like a little piece of bread - that's Him. I certainly sympathize with most Protestants, who do not believe that. It is nearly unbelievable. The priest puts God into your left hand, and you pick up God Almighty with your right thumb and forefinger and you swallow God Almighty, and He falls into your stomach. That is crazy - as crazy as the Incarnation."

"This is 99.9999999999 percent unbelievable. Like the Incarnation. This baby who can't even speak until his parents teach him, this man who has nerve endings all over his body and gets hungry and tired and bloody and gets nailed to a cross and dies - that is the "holy God, holy strong one, holy immortal one, "the eternal Word of the eternal Creator Who spoke all time and space and matter into being."

Wow!! How crazy in love is He with us! ♥ How merciful! How NOT boring!

Next time - a little of what Kreeft says about 'presence'  ...

Friday, February 19, 2010

My Lenten Resolution

Have you ever found yourself in a situation where you are listening to two people talk about you as if you weren't sitting right there in front of them? (Parents do this a lot. Kids hate it. "Why are you talking about me as if I'm not even here?!") Most of us agree that it's impolite, if not down right rude. But I think we do it to Jesus all the time.  

In his book, Jesus-Shock, Peter Kreeft writes,
"You talk to someone present, not to someone absent. And you talk about someone absent, not about someone present, unless you are very impolite."
Kreeft continues ...
"We are all a little like the theologian who died and was given the choice, by God, between going to Heaven or going to a lecture on Heaven, and he chose the lecture."
How I love to talk about Jesus! But I think I need to spend less time talking about Him and more time talking to Him. 

So, not only have I given up sweets for Lent, I resolve to include everyone (seen and unseen)  in the conversation; to talk to Jesus more than I talk about Him, and to listen to Him, too. After all, it's the polite thing to do and it may even benefit my soul!

Let me add this - if your spiritual life could use a little CPR, I highly recommend Jesus-Shock. This little book by Peter Kreeft is jam-packed with wisdom. It is simple; yet profound and will not disappoint, I promise.


Tuesday, February 16, 2010

In Sickness and in Health. A Love Story.

Something I share with my mom that perhaps most mothers and daughters do not, is that we were both married in the same year. My wedding happened in the spring of 1985; my mother's in December. 

She was his secretary and they had both lost their spouses. His wife had died of cancer in February; her husband of heart disease the following February. Their broken hearts moved them from a professional relationship to a personal one. A friendship was born out of mutual sorrow; their shoulders bore each other's grief. Soon the friendship turned into courtship and then to a commitment to spend the rest of their lives together. Newlyweds in the autumn of their lives. The wedding was a beautiful celebration of a new beginning; a rising above heartache and finding joy once more.

All seven of her children opened their hearts and lives to him and he welcomed them into his own. He became the grandfather my own children would know affectionately as Papa Ern. He was and is and will always be their Papa.

Our lives have all been blessed by his presence, but she has truly benefited more. He has been there for her when she's needed him the most. Not one for living a solitary life, she is so grateful to God for providing  this opportunity to experience marital love and companionship for nearly twenty-five years. I am grateful, too. 

For the past several months he has not been well. Through it all - the trips back and forth to the hospital, the sleepless nights, the celebrations of small signs of improvement - she is there. Loving him in sickness and in health. It has not been easy, but love carries her along. Love lifts her on His wings, giving her strength and perseverance and the knowing that she's not alone. And we are with her, too, her children, his children, never ceasing to pray.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Blizzards and Tarp Babies

We have broken a record here in the Washington DC region. This winter season has dumped 72 inches of snow at Dulles International Airport which is right here in my neck of the woods. The Blizzard of 2010 - serving up a one-two punch with over 30 inches of snow falling last Friday and Saturday followed by another 10 or so inches again today - has paralyzed the area. The Federal Government has been closed since Monday. Many other local jurisdictions (including the one I work for) have closed down and many businesses are shut down, as well as all three major airports. Fairfax County is under a state of emergency. Most schools have thrown in the towel and decided to close for the remainder of the week. Big snowstorms - especially record breakers - here in northern Virginia are exciting! The views outside our living room windows are breathtaking! The chatter on Facebook is all about the Blizzard of 2010 and the measure of snow being shoveled is astonishing as evidenced by the many photos friends have posted. Initially, many folks were grateful for the time off and have enjoyed hunkering down with their families and neighbors. But now after several days of being cooped up, some without power, folks are going a little stir crazy. If you can manage to get out, the driving conditions are deplorable and dangerous. Kids are bored, missing their friends and parents are anxious to get them back to school and get themselves back to work. Most folks are ready for life to return to normal and are looking forward to the first signs of spring. 

Me? I'm just so dreadfully weary of television reporters measuring snow with yard sticks outside their studios and clamoring on and on and on about roads not plowed and about the droves of customers emptying grocery store shelves faster than they can be restocked. One wonders if there is anything else going on in the world! And then my daughter sends me the link to her brother-in-law's blog and I am reminded that there is. We may be cold, we may be snowbound and we may be whining because the Starbucks down the street didn't open today, but it's got to be better than putting your baby to bed on a tarp every night.

I invite you to take some time when the thought of  playing yet another board game makes your head spin or when channel surfing leads to despair, to please read Doug's blog. And please remember to pray for the people of Haiti; for all those who suffer still and all those who are there offering medical, material, practical and spiritual aid. 

Doug's Blog: Tarp Babies of Haiti

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Sunday, February 7, 2010

Snow and Friendship

All weather is perfect, because God makes it. - St. Teresa of Avila

It has been quite a winter here in northern Virginia. In December we had a remarkable 20 inch snowfall ... bringing with it a little Christmas spirit! There had been a rather small snowfall earlier in the month and a few since, until this past weekend, when the Washington D.C. metro area received the mother of all snowfalls. School was canceled for Megan on Friday in anticipation of the storm, so I decided it was best to drive 'her' car, our all wheel drive Subaru Forrester to work just in case the roads proved slippery on my trek home. The first few flakes began to fall as I was pulling out of my driveway. The level of snowfall picked up throughout the morning, but because temperatures were hovering just above freezing nothing much was sticking to the roads. By 1:00 I had heard that the temperature was likely to start dropping so, I decided it was time to hit the road, besides I was developing a nagging sinus headache. The drive home - all 3.5 miles - was uneventful. By sundown the snow began falling harder, the temperature was dropping and our street was transformed into a ribbon of white. It was time to hunker down and enjoy what weather forecasters were calling an historic storm. I'm somewhat of a weather junkie, so I stayed tuned to the local news channels all evening long. I have never seen the meteorologists so giddy. I have to admit their enthusiasm was contagious. I called my brother, another 'weather freak' to report on our progress. "A foot already!" I informed him - that was around 10:30 p.m. I finally crawled into bed around midnight after snapping the last of my snow photos of the day. I wondered, as I dozed off to sleep, what our little piece of the world would look like tomorrow. I could hardly wait!

The snow was blowing harder than ever when I awoke the next morning. Our 4 month old dachshund, Holly needed to go out to do her business, so I grabbed the shovel and cleared a spot for her in the garden in front of the porch. As quickly as I cleared a patch, it filled right back up with snow. She ended up doing her business right there on the snow covered floor of our porch. Okay, by me. At least it happened outside!

All day long the snow poured down, sometimes at the rate of 2 to 3 inches per hour. When all was said and done - after 30.5 hours of continuous snowfall - we ended up with over 30 inches in our yard. Dulles International Airport located about 7 miles west, officially recorded 32.4 inches - so that's probably a pretty accurate estimation of what fell in our yard, too. As I headed off to bed after a long day, the stars were shimmering high in the night sky, promising a perfect day ahead.

Not only was I greeted early this morning with Holly's wet, precious, puppy kisses, but also by the most stunning sight outside my window. The post-storm sky was crisp and clear. The branches of trees heavy with snow were bathed in the low glow of the sun just peeking over the horizon. Except for a few birds flitting about enjoying their breakfast at our feeder, everything was perfectly still and beautiful. I thought about God's gift of creation and breathed a prayer of grateful appreciation. To Him all the glory!

As I finish this post, I'm reminded of my prayer early this season, "Please Lord permit us to have at least one good snow this winter!" (After all, I am one of those crazy snow lovers.) And I'm also reminded of the long ago prayer of a young stay-at-home mother, living far from home feeling lonely and isolated. In deep longing for the companionship of other young wives and mothers, she uttered a desperate plea, "Please, Lord send me one good friend." That young mother was me caring for three young children with one on the way.

Well, we all know the old adage, "Be careful what you pray for!" For not only have we been walloped with gargantuan snows this winter - with more promised two days from now - but God, in His infinite love and mercy, heard my plea. Not only did he send one friend my way all those years ago, but He blessed me with four amazing faith-filled and loving companions. For nearly 16 years we've grown in our faith and shared the many ups and downs of marriage and raising families. Our husbands share meaningful friendships with one another, too. Our children have grown up together, gone to school together and have forged their own friendships that promise to last a lifetime. So, yes, be careful what you pray for, God may just shower you abundantly - be it snow or friendship!

Friday, February 5, 2010

An Emptier Nest

“When mothers talk about the depression of the empty nest, they're not mourning the passing of all those wet towels on the floor, or the music that numbs your teeth, or even the bottle of capless shampoo dribbling down the shower drain. They're upset because they've gone from supervisor of a child's life to a spectator. It's like being the vice president of the United States.” - Erma Bombeck

From my office window I often see young mothers walking with their tots along a nearby bike path. Once, a mom with her two little girls stopped to play in the grassy area along the path. The mom could easily have been me, let’s see, some 20 years ago. The younger sister, no more than two, bravely set off to explore the surrounding area while her older sister kept a close vigil playing ‘little mother’. (Of course their mom had an eagle eye on them the whole time.) I remembered my own girls playing in much the same way. But now they’re all grown up. How did that happen? No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop time. My kids continued to grow and mature at lightning speed.

Last May my first-born married the man of her dreams. For me, the months leading up to the blessed event proved an emotional roller coaster ride. I experienced great joy, excitement and thanksgiving, but also sadness and a longing to keep my “baby” from leaving the nest. “It’s too soon!” my aching heart screamed only to be drowned out by the voice of reason. Katie’s impending marriage was inevitable. She was no longer my little girl playing with paper dolls strewn across the family room floor. My husband and I were confident that she and Sam were meant to be together. He is an amazing young man of deep faith and conviction. Nevertheless, my tears continued to flow – often triggered unexpectedly by anything from stumbling upon a baby photo of Katie to watching a silly coffee commercial on TV, to hearing a song – usually a country song – on the radio. Suddenly, I had a whole new batch of favorite tunes and movies. In fact, there is a great scene in the 1991 movie, Father of the Bride, starring Steve Martin as George Banks. After escorting his daughter, Annie, down the aisle, George heads back to his seat and we hear his thoughts.

"Who presents this woman? This woman? But she's not a woman. She's just a kid. And she's leaving us. I realized at that moment that I was never going to come home again and see Annie at the top of the stairs. Never going to see her again at our breakfast table in her nightgown and socks. I suddenly realized what was happening. Annie was all grown up and leaving us, and something inside began to hurt."

Yes, George Banks, I understand exactly how you feel! Something inside does begin to hurt. But, besides marrying off our children, there are other events in our lives that tug hard at the heart.

In May, my daughter Erin, graduates from Franciscan University of Steubenville. Throughout her four years of college, I’ve dealt with her comings and goings. Always thrilled to see her come and sad to see her go. As with all my children, with each good-bye, I’d die a little. Erin dreams of becoming a doctor and with her heart of service and compassion she will make a darn good one! She has applied to several schools of Osteopathy, the closest one located in Philadelphia. That’s where I’d like her to go, but her first choice is one located in Denver! Ack, I refuse to even think about it right now. Her graduation will be another bittersweet affair. I’ll have my tissues ready and my husband’s strong arm to hold on to.

My son attends West Virginia University and lives in Morgantown year round. Typical of many young men, his calls home are few and his visits are brief. Kevin is a quiet communicator. He doesn’t talk much while he’s home, so I’m never quite sure what’s going on inside his head or of the dreams he holds in his heart. He enjoys having me sit with him to watch football or extreme sports. My just being there says so much to him. In a lot of ways, it’s more difficult for me to let Kevin, my only boy, go. Like me, he has a melancholic temperament and I find myself worrying about his well-being. In many ways, he still seems just a boy and so vulnerable. He tries to disguise it with a bold bravado – but I know better. I don’t feel finished with Kevin yet and at times I miss him terribly.

My youngest child, my baby, graduates from High School in June. More tissues and more leaning on my husband, I’m sure! When Megan was a newborn, I remember examining every wrinkle in her pudgy, little, baby hand. I wanted to sear the look and feel of her tiny fingers in my memory forever. I knew she would grow up way too fast. And she did. And now here we are planning her future away from home. For a good part of a year, Megan has been looking forward to attending cosmetology school. She visited two schools in our area and had pretty much made up her mind to attend one of them in the fall of this year. I have always encouraged my kids to follow their dreams. Pursuing a profession in cosmetology seemed natural given Megan’s love and knack for cutting and styling hair. An added plus for me – I would have her home at least another year. But God had other plans. (I love it when He does that!) Due to a turn of events, Megan, instead, will be attending Belmont Abbey College – about a 7 hour drive for us. Too far! I do take comfort in knowing she’ll be only minutes away from several of her aunts and uncles and her grandparents. Megan now hopes to go to cosmetology school after she graduates from the Abbey.

Sometimes I wonder how we survive so many of our children’s milestones throughout our lives. Mine seem to arrive, one atop the other, like waves on a stormy sea crashing upon the shore. I suppose that’s what happens when your kids are so close in age. Well, for now, I’m going to focus on the positive side of my offspring growing up and moving out. First of all, I am eternally grateful to God for giving me the privilege of raising these amazing people. Although, it’s so hard for me to let go, it is also so very, very cool to have these incredible young adults in my life. It’s been an absolute joy to watch them grow, to celebrate their uniqueness. I cherish every moment I have with them, whether it be in serious conversation over a cup of coffee, playing crazy board games, or discussing homework. I also realize how perfectly natural their growing up is and how good it is for them. I look forward to seeing what God has in store for each of them. I pray that He continues to guide them, inspire them and fill them with His love.

I sometimes joke with my husband, “When all the kids are gone what ever will we talk about? What will we do?” All of our married life we’ve had kids. Katie arrived 10 months after we were married and the others shortly thereafter. Seriously, a marvelous opportunity to grow as a couple is opening up for Jim and me. To get to know one another in new and fascinating ways. We’re already spending more time out of the house (and at home) without the kids. I like focusing more undivided attention on him and I am truly excited to grow old with him. (However, something tells me we won’t be joining a bike club anytime soon!)
Speaking of growing old … In early June, we will be introducing our first grandchild to our zany, little world! What a precious, precious gift. His presence already brings such happiness. He is certainly going to be a welcome antidote to my “empty nest syndrome”. Can’t wait to meet the little one! So as one chapter ends a new one begins. I will continue to laugh and cry and live life to the fullest – no matter what it holds. Life is good indeed.

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Empty Nesting

 I'd like to share the following piece I composed in the fall of 2006. I will offer an update in the next day or so ...

With my freshly poured cup of coffee at the ready, the first article I spotted in The Washington Times one morning this past week was about empty nesters. I'm not a true empty nester, but by every indication my husband and I are rather too quickly (for my taste) headed in exactly that direction. It's really not such a bad thing, the article pointed out. In fact, 'empty nest syndrome' is really not as common as experts once thought. Many parents find great relief and happiness in their children leaving home for good. It is a time for couples to reconnect, take up new hobbies and interests. No longer are their lives ruled by carpooling and soccer schedules. Now they are free to join bicycle clubs or go jogging with one another. So, I suppose 'empty nest syndrome' isn't a real syndrome after all. The majority of parents claim to dearly love their newly sprung offspring, but at the same time peals of rejoicing often follow as the youngest bids farewell. Okay, fine. So what's my problem?

My oldest daughter left three days ago. My heart felt as though it was being ripped out of my chest. And she's not even gone for good, yet! A junior in college, she had the incredible opportunity to spend a semester studying abroad. She's in Rome - directly across from the Vatican. If all goes well and as planned, I will not see her until after Thanksgiving. Sometimes I walk down the hallway to her bedroom and look at the things she left behind. Her whole life is summed up in the many photos and mementos she has displayed about her room. Don't get me wrong, I am thrilled for her.


My second child - also a girl - started college as a freshman. Out of state. Yep, I cried when I left her. In fact, I found myself weeping at the oddest times weeks leading up to her departure. Again, I felt as though something was dying inside. From all reports, she is doing well and enjoying college life immensely.  Again, I am genuinely thrilled. But I miss her very much. My husband and I will see her again the end of the month. We are planning to visit the campus during homecoming weekend. I can't wait!

There you have it. Like I said, I'm not a true empty nester yet, but movement in that direction, well, for me anyway, is for the birds! I suppose its okay that most parents rejoice as their kids leave the house and that the few, like me, who instead grieve are becoming the real oddballs.

Monday, February 1, 2010

A Funny Ka-Ching Happened When Kevin Was Two

This morning I discovered a pocketful of change on the floor of the family room. As I stooped down to scoop it up trying to figure out how it got there, I was reminded of something that had happened several years ago. My son Kevin, who was two at the time, was playing with his little cars and trucks on the floor of our living room as I methodically assembled our artificial Christmas tree. As I was preparing to string the lights, Kevin suddenly stopped what he was doing.

“Uh-oh,” he announced, a bit sheepishly, “I ate a penny.”

“What? Did it go all the way down or is it stuck?”

“It’s here … in my tummy!” he pointed to his belly.

As Kevin is my third child I felt pretty confident that whatever “goes in” usually always “comes out,” but, as a precaution, I phoned my father-in-law, a pediatrician. He told me to keep an eye out for the coin as Kevin should most likely pass it within the next 24 to 48 hours. If I didn’t see it, then I should have him examined by our family physician. Well, lo and behold, the next time Kevin had a bowel movement don’t you know, there it was in his diaper! With much relief, I shared the good news with my husband. He was also very much relieved saying, 

“Oh, good, that’s great.” 

I replied, “Yes, it is and guess what? Kevin swallowed a penny and pooped out a dime!”

Laughing, my husband responded, “Wow, that’s a pretty good rate of exchange! Do you think he’ll swallow a dollar?”