Skip to main content

A New Day

Lately, I have been feeling like a failure less than adequate at my vocation as wife and mother. I read other blogs and instead of finding myself inspired, I just feel tired and defeated. When you don't have nice thoughts, you don't post much. At least I don't.

I desire to be better. I desire to feel better. I beg God each night to help me be better.

Wanting the best for my family, both physically and spiritually, I yearn for the ability to provide them with food that is not processed beyond recognition. I long for a small farm where we can spend our days working together growing good food and raising a few animals. I dream of a solid, orthodox parish where we can grow in our faith together. These are my dreams. But not everyone in my family shares these dreams. They have their own dreams and goals that do not involve a little land and a lot of elbow grease. How to mesh these differing ideals seems almost impossible and I am left feeling tired and defeated.

So I am trying to appreciate the things I can do for my family where we are right now. I cannot afford a cow share that allows access to nice, fresh milk. I buy organic, but I am not sure how much better it is condsidering that it is ultra-pasteurized. I limit the amount of processed foods that come into our house. Everyone needs an Oreo dunked in ultra-pasteurized milk occasionally. Right?

We used to attend the Saturday evening vigil Mass in Georgia, which lent itself nicely to going to confession on a regular basis. Now we go to Mass on Sundays so that Olivia can play guitar in the teen choir. Confession became sporadic at best. I recently acquired my first Ipod. I discovered the alarm and started setting alarms to remind myself of all the things I seem to forget. Last Saturday, we were actually at our Church for the fall festival when my ipod started chiming. Wondering what I was supposed to be doing, I looked down and sheepishly realized that I had set the alarm for getting to Confession! How pathetic is it that I was at the Church and couldn't remember to go to Confession?

The desire is strong, but I am weak. So I woke up this morning and thanked God for a clean slate and asked for His help to try again to live my vocation as He intends.


Comments

  1. Jenny, God only asks us to try. He does expect perfection. Maybe more time away from the Internet will help. I always figure if a woman is spending so much time making her life look perfect to others, it can't be so great for real. :-)

    ReplyDelete
  2. I was going to say something similar to Barbara's, that if a woman's life looks perfect in blogworld, it's lacking somewhere. They are not telling us everything. We only get glimpses of perfection. It's a great thing, these blogs, but sometimes, the devil uses them to create jealousies and inadequacies. God made you these kiddos' mama and you are what they need. You can only do your best, which you are doing.

    I hope my blog is not one of those blogs...believe me, it's not perfect around here, laundry piled up, supper always late, around 7pm!! I feel like I'm always playing "catch up".

    I'll pray for you.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I had a post very similar to this written up this morning, but I didn't post it. It was about how I get jealous of other bloggers. I get jealous of their little patches of grass, the chickens they raise, the garden they grow. It is a life I wish for myself and my family, but we are military, so it's not going to happy anytime soon. I've been thinking so much on this. Mostly it boils down to trust and surrender to God and His divine Will.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Door Table

Once there was a store in Georgia. It is no more, but how I wish it was. I likened going in there to treasure hunting. One never knew what was going to be in there, and you had to dig through and wade through all the "other people's treasures" to find your own. I once found a set of blue and white teacups and saucers from England. I found lace handkerchiefs, a rocking chair, and an end table. But by far the best find was my kitchen table. I had stopped by one day while the kids were taking horseback lessons and the then little ones were asleep. The store was not open, but I went up to the window to see if anything new was there. And it was there. The table. And six chairs too! We were in need of a bigger table with Jack on the way. My mom had offered to give us her old one, which I was going to accept if I didn't find something I liked better. I didn't want anyone else to even see the table because I knew it was supposed to be ours, but one can never tell abo

Fog and faith

 I stepped out into the coolness of the November morning to start the car and defog the windows, preparing to take Jack to school. Daylight had yet to appear. As we drove the many miles, the sky lightened, and we could see the mist hanging out just above the grass. We usually listen to a story together on our drive, adding commentary, exchanging a knowing glance or a shocked expression as the twists and turns unfold. I relish this time with Jack. I know that all too soon he will be preparing to leave the nest, like his sisters before him.  On the drive back, I pull my rosary from my purse and pray. By this time, the sun is just about to appear, making the sky a beautiful orange-pink on the horizon. I am pondering much as I pray, for the path I am on is once again rocky and uncertain. Such is life, whether we have faith or not. Faith makes it bearable. For the most part, the road home is a straight shot and I can see the ribbon of road laid out before me, narrowing in the distance. The

A Tale of a Tail (or the excitement of the day)

 First of all, I doubt anyone still checks this little old neglected blog, so I am probably talking to myself right now. But if by chance, there is still someone out there, I will tell the tale of the tail I came to tell. As little boys are apt to do, Peter left his rainboots outside on the front porch several days ago. As they do not add to the decor on the porch, I decided to bring them inside this morning and I put them by the back door, where they belong. There they sat, until the mail truck came by and tucked our mail into the box. I may or may not have mentioned that our property is surrounded by a moat during the rainy days. There is no going to collect the mail without rain boots. Seeing how Peter was supposed to be doing his math lesson, of course he eagerly volunteered to go get the mail. He hopped up from the table and went to put on his boots. The scream that came from him made me leave my seat! I thought he had hurt himself. He claimed there was a roach in his boot. I pick