Lest I Forget

I am most definitely not a morning person. Convincing myself to get out of bed takes prayer. However, once I am awake, morning is one of my favorite times of day. It is a clean slate. I have yet to make any serious mistakes. The air just feels clean and fresh when you breathe it in. God starts with a fresh canvas each morning too. The sky slowly comes to life with colors different than the day before, different from the moment before. I sat with my coffee and my Magnificat this morning in my comfy orange chair, now riddled with claw marks from the kitten who is now mostly a cat. As I glanced away from the page to ponder what I had just read, I saw out the window the most brilliant red horizon. I blinked and the view had changed, yet was just as beautiful. I dashed up the creaky wooden stairs to grab my camera, hoping not to awaken the kids. Stepping into my slippers and stepping out the door in my bathrobe, I attempted to capture a brief moment of the ever-changing canvas befor...

On my morning walk, I passed under a tall, old tree. The sidewalk underneath was littered with the detritus of a dead limb that had fallen. As I prayed the rosary's Glorious Mysteries, I began to reflect on that tree. I had noticed that even among all that debris, which looked dead and useless, there were plants with delicate, tiny flowers pushing their way upward, striving for the sun's light. It made me  think about all of us who, at times in our lives, have had suffering and hardships fall on us like that limb. We must not let that crushing feeling overwhelm us, but continue to seek the light that is Christ, our Savior and Comforter. My thoughts then took another path. That tree is like me. I have sinful parts. Parts that need to be pruned in order that I may continue to grow closer to God. When I am able to break free of a certain sin, it is like letting that dead branch crash to the ground. As that sinful branch breaks down, it no long...

I awoke to a cold, rainy Friday morning. Fitting, I thought, for such a day as this. All Heaven and earth are in mourning. In keeping with the solemnness of the day, I had in my mind that we would have a silence in our home and hearts from noon until 3:00. We would do the Stations of the Cross, pray the sorrowful mysteries, and at 3:00 we would start our Divine Mercy novena. As so often happens, my plans are not the Lord's. I was angry, that my way, which seemed so wonderful, was not to be. And I did not handle it with any sort of grace, I tell you. However, when we finally did begin the Stations of the Cross, the children made it the most meaningful of this Lenten season. When we went to the ones at our chapel, I had to keep little ones from becoming distractions for others and was not able to focus. But the tears came as I watched my kids take the peg dolls and move them through the city they had built. It came alive to me, at the hands of my children's play. How long wil...

What do you do when you are unhappy with your life? You cry, you complain, and then? You snap out of it and realize that if you are unhappy, you need to change. No one else is going to do it for you! After much soul searching, I realized what I didn't like and what I can try to do to better the situation. Let's start with my faith. I know that there are periods of spiritual ups and downs, just like the rest of life. A spiritual dry spell is where I was. I decided to try to pray a rosary every day. We had recently been to Fatima. I stood in the very spot where Our Lady appeared to those three children and told them to pray the rosary every day. It must be a good thing if Our Heavenly Mother appears and tells us so! 31 is the number of rosaries so far this year! Next is my desire to exercise more, which is not a lofty goal considering that anything above nothing is more than I was previously doing! This one actually solved two separate problems. One, I am out of shape, and...

One of my deepest sufferings when we lost Ben was the fact that he died alone. I was not there beside him as he made the journey from this life to His Eternal Home. The guilt was great in this mama's heart. I prayed to God to help me through this consuming sorrow. Not many months after Ben died, my prayer was answered in a most amazing way. I was blessed with a vision of Jesus and Mary coming into his room, each of them taking one of his perfect little hands and walking him to Heaven. It was a very clear, specific vision that I believe God sent to me as a comfort in the midst of my overwhelming grief. His Heavenly mother and her Son were there when I was not. I briefly wrote about it over on his blog . This morning, I was scrolling through my Facebook feed, when an image took my breath away. There was my vision, almost exactly as I saw it eight years ago! This vision has brought me much solace through the years, and there it was, an image...

Yesterday, we went the vigil Mass. I have been on my own this past week while Tony did his tuba thing in Switzerland. There was an acquaintance there who started chatting with me after Mass as I waited for Jack to finish up his duties as Altar Server. Until last night, we have always just made small talk, but for some reason, which I believe was the Holy Spirit, she told me that I am doing a good job, that no one is perfect, that it is all right to "mess up" sometimes. Out of the blue, I tell you! Then I went to the Commissary to get our groceries for the week. Tony called to check in while we were going up and down the aisles, checking things off the list. Peter was crying and crying because he was tired and hungry. All of a sudden, Tony stopped telling me his story and said, "I love you for being so patient with all that crying going on. You are doing a great job". Peter eventually perked up after letting him eat an entire package of dried mangoes while getting ...

"The people have loved miracles for so many hundred years, not as proof or evidence, but because they are the actual flowering of desire. In them the vague worship and devotion of the simple-hearted assumes a form. From being a shapeless longing, it becomes a beautiful image; a dumb rapture becomes a melody that can be remembered and repeated; and the experience of a moment, which might have been a lost ecstasy, is made an actual possession and can be bequeathed to another." - from "Shadows on the Rock" by Willa Cather

For some reason, it was much easier to justify the purchase of Madelinetosh when it was being used for a gift. I wish I could knit with it for every project, but then again, would I appreciate it nearly so much if I could? Would a special day be special if we were able to live it every day? I finished reading "The Bird in the Tree". God's timing is perfect, I tell you. If I had read it quickly, the message would have been lost. As it is, I read the words I needed to see right when my soul needed them most. Linking up with Ginny , as usual.

Yesterday was one of those days. If one more person had told me one more thing that was even slightly unpleasant, well, let's just say it was a good thing they didn't! But then I read Jamie's blog and I realized that I needed to find the little things and just be thankful. There is so much to be thankful for! First, I am thankful for Jamie, who helped me to remember where my heart should be. I am thankful that my husband has a job that provides food, shelter, and clothing for us all with some left over for those unexpected bills and maybe even a treat now and then. I am thankful for unseasonably warm days in December, so the kids can play outdoors without having to get bundled up. I am thankful for little boys who like to snuggle in my arms to fall asleep.   Thankful for a spunky, sassy, full of life 3 year old little girl. Thankful for creative little boys whose Christmas list includes a metal detector and an accordion. Thankful for Cari...

There are seasons in our lives just as there are in nature. Seasons of plenty, seasons of want. During those times of smooth sailing, it is easy to become complacent, to forget just how much we need God every minute of every day. But oh, when the storms of life make for very rough seas, they can bring you to your knees in an instant. And that is where I am this morning. Literally on my knees, scrubbing the floor from the juice spilled by a toddler. It is this tiny thing that becomes "the straw" and the tears flow as I realize I cannot do this myself. I think, who can I call? Who could help? Who would listen and understand? All the little things and all the bigger things have all come to this moment and I am humbled to my knees and I know. And He knows. He has quietly been waiting for me to ask for help. How grateful I am to know that  my prayers are heard and that grace is showered down on me so that I can handle this moment and the next and the next.

The wise words from my few readers last week was to step back and regroup. I can be silly and stubborn at times and probably would have continued on in a bad mood. Sometimes God knows how to help us put aside our own pride and follow that good advice. He sent one of my dear friends and 7 of her children to stay with us for a week. We got a week long pass to the Williamsburg historic triangle and had the best time. At least I did. Believe me when I say that I am bone tired, but in such a beautiful way. In having their family stay with us, I was shown how to live out my faith as God intends. Not just when things are good, but in every moment. I somehow had this crazy idea that I was failing my family if they were not perfect all the time. But instead of using those moments for gentle reguiding, I was beginning to yell and be anything but Christ to my family. Not good, I know. Oh, but being with this friend helped me find Jesus in my heart, buried beneath all that sinfulness and pride, an...