Moving Day...

Posts for Chocolate For Your Brain will continue over on the Catholic Channel of Patheos at Chocolate For Your Brain!  I started this week and am still learning the ropes of adding photos and proper posting.  It's going to be a learning process. 

So it's a renewal of my blog but with some new bells and whistles.   
Welcome to the Renaissance of my writing...I hope.    

What if God Measures Us By How We Measure?

 It is a terrifying thought, and my brain plays little games, like when we die, God shows us all the ways in which we were harmed by sin, by others sins, that we are given one more opportunity to be merciful and forgiving as He is, and that allotment we allow, we use towards those who hurt us, is then used as a weight against the ways in which we've hurt others.  That puts it in stark contrast, and reminds us, we need more mercy than we've ever given.  

It would be frightening except that God by His very nature is more merciful and loving than we could ever imagine.  That we struggle to approximate His mercy and love and fail so regularly is a discouraging reality.   The through my fault, my fault, my most grievous fault line of the prayers always feels like a fissure of the soul, revealing how much we don't do what we ought, how much we do what we should not. With covid, these days I know I struggle with paying attention anywhere...in prayer, in mass, watching television, listening to conversations. It's as if my ears, heart and brain are simply tired of giving anyone the full attention required, and doing so requires tremendous effort. I don't want to give the time I must, I should, I ought.  I do, but it always requires wilfulness where it used to be easy. 

To complain would show a callow nature, and yet, I know that shallowness is somehow attractive because it seems to require less effort.  It doesn't, because the less effort satisfies less with each time it's tried.  Yet, it promises an ease that cannot be acquired. It's been a year and many of us feel shallow, drained and thin of spirit, and want that promised fullness brimming over that used to come so easily. 

I suspect it is the problem with Zoom, with online instruction, with many of modern relationships. They can't convey the intangible, so the experience itself becomes ephemeral.  Friendships in real life and online, with the living, and those we cannot see, most especially God,  require we seek it, even when we do not feel it.  It's a recognition that the gulf is always on our side.  

Asking the God who sees through attempts to appear holy that aren't, and through efforts that appear fruitless but are full, to pour into us grace beyond anything we deserve, and reveal via scripture, via beauty, via truth and via the sacraments, the so much more we could be, and the so much more He offers.  Where we see water, He makes wine. Where we only have a few loaves and fishes, He feeds the 5000.  It's always there, the bigger reality below the surface of the world.

Life and sin and struggles and distractions can obscure our dim vision.  We're reminded of all the blessings of the moment when we encounter another, for whom the struggles seem to us, even greater than our own, such that we feel embarrassed we ever felt anything about our own.  Praying for others, offering what we struggle with, for them, is an attempt to measure the way God measures, which is to say, with generosity, with what is needed, beyond what is asked.   

If we want to love as God loves, we need to stop measuring it out in teaspoons, and pour out the biggest buckets of prayers we can find onto Heaven, expecting to be drenched in graces as a consequence.   

Small Success Thursday

We're half way through Lent. I realized, I haven't quite managed to find a rthymn to my devotions or my prayer life. It has remained organic and impulsive and not entirely focused. This is not a confession of a bad Lent, only a reality of how this Lent has thus far progressed.  

1) So today, I recommitted to my Lent.   

Things were hard, but less so, because that's how grace works.  It makes it possible to do what we cannot do without it.  This alone counts as a success, and not  a small one, because it was a reminder to begin again.   

2) In adoration, I recognized I've overtaxed myself in every place of living, and Lent reminded me, I needed to give up trying to do everything, to give up trying to please everyone, and do whatever it was that needed doing, not for approval or success, but out of love.  It sounds corny, but I'd struggled with this past year of obligation, which robbed the ordinary of its joy.  There were and are a thousand reasons for counting blessings because of this year, but I'd grown tired of looking, tired of counting, and begun counting the wrong things. 

Recognizing I'd overdone, was the first step of recovery. Lent would begin again on this, March 11th, with the goal of more surrender each day.   

3) Today, we celebrated as my son turned 17. It's hard to believe 17 years have passed since the year the Red Soxs won their first world series, the Return of the King came out and won best picture and John became part of our lives.  We're so happy he is.   

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOHN! LOVE YOU

Cookie Cutter Parenting

 When I first started out as a mother, my journals bear out my worries, that having a second or a third, would lead to not paying attention to the individual needs of these new people, that numbers would preclude treating each child's interests and taste and talents and gifts as unique. 

Now, that I have ten children, four dietary menus, six different musical instruments being played or not,an artist, a teacher, a government major, a bio major and track star, a K-pop loving archiologist major and a budding singer, editorial cartoonist, and we won't even start on the discussion of clothing, I think this early fear of mine can safely be laid to rest forever.   Really.  

I mean, I'm not a tiger mom and I'm not an assembly line parent, but I have to wonder, to those tiger moms out there, and those capable of having all their children embrace similar clothing styles, astetics, dietary preferences and haircuts...how did you do it?  Mass hypnosis?  Biofeedback?  Drugs in the dinner plate?  Absent draconian threats of Wandavision type becoming unglued, I can't get them to move as a collective voting block to agree upon dinner...not even pizza, because two don't eat pizza and they like three different places from which to get said pie.   

Even something as simple as milk...I've got oat milk, almond milk, whole and skim...and one who doesn't like any.   

Ice cream...chocolate, mint chocolate chip, only ice cream sandwiches, cashew icecream, mochi (apple pie only), and ben and jerry's cherry garcia, and the rest will eat any of them...that last flavor of B&J is for me though, as a coping mechanism for what I endure when fixing dinner.   (But I'm easy, I'll eat just about any sweet).    

I'm glad I raised ten individual unique people, but there are moments when I'd like to say, "Hey you...deliberately round peg, get in the square hole now because it's hammer time!   And I'd swing down like nobody's business.   I'd like to not feel like every meal, every holiday, and every event is not merely reminicent of a GRE Analysis question, but the inspiration for a whole slew of new ones.  ETS should have me on payroll.   

Still, there are moments when I see the sublime wonder of having so many different unique personalities under one roof.  Today, the tire blew out on my mini-van.  One made dinner.  One practice yoga with three others. One helped organize cleaning the living room.  Another did pick up of those who needed rides and two did the dishes.  It was a beautiful thing, all these individuals coming together despite their many differences.  

In gratittude, I made cookies and everyone was happy. It was then that it hit me, the joy I'd created with the thank you treat...everyone loved them.  Everyone ate them. They were universal. 

And it occurred to me, the cookies...they were slice and bake.

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to IKEA

 So this week, as we continue the theme of everything deciding after a year of only living with us, the machines are all quitting, the furniture followed suit.  Out one bed and a few drawers, we opted to do as the Swedes do...and went to that store known for three things...making Americans follow a maze without having a ride at the end, selling furniture Mjollnir like in temperment, refusing to be assembled by those it deems not worthy, and the unique capacity to make people not presumably under duress, part with money to purchase frozen sweedish meatballs for human consumption.   

We purchased a bed after an hour of walking around, and two desks and yes, even some Sweedish meatballs.  My second oldest started assembly, my desk was easy.  My daughter's bed, not so much.  It seemed we'd neglected to purchase the right slats and the base bar. We also accidentally purchased a full rather than twin...but that, we could deal with so the next day, we drove again to the Ikea (it's an hour there each time).  

Home again, home again, jiggity jig, and we can't open the bar. It's supposed to expand.  We tried WD40, we tried olive oil, and we had three people pulling as hard as they could --with visions of someone being impaled by the process if the damn thing gave.   My son decided to try a hair dryer.  To our surprise, he was able to slide the bar with ease. It did give him bragging rights, especially since everyone else had tried and failed.   I told him to tell his older sister, there was a simpler explanation...we were not worthy.   

The mattress we need arrives tomorrow...and the sheets and comforter that would fit, on Tuesday, so sometime after March 9th, my daughter will have a working bed and maybe, a full night's sleep.   

As for me, four hours of driving and an equal amount of frustration for four adults and satisfaction for one modest but still somehow smug teen and I microwaved the meatballs for dinner, vowing never to darken the doors of the most overrated Sweedish import since the SAAB, Hagar the Horrible and, well I do like ABBA.   

I do however, love my new desk and the breakfast table, having caught wind of the recent wave of revolutions by inanimate objects, feels wobbly.  

Over at Catholic Mom.com today and other things...

1)  I've been writing, and my first piece in a while is at Catholicmom.com and called Go Deeper In.   

2) I'm editing.  Slowly.  Grudgingly.  

3) I'm exercising.  Slowly.  Grudingly.   

4) A brief shout out to all of you who hear when others don't, that someone is hurting more than they wish to admit, thank you.  

This morning, a friend felt devastated that her attempt to help someone who voiced a suicidal thought was treated with contempt.   Yesterday, another person I know dealt with a similar issue.  My response to everyone and anyone who responds when someone cries out thinking no one hears them  is, thank you for listening.  Thank you for stopping from all that is ordinary and distracting and keeps life busy and humming along because someone else hurt and you noticed.  

Thank you because those people are still here because you heard and didn't keep going.  
Thank you because you understood the need to stop, that such things couldn't be ignored or brushed aside.  
Thank you because we all know this has been a horrible year, and yet, you still think of others and recognize, sometimes the hardness of life overwhelms.   It need not, and it might not, if we are willing to listen, and to speak when we hear "the cry of the poor."   The people who did the right thing, are still struggling with what they encountered and what they can't share, so I'm telling them, "Thank you." from the bottom of my heart for everyone who doesn't know they need to say thank you, but who does still have that someone to love today, because of what you did.    

5) The move to Patheos is soon.  

6) If you're in the DC Area, tickets just went on sale for this, very psyched about the fall.    

7) Lastly, I hope your Lent is going well.  Mine has involved a lot of backtracking and uturns and restarts and it's near the end of the second week.  Next week's reflection, what makes a "good Lent?"  

My Small Success Thursday

 Years ago, I ran Small Success Thursday every Thursday for Catholicmom.com. It's now on Instagram and I'm not, so I'm going to just restart posting Small Success Thursday each Thursday to force me to hold to my 500 words  a day, no outs, no excuses mantra until I run out of words.   

Small Success Thursday is about taking stock of the prior week to see the little victories that help one be grateful for the things that otherwise might get lost in the course of seven days. In this time of Covid, cultivating gratitude is a form of self preservation and a reminder that even when things are pretty much the same, there are moments that should be celebrated.   

1) In the past week, we've acquired a new car, a new toaster and a new dishwasher. All three machines just decided their time was up and they weren't going to do anything more.  The mechanic took the car for what looks like a month and a half break.  The toaster found its place in the trash can and the new one ambled its way over the course of seven days from wherever it was in the Amazon warehouse to our home. The plumber took away the old dishwasher that was a machine and not working.  The old dishwasher that is not a machine is still working and wondering if she stopped working, would she get to retire too?   

2) Restarted my writing 500 words a day to get my writing brain back into regular practice. It had taken what I would call a month off (Feb), after the conference.  

3) Looked at my shoes and thought about walking.  Waiting for the temperature to be above my age.   or at least within a decade.   

4) Visited with a few important people in my life, family, friends, which somehow had fallen by the wayside --how we can get too busy when we're not going anywhere is proof we are capable of infinite distraction in every circumstance.  

5) Watched a movie I hadn't seen and read a book I hadn't read.   (Progress again, against watching things I've already seen, and looking at text I already knew).   

That's my list of Small Successes of this past week.  Hope your week was filled with small successes too.  

Potential Side Effects from Getting Vaccinated...

I mean besides being able to possibly avoid a very contagious potentially deadly disease...

There are as many crazy therories as there are theorists, but I'll try to outdo them all.

When news broke that vaccines were approved, I wanted to sign up right away, but the state is deciding who gets the shots and in what order. I get it. I'll get to get it. I've received half of it, and in two weeks the other half. They're being careful and reasonably so. Can't have too many super soldiers running around like Steve Rodgers, we might get a crazy Bucky on our hands instead. Some are worried it includes microchips that will turn us into zombies that only do what Bill Gates tells us...but I've not had any problems other than I really do want to install Windows 10 on my computer and I don't know why.

The companies putting out these shots, they're testing versions for kids and mine were psyched about possibly being test subjects and maybe becoming mutants. However when I told them, if it grew a third arm as a side effect, I would no longer accept unclean rooms, they said they'll wait for FDA approval. I have to admit, now I'm disappointed.

Last week I drove to six flags to get the first shot, and it made me shrink. I may not be tall enough to get the second one when I return. Then I realized I was slouching from the year long sitting at a computer screen isolatory way of life we've endured.

I think the shot gave me weight gain, I'm sure it wasn't the pizza for dinner last night or the french fries or the ice cream. The medication must have given me procrastination, it's why I haven't done the paperwork for this week or the dishes yet. It's why I took a nap as well. The side effects have no end, so I'm not sure when I'll stop napping. I may need to do so tomorrow too, you never know.

Treatment for the side effects includes coupious amounts of chocolate...I've done my own independent research on the matter so you'll have to trust me. It's not some crazy wacky theory I found on the internet, I made it up myself. It cures dementors so why not Covid shot side effects.

Speaking of side effects, I've noticed my voice is slurred. It could be the wine from dinner or the need to not stay up late binge watching whatever new thing it is I've found on Netflix, but I'm sure the need to binge watch into the wee hours is also a side effect. I wonder if I can sue? I've become acutely aware of every action since the shot, even if I did it before the shot, since before it was a coping mechanism. Now, it is a reaction worthy of excessive fiscal compensation.

There is one side effect I can report with absolute certainty that is the result of that first shot in the arm. I've felt this bubble of something, of being able to think beyond the moment, of anticipating walking out the door, and one day, seeing other people's faces. Side effects include making plans, preparing for the future, and remembering there's so much more to this life than inside the four walls of our house...so go and sign up and get yourself vaccinated to help your family and yourself, because the side effect of hope is sooooooo worth it.

Hold Please...

 Today, we learned, we're not alone.  Oh, we know that Covid keeps all of us six feet apart, but there is one universal thing that knits all hearts together, a thing universally loathed...telemarketers.  They've managed to evade the do not call lists, such that the home phone rings almost exclusively with apologies from a non existent electric company, notifications about our car warranty and notes from Linda that there is nothing wrong with our credit card...however...  

As such, my children view such disruptions to the normal chaos and peace of the home crimes worthy of all the creativty they can muster.  One answers in German.  Not to be outdone, another says, "Dominos Pizza? I'd like to order a pepperoni and a large with extra cheese. Hold please."   The third is more wiley.  She hands the phone to Paul, who not knowing who it is, proceeds to talk and walk about the house, happy to share his thougths with the robot on the other side of the line. No unusual credit offers or certificates for extended warranty of our automobiles have shown up yet, so we deem it a fair use of the phone.  The practical child just hangs up. She doesn't want to be bothered with such things.  

However, there is one...one who truly excells at using these opportunities to practice wit.   Answering the person selling solar panels, "I don't want to exploit the sun..." or "I don't believe in that great white hot orb in the sky." she leaves them stunned into silence. It's brilliant and burning and devastating to behold.  The phone rang...and perhaps the karma for however many spambots and call centers burned over the years needed to happen, because the person on the other side of the receive paused too long for anyone to think it was a human being.  

"If you're selling, I'm going to come out swinging..." the tiger prepared to pounce...
The person on the phone stammered out their name and asked for me.   The recognition, this was an actual person dawned on everyone.   Scratching a note...if that's work, I'm really sorry, but if it's just a friend...the mom on the line was cracking up, telling me her daughter uses pots and pans as  drumset when the telemarkers call.   "I thought it was just me."  

No. It's not you. It's not me either, it's all of us, united against them.   We laughed and wondered how many are out there with silent running gags they use to get these pests off the phones we don't want to answer...the phone rang.  It was about a hotel trip somewhere..."Hola?" She began, and proceeded to say the lyrics to "Despesito" as if having a conversation.  

The momentary shock of encountering an actual person we know in real life obviously had worn off...

Things that Will Hold

These days, as the world starts to open up, and all of us feel the jitters, the stress of returning to the more that life demands, we need to be careful with ourselves and each other.  We need to practice kindness, with our words, our deeds, and even our non actions. 

We need to have gentle words, gentle acts, and gentle arts, gentle responses to the hardest of things and the ordinary hardness of ordinary life.  That means choosing to eat healthy, but being kind when we can't.  It means getting enough rest, even if it means a nap. It means praying, and asking the angels and saints to help when the heart runs dry.   It means practicing that good and generous measure packed and overflowing of forgiveness, for everyone struggling with the damage and hardness of the past year, and other pains we do not know.   It means practicing on ourselves for all the pains we ignore.   

Today, I spoke with my kids about remembering to take care of themselves and each other,  We need to exercise, we need to exercise restraint. We need to read, we need to read the moods, and we need to serve each other and recognize when we need to ask for help.   It's not easy to recognize we need to stop, or we need to help someone else stop, but this is the reality we have to help soften, like a crocus in the landscape before spring.  

Being a crocus in winter is the goal, ermerging before Spring signals that everything is safe and warm and ready.  It doesn't mean not wearing masks or practicing social distancing, it means doing all of that, but doing them with a trust that spring will come, that the world will get warmer and so will life.   

We won't always be in lock down. We won't always be struck by Covid. We won't always have to wear masks to make sure everyone around us is safe, and everyone we love we go home to, is also safe. One day we'll be able to breathe easy about all of this and all of this will amazingly be a memory with face masks being a reminder of that year we stayed home. . 
It’s restorative to remember, we won’t always be in Lent.  Easter is coming. All of Lent is a reminder, that much of life is ash, is Ash Wednesday, but Easter arrives.  Easter is here, and even better, it is always. For now, we get to work at this business of caring for others and ourselves.  'Till we have faces, we will have to show our true selves by how we treat each other and ourselves.