Surprise...at the Register Again

I submitted this piece a while ago, but tinkered with it after the fact which frustrates me from a writing stand point.  That being said, you can see the original over at the National Catholic Register...and please share if you liked it. 

Pray Thy Will Be Done and Mean it.

Beautiful, Luminous, Perfect

My son was dealing with the difficulties of bureaucracy.  He had to have this form, they'd get back to him in ten days, he went to deal with it, they closed for lunch while he was waiting.  He called to vent.  For some reason, this felt like a time to give a little push.  "Look, you've been banging your head against the wall for ages on this.  Why not look at where in your life, things have been freely given. Perhaps, that is what you should pursue..."  What I didn't realize was how my conversation with him was a continuation of a conversation I'd had with my daughter. 

She was examining a song for a class.  It mentioned Saint Clare of Assisi's mortification. 
"What is the meaning of mortification? I could get giving up one's hair for Locks for love. (She has friends who have), but what was the purpose but a gesture?"she asked.

Yes. It was a romantic gesture to her bridegroom, to give something of beauty back.  How to explain the spiritual gift of mortification when I'm not so clear on it myself.  Pregnancy is a mortification, or can be.  Giving blood.  She could get giving up a good for one's self for someone else here, but also quickly disavowed that the hair in this case was an equivalent.   "What did God need with the giving up of a good?"  The quick answer of God didn't, but knew Saint Clare and those who would follow her, learn from her, discover her in the history of the Church for centuries to come, would, didn't quite satisfy.

Fasting is a mortification.  She understood that too.  Undergoing the denial of a good to remind one's self of the greatest good, allowing God to work in the absence of feeling too full to seek something that would fill greater made sense, for Lent and things like that.   But what again, did God need of us, that we needed to surrender a gift given? 

And I remembered my words to my son, "Look in your life, where things have been freely given."  The hair was freely given.  That doesn't mean it was easy, only that she freely gave it with a full heart even though it may have (I don't know), momentarily worried her or plagued her --with the "I shall be ugly" vanity of thought.  I suspect that if it did, she was consoled by the permanent beauty she became, as one of the incorruptible.  She would remain beautiful, in having given her beauty back to God.   I can recognize God's humor and grace in His answer to her surrender.  

How to explain that to those who have yet to really walk out into the world and understand who they are, what they are to do, and how whatever that is, God will seek to ask until they say yes or a final no, to bring them to greater versions of themselves than they can imagine.   I could only explain that we are called to surrender ourselves as part of our growth as spiritually mature adults, whether in marriage, in parenting, in holy orders, or in sublimation of our appetites against the age if we live a holy life as single people. 

None of these paths were easy, but entered into and engaged with a full heart, God will pour out the graces making them beautiful, luminous, perfect.   The trick is to come to that point where we say to the Blessed Mother, "We're out of wine." and then being obedient as we're made to deal with filling jugs with water and taking some out into the world to be judged. Trusting that in this obedience, somehow, Christ will turn what is water in our lives into the best wine.

Small Success Thursday

Two nights ago, my toddler kept getting out of bed.  I know it was because I announced that everyone needed a good night's sleep for Tera Nova testing.  After a normal tuck in, a extra water tuck in, a I forgot to brush my teeth tuck in (she hadn't), a you didn't read me a story complaint, a I need my dolphin and monkey announcement, and the kicker, "I can't sleep" bulletin, I got mad.   There were four more runs up the stairs to turn off lights and demand that she stay in bed.  By the time all lights were out, I was exhausted mentally and emotionally.  Even worse, I knew that I would be a single mom for the next three days with their father out of town.

Frustrated, I talked to my mom.  She suggested cuddling for ten minutes.  I confess, I didn't want to.  I wanted to threaten major carnage if she even peeped.  "I can tell that's good advice." I said.

"Why?" my mom asked.

"Because I really really really don't want to do it.  But I KNOW it will work." But good advice is hard to ignore.  I filed it away in my head for the next evening.

Wednesday, I took the kids to IHOP for dinner (as a bribe) for getting the oil changed and then picking up their older brother from the metro.  Impuslively after picking him up, I announced we were going to confession. 

The day had been filled with little fights and I wanted a clean slate, not to mention strength for the next few days of solo parenting.

Coming home, I had to rush through bed time but I made SURE we'd brushed teeth, read a story and said prayers.  I climbed into her bed.  She looked shocked.  "Why are you here?" she asked. 

"I thought I'd give you an extra snuggle to help you sleep." I offered.  She put her hand on my face.  "You are really beautiful Mom." she said.  I blinked.  Why had I not wanted this?  Sublimation if only for a moment understood properly, was everything.

I went downstairs where my oldest was playing computer games.  "Have you studied for the SAT?" I asked.
He gave me a "Don't nag look."  "You know, I just came from tucking in your sister."  I explained that the best advice is often that which we know is right but don't want to follow.  "You should study." I finished and left the room.  He sat there staring at the screen and then I heard "Man....that.....just.....rots."

He grabbed his book and set the timer. His smile at me said, "I'm going to do this." Grace works that way, at least in this household.

This morning, my toddler came in to wake me up and despite a lost shoe, despite a child having knots in her hair and an occasional mutter under the breath, there were no fights while we got all 8 loaded into the car.  (My oldest takes the bus).   

The oldest two daughters take turns occupying the front seat.  The oldest got there first even though it wasn't her week.  She wanted to argue about being able to sit in the front row.  I explained that she wasn't being fair to her sister.  She started to counter, but I admittedly shut it down, "If you say yes, but, you aren't done fighting, you're trying to win after the fact."  She sat trying to get around it.  "If you know it's the right thing and you are fighting it, you need to ask yourself why? It's usually about wanting what you want, about satisfying one's self."  She sat there with the same sort of wry closed mouth grin.

Like exercise, like saving for a big item, like all gratification deferred, it is a peculiar pleasure to chose grace.   I don't know how long we can keep this up, but it's 9:52 am and I'm really looking forward to the rest of the day. 

The theme of the day, "Less, less, less of me Lord, More, More More of You."

Peace on Earth to People of Good Will*

*Some reflections from some comments and several discussions.

Peace is the first gift offered man by the angels at Christ's birth, and the first gift offered by Christ upon his Resurrection. Peace is that warm sense of community that comes from knowing that all of us long for the hearth in our homes, that all of us hope to be part of the 5000 fed. Genuine Peace is freedom from sin, not freedom from want or need. We need only look at the lives of celebrities to see that theirs are lives full of everything, except peace or conversely at the women who join the Missionaries of Charity. Their lives intentionally have very little, yet they hold an abundance of peace.

Peace does not come simply from having a military that can take down opposition with force (power); that is the mistake of order for peace; or having a full belly and all physical needs accounted for; the error of satiation for peace, or from the knowledge that no one is better off than one's self; the error of equality for peace. Security, Order and Equality and peace are not synonymous, the three are reflective of peace, but not its equivalent.

Respect for others is insufficient as a means of deterrence when faced with real evil, real wrong; polite regard and courtesy are reflective of refinement, but they are dangerous if manners and good appearances prevent one from acknowledging truth, good from bad behavior. A person can smile and smile and still be a villain; so can a country or a government. Peace is not something we can manufacture with arms or austerity or government programs or extensive systemic charity. It is something we must seek with our whole hearts to receive. If we want peace on Earth, pray earnestly and do good to bring others peace for true peace can only come from the Holy Spirit.

Peace begins in each of our hearts, responding to the slights, insults, irritations and annoyances of others not with anger or hurt, but with humor, gentleness, listening, truth and generosity of spirit. It must be practiced fresh daily and with everyone, even our worst enemies, but most often, it's hardest when required with those we love most. It is easier to love in the abstract where nothing is required than to love in the actual, where sublimation must be practiced; or at least it is for me. Peace means becoming light to and for others.

Peace comes from knowing that our hearts are restless until they rest in Thee, and that God loves us despite our incapacity to hold onto this gift He freely offers us, absent our cooperation with His grace. Confident of this, His Peace comes from going about our lives trying to live out some fraction, some snatch of the Gospels, what Jesus taught and urged and still asks us to do.

If you long for peace within and beyond your homes, pray the Rosary. If you want that peace in your hearts and in the world; practice the beatitudes, wash the feet, serve in the Calcutta that surrounds you, that you see. Poverty is everywhere, and not just in the form of physical dire need, but in the closed hearts, the darkened spirits of our family, friends, classmates, aquaintances and neighbors. Christ in disguise for one, is obvious to another; that is why we all are the body of Christ. And we should work tirelessly hoping that everyone we see, we will meet again in Heaven and greet as the true friends Christ intended us to be.


Wishing all of you His Peace.

I Don't Know How You Do It!

Some variant of this question appears weekly in my life whenever I venture out into public with the kids. My standard response is, "Some days I don't."

But all humor comes with a grain of truth. There have been times when the very edges of every day were brimming with the possibility of failure. I'd get to the end of the day and the list of what I didn't do or get to or finish was so long I'd ache. Maybe if I worked harder, worked smarter, worked better and the systems and the plans and the lists would start in earnest and things would improve for a day or so, and then reality would crash back down like the high waves against the shore, eroding my resolve and all those fine proposals for improved success.

"How do you do it?" someone would ask, and then add, "God doesn't hand off anything He doesn't know you can handle." and I'd chafe internally big time because I could easily rattle off six or seven times from the past three weeks when I knew, I wasn't handling it as well as God would want that's for certain.

Moreover, there were moments when I wanted to not handle it. I didn't want to do laundry every day. I didn't want to do and do and do and do. There were days when I so wanted to just chuck the homework out the window of the car as we drove back home because getting home would mean having to stand over people and nag them to read, to do their math, to color the right things and memorize their tables. There were days when I didn't want to do the bed time routine even though I knew it made things easier. Bath, teeth, story, prayers, bed. I just wanted to go teeth, bed! Maybe even just bed!

But God gives me all of these people with their disparate needs so that I would recognize others are always paramount and submit. Sometimes I would find grace to do this and other times not, but the discipline of the actions, like route prayer, would prevent me from spending every day wallowing in my own world disconnected from all other souls, lost in the words and the mind and the self.

The cacophony of their silliness, of their instant wants, of their "HiMomCanItellyouaboutmyday?" that results in a run through of their school schedules from 7:55 to 2:45 every day only to be followed by the breathless, "What's for snack?" is a form of sublimation. That they want to tell me every day is music to my ears; though sometimes, I concede, I cannot hear it above the jostling for seats and immediate list of things needed from the store, desired dinners and planned activities for the next eight waking hours.

I still fantasize about a day ending before 10:30 with respect to all under the age of 18, and it may one day happen. (I'm hopeful but recognize that when that happens, I'll probably have some people over the age of 18 still in the house).

How do you do it?

When things get hard, I'll rail at God, "I can't do this. It's too much. I feel like I'm supposed to deal with the leftover 12 baskets of loaves and fishes and the enormity of the task is too great. I can't do it." To which God responds with something of a smile, "You're right Sherry." and I'm left to recognize that all Christ asks of me is a willing free heart for others. Our Lord doesn't need the socks or the dishes or the mopped floors or the finished homework. He needs his sheep that I've been given to manage to know Him, to love Him and to want to serve Him.

How do you do it?

Most of the time, I just smile and plunge into it. Keep going. Hold onto that great Peace Christ gives, and share it with the children. Pray whenever worry strikes.

But sometimes the question resonates in areas of my psyche I didn't expect.

"How do you do it?"

On those days, when I mean, "Some days, I don't." the grace of those days is that I'm reminded that in reality, I never did any of this without God, and that without God, I can't do this at all.