This is my Confession: A Lesson in Humility

We're home from vacation!

Not as restful as vacation should be... the girls never sleep well away from home, but Grace officially (and successfully!) slept in a bed! Every night! The funny memories came when we put her down for a nap, only to see her knocking on the glass sliding door leading to the porch.

Sunday's second reading really hit home for me. Ephesians 4:1-6, emphasis mine:

Brothers and sisters:
I, a prisoner for the Lord,
urge you to live in a manner worthy of the call you have received,
with all humility and gentleness, with patience,
bearing with one another through love,
striving to preserve the unity of the spirit through the bond of peace:
one body and one Spirit,
as you were also called to the one hope of your call;
one Lord, one faith, one baptism;
one God and Father of all,
who is over all and through all and in all.

Humility. Gentleness. Patience. Bearing in love. Unity through the bond of peace. 

What a tall order! What is needed more in this world - in the public and private spheres.

My failings are obvious: I was crabby for half of vacation. I can freely admit this now, having gotten way more sleep now that we are back home. I didn't want to be, and I tried not to be, and, at Will's gentle urging, I ended up apologizing to every member of my family for the fog I felt around me. They, of course, were gracious and understanding (as they cuddled my children).

So, this past Saturday, I went to Confession. It seemed to be the thing to do after vacation, plus Will had fallen asleep on the couch instead of in bed (another no-sleep SICU shift left him passed out before he finished his lunch), and the girls needed to get out of the house. I took the girls with me on a penitential trip when I went to the wrong parish at the wrong time. I went an hour early to the one farther from our house, and decided to not risk missing my turn by driving to the other parish.

We creepily followed the older lady up to the church steps, only then seeing the sign that confession was in an hour. She offered to let us in, but I balked, saying I would take a walk with the girls instead.

Mistake. It was SO HOT OUTSIDE. We said half a rosary, and hurried back to the cool air condition to wait out the rest of the 40 minutes. Grace and Laura were very reasonably behaved, especially considering Grace was missing her second nap for mama's reconciliation.

Finally, it was almost time for Father to come out. The older lady re-approached me, and introduced herself as Monica, the sacristan before 5 p.m. mass. She offered to watch the girls while I was in the booth. I piled the girls into their double stroller and off they went! Monica very slowly pushed them around the church, and it seemed to calm them both into silence.

Father came out: I stood awkwardly, allowing him to put out his little name plate before I dove into the kneeler. It had been too long since my last confession.

And it was a good one. I felt my heart being opened. The beauty of confession is that, while Christ already knows all, you are the one that brings forth your sin and admits to them. You must present yourself honestly, humbly and with the dignity of knowing you are wrong, and determine to do right. The priest is a minister of Christ: in persona Christi, in the person of Christ. ("Only Christ is the true priest, the others being only his ministers" as St. Thomas Aquinas said, as quoted in the Catechism). This man of God listened to me, and responded so gently and thoughtfully that I finally had to say,

"Father, that is my child screaming."

Yes, in an attempt to quiet Laura's more frequent whining, the lady had picked up Laura, who then realized her own mother was not pushing the stroller, and thus decided to test the acoustics in the buttressed church.

She was full-out crying. Father acknowledged this, and continued his counsel. I have to tell you: I expected to feel mortified. I did not. I felt love.

I felt the love of this priest, counseling me.
I felt the love of the Lord through the sacraments.
I felt the love of a community of believers as they (yes, I walked out to many) tried to pacify my daughter. (Grace was shockingly calm! They usually pair up when one starts crying.)
I felt the love of my baby daughter, crying out for her mother.
I felt the love of forgiveness; the love of mercy.

I also thought of Hell, which is not to be feared for its flames, but rather, the total absence of God. Laura felt my absence, and wailed. I thought, This is what brings me back to mass every week, and to confession: my soul screams for God because I love him, even when I am not feeling amorous. Sin does that - pushes us away from God. Reconciliation brings us back.

O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended you and I detest all my sins, because I dread the loss of heaven and the pains of hell. But most of all because I have offended you, my God, who are all good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve with the help of your grace, to confess my sins, to do penance and to amend my life. Amen. (An Act of Contrition)

As I walked out of the booth, I felt light and immediately went to pick up Laura, red in the face and sobbing. As I held her, even for those brief first moments, she calmed down and stopped crying. My child, I love you. I said this to Laura. God says this to each of us.

The lady then offered to help me to the door ("You can say your prayers later, okay?") and I laughed a little at the whole scenario. I buckled Laura back into her seat, thanked the lady, and off we went. Both girls ended up falling asleep before we arrived at our next destination: the grocery store.

That was the first time I've wrangled both girls to confession by myself, and surely not to be my last. It was, more importantly, another opportunity to say "I am sorry." We're teaching Grace to say "sorry" - she says "uh oh!" when she drops things, which is super cute, except when it's on purpose/ food-related. I repeat ad nauseam: "Uh oh! You did that on purpose, Grace! Let's say, Sorry Mama!"

Is Grace saying "sorry" yet? No. Does she understand what "sorry" means? Absolutely. Today, Will and I were busy cleaning, etc. and not paying close attention to Grace. She became absolutely irate at us, and we scooped her up and placed her on our bed. She wouldn't look at us. We sat with her, explained that we were cleaning, we love her and we are sorry she is feeling upset. We apologized to her and asked for a hug. She hugged us both.

It's essential for me to model humility; the inability to admit one is wrong (or might be wrong) is a harmful vice - it leads to dishonesty, stubbornness and a close-mindedness that is hard to crack. I want my children to know that struggling is okay. Struggling breeds innovation if positively encouraged.

Pride is forever my confession-worthy vice, but I, a disciple of the Lord, "urge you to live in a manner worthy of the call you have received, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another through love, striving to preserve the unity of the spirit through the bond of peace."

Love like a child, forgive like the Lord. God, keep me humble! (Ouch, this prayer is going to hurt.)

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My View (vol. 29)

What I am reading: history books - I have three power points to finish this week. I am not freaking out, no, why do you ask? (WHY DO YOU ASK?!?)

Also, Doctor Grumpy's blog. He makes me laugh!

Love what I am eating: Apple Cinnamon Cheerios and Macintosh Apples (not at the same time) and THIS:

OH YES.

Meal planning: Crockpot week! I bought a family pack of chicken breasts - I'm currently planning on fixing creamy chicken and broccoli over rice (again, because it delicious, warm, comforting and easy-peasy) and am on the hunt for another chicken crockpot recipe. My friend Jess posted 33 three ingredient crock pot meals, which all look good.

We do have BBQ sauce, so I might fix baked barbecue chicken. Oh! If I remember, I'll e-mail my mother for the recipe for Chicken Crack, a ye olde family favorite. I don't know it's "real" name - our family loves it so much that we call is Chicken Crack, because it's addictively delicious. (Stay tuned! At the very least, I'll have her fix it when she comes in March.)

Any [delicious/ healthy/ easy] chicken recipes you love to share?

This week in history: It was an awesome week from the vantage point that Will was just home more. I am trying to jump ahead in work for when Bebe Deux comes, while simultaneously keeping up with grading and teaching. Will loves being back in the ER, and is studying for a big test at the end of this month. The great news is that he was granted a few vacation days after bebe is due!!

Meanwhile, I am big things poppin'...!

Grace is doing well in therapy - I am constantly reminding myself, "Slow progress is still progress." Some days are awesome days. Some days are fighting days. And then, some days are surprise-filled.

Yesterday, Grace and I went grocery shopping; I bought her a Valentine's Day balloon and she loves it.

This morning, Will was holding Grace next to it while they waited for me to put my boots on before leaving for mass. Grace started hitting the balloon with her right hand on her own - THIS IS HUGE. She does more with it when prompted by us, or forced to - we have not seen a lot of willingness to use it on her own. Okay, tearing up. Our daughter is a rock star!

She discovered PhotoBooth this week:

We're celebrating Mardi Gras from afar:

We had good friends come visit!

Prayers: This week, I encountered a young Catholic really struggling with the Church. The interaction was extremely hostile. I'm still feeling very troubled by the lack of mercy and compassion shown to our fellow Catholics and human beings, as well as boxed-in version of thinking.

Please pray for those whom are being spiritually attacked - let Christ's light shine into the darkness of our doubts and the drudgery of our life on earth, as Job said today in the first reading. This earth groans beneath the weight of our fallenness, and I pray for renewed strength to carry our crosses.

Also, tomorrow is my cousin B's birthday. She passed away 6 months ago - please pray for her, and our family. I miss her so much.

Next week, I am going to: NOT GO INTO LABOR. I've given Bebe Deux multiple reasons not to come before February 16.

If you're a lady and on twitter, you should join in the Blessed Is She's #BISchat tomorrow evening at 9 pm EST. Here's the transcript (most of it!) from last time/ January's session. Such a wonderful community of women!

Have a great week!

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Internet Ire and Righteous Results

The readings for February 6, 2015:

First reading: Hebrews 13:1-8
Responsorial Psalm: PS 27:1, 3, 5, 8B-9ABC
Alleluia: Luke 8:15
Gospel: Mark 6:14-29

Pope Francis “hanging out” via Google with kids with disabilities from around the world

There is a lot of hostility being generated in the online worlds. I teach my history students that this is the result of fear. Fear prompts a tongue lashing, or a dismissing of people and ideas. Fear prompts distrust, disloyalty, and a vengeful spirit. There is no peace where there is fear, and the growth of hate.

The LORD is my light and my salvation;
whom should I fear?
The LORD is my life’s refuge;
of whom should I be afraid? 

Who do we hate? We hate the ones who disagree with us, who challenge us. We hate that our pope makes gaffes (like we all do – and none ex cathedra, I might add). We hate when fellow Catholics misrepresent the universal Catholic Church. The Venerable Archbishop Fulton Sheen rightly said, “Not 100 in the United States hate the Roman Catholic Church, but millions hate what they mistakenly think the Roman Catholic Church is.” The kaleidoscope of faith should keep us humble. Too often, however, we miss the irony of ourselves not showing mercy and love to others.

Blessed are they who have kept the word with a generous heart,
and yield a harvest through perseverance.

The ability to be kind in the face of cruelty is the redemption of humanity; to seek to benefit others, not just ourselves; to spread love instead of coveting it; to know the race is worth running, even when we struggle to keep up. This is what sainthood means: to be generous in this life as God is with us, and to bring Christ to others in reflection of the way He seeks us. To know of Christ and to know Christ are two different hearts.

Let brotherly love continue.
Do not neglect hospitality,
for through it some have unknowingly entertained angels.

In all our interactions, we must love. These are the greatest commandments. It is our love of God which motivates us to love our neighbor as ourself. Hospitality is in the home, yes, and in all interactions. The internet is not a safe-zone. It is a place where hearts can be met, changed, and nourished. Today, let us not be as King Herod – let us not slaughter the righteous because they mis-worded their argument, or believe something we disagree with, or fear others if we do not publicly act in a certain way.

Remember your leaders who spoke the word of God to you.
Consider the outcome of their way of life and imitate their faith.
Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever.

Jesus Christ is the same forever, no matter what someone’s Facebook post or Tweet said. Let the Lord be our light!

{Originally posted at Ignitum Today}

Michael Keaton and a Grateful Heart

Last night at the Golden Globes, Michael Keaton said the reason people go on about thanking so many people is because there are so many people to thank.

The heart of his thankfulness? His family. Watch and listen here - so much goodness, truth and beauty. I really love this little speech, and I am glad he was able to give it!

H/T Deacon Greg Kandra at Patheos

A Whole New Year for Grace

Today is the start of Advent, the Christian new year. It is St. Andrew's feast day (join me for the novena! starts today!), and it is Grace Harriet's one year anniversary of her baptism!

Grace was baptized at Our Lord Christ the King Catholic Church in Cincinnati, Ohio - the parish I received three of my four sacraments. She was baptized by our parish priest, who married Will and I just shy of a year earlier.

The quest of Christian parents is to raise their children in the faith- but what did that mean for us? Will and I have explored different avenues, especially where a baby - who is definitely not at the age of reason - is concerned. We want her to be exposed to the Christian life and community, so that she may come to know Christ personally and see him in all around her when she is old enough to comprehend and be able to accept Catholicism with reason.

Tonight, we are going to light her baptismal candle and say the following with/for her:

V. Do you reject Satan?
R. I do.
V. And all his works?
R. I do. 
V. And all his empty promises?
R. I do. 
V. Do you believe in God, the Father Almighty, creator of heaven and earth?
R. I do. 
V. Do you believe in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord, who was born of the Virgin Mary was crucified, died, and was buried, rose from the dead, and is now seated at the right hand of the Father?
R. I do. 
V. Do you believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy Catholic church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and life everlasting?
R. I do. 
V. God, the all-powerful Father of our Lord Jesus Christ has given us a new birth by water and the Holy Spirit, and forgiven all our sins. May he also keep us faithful to our Lord Jesus Christ for ever and ever.
R. Amen. 

We guide Grace to teach her about God, so that she may see truth through example and learning. Her father and I are still on our own spiritual journeys - and with Grace, we are given further incentive to seek goodness and God.

Happy new year in Christ, little daughter. May God continue to pour his blessings and mercy upon you!

Do you celebrate baptisms in your family? Or did you celebrate growing up? This is a new tradition we are starting in our family, and I am excited to see how the children like it as well in the years to come!

St. Elizabeth of Hungary and Me

Happy feast day to my patron saint, whose name I took at Confirmation - St. Elizabeth of Hungary!

'St. Elizabeth of Hungary Spinning for the Poor' (1895) by Marianne Stokes

I wrote on her choosing me - "Saint of Hungary and the Homeless" - may she continue to intercede in my life!

Do you have a patron saint? How did he or she choose you?

The Gift James Foley Gave Me

When I went upstairs this morning to tell Will about the essay I had read, I hadn't expected to start crying again.

I cried the first time promptly after finishing the last two sentences:

"If nothing else, prayer was the glue that enabled my freedom, an inner freedom first and later the miracle of being released during a war in which the regime had no real incentive to free us. It didn’t make sense, but faith did."

I was on our bed with Grace, and she giggled as I briefly cried, finished changing her diaper, put her down for a nap, and went upstair to Will's office.

I announced to him that I finally knew what I would write about for my Ignitum Today post due on Friday: an essay by James Foley, the American journalist beheaded by ISIS, for his alma mater Marquette University. It was written in 2011, after he was released from captivity in Libya.

He wrote about the power of prayer. He wrote about saying the rosary in his cell: the 100 Hail Marys on his knuckles; an Our Father between every 10 Hail Marys; how praying the rosary, like his mother and grandmother would do, helped keep his mind clear.

He prayed out loud with his colleague, Clare: "It felt energizing to speak our weaknesses and hopes together, as if in a conversation with God, rather than silently and alone."

He wrote about his conversation with his mother, and how prayer penetrates hearts, minds, and across continents:

“I’ve been praying for you to know that I’m OK,” I said. “Haven’t you felt my prayers?”
“Oh, Jimmy, so many people are praying for you. All your friends... Your brother Michael loves you so much.” She started to cry. “The Turkish embassy is trying to see you and also Human Rights Watch. Did you see them?” I said I hadn’t.
“They’re having a prayer vigil for you at Marquette. Don’t you feel our prayers?” she asked.
“I do, Mom, I feel them,” and I thought about this for a second. Maybe it was others’ prayers strengthening me, keeping me afloat.

That vision of the community of saints -- I couldn't shake it from me -- and how one person's faith can ground reality into another person. I thought about saying prayers with Grace before bed, and night prayers with Will before going to sleep. I thought about how much I struggle with getting to daily mass, and the constant distractions posed to each of us in an attempt to dissuade us from praying more and more - to lessen our communication with God.

There is a violent, religious war going on in the world. People are attempting to shape the world in their own image - an image of what they imagine Heaven should be, and are instead creating Hell. People are being beheaded, killed, raped, starved, exiled, beaten and tortured.

I am at home, bemoaning the laundry that has piled up, and that I need to clean up the downstairs before our babysitter candidate comes over for her interview. I know the work I do is important - taking care of one's family and home is a noble duty. But I need to seek more solitude and joy from the act of praying and the love of Scripture. I read when I "have time" and pray "when I can" -- but they should be more ingrained in our life. They should have more priority seating. My God is worth glorifying, and my faith is worth strengthening.

James Foley - may the angels sing you home, and may God welcome you into Heaven. Thank you for your words. Thank you for your witness. May the Lord continue to bless your family, and may they find solace in your life, heart and faith. Thank you for reminding me that the freedom of religion is not only a legal protection, but the freedom to practice my faith in both public and private. The freedom, as Blessed John Paul II said, to do what we ought.

My View (vol. 9)

St. Patrick's Cathedral downtown was the first church Will and I went to for mass. We went to five o'clock mass, and I still remember listening to the priest whose radio voice led me blissfully through the liturgies. We went to five o'clock mass there the next three months, missing only once, when we forgot about the conflicting calendar of New Orleans' official religion, Saints football.

The church is gorgeous, old, full of history, traditional and welcoming. Since having Grace, we've started attending the church closer to our apartment (equally staggering in tabernacle and architectural glory); I still try to go to noon mass there, when possible.

I love the scenes from Jesus' life on Earth behind the tabernacle, the gorgeous stained glass windows, the heavy, dark wood pews, the scallop over the Gospel/ homily podium, and the carving details in the columns and arches overhead. 

An InLinkz Link-up

Love and Sunshine and Sex and Poop

Happy Thursday from New Orleans, where it's winter, but never snowing. Instead, my nemesis, ice, reigns on the colder days. They shut down two highways over it. At least it's sunnier now, and we can take walks up to St. Charles Street, where we always talk about going to the Trolley Stop Cafe, and always seem to forget around meal times. Besides, even though we live in a foodie dream center, we hardly eat out.

St. Valentine's feast day is tomorrow, as are the more sombering feast days of Sts. Cyril and Methodius and St. Maro. I toyed with surprising Will with Fisherman's Stew, but I'll more than likely plan it for another day, since I do not see the need to do budget maneuvering to celebrate Valentine's Day.

This does not mean I do not appreciate it as a holiday; I am always looking for an excuse to bake dessert and when Grace is older and knows what is going on in the world, I want to give her (and the future littles) a big Valentine's Day balloon and put an enormous red or pink bow on her head.

But there will be no present exchanging, no special dinner, and no hype. There will only be extra kisses and a baby to fuss over, and hopefully mass in the morning, if ice stays away.

It is true that Valentine's Day-at-large celebrate general love, and is not merely for romantic love, and to look at Valentine's Day as such is narrow vision. I loved making and giving cards away to my classmates in grade school, and creating my very own mailbox out of a shoebox. And it is equally true how ridiculous it is to go to the grocery store in January and see stuffed bears holding hearts, and dozens of balloons, and dozens of roses, and all for one day. I would rather see those bears and hearts and balloons and roses available every day, rather than marked up drastically and dropped into the pit-of-sale! sale! sale! on February 15.

But is what we're looking for general love in society? Our openness to love seems to only be on certain terms: give and take.

Last year, I cried when my husband did not wish me a happy Valentine's day. I laugh now, and maybe I should blame it on the pregnancy hormones, but we were apart and he forgot. We had never celebrated it when we were dating or engaged, and I suppose I expected to celebrate it because St. Valentine is the patron saint of married couples, and finally, I felt like my time had come.

And what changed? you might ask. In my case, it was a reality check of sorts. A decision of what we celebrate and why. My husband the rationalist believes that if you do anything or believe anything, you must have a reason why. My whimsical mind likes to jump into the future, into possibility, and into loving everyone and everything around me.

I don't have a good reason for celebrating the secular Valentine's Day, except the want/need to eat heart-shaped cookies or red velvet cupcakes, buy balloons and dress Grace and myself in bright colors. And while I wouldn't mind flowers, what I mostly want to do on Valentine's Day is to acknowledge the gift of sex between married couples.

The Planned Parenthood signs twirling around the internet of #WhatWomenNeed for St. Valentine's Day had a lovely assortment provided to the organization Women Speak for Themselves, and here's mine:

Proper Education and Factual Information About Their Body

This post isn't about having babies or saying you should all have one (now! right now!); it's about natural family planning. It's about knowing your body and trusting yourself over a pill (a class 1 carcinogen), the only medication people take when their body is working correctly. It's about the best thing you can do in your marriage, together.

Before you roll your eyes and say that everyone who practices that are parents, you should know that I believe the strongest cause for objection is out of fear; and while I understand those fears, I also know that NFP is the best thing for marriage. Even when I give you the reasons, perhaps you'll think, I already have those down pat with my spouse. And maybe you do. But organic sex is like eating organic food - once you know the taste, anything else seems second-rate.

Firstly, nothing says "I love you, all of you" like NFP. Women's fertility is a cycle, and one that can be clearly charted if you take the time to learn the signs. It is an opinion to say cervical mucus is gross - it is a fact to say cervical mucus is the body's way of telling you when you can (or cannot, if you abstain) get pregnant. Ditto goes for temperature, sensation and peeing in a cup (all other methods of NFP).

Hey girl... I love you just the way you are.

There is no need to take cough medicine every day to prevent a cough, just like there is no reason to take birth control every day (or have is physically present in your body) to prevent pregnancy. A woman can only become pregnant 5-6 days a month. She is not constantly fertile like a man; and yet the woman has to take the drug to suppress her fertility.

More than the clinical side, though, there is a freedom in the mutual love-making, and the mutual giving. There is an intimacy and warmth of a couple who shares equally in knowledge and decision-making. There is love in valuing the fertility of both parties - loving the whole person. There is nothing contraceptive in mindset or in actions when participating in NFP; each person is totally open in love, in understanding, and in generosity.

Then, there's the abstinence, if you're TTA (trying to avoid). Will and I did that over our honeymoon, and it provided us with a lot of time to discuss why we were avoiding. NFP is not a default - married couples, in their vows, promise to be open to children. Will and I decided that we did not have a serious reason to avoid becoming pregnant; and we did, even though it was a 20 percent chance.

Natural, no health-risks and a 98.6 percent effectiveness rating aside, Will and I practice NFP because couples who do have a less than 5 percent divorce rate. The reason for that is the amazing communication skills a couple must develop. It's not just about already having the necessary "skills" - it's a willingness and an openness to having a tough conversation, to being honest, and to giving and accepting love, not giving and taking. NFP is pure vulnerability, and it's pushed me and tried me and helped me love Will the best way I can, and for the best reasons. NFP is not a good in itself, but it is walk worth taking, and a discussion worth having.

Valentine's Day is one day out of the year; in the scheme of things, it seems like a fine day to remind ourselves to love a little more. But love looks different in the lens of marriage and parenthood when there is more on the line - when your heart surges because your baby just pooped and your husband is going to change it so you can keep type-type-typing. Fixing dinner to nourish your loved ones; decorating the town house because it's our home; sweet kisses and a gurgling baby who has discovered how to make loud bubbles using her tongue and lips.

This year, when you're celebrating love, start celebrating an openness to love, and toast to the grand adventure that is an ordinary, beautiful life.

**
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Showing Up: Santa and the Saints

TBM Topic #36: Feast Days and Holidays

Growing up, I remember Christmas Eves of past, staring out the window of my bedroom, waiting to see the silhouette of Santa and his reindeer cross over the moon. Then Christmas would happen, Santa would eat all the cookies, there would be family all around, and we'd keep the tree up for another couple weeks, until the approach of Lent shamed us into taking all the holly down.

The real fun, however, was in Advent. The grand preparations for the feast of Christ's birth as we set up the Nativity scene, lit the Advent candles, said our prayers and ate our meals. We celebrated the feast of St. Nick and read from the gospel of Luke. We fixed plates upon plates of white chocolate and festive M&Ms covered pretzels for our teachers.

After watching Bonnie's video, I realized that my holidays I had growing up were minimal on the liturgical living scale and perhaps more focused on Santa and his crew, but my parents taught me the importance of Christ's coming, the story of the Nativity, the unimportance of presents, the gift of gratitude, and a thankful heart.

Santa Does Not Take Away from Jesus

Santa Claus, whether he is in the form of St. Nick the Heresy Puncher or the Jolly Fat Man Who Delivers Gifts, is part of our culture. As Mary (our Lord's mother) is frequently a red herring for idolatry, so Santa is a red herring for a lack of reverence at Christmas. Is it Santa's fault that people sing "Here Comes Santa Claus" and not "Here Comes the Christ Child (right down Christ Child Lane)!"? Santa appeals to a wider audience because of his inherent goodness and generosity. He freely gives presents away to boys and girls of the world -- and it is us consumers who have made him an idol of the season.

As I've written before, I do not think there is a dichotomy between Santa and Jesus the Infant, because they are on two different levels of the season. Santa Claus is part of a child's imagination, the personification of goodness. Jesus Christ is love, and for those who do not know him, Santa Claus can be a gateway. Is Santa a substitute for Christ? Absolutely not. A harmless addition to a Christian feast day which has also become a cultural holiday? Yes. Let Santa be the gift-giver who keeps on giving, and share the message of Christ to help him better permeate the culture.

A Saint's Feast Day = Mini Fourth of July

Think of the holidays, as a country, we celebrate. There are three days of obligation between the start of Advent and the Epiphany: the Immaculate Conception (December 8), Christmas (December 25) and Mary, the Mother of God (January 1).

Other feast days:
December 3 - St. Francis Xavier
December 6 - St. Nicholas
December 9 - Blessed Juan Diego 
December 12 - Our Lady of Guadalupe 
December 13 - St. Lucy
December 14 - St. John of the Cross 
December 26 - St. Stephen 
December 27 - St. John the Evangelist
December 28 - The Holy Innocents 
December 30 - The Holy Family 
January 4 - St. Elizabeth Ann Seton 
January 6 - The Epiphany

First Sunday after the Epiphany - The Baptism of Our Lord (end of the Christmas season)

The saints of Advent are more brothers and sisters to invite to your holiday parties. They have awesome stories to tell, they give assistance in our times of need, and we can celebrate their lives just as we celebrate birthdays, the birth of our country, the birth of our Lord, and new years and beginnings.

The Importance of Showing Up

The shepherds came to see Jesus; the Magi came to see Jesus; the practicing and the lackadaisical go to Mass to see our Lord. And that's important. In Brene Brown's Daring Greatly, she tells the story of her daughter not wanting to swim in the heat her coach put her in; her daughter didn't think she could win, and everyone would be watching:

This was an opportunity to move the levers--to refine what's important to her. To make our family culture more influential that the swim meet, her friends, and the ultracompetitive sports culture that is rampant in our community. I looked at her and said, "You can scratch that event. I'd probably consider that option too. But what if that race isn't to win or even to get out of the water at the same time as the other girls? What if your goal is to show up and get wet? ... Sometimes the bravest and most important thing you can do is show up."

I used to wonder at the end of Harry Potter, when J.K. Rowling wrote that Harry and Dudley sat with each other tersely every holiday, and it's beautiful. Hospitality and the opening of one's heart towards the welfare of others can only be fulfilled when another sees the good in that time spent together.

For many, when it comes to Mass and spending time with the Lord, it can be a struggle. Maybe it's boring. Maybe there's too much singing. But mostly, I suspect, the relationship is weak. We cannot expect to feel a strong connection with God if we do not show up and spend time with him; if we do not pray and talk to him; if we focus on negativity and not on the possibility of falling in love.

The opportunity to spend time with the Lord is here, and Christmas is when we celebrate his entrance into the world as a baby, completely vulnerable. Christmas is a time for us all to show up.

Gratitude and Thanks-giving

But let us not forget the presents in the midst of his Presence. Feast days and holidays are opportunities for food sharing and gift giving. There can be excess of both, and a belittlement of thoughtfulness. If we learn anything from the saints, it is the ability to accept the gifts God has given us. Be they spiritual, physical or cultivated virtues, the gifts one has should be regularly appreciated.

Nothing is guaranteed in this life, and the holidays seem to be prime ground for pettiness and poking our loved ones. Instead of reassuring one another of our love and building the walls of trust higher, we look for cracks and find reasons to grumble. Instead of replying back to a "funny joke" with a biting jab, think, "Is this the hill I wish to die on?"

One way to fight back against bitterness is to count your blessings - literally. Embrace your inner Pollyanna, smile to show your gratitude, say "thank you" often, have an accountability partner, and pray. When we start to consciously focus on the positives, the negatives fade faster and neatly away.

The reason for the season is renewal - the birth of the Lord, the bringing peace into the world. There will never be an end of conflict as sin continues to ravage this weary world, but we can love at home, as Blessed Mother Teresa said in her Nobel Peace prize acceptance speech:

"You too try to bring that presence of God in your family, for the family that prays together stays together. And I think that we in our family don't need bombs and guns, to destroy to bring peace - just get together, love one another, bring that peace, that joy, that strength of presence of each other in the home. And we will be able to overcome all the evil that is in the world. 

There is so much suffering, so much hatred, so much misery, and we with our prayer, with our sacrifice are beginning at home. Love begins at home, and it is not how much we do, but how much love we put in the action that we do. It is to God Almighty - how much we do it does not matter, because He is infinite, but how much love we put in that action. How much we do to Him in the person that we are serving."

In perspective, whether we celebrate Santa or only discuss Christ; whether we make cookies or buy them from the store; whether we live liturgically or just try to live in imitation of Christ -- if we do not live in love, if we do not love our families, and if we do not forgive ourselves to failing to live up to our own standards, then we miss the opportunity to know Christ better, which is what every day alive is really about.

{See the FB page for more! Happy feast of the Holy Family!}

#7QT: Hey Jealousy

Apparently it is Friday... I am losing all track of the days. Thanks to Jen, Cari & co. for keeping "it" going! (psst, look at Cari's awesome post about her awesome book)

ONE

Okay, I am giving myself 15 minutes to write this post as Will paces back and forth with Miss Fussykins, a.k.a. Grace Harriet, the newest member of the Baldwin Bunch. (Birth story here for those late to the game!)

Yawn.

This morning, I woke up with the newest emotion to add to my "new mom emotion spectrum": jealousy. I was wildly jealous of how Grace just plopped to back to sleep after her morning feedings because "someone" kept me up till 2 a.m.

Instead of getting mad, I sang this song instead:



I saw them in concert a few years ago with my cousin Sarah... it was free, and awesome. Grace and I also jump in the car, but the cops don't chase us around. I also thought his song was "Hey Jessie" growing up, but we all know Rick Springfield already tapped that for a title.

TWO

If you want delicious reads to appear in your inbox each day, may I recommend subscribing to Prufrock: Books, Art, Ideas by Micah Mattix via The American Conservative? Just lovely. Subscribe here!

THREE

In college, my Latin professor loved telling us that at school, you could study, sleep or socialize - that is, pick two out of those three. I hated that advice, but maybe because my socialization usually fell through the cracks - clubs, newspaper writing, Kappa, eating, etc.

Now that I am an adult, I wonder: what are the three things one can do in a day, and then pick two of them? I've decided it's clean - write - take care of baby. (Coffee, eating and sleep are non-negotiable!)

What are your three?

FOUR

In honor of Blessed John Paul II's feast day on October 22:

FIVE

If someone told you they were considering converting to Catholicism and asked you to weigh in, what would you say? A friend asked me this week. Now, I've been blessed to have a couple friends convert and talk me through their thoughts, and pray with them, and pray for them. But every person is different, and so my answer is never quite the same... but it always comes back to the Eucharist for me. The whole of life stems from that, what it means, and our physical encounter with Christ.

Perhaps that is why my favorite part of mass is, "Lord, I am not worthy to have you come under my roof; but only say the word, and my soul shall be healed."

SIX

In a fit of exhaustion earlier this week, after finally settling Grace down for her nap, I threw myself on the bed and my glasses broke. Join me in mourning the loss of my dear friends.

I know Grace; I'm really sad too!

SEVEN

Annnnnnnd Grace is still sobbing. But here's a cute picture of her to go! My friend Kate got her a "Future Senator" hat.

Her dad doesn't want her to go into politics; I think she looks smashing in pink!

Oh! Oh! For those who live in places where it is perpetually summer, how do you celebrate Fall?? I miss the leaves changing colors...

Happy weekend!

Regret-less Sex

Originally published at The Mirror Magazine (July 8, 2013)

Life isn't always what you expect, and this post I'm writing was not my initially chosen topic. Instead, I'm writing in response to a few articles I read today, and a conversation I had with one of my husband's classmates.

Today is Will's first day of school for his Master's program, and there was an open reception which I invited myself to as his special guest. Nothing fancy: his classmates, the program directors and corresponding staff, and me, the pregnant lady in the striped dress. The girl next to me and I struck up a conversation, gaining speed as we realized she grew up about 45 minutes from where my husband went to college. We talked about our shared faith, her boyfriend, my pregnancy, where we came from and why we moved to New Orleans.

"Sorry if this is too forward," she said suddenly, "But do you use Natural Family Planning?"

"We do," I said.

"Was the pregnancy planned?" she asked.

"Yes," I said as my husband said "No."

I smiled, and explained that we conceived on my P3 day, which is the third day past my Peak Day and the last day of my fertile time. We knew we could get pregnant if we had sex, and rolled the dice. We got pregnant. Will says "no" because we had originally planned on waiting to try for a mini-us till the fall, but we also had sex knowing we could become pregnant.

She smiled and nodded, and the conversation went on. It wasn't awkward, as the over-details I shared above may seem. I share those details because I need people to know: creation is no mistake.

The babble I hear surrounding sex is dehumanizing. Another couple broken up over infidelity. Pornography distorting love between people. Abortion on demand, with no apologies. Support contraceptives because then abortions will be reduced. Unrealistic sex-pectations, less romance and true love. And, more recently, a friend's testimony about how being raised Catholic made sex (especially pre-marital sex) a source of fear, shame and guilt.

In all of this, I think of my husband, I think of my baby, and I think of the dignity my faith gives me as a woman.

Drawn by Bill Donaghy

My husband Will and I married each other with the understanding that we will always be married. We married without having sex beforehand, and we married with the expectation of growing our family size from two to many in its formative years. We married in the Catholic Church, of which we are active members. We have different spiritual lives, but the same faith. Before we married, we prepared our bodies for marriage by first preparing our hearts and minds. We talked about everything! We agreed, disagreed, reasoned, compromised, and worked together, hand in hand, in the making of "us". Without us, together, there can be no children.

As a couple, we practiced a lot of self-control while we were dating and engaged. Those biological wants, needs and desires are not reserved for the non-believers: they are human wants, needs, and desires. But a person doesn't lose weight by eating chocolate cake and then throwing it up anymore than a person can have consequence-less sex - there are always emotional ties if not physically bonding ones. And more often than not, the "consequence" is a tiny human being, whose life should not be terminated "with no apologies".

Greg Pfundstein writes at The Corner,

President Johnson’s fruitless War on Poverty kicked off the nation’s misguided birth-control crusade with grants for “family planning” in 1965. The effort was redoubled in 1970 when, thanks to the efforts of John D. Rockefeller III and George H. W. Bush, Title X of the Public Health Service Act was signed into law by Richard Nixon the day after Christmas. Since 1970, the out-of-wedlock birthrate has tripled to 41 percent. With the help of the Supreme Court with its 1973 Roe v. Wade decision, we have also seen the number of abortions spike through the 1980s and reach an equilibrium today at between 1.2 and 1.3 million annually. Both results are at least unexpected from the perspective of a public policy based on the premise that access to contraception will decrease the rate of unintended pregnancies.

The family planning my husband and I do is scientific and based on my body's natural signs. Just as I prefer eating organic and hormone-free food, I am not inclined to put hormonal birth control pills into my body when I am only fertile 5-6 days a month (or 60-72 days out of 365 - below 20% of my year).

Moreover, the reason couples who practice NFP have a 2-5% divorce rate is not because the pool of participants is so small - it is because of the constant communication the couple has about their sex life. And after you've talked about mucus with your loved one, there really isn't anything a person can't discuss openly. Communication is the bedrock of relationships, of love, and essential in decision-making.

Sex is empowering because I have my husband's total love, trust and faithfulness. I find sex beautiful, amazing and dignity-enhancing, and I am sorry when people's experiences with the Church's teachings on sexuality are negative and guilt-ridden. But their experiences do not negate the true beauty of the Church's teachings, especially Theology of the Body. I know that I opposed sex before marriage when I was younger because I knew people who had been pressured into it, and that scared me. I did not want to be pressured - I wanted to have it freely. I opposed it when I was older when I saw how friends reacted when their boyfriends treated them, used them, dumped them. Will and I talked about what would happen if we had sex before marriage, and agreed: it would be great, but we would regret it. It would feel great, but it would not be as great as having the sacramental all-access pass to the whole person.

There are no regrets in my marriage when we have sex. There are no regrets that I am pregnant so soon after marriage. There are no regrets in sharing all of this, because I want people to know. Sex does not have to be split between the "good" and the "bad", but rather the "true love" and the "love-ish." The -ish means, "I love you but": but not your fertility, but not your baggage, but not your hips, but not all of you. True love means, I love all of you; I will cherish you when I am angry, I will appreciate you when you annoy me, I will trust you above all others, and protect your heart in mine.

It's okay to be scared of pregnancy - Mary was frightened by the angel came to her. She was going to be a seen as having a child out-of-wedlock, and her engagement was almost broken off. She was being given a huge responsibility, a child, the child of God. That wasn't an easy "yes" she said.

NFP isn't easy. Self-control isn't easy. Marriage isn't easy. But they're all worth it. True love is worth it. Protecting the dignity and lives of other human beings is worth it. Supporting mothers is worth it. Honoring fathers is worth it.

And when my baby kicks me in the middle of the night, I know it -- the baby, my marriage, full-of-consequence sex -- is worth it.

Sunday Obligations

On Sundays and other holy days of obligation, the faithful are to refrain from engaging in work or activities that hinder the worship owed to God, the joy proper to the Lord's Day, the performance of the works of mercy, and the appropriate relaxation of mind and body. Family needs or important social service can legitimately excuse from the obligation of Sunday rest. The faithful should see to it that legitimate excuses do not lead to habits prejudicial to religion, family life, and health. The charity of truth seeks holy leisure -- the necessity of charity accepts just work (CCC 2185).

In other words, no regrets.

I'm currently trying to refrain from catching up on work on Sunday. The temptation is so easy, and the pay-off is immediate. But what of the long-term?

God has given us a day to rest and spend time with our family - how could we squander such a gift by worries and stress? Today, I'll be finishing up work like I usually do. But next Sunday? On Easter? No way. I'll be doing no work whatsoever.

Hopefully I'll carry that on for many Sundays to come as well!

Have a blessed Palm Sunday!

Viva il Papa!

CatholicVote put together this wonderful, short montage of Pope Francis's election. It made me cry tears of happiness, watching my fellow Catholics cheer at "Habemus Papam!" I was receiving text messages from friends all day at work in anticipation of our new pope, and I feel so blessed that our cardinals picked such a wonderful, holy and humble new pontiff.


God bless you, Pope Francis! I am praying for you. I am praying for the world.

In other news, help us trend #lovehimalready on Twitter!

On This Day

“The sudden news of the Pope's decision to retire at the end of this month has taken us all by surprise. But the shock of the realization that this good and gentle man, this wonderful Vicar of Christ, whose mind is as profound as his heart is fearless, should be tempered by the recognition that while popes come and go, the Church remains forever."

--Dr. Regis Martin,  Theology Department at Franciscan University of Steubenville

Go And Make Disciples of All Nations

World Youth Day 2013 is in Rio:


Gave me chills!

I went to WYD in Canada in 2002 and saw (and got a picture of!) Blessed John Paul II go by in his pope mobile, which made up for getting caught in the rain for 3 hours, et cetera. Anyone else have a memorable experience at WYD or hear of anything awesome connected to WYD? I think this event is possibly one of the most important evangelization and witness opportunities for the Church. I'm so excited to see the fruit of this one!

The night Dickens had a Marian vision

William Oddie writes in The Catholic Herald:

Though Dickens hated all displays of religious feeling, he had a distinct and sincerely held religion of his own, possibly influenced by the Unitarianism of his friend and biographer John Forster. In 1868 he gave a New Testament to a son setting out for Australia, “because it is the best book that ever was, or will be, known in the world”; and he wrote to him in order “most solemnly [to] impress upon [him] the truth and beauty of the Christian Religion, as it came from Christ Himself”. “Never,” he went on, “abandon the wholesome practice of saying your own private prayers, night and morning. I have never abandoned it myself, and I know the comfort of it.”

This was the Dickens who in 1844 underwent a religious experience (rarely written about), which he described vividly in a letter to Forster. “Let me tell you,” he wrote from Venice, “of a curious dream I had, last Monday night; and of the fragments of reality I can collect; which helped to make it up … In an indistinct place, which was quite sublime in its indistinctness, I was visited by a Spirit. I could not make out the face, nor do I recollect that I desired to do so. It wore a blue drapery, as the Madonna might in a picture by Raphael; and bore no resemblance to any one I have known except in stature … It was so full of compassion and sorrow for me… that it cut me to the heart; and I said, sobbing, ‘Oh! give me some token that you have really visited me!… Answer me one… question!’ I said, in an agony of entreaty lest it should leave me. ‘What is the True religion?’ As it paused a moment without replying, I said – Good God in such an agony of haste, lest it should go away! – ’You think, as I do, that the Form of religion does not so greatly matter, if we try to do good? or,’ I said, observing that it still hesitated, and was moved with the greatest compassion for me, ‘perhaps the Roman Catholic is the best? perhaps it makes one think of God oftener, and believe in him more steadily?’

“‘For you,’ said the Spirit, full of such heavenly tenderness for me, that I felt as if my heart would break; ‘for you it is the best!’ Then I awoke, with the tears running down my face, and myself in exactly the condition of the dream. It was just dawn.”

Was this a vision of the Blessed Virgin Mary, as many Catholics will naturally assume? During the course of the dream, Dickens made the assumption that he was speaking to his wife’s sister, Mary Hogarth, who had died in 1837, and whom he had dearly loved (though he also perceived that the spirit “bore no resemblance to any one I have known”). But he also explained the dream afterwards in explicitly Catholic terms, pointing out that there was “a great altar in our bed-room” where Mass had once regularly been said, and that he had been “listening to the convent bells (which ring at intervals in the night), and so had thought, no doubt, of Roman Catholic services”.

“Put the case,” he wrote to Forster, “of that wish” [the ambition he had expressed in an earlier letter, to leave in his writings his “hand upon the time … with one tender touch for the mass of toiling people that nothing could obliterate”] “being fulfilled by any agency in which I had no hand; and I wonder whether I should regard it as a dream, or an actual Vision!”

Read more here>>>>>>>

My Country Tis Of Thee

Happy Independence day, y'all!

From Catholic World Report, "10 Things You Should Know About the American Founding":

None of this should suggest, however, that all Americans held anti-Catholic views. Some of the most prominent Americans held absolutely no tolerance for intolerance. The most important was George Washington who accepted, without reservation, Catholics and Jews as fully republican citizens. In a March 1790 address to the Roman Catholics in the United States, he stated:

"As mankind become more liberal they will be more apt to allow that all those who conduct themselves as worthy members of the community are equally entitled to the protection of civil government. I hope ever to see America among the foremost nations in examples of justice and liberality. And I presume that your fellow-citizens will not forget the patriotic part which you took in the accomplishment of their Revolution, and the establishment of their government; or the important assistance which they received from a nation in which the Roman Catholic faith is professed. . . . And may the members of your society in America, animated alone by the pure spirit of Christianity, and still conducting themselves as the faithful subjects of our free government, enjoy every temporal and spiritual felicity."

Constitution Convention with George Washington

Another critic of anti-Catholicism was one of the least religious of the founders, Ben Franklin. In the spring of 1776, Franklin, Charles Carroll of Carrollton, and Jacky Carroll (Charles’s cousin and close friend) traveled to Canada in a failed mission to convince the Canadians to join the American cause. Along the way, Franklin and the two Carrolls struck up a strong friendship. After the success of the American war for Independence, the Vatican decided it was time to name a bishop in North America. No bishop, not even Anglican/Episcopalian bishops, had ever stepped foot in the thirteen colonies (or, states, after 1776). Hoping not to offend republican sensibilities, the Vatican contacted Franklin through two agents. Franklin said the man for the job was Jacky, and the Vatican consequently appointed John Carroll as the first archbishop in the United States.

From The Imaginative Conservative, "Americana Res Publica: No Revolution":

Despite our post-modern tendency to distort and mock the true meanings of words, America never has been, nor really can it be, a democracy. Indeed, as several founders made clear, democracy was a great evil, necessary perhaps in some manifestation, but not as the ruling element of a balanced government or a stable society. In the opening days of the Constitutional Convention in the summer of 1787, several participants described the havoc caused by too much democracy.

Gerry of Massachusetts lamented,

The evils we experience flow from the excess of democracy. The people do not want virtue; but are the dupes of pretended patriots [“demagogues” in the original; later corrected].

And, Randolph of Virginia proclaimed

the general object was to provide a cure for the evils under which the U.S. laboured; that in tracing these evils to their origin every man had found it in the turbulence and follies of democracy.

My favorite quote, though, comes from Fisher Ames, 1806:

Our disease is democracy. It is not the skin that festers--our very bones are carious, and their marrow blackens with gangrene. Which rogues shall be first, is of no moment--our republicanism must die, and I am sorry for it. But why should we care what sexton happens to be in office at our funeral? Nevertheless, though I indulge no hopes, I derive much entertainment from the squabbles in Madam Liberty’s family. After so many liberties have been taken with her, I presume she is not longer a miss and a virgin, though she may still be a goddess.

Poor Columbia.

And yet, as many Jacksonians wished it to be, the Republic was neither purely a commercial nor libertarian one. Indeed, the American founders crafted not a commercial republic, but a virtuous republic, allowing for commerce and liberty to serve as a means by which man could use each of his gifts wisely and for the common good (the good thing; the res publica).

While not all of the founders belonged to orthodox Christian denominations or even subscribed to Jewish or Christian orthodoxy, they each accepted most of what the Judeo-Christian context and heritage had bequeathed to them. Their understanding of liberty was not the collectivist or primivist liberty of Rousseau or the atheistic and abstract liberty of Locke, but the liberty of St. Paul as described in his letter to the Galatian Christian community, the freedom to do what one ought to do.

For most patriots, one could find the best definition of liberty in the prophetic writings of Micah (4:4), as our own John Willson has reminded us many times. “But they shall sit every man under his vine and fig tree, and none shall make them afraid,” the Jewish prophet had written.

In these understandings, rooted in the classical as well as the Judeo-Christian, the founders wanted to emulate Republican Rome, not Carthage, as another one of us, Gleaves Whitney, has poignantly argued.

(Both of the above articles were written by a great American and man, Brad Birzer.)

Any fun plans for today? I'm going to my future family's house in a bit.

In the meantime, I hope your heart swells and surges like mine when I hear this song:



Have a blessed day with family and friends, and God bless our country!

Leah: You Say That's Exactly How This Grace Thing Works

In honor of Leah Libresco of Unequally Yoked converting to Catholicism, here is a little Cormac McCarthy:

The old man swung his head back and forth. The way of the transgressor is hard. God made this world, but he didnt make it to suit everbody, did he?

I don't believe he much had me in mind.

Aye, said the old man. But where does a man come by his notions. What world's he seen that he liked better?

I can think of better places and better ways.

Can ye make it be?

No.

No. It's a mystery. A man's at odds to know his mind cause his mind is aught he has to know it with. He can know his heart, but he dont want to. Rightly so. Best not to look in there. It aint the heart of a creature that is bound in the way that God has set for it. You can find meanness in the least of creatures, but when God made man the devil was at his elbow. A creature that can do anything. Make a machine. And a machine to make the machine. And evil can run itself a thousand years, no need to tend it. You believe that?

I don't know.

Believe that.

--Cormac McCarthy, Blood Meridian

(I do so enjoy that passage. Hat tip to my Southern Lit. prof, Dr. Sommerville!)

Welcome home, Leah! You've been in my prayers for so long. God is so good!

Let us all pray for Leah, each other, and all those seeking Truth. Just as we'll never know what happened to Paul on the road to Damascus, we glean that each life has a its own path to God through Christ which shall never end in this world.

Oh, and here's a little Mumford and Sons, which is more than appropriate to blast for any occasion!

 

 Oh happy Monday!!!!!!!