Category Archives: Faith

Arm yourself

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After having more than a few rotten days and serious consideration of putting my armor up for sale on ebay, a very tall and holy man suggested I read this prayer. Perfect. Just what I needed. (Well, after I really read it a few times.) I love the ways God works in our lives.

St. Patrick’s Breastplate

I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through the belief in the threeness,
Through confession of the oneness
Of the Creator of Creation.

I arise today
Through the strength of Christ’s birth with his baptism,
Through the strength of his crucifixion with his burial,
Through the strength of his resurrection with his ascension,
Through the strength of his descent for the judgment of Doom.

I arise today
Through the strength of the love of Cherubim,
In obedience of angels,
In the service of archangels,
In hope of resurrection to meet with reward,
In prayers of patriarchs,
In predictions of prophets,
In preaching of apostles,
In faith of confessors,
In innocence of holy virgins,
In deeds of righteous men.

I arise today through God's strength to pilot me.

I arise today
Through the strength of heaven:
Light of sun,
Radiance of moon,
Splendor of fire,
Speed of lightning,
Swiftness of wind,
Depth of sea,
Stability of earth,
Firmness of rock.

I arise today
Through God’s strength to pilot me:
God’s might to uphold me,
God’s wisdom to guide me,
God’s eye to look before me,
God’s ear to hear me,
God’s word to speak for me,
God’s hand to guard me,
God’s way to lie before me,
God’s shield to protect me,
God’s host to save me
From snares of devils,
From temptations of vices,
From everyone who shall wish me ill,
Afar and anear,
Alone and in multitude.

I summon today all these powers between me and those evils,
Against every cruel merciless power that may oppose my body and soul,
Against incantations of false prophets,
Against black laws of pagandom
Against false laws of heretics,
Against craft of idolatry,
Against spells of witches and smiths and wizards,
Against every knowledge that corrupts man’s body and soul.

Christ to shield me today
Against poison, against burning,
Against drowning, against wounding,
So that there may come to me abundance of reward.
Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down, Christ when I arise,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,
Christ in every eye that sees me,
Christ in every ear that hears me.

I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through belief in the threeness,
Through confession of the oneness,
Of the Creator of Creation.

40 deeds done dirt cheap

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In addition to more prayer and observing church fasts, etc., some of my Lenten promises are

  1. to get rid of 40 bags of stuff around here (inspired by a post at Faith and Family Live).
  2. complete 40 tedious tasks –the stuff that doesn’t affect daily function, but needs to be done (like re-line the one kitchen drawer that needs it, fix the two-inches of peeled paint on a shoe molding in the bathroom, rotate children’s books, etc.). I know, it’s hard not to count the many tedious tasks of daily life in this, but apparently clothing and feeding my children actually affect daily life.
  3. Write 40 letters for life. The idea here is to send letters to corporations that have been tagged as donating to Planned Parenthood, and see if I can get their stories so we can make an informed decision about choosing not to purchase their products, etc. That has already been fruitful, and I’ve received several responses.

I’m not exactly sure how dirt cheap doing all this is. But I guess that’s the point of the sacrifice. I find it pretty much time consuming. Which takes me back to my idea of lentamente. And I’m wondering if I’m doing exactly what I didn’t want to do, and shooting myself in the foot.

The good part is, I do offer the darn tedious tasks and stuff-bagging as prayers. When I question what I’m doing, my heart does go back to Christ. In a round about way. But it makes it to him. I know I’m making my family’s life a little better, more peaceful, less cluttered,  and since my family is actually a product of my love for my spouse and our commitment to one another — through the sacrament of marriage — bound by God’s saving presence … I remember why I’m even tackling the task to begin with: it’s because I’m insane. And I know that even in my insanity, Jesus still loves me … see what I mean?

Yes I can!

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FaithButton

Here’s my first small success. I finally figured out how to get that button to appear on my blog!

Second, I convinced Lillian to wear socks, without counting, demanding, bribing, or threatening.

We started this day as planned with our Lenten morning offering, all together. Amen.

Just a closer walk with thee

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We sat down yesterday with the kids to discuss our plans for lent. Each of theirs individually, and ours as a family.

We talked about our family’s theme (which is actually my theme, but I’m the mom … so … what I say …). We discussed the prayer about Christ having no body but ours. Henry quickly reminded me of the song we know with those words. (Which we used as homeschooling  anthem a few years ago).

We talked about how each of us needs to think of Jesus before we speak to one another in an unkind tone. How we could all use this season to remember all the things we appreciate about each other — we are all God’s children, and brothers and sisters in Christ. If we think of him in all we do, our relationship with Him will change and with each other, too. And wouldn’t that be nice? And — after all — look at what our brother did for us.

“What?” Lillian questioned.

“He died on the cross.”

“But I don’t want Jesus to die. ‘Cause he’s walking around in my heart.”

Which is good. I’m glad she gets that part (sort 0f) and can only pray it sees her through.

Because after 7 a.m. mass and receiving ashes, she announced she needed to wash her face right away. I explained she could tell her friends at school that Ash Wednesday marks the day that Jesus went off to pray in the desert. And she quickly said, “Why would I want to tell anyone THAT?” Then marched in the bathroom.

Then in the mid-afternoon she melted in a puddle on the floor crying that she was exhausted from coloring her Lenten calendar and couldn’t do it anymore. Not quite how I was hoping this long season would start.

Wait, what’s my theme? Lentamente or insanity. Oh yeah, that was it.

Lentamente

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It’s almost here.

Lent.

The season of prayer, fasting and almsgiving. As we trace the steps of Christ. Not only to the cross, but as we retrace our steps, according to the Holy Father, toward Christian Initiation, “for catechumens, in preparation for receiving the Sacrament of rebirth; for the baptized, in light of the new and decisive steps to be taken in the sequela Christi and a fuller giving of oneself to him.”

I’ll be stepping slowly.

In music (and Italian) lentamente means slow. Which, as I’ve grown in wisdom, is the way I choose to approach Lent. As I’ve matured (notice how I side-step the words “gotten older”), I’ve recognized the importance of taking it slowly. Making it methodical. I don’t have a schedule that supports sporadic — if I plan to accomplish anything. If I’m not metered during Lent, I might as well just hang it up right now. Two days before I bear ashes.

So, my theme is going to be that prayer about Christ having no body now, but ours. And then I’ll make some promises that center around breaking habits that draw me from, rather to, our Lord, and trying to replace them with something more meaningful: Prayer time.  Mass time. Patience. Compassion. Forgiveness. Sacrifice.

I will make an effort to fill what I’m trying to remove with the love that is and can only be Christ. And I will try to do this, remain sane, not get crabby and help my children grow in their Lenten journeys as well. So it’s lentamente or insanity. (Maybe that should be my Lenten theme instead?)

Although I’m sure it’ll start off slowly, soon enough I hope to look forward to the promise of Spring and the promise of new life, of course knowing that it has already been fulfilled in Him that first Easter. A fact that I think is truly the beauty of the season. Our willingness as Catholic Christians to sacrifice and do more to become closer to Christ, recognizing that He’s already conquered death. We already know that He’s already offered everything for us. So, the least we can do is (keep trying to) do our best to offer our paltry sacrifices for Him and remember His sacrifice for us that, you know, redeemed the world.

Christ has no body now on earth but yours
no hands but yours
no feet but yours
yours are the eyes through which Christ’s compassion
is to look out to the earth
yours are the feet by which He is to go about doing good
and yours are the hands by which He is to bless us now.

Throw in the towel

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That was going to be my post last weekend. You know … when the going gets tough, wash a load of towels and you’ll feel like you’ve accomplished something big. A whole basket full of laundry, folded in 2 minutes. Ahh. That was my simple post.

But then life happens. I spend days posting what a nincompoop I am, all while people I know and love are suffering through some really hard times. It doesn’t make me any less of a nincompoop, but the fact of the matter is … nincompoopness doesn’t matter. Being able to relate to and loving each other does.

Before I could click that publish button for my mundane little towel post, my dear friend’s spouse has decided to do exactly that — throw in the towel on their 17-year marriage. Without warning. Without chances for making amends. It’s done. I’m not going to tell you their story or allude to anything to be read between the lines. That part is not my story to tell in this setting.

My part of the story is in my own disbelief. It’s all just too much to handle.

There are so many beautiful, happy lives just turned topsy turvy. The mere fact that my friend is hurting and her children are suffering is beyond heart-wrenching. This is not what we teach. This is not what we live. Nor is this what my dear friend and her spouse have taught or lived. She, specifically, has always been one of the best examples of a person committed to her spouse and to her friendships than anyone I’ve ever met. I find myself talking to myself (more than usual … I should add) trying to understand the why and navigate through my own emotions while offering as much support and love that I can. My husband put it best, he said thinking about their situation has become like breathing. Just something we do.

It weighs so heavily on our hearts and minds.

Here’s the deal. People are imperfect. I know. I get it. I guess episodes like this  are wake-up reminders our imperfect nature as human beings.  I really want to embrace this as part of God’s perfect plan. And I do actually. Because I trust in him. I just wish I knew what is supposed to be revealed through this pain to us mere mortals. Is this her part in sharing in the suffering of Christ? I’m pretty sure she’s shared quite a bit already. And I think whether my dearest girl knows this or not, this must be part of the emptying of herself only to fill herself even more with the love of Christ. I don’t know. Who knows, but God?

I do know, I am pretty sure she’s running on empty. And she’s been working so hard in her growth in her relationship with Christ through the church. I’m taking deep breaths and trusting. And praying for that same trust for her. Whenever she gets there.

For another dose of irony by association, when this was all happening last week–when my dear girl was first learning what was in store for her– Richard and I were at an event that celebrates the sacrament of marriage. It’s an event put on every year, hosted by the local Worldwide Marriage Encounter folks. It was nice. But felt somewhat surreal after the fact.

So, please, pray for my friend. Pray for her children. Pray for her spouse. Pray they recognize and are drawn to the healing power of our Lord and can trust in him.

Verbose

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I know I’ve posted about how Cliff doesn’t talk. There is some hope on that front. He does say more words. In Mandarin. We think. But he says some in English, too.

Unlike my Mynah bird children of yesteryear, I cannot take him around the house and point to any old object for him to repeat. Oh no. There’s none of that let’s-develop-a-vocabulary uselessness. He’s not interested in any old thing. He’s all about doing.

Busy boy

Clifford speaks in verbs. Almost exclusively. His favorite one-word commands are: EAT. NEED. DOWN. UP. NO (actually an adverb). GO. HAVE. The others are less intelligible to the untrained ear and usually involve him pointing, tugging at pant legs, shoving me into the next room, trying to force the TV remote control into my hand and the like.

Okay, he appeases us with the occasional Mommy and Daddy. And he yells Henry. He knows we’re the suckers who fulfill his commands. And he knows Henry is his ally in testosterone and things that bounce and shoot, if nothing else.

Oh wait. He does very sweetly say Jesus.

Maybe because Cliff knows Jesus is his ally in all else.  (Or at least that he’s mine.)

12 Revelations of Christmas

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We lived through Christmas. Actually, it was rather joyous. And hectic. And that’s with the plan of it not being hectic. So, it balanced somewhere at moderately hectic. Hence the declaration of joyousness (versus a blog about a breakdown or something).

And what do you know? I actually learned a thing or two or twelve.

  1. Planning ahead and shopping ahead does not eliminate the anxious breakdown that seems to creep up about three days ahead of Christmas. My plan of being well-planned, didn’t make me feel any better prepared. Actually, I kept second-guessing myself and my careful lists. But with the help of my trusty spouse, everything was just fine.
  2. No matter what, I will have a complete allergy breakdown the day after Christmas. Artificial tree or not. It must just be the lack of sleep with worries of children’s choir mass and midnight mass, and pie baking and presents, and food for Christmas day. I would, however, like to thank my nose for waiting until the 26th. So, thank you nose.
  3. Regardless of how much stuff I envision we will do together as a family over break, time just flies. I can’t believe it’s over.
  4. Santa’s idea of putting Christmas presents NEXT to the tree is not the same as him leaving them UNDER the tree. Ask Amelia Bedelia (aka Lillian). That was a 48-hour debate. I’m not 100% sure she’s convinced.
  5. Skyping with my parents in Florida is an absolute hoot. Our post-Christmas family gift was an HD web cam.  My dad is hilarious. He keeps making decorative wooden birds peck at my mom’s hair while she’s talking to the kids. She has no idea, and the kids are in stitches. (As am I.)

    Playin with the webcam

  6. If I don’t keep up with every tradition we’ve done in years past, I will be turned in and declared an Advent failure in front of our pastor. It’s true: we didn’t break out the Jesse tree. We read a bunch of the readings throughout the season, but I couldn’t commit to having sparsely decorated, semi-empty branches of that tree, with the dish of un-read reading ornaments mocking me. And I couldn’t deal with that same whistle-blowing child nagging me to do the readings every night. (I know, that sounds a rather un-holy combination of words–nagging and The Word of God. But keep in mind it isn’t the Word that was nagging.) These aren’t excuses … but … I did organize and put on a musical advent/nativity program for our parish. And I put on my first of a six-session seminar for moms. No to mention, I live with a 20-month old havoc-wreaker who calls me Mama. I still had to function. We prayed together. We did. We reflected on the O Antiphons. We read a bunch of the Jesse tree readings, we just didn’t do ALL of the readings (some are quite long). So, put me in the Advent-failure Chokey.
  7. Home-from-college daughter has mistaken her bedroom for a hotel room. And me as housekeeper and concierge. She miraculously forgot where everything in the house goes and apparently has lost her mastery of the alarm clock. Or any clock, for that matter. Sadly, just the same, she goes back to school very early on Monday.
  8. If you shake our Christmas tree, balls tumble out from the branches to the ground. (Not bulbs. Actual balls.)
  9. Toys with wooden balls and mallets are not really a good choice for Cliffy. (Duck).
  10. I am grateful our children really want for very little. Their desires for all-thing-material are oddly modest. That makes the season that much more joyous.
  11. I spend so much time in the preparing and waiting for Christmas that once it actually gets here, it goes by too fast. I think I’d like to get a little sick of it before it’s over. I’m just ready to celebrate, and everyone is already packing up their stuff and taking down their trees.
  12. I love how the Advent and all-too-quick Christmas seasons bring my focus back to the babyhood of  Jesus. I love the idea of the tiny baby hands of the sweet infant Jesus. The same hands that created the universe, helplessly clutching the waiting fingers of the Blessed Mother and St. Joseph. I imagine them wrapping him up like a peanut, and holding him close to their hearts, keeping him warm.

Merry Christmas. Happy New Year. God bless us everyone.

A wing and a prayer

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As I’ve been preparing the children’s choir for our special nativity program, (which is tonight!) it has been my greatest prayer and hope that they will always remember this experience–that they will take some bit of their joy, their reverence, the details of the story, the words of the songs with them–as they grow in their faith.

After our practice yesterday, the mom of one of the angels questioned if her daughter’s costume was too fancy, because it is trimmed in gold and the others are simple white. I assured her it wasn’t because her daughter was Gabriel.

That mother put her hand to her heart and said, “I was Gabriel when I was a girl at school here.”

She remembered, and now she is passing her faith to her daughter. Glory to God in the Highest!

The angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for behold, I proclaim to you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For today in the city of David a savior has been born for you who is Messiah and Lord .And this will be a sign for you: you will find an infant wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.”

Every now and then

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… it hits me that people are a little bit crazy.

Today, when pulling into the drive-thru at a fast food joint, someone blindly backing out of a parking spot, stopped abruptly. Turned to me, and waved me on while mouthing the word a**hole.

I was entirely perplexed. I wasn’t speeding, driving erratically, or anything worthy of a comment, let alone an expletive. I stopped. Cocked my head and stared at the driver for just a few seconds before proceeding. She was just a young woman.

I think she must have realized I was baffled by her inaudible outburst. My windows were closed, as were hers. She just sat there looking back. Her own voice ringing in her ears. I saw her face wash with embarrassment. Which it should have.  Then she quickly put her car in gear and zoomed out of the lot.

Not to be old-fashioned … but where has courteousness gone? Is it that parents don’t teach their children? Are we in such a hurry to get to the next place that we’re willing to speed passed anyone who slows down, even for a second. Or shout profanities at those who can’t read our minds?

Last week I watched a teenager picking up her brother at Henry’s school completely disregard the rules of pick up. Back up, take cuts in the line up, and zoom around other cars to get out while completely ignoring the halting hands of staff trying to direct the flow for the safety of the children. My kids gasped in horror. Who would do that? They wondered aloud. What’s wrong with her?

Okay, so my kids get it. They get the rules. They know about courteousness, traffic flow and societal order so that there can be freedom within that order (how Montessori-ish). But what will they do when they encounter the overwhelming flagrant disregard for the same rules by which they abide?

I don’t have anything clever to say on this one. I can’t really discount it, because I see it everywhere. I guess, I’ll keep doing my part and hope that enough parents are doing theirs. I’ll also continue to have faith that this is all part of God’s great plan.

Oh. And I’ll pray.