Category Archives: Prayer

Part of your world

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I was picking up toys in Lillian’s room and came across this.

Part of your world.

The Princess and her reptiles.

A princess in an air balloon with a frog and lizard, positioned just so in the midst of her well-appointed menagerie.

Lillian lives in a remarkable place.

Her feet may be on the ground, but her imagination takes her far, far away.

Case in point: A few weeks back, I heard her playing and say she needed to take her princess on her noodlecorn (unicorn) to the woods to escape the Drooling Giant (Baby Clifford). Once she made it to her safe haven, behind the couch I heard her say, “Help me Obi Won Kenobi.”

She loves little toys. The greater choking hazard, apparently the better. I love when I open a lower cabinet and find her Littlest Petshop toys positioned in a private conversational circle. Or balanced just so on the base of a lamp or top of a heat vent.

Those little surprises make me yearn for those moments myself. The freedom to let my mind take me somewhere. Sometimes anywhere but where my feet may actually be. Just to escape. But come back, of course. Moments like that make me grateful for prayer … and the promises of one day living forever in another remarkable place.

Until then, I need to go dress my darling girl in her princess-the-pencil clothes. (Aka Princess Rapunzel).

Keeping watch

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“Could you not keep watch for one hour?”

Spending time at Eucharistic Adoration is a gift. One that I so infrequently receive these days.

Yesterday I was able to sneak away for that precious hour of face time with our Lord, and my multitasking brain was all over the place.

I felt like Peter. Unable to stay awake. Although I wasn’t sleeping, I was distracted and not devoted to our Lord during that one hour as I promised myself I would be.

It’s hard to shut off a mutlitasking brain when it is so busy multitasking to prepare for all the upcoming multitasking.

I spent two days this week preparing more than a dozen meals for my family so I can tackle all the stuff we have on our plates these next two weeks and still eat healthy, home-cooked dinners together.

I cooked and cooked, did laundry, homeschooled, picked up children, dropped off children, nursed a baby, wiped spilled milk, changed diapers, took care of business, ran to the bank, unloaded and reloaded dishwasher, dressed and bathed myself and others and the list goes on, and on and on.

Had I not done all that preparation, I wouldn’t have been able to steal that hour yesterday. So in an attempt to take a  moment of peace and reap the fruits of my labor, I knelt. And although my prayer was earnest, it was scattered, easily distracted and completely unfocused. I had so many people to pray for. So many intentions. My mind just raced hoping I wouldn’t forget this or that, while flashes of “don’t forget to move the laundry to the dryer when you get home” and “maybe I should read some prayers to get focus, but if I read prayers I’ll miss the conversation with God, then I won’t be able to listen” and “I forgot to mute my cell phone. Should I mute it now, which makes noise and could be distracting or take the chance that it won’t ring?” and, unfortunately, that list just went on, too.

I even found myself distracted with the thought of blogging about how distracted I was. Ugh.

But even in the midst of my mental chaos, the Lord, as promised, delivered. I returned home renewed. Happy to be able to easily put a good meal on the table, crawl around with the baby, read with the children and spend quiet time with my spouse. I’m sure even my distracted prayers were heard.

I am so grateful God is merciful and understanding.

I eagerly look forward to the next hour I can find to be with the Blessed Sacrament–however I can offer it. It’s my job to work toward giving God more, and I’ll just keep trying.

And no, I did not remember to move the laundry to the dryer.

Jesse is a friend

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A few years back we made a Jesse Tree to use as part of our advent preparation. I believe I said something like, “So help me, we’re going to have a holy advent if it kills me.” So my dear spouse fashioned the tree. Helen decorated the ornaments, I tied ribbons and hot glued and our tree grew from wooden dowels and discs into a much-treasured family tradition.

Starting on the first day of advent, we read daily scripture that tells of the genealogy of  Jesus. Then we hang a little ornament on the tree. It’s similar to an advent countdown, but with a scriptural focus.

Jesse is a friend.

This is our fourth year, so the readings are familiar to the older children. Henry can’t wait to hear about Abraham’s willingness to sacrifice Isaac and the stories of destruction–especially the serpent in the Garden of Eden and the great flood. Mary Claire takes charge and organizes our nightly gathering and does most of the reading or designates a reader.

I’m especially eager this year for the readings about the birth of Jesus because Lillian is all about the nativity. We’ve been reading books and are frequently talking about the birth of Christ. We make special efforts to stop and admire all the outdoor nativity scenes that adorn the local landscape. (Because if we don’t, I’ll never hear the end of it from my 30-pound back-seat driver.) And every time she sees an angel she folds her hands in prayer and says solemnly, “And the angel of the Lord said, hail Mary, full of grace.” I look forward to her recognizing those same stories as we gather as a family and read from our Bible, counting down another day closer to Christmas.

The best part about the Jesse Tree is that it brings us together nightly. It’s a series of quiet (okay, not always quiet) moments that have turned into memories we will treasure. And those memories are centered where they should be — around Christ.

War of the Rosaries

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We put saying the rosary on our calendar.  That sounds like it takes away some of the romance of our relationship with God. But like any good relationship, there is work involved. You have to make time for each other. The truth is God always makes time for us, we’re the slackers. So that’s why that rosary deserves an entry on our calendar. Actually two.

Sundays and Tuesdays are Rosary days.

Imagine this, I call the children, singing their names: Perpetua, John Paul, Benedict, Agnes, Damien. I’m blinded by the streaking light of their bouncing halos  as they jump to their knees, eyes toward Heaven …

Okay. It’s nothing like that.

The plan is to gather the kids and pray together as a loving family of God. It’s just that sometimes the loving part of the plan is foiled when expectations aren’t met and someone is late, or the little kids are more rambunctious than usual, or a certain teenager who has the ability to stay up until the wee hours starts to fade by the end of the second decade, or a dear little baby complains through the whole thing.

But still, we do our best to follow through. We say intentions for people and causes, we end up laughing at least once or twice (because if we didn’t, we’d go insane). And we get through that Rosary, always grateful that we took the time. By the end I’m often looking forward to our next attempt and wondering if I’ll ever actually know the words to Hail Holy Queen.

A lot of help in her little ways

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Today is the feast day of St. Thérèse of Lisieux. She was the first saint that became real to me. st__therese_of_lisieux

I encountered her in New York City one day when making a regular visit to St. Patrick’s Cathedral. At every chance I could while a student at Hofstra, I would travel from Long Island into the city. Even though I was a heavily loaded full-time college student, I took acting classes at HB Studio in the Village. Depending on how my classes fell during the day, I would try to make a trip up to St. Patrick’s. Sometimes I would hightail it up to the cathedral from Penn Station (about 23 blocks), then take the subway all the way back downtown to the studio. It was always worth the time and worth the trip. A good walk and a great God, what could be better?

For a time during that period, there was a traveling display about St. Thérèse of Lisieux. On one long side of the cathedral were life-sized photographs of this beautiful, sweet young woman. Who, in those photographs, was the same age I was at the time. I could stand there and look right into the eyes of a saint. And although they were inanimate photographs, they beckoned me to learn more. And I did. She’s been my friend ever since. It wasn’t until relatively recently that I learned that as a girl my mom loved the sweet saintly Little Flower as she’s called. If you don’t know about her, I urge you to find out more. There’s a lovely movie about her life that is a family favorite around here. And here’s a nice article at today’s Faith & Family Live site.

St. Thérèse reminds me to find the joy in some of the minutia of the day. To remember that my troubles are small. My favorite quote is from her autobiography, The Story of a Soul.

And so it is in the world of souls, Jesus’ garden. He willed to create great souls comparable to lilies and roses, but he has created smaller ones and these must be content to be daisies or violets destined to give joy to God’s glances when He looks down at His feet. Perfection consists in doing His wil, in being what He wills us to be …

When I’m struggling with something that causes me grief or pain, and I have to fight to temper my own response, when God looks down at His feet, will he see me? Will I be a daisy, a violet? Frankly, sometimes, I’m a weed. Or worse a dandelion: a weed disguised as a flower. But by learning from those who have gone before like St. Thérèse and asking for their intersession, I’ll keep trying to grow and bloom.

Beg, borrow or

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… get a steal and buy at a really good discount. That’s kind of the motto around here for the nonessentials (and the essentials, actually). Richard fortunately still has business in this wacky economy. But the facts are what they are and we—like many in design and construction-related fields—have had to make some major adjustments. And, as much as I dislike it, I’m grateful. I’ve learned a lot.

I’m thankful for how it has grounded us to our home. How we are thriftier with groceries and have controlled impulse buys. I even like the fact that I traded in my leased minivan for a used full-size van. And much to my surprise, I actually find that big thing much more fun to drive.

I like how my son checks the price on everything and says, “That’s not Mom’s kind of price.”

I’ve had to be more creative with our homeschooling curriculum. Instead of spending a lot on books, we bought very inexpensive used laptops on eBay for Henry and MC.  We’ve networked them and are incorporating technology in our daily work and are looking up more facts and educational materials on the internet. Today Mary Claire emailed to me her second draft of her biography of St. Agnes, I made comments in edit mode and sent it back for her revisions and corrections. (I am hoping the novelty of her sending me instant messages from the living room will wear off soon.)

Henry is using his for keeping his schedule and work record, using his online reading program and math drills. He’s also learning how to type. Of course we still had to buy math and science, but we’re visiting the library a lot more frequently, studying Shakespeare, saints of the early church and bible stories. I think it has livened things up a bit. A completely classically focused curriculum was just too much for Henry, and so far Mary Claire is enjoying the change, too. (Even though she has to write a lot.)

With homecoming time for dear Helen, she’s borrowed a dress and got an amazing deal on shoes. (Did you know that if they don’t have your size at Payless they give you an inconvenience coupon for $3 off of the same shoe in your size at another store?) She completely embraced the idea of borrowing and was happy with the shoes (which are really adorable!). A little ribbon and some other accessories and the whole ensemble has become her own. Besides, how many of us women could fill a closet with fancy dresses we’ve worn but once? (I wished I had figured that one out earlier.)

I don’t really know what lies ahead. We’re just plugging away. And if not for faith, I’m not sure how anyone gets through these kinds of times. I count my blessings and am finally remembering to include our own family’s needs in my prayers more often. That may sound odd, but I just didn’t.

I’ve always thanked God for my wonderful spouse and for the glimpse into His amazing miracle of creation by giving us each of these beautiful and remarkable children. I have just always felt others needed our prayer intentions more than we needed our own.I still do, but I know we need them, too. It is through these circumstances we find out who we are and do what we can to pick up that cross and at least get an infinitesimal understanding of what Christ did for all of us … and truly be humbled.