Genesis 6:5-8, 13-22; 7:17, 23-24; 8:1, 6-22
My thoughts can sure run wild this time of year trying to recreate the picture perfect scenes that fill my Pinterest boards, um…head. I want the outside of my home to look all dreamy Christmasy and the inside to smell all Christmasy and then I will find favor as having a lovely Christmas home.
Noah was a righteous, blameless man who walked with God and he found favor in the eyes of the Lord. (Genesis 6:9)
Noah did all God commanded him. He based his life on the commands of God. Noah did not base his life on the Norman Rockwell ideal of the perfect Christmas. He did not base his life on recreating the Christmas scene Mrs. Noah had recently Pinned. He did not base his life on how many kilowatts of electricity his Christmas lawn display could pull. And he certainly did not base his life on sleeping in a tent outside a store to get the ‘best deal’ of the season.
Noah lived in a wooden boat he built in his 500′s; not a ‘Winter Wonderland’. He lived with his wife, three sons and their wives, and a bunch of animals paired by twos, and I’m pretty sure he was up to his eyeballs in something other than potpourri and glitter. And the Scriptures tell us his little home on earth, “…rose higher above the earth.”
I do not know about you, but I would love to feel like I was rising higher and not carrying around this sinking feeling. How many times can the hustle and bustle make us feel like we are drowning?
There are many things that can make us feel like we are drowning: debt, comparison, stress, fatigue. Not only do we live over our head, we may feel like we are running around like a chicken with its head cut off.
Let’s keep ourselves above all that this year, shall we. Let’s wait for the Lord like Noah. Noah waited until he had a clear sign from God that it was time. Maybe our sign comes from our husband telling us the checkbook can’t stretch any farther. Maybe our sign comes from the cranky toddler begging us to sit down and read a story. Maybe our sign comes from the pounding headache and clenched heart; physical signs telling us to sloooowwww dooowwwnnnnn.
And did you catch mention of the first thing Noah did after the rain passed and the waters receded? He built an altar to God and offered a sacrifice that the Lord found as a “pleasing aroma.” I want to be a pleasing aroma, how about you?
First things first my sisters…First things first.
As we begin to practice the state of ‘being’, think of this—we are…because He breathed life into us. Our very existence depended on His creative breath. And then, He put us where He wants us:
house full of noisy kids–right where He wants you
quiet apartment for one—right where He wants you
stay at home mom with endless laundry, stacks of dishes and a clogged toilet—right where He wants you
9 to 5 Monday through Friday in a small cubicle or behind a cash register—right where He wants you
married to an imperfect man who will not pick up his socks—right where He wants you
still waiting for Mr. Right—right where He wants you
Adam and Eve were right where God wanted them, but they started thinking the grass may be greener on the other side of the fence, huh?
When a mom starts pining for life in the cloister, she’s looking over the fence.
When a wife starts admiring and placing another man’s virtues above her own husband’s, she’s looking over the fence.
When we start obsessively wishing for what we do not have, we are looking over the fence.
There is nothing wrong with wanting more, as long as it will bring you in closer friendship with God, not closer friendship with life here and now—that’s too easy. And we know better. Eve knew better. «Click Here to Tweet This»
Do you know, Eve had infused knowledge. She knew a snake should not be talking to her and what did she do…she listened. We know when the little voice in our head has crossed the line, and what do we do…we listen.
If we get a little gut check, a little nudge in our soul that something is too much this Advent—too much money, too much time away, too much distraction, too much food…it probably is…listen to that little nudge instead of the other one. We know: snakes don’t talk, some deals are too good to be true and come January, there will be a reckoning of some sort based on how we lived December.
Choose paradise, even if it looks like a common manger in the middle of the night.
They’re Leaving Home…Will They Leave the Faith? | Leanne Rose
Recently I ran across this profound bit of wisdom from Pope Francis in which he uses kite flying to teach about letting our children go. He cautions:
“There’d come the moment when the kite would begin making a ‘figure 8′ and begin falling. In order to keep that from happening, you mustn’t pull the string. The kids who knew more than us would scream, ‘Give it some slack, it’s wobbling!’ … Flying a kite resembles the approach you need to take regarding a person’s growth: sometimes you need to give them some slack because they are ‘wavering.’ In other words, it is necessary to give them time. We have to be able to set limits at the right moment, but other times we need to know how to look the other way and be like the father of the parable (the Prodigal Son) who lets his son move out and squander his fortune so that he learns from experience.”
Letting go … and wondering if your children will squander their fortune and leave the Faith … is quite possibly the hardest thing a parent will ever do. And that is because – they just might.
The Season of Letting Go
As I reluctantly watch my own grown sons ‘wavering’, every maternal instinct I own screams, “Hold tight! Pull them back! Coerce! Preach! Beg!”. But now is the season in my family to give them slack, give them time, and let them learn from experience. Is it agonizing? Certainly. Is it frightening? Undoubtedly. Is it hopeless? Never! Because while I’m letting my children go (and grow) I’m learning to have a deeper faith and trust while I keep the salvation of their souls constantly in prayer.
I have to trust that I’ve done my best to ‘set limits at the right moment’ and raise them in the Faith, and I also must strive to always live that faith fully myself (for after all it is truly more by our example than our words that their hearts are formed). I am slowly learning to let them learn from experience, even when that brings me to my knees weeping.
St. Monica’s Prayers
I’ve found a trusted friend and advocate in every mother’s patron saint, Monica. Her son, Saint Augustine, completely rejected his faith as a young man and was spiraling downward in immoral living. Monica was ready to disown him but a dream revealed to her that he would return to the faith. So what did she do? Prayed and fasted for him for seventeen long years. She never gave up on him and shortly before her death, Augustine returned, with vigor, to the practice of his faith — and the rest is remarkable history.
The Prodigal Son
In a recent homily about the parable of the Prodigal Son, our Pastor lovingly expressed the thought that this anecdote would more aptly be named, “The Parable of the Good Father”. This was an astounding new twist on this ancient tale and is beautifully reinforced by Pope Francis’ kite story. What does the Good Father (or mother) do? Lets go. Our pastor also gave a homily recently about fear – and how fear is the opposite of faith. So when I find myself desperately afraid for my prodigal children and their souls, I try to remember this lesson and have a stronger faith in God’s timing and in the arsenal of treasures he has provided in our Holy Catholic Church.
Praying … always…
Praying for my children is nothing new. It’s the urgency that’s changed. My daily prayers now always include very specific prayers to each of my children’s Guardian Angels, Saint Michael and the Patron Saint each of them chose at Confirmation. My daily rosary intention always includes the salvation of their souls. I offer every single ache and pain for them and also every single communion and Holy Hour. Years ago I learned a prayer to offer for the souls of my children at every elevation of the Holy Eucharist. This extraordinary moment to entrust them to the Author of Life himself has become more critical as they have grown and strayed.
I have begun the beautiful Twelve Year Prayer to St. Bridget. I figure that if Monica persevered in praying for Augustine for seventeen long years, I can certainly manage twelve. Hope for the salvation of the souls of our children is attached to faithfully praying this meditation on the seven wounds of Jesus.
We have such powerful friends and allies in the Saints and especially in our Blessed Mother, Mary. I don’t know how many times when a crisis has descended on one of my children that the only prayer I can utter over and over is “Mother Mary wrap your arms around him and carry him through this …”. She had to let go of her own grown son even though she saw all the danger he was facing – and a sword of sorrow pierced her own heart (Luke 2:35). She will intercede for you.
My friends on earth are also my prayer companions. Of my four dearest Catholic mom friends, all of us have at least one of our grown children that we worry and pray about. I pray for their children and I ask them to pray for mine…always.
Like Monica, never give up on these prodigal children. When they come to you for advice or comfort – and they will – always be ready to “give them a reason for the hope that is in you” (1 Peter 3:15). Use the moments you are given wisely. I’m learning the hard way to be gentle rather than condemning, joyful rather than forceful, and loving rather than judgmental… hoping with Saint Monica that, as her spiritual director Saint Ambrose promised her, “Surely the son of so many tears will not perish”. And praying that someday the agony of letting the slack out so my wavering child can grow will end in rejoicing with the ‘Good Father’ whose prodigal son returned.
Emily | A Year of Living Adventurously
I believe it was Venerable Fulton Sheen who said, “saints are not sad.” His assertion is borne out by other saints, namely Saint Padre Pio, who said, “Pray, hope, and don’t worry.”
‘Tis the season to be thankful. But I’ve noticed a lot of grumpy Catholics lately. Or, more accurately, doomsday Catholics, who feel that we’re all going to perish anon if we don’t give up all pleasures and move to a monastery to weep for our sins.
Now, I’m not going to say we shouldn’t be sorry for our sins. We should be, and we should go to confession frequently. And as great as vacations are, our sole purpose in life can’t be to work to make more money so we can take our kids to Disney World every six months, or to give them every gadget under the sun for Christmas.
However, there’s a big, huge chasm between enjoying our lives, but remembering we are strangers in a strange land, and making this existence this only thing worth having (which I talked about in my last column).
Are times hard for Catholics? Well, yes. Sort of. Being a faithful Catholic is a hard thing nowadays, with our sound bite culture and people who have a knowledge base an inch deep and a mile wide, who think Catholic=Inquisition=female oppressors=…well, you know.
So, yes, it can be hard to be Catholic. But is it any harder than it has been in the past 2,000 years? I’d say probably not. At least, not yet.
I see so many Catholics who act like the world is ending because people are taking vacations, letting their children play sports, and are generally doing things they enjoy, as opposed to wearing sackcloth and ashes. This makes me pause.
We’re heading into the season of Advent, which is a season of joyful anticipation. We know that the crib leads to the cross, but Advent and Christmas are about the joy of our redemption, of angels singing on high and shepherds gazing in wonder at God made man in a tiny stable. We should always have joy, as St. Paul will remind us on Gaudete Sunday: “Rejoice in the Lord, always. I say it again: rejoice!”
Why is there so little rejoicing happening lately?
I don’t know why. I know that I am as susceptible to grumpy days as anyone else. But my general disposition is one of optimism, a la Nellie Forbush in South Pacific. I believe that God created a good world, a world full of wonders for us to enjoy. Saints, again, back me up. Pope John Paul II was an avid outdoorsman; St. Gianna Molla was a skiier; Blessed Pier Giorgio Frassati loved outdoor pursuits like hiking. Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI loves to play piano, and Pope Francis likes listening to opera. Being Catholic doesn’t mean constant penance and weeping (although if we forget that we’re imperfect, sinful folk, we’re in trouble).
We cannot lose our joy, and our joy in the things that God has created for us. That includes the whoosh of sleds down a snowy hill, collecting shells at the seashore, knitting by the fire, a good cup of coffee, and spending time with our friends.
There is a time and a place for penance. We can’t get so wrapped up in pleasures that we forget God and His commandments. Hockey is great, but maybe not on Sunday at the expense of attending Mass. Chocolate is fantastic, but I can’t eat as much of it as I want whenever I want it. Balance is key. When we forget God and indulge too much, the balance is tipped and must be corrected.
Don’t let the world steal your joy, especially as we head into a season which anticipates the greatest joy–our salvation made man. Don’t let the grumpy days overshadow God’s tremendous love for you.
**I tried my hand at making a free desktop wallpaper for you. Pray, Hope, Don’t Worry Desktop Wallpaper. Let me know if it works for you. It worked on my end.
1. Click the link.
2. Right click “Save image as”
3. Find where you saved it on your computer, open it and right click.
4. Choose “Set as desktop background.
We’re sitting there, both of us with wiggly babies under warm blankets nursing the night away and I begin to realize I’m no longer the young mom. Really, this is not the first time I’ve had this graceful insight. This is not the first time I’ve realized time marches on. It happens here and there and each time I pause and thank God for His amazing grace to have brought me to this place. This place where I am older and hopefully a little bit wiser–to myself mind you, not others. I praise God that He sees fit to ask me to share Him and His divine plan for marriage and motherhood, for friendship, and quiet rest with Him.
I’m totally ok with this new lot in life opening up to me. I’m forty-one nursing my seventh baby and my friend, she’s in her 20′s nursing her second. And as we talk, laugh and share baby stories, I feel God the Father water the seedlings of these verses He has planted in my heart;
Likewise, tell the older women to be reverent in behavior, not to be slanderers or slaves to drink; they are to teach what is good,
so that they may encourage the young women to love their husbands, to love their children,
to be self-controlled, chaste, good managers of the household, kind, being submissive to their husbands, so that the word of God may not be discredited.
†Titus 2:3-5 Revised Standard Version
In the same way, teach the older women to lead a holy life. They must not tell lies about others. They must not let wine control them. Instead, they must teach what is good.
Then they can train the younger women to love their husbands and children.
The younger women must control themselves. They must be pure. They must take good care of their homes. They must be kind. They must follow the lead of their husbands. Then no one will be able to speak evil things against God’s word.
†Titus 2:3-5 New International Readers Version
I don’t have to be old and gray, or a grandma to live the Titus life; there will always be someone younger than me to encourage and instruct. And in turn, thanks be to God, there will always be someone older than me to encourage and instruct me.
Here are 4 things I have learned–am still learning–as time marches on and I go through my daily life, loving my husband and children, caring for my home and living the life God has blessed me with.
Shouldn’t every list about anything begin with “Pray”–Yes, I think so too. Pray and then pray some more and then pray differently but always pray. Pray with your husband and children before bed, pray with your sleep deprived head on your pillow one long restless night, pray when the baby gets you up in the middles of the night, pray when the baby let’s you sleep, pray when the toddler wants cereal and milk at the crack of dawn and when the teen wants it at the stroke of midnight. Pray when your husband is so stressed with the world he barely notices you and pray when he can’t keep his hands off you. Pray when your friends hurt your feelings and pray when you hurt theirs. Pray when you feel all alone and pray when you wish you were. Pray on your knees, in the shower, on your face, in the car, getting dressed, cleaning a mess, making dinner, sitting down, lying down, standing up, up all night, when it’s loud and when it’s too quiet and you’re not sure where the toddler is.
The only way, my sisters, to make it through each and every day, is with prayer. Some days that prayer may seem long, dry and formal and others–sweet, short and to the point. Maybe now would be a good time to quickly define prayer just in case you don’t think you can or have the time to. St Teresa of Avila said, “For prayer is nothing else than being on terms of friendship with God.” That leaves a lot of room for interpretation ladies. Some days I may have time for a long conversation with my girlfriend. And other times, a quick “Hi” is all that’s needed. Same with God.
Do not bog yourself down in what your prayer should be or could be. Pray and let it be what it is.
2. Set Your Own Beat
I cannot make it to daily mass like an older woman at my church. I cannot make it to daily mass like a younger woman at my church. I cannot…I cannot and I cannot…There are many things it seems like I cannot do right now in this stage of my life. So not only do I not do them, I don’t even try right now. Trying and failing to do something I just cannot do, is self defeating. I go to bed feeling lousy and usually so do my children. So I focus on what I can do and do it well–or at least sort of good.
I cannot make it to daily mass, but I can pray family rosary at night with my husband and children. I cannot drag my children to art classes, but I can discuss beautiful art with them at “Family School” everyday at the table and attempt to draw with them once a week.
I’m not silly or hyper but I can smile at them when they walk into a room. I’m not chic or trendy but I can look nice for them during the day.
Discouragement is straight from hell my sisters. And if the enemy can lead me down that path, guess who follows or who I drag along—yep, my kids. Keep yourself from discouragement at all costs. If you get off Facebook feeling fat or frumpy–delete your account. If you shut off the television feeling discontent with your track house, builder grade cabinets and cheap carpet–do not watch television. If you leave the soccer field feeling like a bad momma because you don’t wear a blinged out “Soccer Mom” tee shirt, sit somewhere else. The point here ladies, do not compare yourself to others. You are you–work on being the best you you can be, not the second best someone else.
3. Read Things that Encourage You
If you are not taking in good words, I can assure you, you are not producing good words. The first place to start reading–The Bible. Read one Psalm a day or read one chapter of Proverbs a day. The Word of God is living and active–it will make you the same.
You know the saying, “There’s an app for that.” Well, “There’s a saint for that.” Read about the saints. Even if all you can manage each day is a brief biography, it will draw your heart and mind to people and ideas that are righteous and noble. It will show you people who were once great sinners but fell in love with and were redeemed by an even greater God. Did you know St Augustine once said, “Grant me chastity and continence, but not yet.” Doesn’t that give you hope? To know that an immoral man uttered those words and then by God’s glorious grace went on to become a great saint gives me tremendous hope!
Encourage yourself because the world will try its hardest to discourage you.
I mean it, literally rest. Take a nap, go to bed early, lay on a blanket, relax in a hammock, snuggle up to a sleeping baby, say “No” to Sunday activities, say “No” to Tuesday activities…say “No” to any activity for a season if that’s what you need. Burn out is real and really bad for you and those you love.
Eat off paper plates for a week, stay in your pajammies one day a week. When the toddler wakes you up early, make yourself a pallet on the living room floor to doze off and on while watching cartoons. Buy a roll of cookie dough instead of mixing it up homemade, a loaf of store bought bread instead of grinding and soaking and kneading and baking your own. This is not a forever, this is an “until.” Buy frozen pizza, a frozen dinner, shoot, buy a frozen margarita if you need it. Take some of the pressure off yourself and just rest. Rest and catch your breath and then tackle the world one homemade loaf of bread at a time.
*Vintage paper from Coffeeshop blog.
Kellie | Faith, Family & Friends
Oh my God, in union with the Immaculate Heart of Mary, I offer Thee the most precious Blood of Jesus, from all the altars throughout the world, joining with It my every thought, word and action of this day……
This is the beginning part of a morning offering I learned many years ago when I was first enrolled in the Brown Scapular. And while I attempt to make it the first thing I say every morning, I have to admit sometimes it’s later in the morning……sometimes in the car even. This first part makes you step back and think, if just for a moment about what it is exactly you’re saying.
1] Precisely to Whom am I speaking? ‘Oh my God’. I am speaking directly to God the Father…..going directly to God. There’s no middle man here. It’s just Him and me.
2] Am I offering this by myself? ‘In union with the Immaculate Heart of Mary’. I am asking that my prayer be united to hers, the Mother of God. Do you ever ask someone to do a favor for you? Ask someone to speak on your behalf to someone that the other person maybe has more influence? It’s the same thing. God loves His Mother so much that He crowned her Queen of Heaven and Earth! He honors her requests!
3] What am I offering? ‘I offer Thee (God the Father) the most Precious Blood of Jesus, from all the altars throughout the world’. One miniscule drop of the Blood of Jesus would have sufficed to appease God. But He gave not one drop, but all His Blood. He poured out upon the world an ocean of His Divine Mercy, that we may be immersed in His Love. At the consecration of the chalice at Mass, I have a favorite prayer I say. “O Blood of my Saviour, bathe me in the Sweet Liquid of my redemption. Moreover, Lord, drown me in It, that I may live in Thee, with Thee, For Thee and only Thee, for all eternity.”
4] Am I offering anything additional? ‘Joining with It (the Blood of my Saviour), my every thought, word and action of this day’. In other words, I’m offering myself. All that I am and all that I hope to be. This is where it can get interesting. This means that every one of my thoughts, words and actions are being offered to God. Sometimes my thoughts are not very kind. My words harsh. My actions hap-hazardly done. And what’s worse is while others can witness my words and actions, God alone knows my every thought…..even the ugly ones.
But I offer Him this prayer and try to make those gifts worthy of Him. That is what one is called to do. Will I ever wake up and there be no struggles or strife? No. Every day one must make the resolve to do better than the day before. This is the thing we call living. This is the thing we call trying to live in grace. It is only through prayer that one can ever expect to do this.
The rest of the Morning Offering:
O my Jesus, I desire today to gain every indulgence and merit I can and I offer them, together with myself, to Mary Immaculate that she may best apply them to the interests of Thy Most Sacred Heart! Most Precious Blood of Jesus, save us! Immaculate Heart of Mary, pray for us! Most Sacred Heart of Jesus, have mercy on us!
Jesus, meek and humble of Heart, make my heart like unto Thine!
A grateful heart,
What does your Morning Offering look like?
A repost from our archives.
Don’t Blink is a repost from March 2010.
For the first time in a very long time, I am neither pregnant nor mothering a baby. My “baby” is now two years old. And with a certainty that takes my breath away, I suddenly understand why wise women always told me that the time would go so quickly. To be sure, I’ve had more “baby time” than most women. My first baby will be 16 in a few days. I still think it’s over much too soon.
This column is for mothers of infants and toddlers. I am going to attempt to do something I never thought I’d do: I’m going to empathize while not in your situation. My hope is that it is all so fresh in my memory that I can have both perspective and relevance.
What you are doing, what you are living, is very difficult. It is physically exhausting. It is emotionally and spiritually challenging. An infant is dependent on you for everything. It doesn’t get much more daunting: there is another human being who needs you for his very life. Your life is not your own at all. You must answer the call (the cry) of that baby, regardless of what you have planned. This is dying to self in a very pure sense of the phrase. And you want to be with him. You ache for him. When he is not with you, a certain sense of restlessness edges its way into your consciousness, and you are not at complete peace.
If you are so blessed that you have a toddler at the same time, you wrestle with your emotions. Your former baby seems so big and, as you settle to nurse your baby and enjoy some quiet gazing time, you try desperately to push away the feeling that the great, lumbering toddler barreling her way toward you is an intruder. Your gaze shifts to her eyes, and there you see the baby she was and still is, and you know that you are being stretched in ways you never could have imagined.
This all might be challenge enough if you could just hunker down in your own home and take care of your children for the next three years; but society requires that you go out — at least into the marketplace. So you juggle nap schedules and feeding schedules and snowsuits and carseats. Just an aside about carseats: I have literally had nightmares about installing carseats. These were not dreams that I had done it wrong or that there had been some tragedy. In my dreams I am simply exhausted, struggling with getting the thing latched into the seat of the car and then getting my baby latched into the carseat. I’m fairly certain anyone else who has ever had four of these mechanical challenges lined up in her van has had similar dreams. It’s the details that overwhelm you, drain you, distract you from the nobility of it all. The devil is in the details.
You will survive. And here is the promise: if you pray your way through this time, if you implore the Lord at every turn, if you ask Him to take this day and this time and help you to give Him something beautiful, you will grow in ways unimagined.
And the day will come when no one is under two years old. You will — with no one on your lap — look at your children playing contentedly together without you. And you will sigh. Maybe, like me, you will feel your arms are uncomfortably empty, and you will pray that you can hold a baby just once more. Or maybe, you will sense that you are ready to pass with your children to the next stage.
This is the place where nearly two decades of mothering babies grants me the indulgence of sharing what I would have done differently.
1. I would have had far fewer obligations outside my home. Now, I see that there is plenty of time for those. I wish I’d spent a little more time just sitting with that baby instead of trying to “do it all.”
2. I wish I’d quieted the voices telling me that my house had to look a certain way. I look around now and I recognize that those houses that have “that look” don’t have these children. Rarely are there a perfectly-kept house and a baby and a toddler under one roof. Don’t listen to the voices that tell you that it can be done. It should not be done. I wish I hadn’t spent 16 years apologizing for the mess. Just shoot for “good enough.” Cling to lower standards and higher goals.
3. I wish I’d taken more pictures, shot more video and kept better journals. I console myself with the knowledge that my children have these columns to read. They’ll know at least as much about their childhoods as you do.
4. I wish I could have recognized that I would not be so tired forever, that I would not be standing in the shallow end of the pool every summer for the rest of my life, that I would not always have a baby in my bed (or my bath or my lap). If I could have seen how short this season is (even if mine was relatively long), I would have savored it all the more.
5. And I wish I had thanked Him more. I prayed so hard. I asked for help. But I didn’t thank Him nearly enough. I didn’t thank Him often enough for the sweet smell of a newborn, for the dimples around pudgy elbows and wrists, for the softening of my heart, for the stretching of my patience, for the paradoxical simplicity of it all. A baby is a pure, innocent, beautiful embodiment of love. And his mother has the distinct privilege, the unparalleled joy, of watching love grow.
Don’t blink. You’ll miss it.
A repost from our archives.
On this Feast of Sts Simon & Jude
Thanking God for…
::lovely weather on Sunday for a Eucharistic procession to celebrate the Feast of Christ the King
::Crockpot Chicken Taco Soup…MMMmmmm
::watching Leo chase the chickens
::sunset through the barns
::Bernadette sleeping with Leo and I when Chris is gone
Looking out my window…
I’ve started this on Sunday night and it’s sunset right now. It is absolutely beautiful seeing the light spread out in between fences and barns.
I am praying…
I am praying for a soul very close to our family. There is a big battle going on. I’m praying for God to show me how to do all the things He wants me to do and to show me what’s His and what’s mine.
I am pondering…
I’m pondering what my daily walk looks like…daily. I have this idea sometimes that my life is not “spiritual” enough and when I speak about this with my spiritual father, he assures me I am doing exactly what I am supposed to be doing and if it looked any way else, I would not be doing God’s will. One time I complained to a priest that I got all dressed up every Sunday to go wrestle kids in the vestibule of the church. He assured me God was very pleased with my wrestling skills!
I am reading…
With the kids during family school:
I am creating…
Still slowly working on the Granny Square blanket for Chris. I am also creating a prayer journal following the example of Peggy. You know what? Mine do not look anything like hers. But that does not mean I am not an artist. More on that later.
I am learning we are so much more than we give ourselves credit for.
In the kitchen…
There will be lots of soups and easy crockpot meals this week.
Around the house…
We are taking this week as an official break from school. Hopefully those projects I want to do, I do.
A pair of black yoga pants (is there another name for these?), a turquoise tee shirt and red and white slippers.
Look what I found…
Letter to Wilfred on Prayer
“Prayer is not so much an activity in which you engage as it is a gift that you receive from the Heart of Christ by the operation of the Holy Ghost.”
“First of all, know that if you have the desire to pray, or even the smallest, faintest spark of a desire to pray, you are already praying, and this in spite of all your feelings to the contrary, When you go to prayer, even if you have nothing else to bring to it, bring that tiny spark of desire or, at least, a desire for that tiny spark of desire. The Holy Ghost will work with that.”
I am looking forward to…
I am looking forward to a short break from school. I don’t think I need to say more.
A favorite quote for today…
One of my favorite things…
Chris and I went to Sam’s on our date…I know, we live large! Anyway, I bought this Land O Lakes Classics Premium Hot Cocoa Mix…Oh yum!!
The week ahead…
A break from school, have I already mentioned that? And then the usual, soccer, piano, dental cleanings, chores…