I have a theory and it is probably way wrong, but here it goes:
St. Anthony (the patron of lost things) is just an overgrown 3 year old child. Has anyone ever seen a toddler who likes to play tricks on it's parents? You know, take something, hide it, then when they are asked where it is the child smiles, giggles, then runs away? Then the parent has to go chasing after the kid and coax him/her into telling them where said item is. I think this is what St. Anthony does.
I am FOREVER losing things!! I search for them - no luck. I ask St. Anthony for his help finding said item. It is found in the MOST OBVIOUS location possible. My theory is that this is his way of making sure we still rely on the help of better people than ourselves. So the next time you have lost something, just imagine St. Anthony sitting in heaven looking down at you with the ornery look of a silly 3 year old!
Showing posts with label Faith. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Faith. Show all posts
Monday, May 13, 2013
Saturday, March 2, 2013
Fostering Beauty
My husband and I are told with a certain consistency how cute/adorable/beautiful our daughter is. And we agree with them - but we are horribly bias in the matter. I mean, she is 1/2 our DNA each, so we have a self-interest in the matter. But the thing is, we know that physical beauty fades. We all age. Accidents and scars happen. Being cute/adorable/beautiful isn't what matters.
The beauty that we are attempting to foster - spiritual beauty. We wouldn't care if our kid was the most unfortunate looking individual on the planet as long as she is nice, honest, caring and God-loving. Besides being one of the most trusting and sassy little girls I know, she is very loving. She will give hugs and/or kisses to just about anyone who asks for one - but only if she wants to. She is sassy! High fives are almost a given. Waves, smiles, and giggles flow freely. She is the kind of kid that everyone wants and we are so blessed to call her ours. We started praying with her from the time she was born. At 16 months old she can already make the sign of the cross (well it is more of a face-palm followed by 3 chest pounds, but it is better than many her age can do), she knows when to bow in mass, and she has figured out the rhythm of when to stand and when to kneel during the stations of the cross (although this just seems to be a great excuse to play pew peek-a-boo with whatever unsuspecting individual decides to sit behind us - which is one of her favorite things about mass) Our hope and prayer is that she continues to grow to be such a great little person on the inside - because that beauty can grow and blossom into the type of person that everyone wants to be around. Physical beauty fades - a loving nature is forever.
The beauty that we are attempting to foster - spiritual beauty. We wouldn't care if our kid was the most unfortunate looking individual on the planet as long as she is nice, honest, caring and God-loving. Besides being one of the most trusting and sassy little girls I know, she is very loving. She will give hugs and/or kisses to just about anyone who asks for one - but only if she wants to. She is sassy! High fives are almost a given. Waves, smiles, and giggles flow freely. She is the kind of kid that everyone wants and we are so blessed to call her ours. We started praying with her from the time she was born. At 16 months old she can already make the sign of the cross (well it is more of a face-palm followed by 3 chest pounds, but it is better than many her age can do), she knows when to bow in mass, and she has figured out the rhythm of when to stand and when to kneel during the stations of the cross (although this just seems to be a great excuse to play pew peek-a-boo with whatever unsuspecting individual decides to sit behind us - which is one of her favorite things about mass) Our hope and prayer is that she continues to grow to be such a great little person on the inside - because that beauty can grow and blossom into the type of person that everyone wants to be around. Physical beauty fades - a loving nature is forever.
Monday, January 28, 2013
Open PSA to all regarding the loss of a child and your behavior
I have had the unfortunate misfortune to lose a few babies to miscarriage and stillbirth. It sucks, but it makes me expressly qualified to write this. You see I am not the only one who has suffered this inconceivable loss. It seems like things go in waves, and right now the wave of multiple people I know losing their kid before knowing them seems to be high - a fact that makes my heart ache. My prayer would be that no mom - or dad for that fact - would ever experience the heart wrenching pain that drains the parent of all energy and lead to a crisis of faith. That being said, it is a reality of our broken humanity. My hope is that through this post, I can give some insights on HOW one should behave toward these parents - what is acceptable to do and what is not. I have broken up this post into GREEN light, YELLOW light, and RED light actions. Please consider what I have to say - I speak from experience.
GREEN LIGHT (You can say or do these things without risking offending the grieving parents)
-- GIVE THEM SPACE!!!! This seems counter-intuitive. When an adult dies we rally around the grieving family, hug, and tell stories about the person who has passed. But when a parent loses a child so young there are no stories to be told. This unexpected loss leaves everyone asking "WHY?" "WHAT?" "WHERE?" Why did this happen? What exactly happened? Where do we go from here? All these questions have limited to no answered. The parents need time to process this in their own way. This processing can't be done when everyone is calling, texting, trying to get a hold and by extension smother them. The mom and dad of the lost infant need time to spend with each other and grieve before they can face the world and grieve with extended family members. That is not to say they don't love their extended family, but the moment the vow of two becoming one flesh in marriage, the parents of the these new (grieving) parents and siblings become EXTENDED family, not immediate family. A new family is created in marriage, and while this is generally celebrated, when a child is lost, this is the first thing that is forgotten. Even if you are the mom, sister, grandmother, you are not entitled to the inner circle. Get over yourself - they are in more pain than you are. They will reach out when they are ready. Especially if they request time to process what is going on, GIVE THEM SPACE!
-- LISTEN!!! When the mom or dad does reach out to you don't talk. JUST LISTEN. Let him or her guide the conversation. Don't ask an excessive amount of questions. Scratch that, don't ask any questions. Ok, maybe one or two, but none about what happened - at least not in the first year. The wounds are still very fresh and you can't imagine how much pain it causes. Trust me, he or she will open up when he or she is ready. One day it will be like word vomit. The first time details are told it will be a raw explosion of emotions and tears. If the parent wants to talk about the latest baseball game, let him or her. Be grateful that they are talking to you.
-- BE AVAILABLE! But don't be offended if you are not the one that is "chosen" to be the first, second, or even third confidant. After my husband and I dealt with the unexpected loss of our son the people I reached out to weren't the people you would expect. I reached out to a few members of the clergy (ok, so that one should be expected.) Next I reached out to a friend who was also pregnant at the time and who's baby just happened to be due 1 month before my son was supposed to be. This friend just happened to be a social worker. I just needed some sense of "normalcy" while knowing I wasn't going to be interrogated. I also wanted to know about some counseling resources. After a while I reached out to a friend who just happened to be pregnant also, and who's daughter was supposed to be born within a day of my son (they practically shared the same due date). She was (and still is) a dear friend who was pregnant with her third child, never has/had lost a child, but is one of the best prayer warriors I have ever met. I still required some sense of normalcy and hope that things could be better. If you notice - I reached out to men who have no clue what is like to be a parent, but are good listeners - I reached out to two women who know what is like to be a parent, but no clue what it is like to lose a child, but they are good listeners. It wasn't the overbearing people who kept badgering me who I talked to first. I wasn't ready for all their questions so I kept them at arm's length. It was the gentle ones who listened who helped me through the tough times. I did talk with family members about it, but much later. It wasn't until months later that I reached out to fellow mothers who had lost children. All in due time.
-- "Is there anything I can do for you?" The answer is generally "NO". Their world has been rocked to the core and nothing will change this. Offering to help, even if it is just to cook a meal is about all we really can do. Offer once and let them be. Your offer has been noted and will be taken up on IF the mom or dad needs your assistance.
-- PRAY FOR THEM! They don't have to know you are doing it. Prayers are always welcome and probably do the most help.
YELLOW LIGHT (Depending on who you are and who the parent is and the relationship you have toward each other)
-- Calling the parents. I said earlier that you should leave them be - and you should. But you can call once - not once a day, not once an hour - ONCE. Don't be offended if they don't answer. You can call to tell them you are available to listen or do something for them. Let the ball be in their court. This action should be reserved for people VERY close to the the couple. If you think you MIGHT be in this inner circle then you probably are not. You need to KNOW that they would want to hear from you before they are ready to reach out to you. Writing an email or letter might even be better. That way they can read it when they are ready without feeling flooded and bombarded.
RED LIGHT (These should go without saying, but people are dumb. They should never be done or said. If I find you ever say or do them I WILL hunt you down like a starving lion and verbally rip you limb from limb)
-- "It's ok. You can have another kid." WHAT?!?! This mom or dad has just had a child die. This isn't a puppy or kitten. IT IS A HUMAN. It is genetically HALF of him or her. There were hopes and dreams that were wrapped up in the excitement of a new life - THIS NEW LIFE! Not some future life. THIS LIFE. It took my husband and I awhile to become pregnant and there were so many hopes and dreams wrapped in this little new life. We didn't know if we would ever be able to have another.
-- Asking when the mom or dad might try again for another child. This is similar to the previous one, but slightly different. You are acknowledging the loss and looking towards the future yes. What you are forgetting is that this parent may (and probably still is) grieving the loss of the child. I talked to a mother who has dealt with the loss of her son, but still openly grieves the loss over 20 years later. There really are things you NEVER get over.
-- "You failed at becoming a parent." I can't make this up. Someone actually told me I failed at becoming a mother because I lost my baby. I didn't fail. God placed a baby in my belly. He also called the baby back to Himself before my dear son took a breath. It wasn't my fault. I did nothing to cause it. I am a mother to my son and always will be. I am not a failure and any mom who loses a baby through no fault of her own isn't either. God has a plan for all His children - we just often don't know what it is.
So in conclusion all I am asking is that you:
1. Think before speaking
2. Take your cues from the grieving parents. If they want space, give them space. If they want to talk, talk to them. You never know what will help someone grieve and what helps may change minute to minute.
3. Pray for healing, understanding and comfort.
GREEN LIGHT (You can say or do these things without risking offending the grieving parents)
-- GIVE THEM SPACE!!!! This seems counter-intuitive. When an adult dies we rally around the grieving family, hug, and tell stories about the person who has passed. But when a parent loses a child so young there are no stories to be told. This unexpected loss leaves everyone asking "WHY?" "WHAT?" "WHERE?" Why did this happen? What exactly happened? Where do we go from here? All these questions have limited to no answered. The parents need time to process this in their own way. This processing can't be done when everyone is calling, texting, trying to get a hold and by extension smother them. The mom and dad of the lost infant need time to spend with each other and grieve before they can face the world and grieve with extended family members. That is not to say they don't love their extended family, but the moment the vow of two becoming one flesh in marriage, the parents of the these new (grieving) parents and siblings become EXTENDED family, not immediate family. A new family is created in marriage, and while this is generally celebrated, when a child is lost, this is the first thing that is forgotten. Even if you are the mom, sister, grandmother, you are not entitled to the inner circle. Get over yourself - they are in more pain than you are. They will reach out when they are ready. Especially if they request time to process what is going on, GIVE THEM SPACE!
-- LISTEN!!! When the mom or dad does reach out to you don't talk. JUST LISTEN. Let him or her guide the conversation. Don't ask an excessive amount of questions. Scratch that, don't ask any questions. Ok, maybe one or two, but none about what happened - at least not in the first year. The wounds are still very fresh and you can't imagine how much pain it causes. Trust me, he or she will open up when he or she is ready. One day it will be like word vomit. The first time details are told it will be a raw explosion of emotions and tears. If the parent wants to talk about the latest baseball game, let him or her. Be grateful that they are talking to you.
-- BE AVAILABLE! But don't be offended if you are not the one that is "chosen" to be the first, second, or even third confidant. After my husband and I dealt with the unexpected loss of our son the people I reached out to weren't the people you would expect. I reached out to a few members of the clergy (ok, so that one should be expected.) Next I reached out to a friend who was also pregnant at the time and who's baby just happened to be due 1 month before my son was supposed to be. This friend just happened to be a social worker. I just needed some sense of "normalcy" while knowing I wasn't going to be interrogated. I also wanted to know about some counseling resources. After a while I reached out to a friend who just happened to be pregnant also, and who's daughter was supposed to be born within a day of my son (they practically shared the same due date). She was (and still is) a dear friend who was pregnant with her third child, never has/had lost a child, but is one of the best prayer warriors I have ever met. I still required some sense of normalcy and hope that things could be better. If you notice - I reached out to men who have no clue what is like to be a parent, but are good listeners - I reached out to two women who know what is like to be a parent, but no clue what it is like to lose a child, but they are good listeners. It wasn't the overbearing people who kept badgering me who I talked to first. I wasn't ready for all their questions so I kept them at arm's length. It was the gentle ones who listened who helped me through the tough times. I did talk with family members about it, but much later. It wasn't until months later that I reached out to fellow mothers who had lost children. All in due time.
-- "Is there anything I can do for you?" The answer is generally "NO". Their world has been rocked to the core and nothing will change this. Offering to help, even if it is just to cook a meal is about all we really can do. Offer once and let them be. Your offer has been noted and will be taken up on IF the mom or dad needs your assistance.
-- PRAY FOR THEM! They don't have to know you are doing it. Prayers are always welcome and probably do the most help.
YELLOW LIGHT (Depending on who you are and who the parent is and the relationship you have toward each other)
-- Calling the parents. I said earlier that you should leave them be - and you should. But you can call once - not once a day, not once an hour - ONCE. Don't be offended if they don't answer. You can call to tell them you are available to listen or do something for them. Let the ball be in their court. This action should be reserved for people VERY close to the the couple. If you think you MIGHT be in this inner circle then you probably are not. You need to KNOW that they would want to hear from you before they are ready to reach out to you. Writing an email or letter might even be better. That way they can read it when they are ready without feeling flooded and bombarded.
RED LIGHT (These should go without saying, but people are dumb. They should never be done or said. If I find you ever say or do them I WILL hunt you down like a starving lion and verbally rip you limb from limb)
-- "It's ok. You can have another kid." WHAT?!?! This mom or dad has just had a child die. This isn't a puppy or kitten. IT IS A HUMAN. It is genetically HALF of him or her. There were hopes and dreams that were wrapped up in the excitement of a new life - THIS NEW LIFE! Not some future life. THIS LIFE. It took my husband and I awhile to become pregnant and there were so many hopes and dreams wrapped in this little new life. We didn't know if we would ever be able to have another.
-- Asking when the mom or dad might try again for another child. This is similar to the previous one, but slightly different. You are acknowledging the loss and looking towards the future yes. What you are forgetting is that this parent may (and probably still is) grieving the loss of the child. I talked to a mother who has dealt with the loss of her son, but still openly grieves the loss over 20 years later. There really are things you NEVER get over.
-- "You failed at becoming a parent." I can't make this up. Someone actually told me I failed at becoming a mother because I lost my baby. I didn't fail. God placed a baby in my belly. He also called the baby back to Himself before my dear son took a breath. It wasn't my fault. I did nothing to cause it. I am a mother to my son and always will be. I am not a failure and any mom who loses a baby through no fault of her own isn't either. God has a plan for all His children - we just often don't know what it is.
So in conclusion all I am asking is that you:
1. Think before speaking
2. Take your cues from the grieving parents. If they want space, give them space. If they want to talk, talk to them. You never know what will help someone grieve and what helps may change minute to minute.
3. Pray for healing, understanding and comfort.
Teaching the little lady the essentials!
My daughter is starting to talk - well learn how to. Her latest two words - "attack" and "Jesus." You might be thinking, what in the world are you teaching your kid? Well.... the essentials!
"Attack" - During bath time (her favorite part of any day) I have decided that I can make this amusement time - FOR ME! She has bath squirties! I fill them all up and squirt her in the chest or back, usually while saying "Baby's under attack!" in a fun voice. She giggles because the water tickles. She has learned to turn the tables on me though. Now she hits the top of the water with all her might, splashing me (and everything else in the bathroom) and says "ATTACK!" So now my dear, sweet daughter thinks being splashed with water is what "attack" means! HE HE HE! I am ok with that.
"Jesus" - This one makes my heart smile. Although she learned this from a book that plays an off key version of "Silent Night." It also has LED lights around the baby Jesus that makes Him a techno-colored nightmare. It really is very odd to have a glowing baby Jesus in a book. But she and I have had many conversations about the baby Jesus. I love the fact she is learning her faith, but I need to find other methods than the glowing techno-colored nightmare!
Next words don't need to be such opposites! But they probably will!
"Attack" - During bath time (her favorite part of any day) I have decided that I can make this amusement time - FOR ME! She has bath squirties! I fill them all up and squirt her in the chest or back, usually while saying "Baby's under attack!" in a fun voice. She giggles because the water tickles. She has learned to turn the tables on me though. Now she hits the top of the water with all her might, splashing me (and everything else in the bathroom) and says "ATTACK!" So now my dear, sweet daughter thinks being splashed with water is what "attack" means! HE HE HE! I am ok with that.
"Jesus" - This one makes my heart smile. Although she learned this from a book that plays an off key version of "Silent Night." It also has LED lights around the baby Jesus that makes Him a techno-colored nightmare. It really is very odd to have a glowing baby Jesus in a book. But she and I have had many conversations about the baby Jesus. I love the fact she is learning her faith, but I need to find other methods than the glowing techno-colored nightmare!
Next words don't need to be such opposites! But they probably will!
Saturday, January 26, 2013
It all comes around again...
Today I was watching the March for Life with my daughter and after she went to sleep I was "flipping" ("clicking", "checking"... whatever word fits here) through pictures on facebook and the news about it and I saw someone that looks VERY familiar. This is a face I will never forget - and not in a bad way.
The story goes back to November 21, 2009. I was an adult leader in charge of a very small group of students at the National Catholic Youth Conference (NCYC). This was the last day of the conference and I wanted to partake in the sacrament of reconciliation before the big (AWESOME) closing mass, so after the last session of the day I headed over to where (I thought) all the priests were suppose to be. I found out that I was on the OPPOSITE side of the building than I was supposed to be, so I hustled over to where I was supposed to be only to discover that my lack of navigational skills placed me at the back of the line. And when I say I was at the back of the line, I WAS THE LAST PERSON in line. I called one of the other leaders to come get my group and take them to dinner and I would catch up with them later. Since my students were smart and had partaken in confession earlier in the day waiting for one of their sessions to start I didn't want to punish them by making them wait for me. I thought the line would go faster than it did and I waited for 90 minutes to have my confession heard. By this point I had 15 minutes to run down the Power and Light District (NCYC was in KC this year), find somewhere I could grab a very quick bite to eat, and somehow find my group at the spot we agreed we would meet. Well once I got to the spot we were going to meet I was VERY hungry and wanted to at least meet up with my group before going across the street to find some food. Well my group was NO WHERE to be found. (Side note: I am 5'0, so I am not a tall person which makes this more of a challenge). I must have looked like a little lost kid in Walmart because this (equally lost) priest asked me if he could help me. Well at this point I was exhausted, very hungry and my feet were hurting from walking for 3 days solid. I broke down crying. I explained I lost my group. I ached. And most of all I missed dinner because I was last in line for confession. I promise I must have sounded like the whiniest person on the planet because I just verbally exploded. Worst of all this wonderful God-fearing man was eating the most delightful smelling club sandwich and fries out of a to-go container. (One of my favorites!!) Knowing a little something about the food service business, I knew that this meal doesn't take long and I could possibly get one and still make it in the door in time for the closing ceremonies and mass I asked where he got it. He pointed to the bar across the street with a line half way down the block (Like almost every other joint at 645pm!!) I started walking across the street thinking I could get in quickly for a to-go order. I was told it would be at least 45 minutes before my food would be ready, so I left without food. Figuring I would just offer it up to Christ as a sacrifice I headed back to the huge crowd to once again look for my group. The priest saw me walking back over without a to-go container and summoned me. I explained that if I waited for food I wouldn't be able to have my hour of fasting prior to communion and I would get something after all the festivities (a minimum of 3 hours later). I think he knew desperation when he saw it. He had only ate half his sandwich and 3/4 of his fries. He offered them to me saying that no one should have to go hungry because of confession - I had chosen the greater good and should not be punished. I told him I wasn't going to take his food. He told me if I did not eat it he was going to throw it away and he hated wasting food when there were so many hungry people in the world. I told him he should eat it because he paid for it and there was no way what little he had eaten was enough to fill him up (he wasn't a short person by any stretch of the imagination). Well he told me he was done and it was all mine. After a few more rounds of "I can't take food away from a priest" he finally said, "don't you realize if I ever find which door I am supposed to be entering I am going to vest and feed you food from Heaven. You take food from a priest every time you attend mass." Well crap.... I was caught. I accepted his charitable offering and OH MAN DID IT TASTE AMAZING!! Hunger is the best seasoning! I tried to pay him for what I was consuming and he wouldn't take it. Stubborn priest! Since I had accidentally went in the wrong door the night before and ended up walking by the room the priests held their vestments in, I told him I knew where he was supposed to be and that he should follow me. As we walked to the other side of the building we got to talking. He was from the diocese of Helena, MT. He had been ordained a few years prior (something that was obvious from his youthful look - I actually was shocked at how long he had actually been a priest - 4 years. I thought he was NEWLY, and I mean only a few months ago ordained.) He was from the town outside where my husband and I had spent our honeymoon. His home parish was the same church we had attended while we were there. I kept gushing over how much I loved that town and my husband and I had talked about how awesome it would be to move there because we had fallen head over heels in love with the people, the town, the mountains, everything! When we finally got to the door he needed to be at, he looked at me and told me, "if you really want to repay me, pray for vocations in my diocese. We are really in a bind with limited numbers of priests." You know I never did ask his name (I copped out and just kept calling him Father and he kept answering to it!). I never did find my group until after the festivities. We met up at the hotel!
I think I saw him again today in a picture at the March for Life. He was surrounded by youth, nuns, and looked happy. I hope it was him.
So thank you Father - wherever you are these days. Thanks for answering your vocational call. Thank you for feeding me physically and spiritually that day. And most of all, know that I still pray for vocations in your diocese and all diocese and I am teaching my daughter to do the same. I think knowing that would make you smile.
The story goes back to November 21, 2009. I was an adult leader in charge of a very small group of students at the National Catholic Youth Conference (NCYC). This was the last day of the conference and I wanted to partake in the sacrament of reconciliation before the big (AWESOME) closing mass, so after the last session of the day I headed over to where (I thought) all the priests were suppose to be. I found out that I was on the OPPOSITE side of the building than I was supposed to be, so I hustled over to where I was supposed to be only to discover that my lack of navigational skills placed me at the back of the line. And when I say I was at the back of the line, I WAS THE LAST PERSON in line. I called one of the other leaders to come get my group and take them to dinner and I would catch up with them later. Since my students were smart and had partaken in confession earlier in the day waiting for one of their sessions to start I didn't want to punish them by making them wait for me. I thought the line would go faster than it did and I waited for 90 minutes to have my confession heard. By this point I had 15 minutes to run down the Power and Light District (NCYC was in KC this year), find somewhere I could grab a very quick bite to eat, and somehow find my group at the spot we agreed we would meet. Well once I got to the spot we were going to meet I was VERY hungry and wanted to at least meet up with my group before going across the street to find some food. Well my group was NO WHERE to be found. (Side note: I am 5'0, so I am not a tall person which makes this more of a challenge). I must have looked like a little lost kid in Walmart because this (equally lost) priest asked me if he could help me. Well at this point I was exhausted, very hungry and my feet were hurting from walking for 3 days solid. I broke down crying. I explained I lost my group. I ached. And most of all I missed dinner because I was last in line for confession. I promise I must have sounded like the whiniest person on the planet because I just verbally exploded. Worst of all this wonderful God-fearing man was eating the most delightful smelling club sandwich and fries out of a to-go container. (One of my favorites!!) Knowing a little something about the food service business, I knew that this meal doesn't take long and I could possibly get one and still make it in the door in time for the closing ceremonies and mass I asked where he got it. He pointed to the bar across the street with a line half way down the block (Like almost every other joint at 645pm!!) I started walking across the street thinking I could get in quickly for a to-go order. I was told it would be at least 45 minutes before my food would be ready, so I left without food. Figuring I would just offer it up to Christ as a sacrifice I headed back to the huge crowd to once again look for my group. The priest saw me walking back over without a to-go container and summoned me. I explained that if I waited for food I wouldn't be able to have my hour of fasting prior to communion and I would get something after all the festivities (a minimum of 3 hours later). I think he knew desperation when he saw it. He had only ate half his sandwich and 3/4 of his fries. He offered them to me saying that no one should have to go hungry because of confession - I had chosen the greater good and should not be punished. I told him I wasn't going to take his food. He told me if I did not eat it he was going to throw it away and he hated wasting food when there were so many hungry people in the world. I told him he should eat it because he paid for it and there was no way what little he had eaten was enough to fill him up (he wasn't a short person by any stretch of the imagination). Well he told me he was done and it was all mine. After a few more rounds of "I can't take food away from a priest" he finally said, "don't you realize if I ever find which door I am supposed to be entering I am going to vest and feed you food from Heaven. You take food from a priest every time you attend mass." Well crap.... I was caught. I accepted his charitable offering and OH MAN DID IT TASTE AMAZING!! Hunger is the best seasoning! I tried to pay him for what I was consuming and he wouldn't take it. Stubborn priest! Since I had accidentally went in the wrong door the night before and ended up walking by the room the priests held their vestments in, I told him I knew where he was supposed to be and that he should follow me. As we walked to the other side of the building we got to talking. He was from the diocese of Helena, MT. He had been ordained a few years prior (something that was obvious from his youthful look - I actually was shocked at how long he had actually been a priest - 4 years. I thought he was NEWLY, and I mean only a few months ago ordained.) He was from the town outside where my husband and I had spent our honeymoon. His home parish was the same church we had attended while we were there. I kept gushing over how much I loved that town and my husband and I had talked about how awesome it would be to move there because we had fallen head over heels in love with the people, the town, the mountains, everything! When we finally got to the door he needed to be at, he looked at me and told me, "if you really want to repay me, pray for vocations in my diocese. We are really in a bind with limited numbers of priests." You know I never did ask his name (I copped out and just kept calling him Father and he kept answering to it!). I never did find my group until after the festivities. We met up at the hotel!
I think I saw him again today in a picture at the March for Life. He was surrounded by youth, nuns, and looked happy. I hope it was him.
So thank you Father - wherever you are these days. Thanks for answering your vocational call. Thank you for feeding me physically and spiritually that day. And most of all, know that I still pray for vocations in your diocese and all diocese and I am teaching my daughter to do the same. I think knowing that would make you smile.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
What's wrong with the world
I have been hearing that my generation has gone to hell in a hand basket. (I guess I should say I am in my late 20s, my parents in their 50s and grandparents in their 70s). Supposedly we are spoiled, rude, and don't appreciate what we have. Also we are supposedly so self absorbed that we are stuck in the birth control/abortion mentality that our elders worry for the generations to come.
Well why I won't deny that many in my generation are like this, I maintain that this is learned behavior and it goes beyond our parents problem. Why do I blame those in the 60s (yes, half way between my grandparents and parents' age)? Well let me tell you:
I have been noticing how people treat my daughter and I when my husband is not around. Since I look like I am in high school, often times I can appear as a teenage mother. While I know that it has been over 10 years since I was a teenager (oh sweet merciful Jesus I feel old), I do realize that I was a teenage mother when the 70+ year olds were, I would have been sent off to some home or sheltered away with some random family member until the baby was born then adopted. I would have then returned home after a miraculously amazing vacation and no one would ask questions. All this is besides the point, because these men and women of this generation are the nicest to my daughter and me. They are always willing to make funny faces at her. She LOVES them. I never hear anything negative about being a parent from these men and women.
Well if you move on to those in their 60s you would think aliens had invaded the world and exchanged the brains of that generation with crazy-town brains. I blame the "free-lovin" and Roe v. Wade infection. What have both men and women said about me, my daughter, or both of us together that makes me think we live in a world of "Men in Black"? (and my responses)
"She's cute. It is too bad your birth control failed." (Yeah, she was and still is very much wanted and loved and I never took birth control)
"Why would you ever want to ruin your life for at least the next 18 years?" (My life isn't ruined, it is improved. She makes me love waking up each day to see what she can manage to do to make me giggle and love her even more)
"You are throwing your potential away." (No, I am living out a greater calling)
"Why would you want another kid? They are expensive. One is more than enough." (Umm.. as long as God is willing to grant us another kid, we are willing to be the best parents we can be. We say bring on the fun! Plus, our daughter needs someone to fight with.)
And these are just a few of the ones I could come up with off the top of my head. Oh, and not to mention the crabby lady at church who feels the need to scowl at my precious daughter. It is not my dear daughter's fault you can't see the face of God in a happy child who just wants to play peek-a-boo with you. She was not being loud, nor destructive, and was barely being distracting. Had you smiled at her, she would have moved on to her next object of attention.
There is a silver lining to my rant. I am noticing a return to common sense for our generation and those younger. There seems to be a growing appreciation for the respect for life movement. Maybe it is because we are young and haven't been completely sucked into the culture (for the record I don't believe this one), or it is that we have noticed what our parents did, realized it didn't work and want to return to a better time in history. Either way, as soon as people learn to realize that babies are a blessing, not a burden, the world will be made a better place.
Well why I won't deny that many in my generation are like this, I maintain that this is learned behavior and it goes beyond our parents problem. Why do I blame those in the 60s (yes, half way between my grandparents and parents' age)? Well let me tell you:
I have been noticing how people treat my daughter and I when my husband is not around. Since I look like I am in high school, often times I can appear as a teenage mother. While I know that it has been over 10 years since I was a teenager (oh sweet merciful Jesus I feel old), I do realize that I was a teenage mother when the 70+ year olds were, I would have been sent off to some home or sheltered away with some random family member until the baby was born then adopted. I would have then returned home after a miraculously amazing vacation and no one would ask questions. All this is besides the point, because these men and women of this generation are the nicest to my daughter and me. They are always willing to make funny faces at her. She LOVES them. I never hear anything negative about being a parent from these men and women.
Well if you move on to those in their 60s you would think aliens had invaded the world and exchanged the brains of that generation with crazy-town brains. I blame the "free-lovin" and Roe v. Wade infection. What have both men and women said about me, my daughter, or both of us together that makes me think we live in a world of "Men in Black"? (and my responses)
"She's cute. It is too bad your birth control failed." (Yeah, she was and still is very much wanted and loved and I never took birth control)
"Why would you ever want to ruin your life for at least the next 18 years?" (My life isn't ruined, it is improved. She makes me love waking up each day to see what she can manage to do to make me giggle and love her even more)
"You are throwing your potential away." (No, I am living out a greater calling)
"Why would you want another kid? They are expensive. One is more than enough." (Umm.. as long as God is willing to grant us another kid, we are willing to be the best parents we can be. We say bring on the fun! Plus, our daughter needs someone to fight with.)
And these are just a few of the ones I could come up with off the top of my head. Oh, and not to mention the crabby lady at church who feels the need to scowl at my precious daughter. It is not my dear daughter's fault you can't see the face of God in a happy child who just wants to play peek-a-boo with you. She was not being loud, nor destructive, and was barely being distracting. Had you smiled at her, she would have moved on to her next object of attention.
There is a silver lining to my rant. I am noticing a return to common sense for our generation and those younger. There seems to be a growing appreciation for the respect for life movement. Maybe it is because we are young and haven't been completely sucked into the culture (for the record I don't believe this one), or it is that we have noticed what our parents did, realized it didn't work and want to return to a better time in history. Either way, as soon as people learn to realize that babies are a blessing, not a burden, the world will be made a better place.
Saturday, July 14, 2012
Welcoming committee chair in training
The little lady and I recently went to daily mass on a Friday at her Godfather's parish (and yes he was the presiding pastor). Well I didn't realize that NO ONE uses the "front" door of the parish and that everyone comes through the side door (stage left). Well we sat in the second to the front row where everyone would have to walk past us. I had her standing on the pew in front of me while I was kneeling in prayer (yes, I was holding on to her) and I couldn't figure out why it seemed like she was acting like a washing machine on the agitation cycle, so I opened my eyes and watched her. As each person walked in the door she would make eye contact, smile, and follow him/her to the respective seat choice to see if the person would smile at her. If she got a smile as her chosen target walked through the door, she would flap her "wings" (arms) and wait for the next person to walk through the door. Each person was welcomed with a huge smile - one that was irresistible.
Well today in mass (at our "home" parish) she decided to attempt to bring joy to everyone around us. There was a grumpy lady seated behind us. The little lady tried to play peek-a-boo, smile, giggle, and generally be adorable. While it didn't work to make the lady smile, everyone else in the rows behind us were smiling and enjoying her "antics". I even had an older gentleman came up to me after the recessional to tell me how much he enjoyed watching my happy baby.
Give it a couple years and she will be the church's welcoming committee chair person!
Well today in mass (at our "home" parish) she decided to attempt to bring joy to everyone around us. There was a grumpy lady seated behind us. The little lady tried to play peek-a-boo, smile, giggle, and generally be adorable. While it didn't work to make the lady smile, everyone else in the rows behind us were smiling and enjoying her "antics". I even had an older gentleman came up to me after the recessional to tell me how much he enjoyed watching my happy baby.
Give it a couple years and she will be the church's welcoming committee chair person!
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Calling the priest....
I have learned that the words, "Oh, no, she never does that..." in reference to my daughter is usually viewed as a challenge to her and she promptly does it. One of the days I will remember this!
I was at my grandparents house today. The little lady was sitting on the floor playing quietly. I gave her my phone to play with (she likes to look at the pictures of herself). She has never called anyone - up until today. [Side note: some of the pictures are linked to phone numbers so when that person calls I see a picture of my daughter with that person. It makes me smile every time and is a quick way to see that whoever is calling is someone I know.] She was scrolling through the pictures of herself and came to a picture of her Godfather (who just happens to be a Catholic priest) holding her from her baptism weekend and she must have hit the "send" button because seconds after saying that she never calls anyone I looked down and saw the timer going and it said 20 seconds and counting and my daughter was chatting away. I looked at her and said, "What are you doing?" She laughed, smiled and I quickly picked up the phone. She had actually made the call and he answered.
I was pretty embarrassed! I had no reason to call him - and I knew he probably was busy working. The little lady decided she needed something to tell him that was very important and couldn't wait. Too bad neither one of us knew what she was telling him because it sounded like babble to the "adults".
There is a reason why I think she called him. Other than I gave her something that looked like a fun play toy with buttons. God thought he could use a smile. I was unaware that he was having a bad day, but he was. He enjoyed the fact that she called him and was chatting. Who can not smile at the sound of a baby chatting anyway? I believe God used my daughter to make someone's day better - and that is awesome. After apologizing for interrupting his busy day, he did express a hope that my daughter feels comfortable enough when she is 18 to call him up randomly and chat. So do I!
I was at my grandparents house today. The little lady was sitting on the floor playing quietly. I gave her my phone to play with (she likes to look at the pictures of herself). She has never called anyone - up until today. [Side note: some of the pictures are linked to phone numbers so when that person calls I see a picture of my daughter with that person. It makes me smile every time and is a quick way to see that whoever is calling is someone I know.] She was scrolling through the pictures of herself and came to a picture of her Godfather (who just happens to be a Catholic priest) holding her from her baptism weekend and she must have hit the "send" button because seconds after saying that she never calls anyone I looked down and saw the timer going and it said 20 seconds and counting and my daughter was chatting away. I looked at her and said, "What are you doing?" She laughed, smiled and I quickly picked up the phone. She had actually made the call and he answered.
I was pretty embarrassed! I had no reason to call him - and I knew he probably was busy working. The little lady decided she needed something to tell him that was very important and couldn't wait. Too bad neither one of us knew what she was telling him because it sounded like babble to the "adults".
There is a reason why I think she called him. Other than I gave her something that looked like a fun play toy with buttons. God thought he could use a smile. I was unaware that he was having a bad day, but he was. He enjoyed the fact that she called him and was chatting. Who can not smile at the sound of a baby chatting anyway? I believe God used my daughter to make someone's day better - and that is awesome. After apologizing for interrupting his busy day, he did express a hope that my daughter feels comfortable enough when she is 18 to call him up randomly and chat. So do I!
Friday, April 6, 2012
How do you make a priest smile on the most solemn day of the year?
The answer to this is....be my daughter. She is such a stinker pants!
So she and I went to veneration of the Cross today. She conked out on me on the drive there (no surprise there!) I didn't think anything of sitting in the front row like we always do. She likes to look around and I like to be able to see as well. During the readings and the petitions (even with all the standing kneeling associated with this service) she was like a very heavy and dead sack of potatoes all snuggled up under my chin. She was awake, but just cuddling. The guy beside me leaned over and whispered how cute and calm she was being right after the Our Father. She took it as a challenge - I SWEAR!! The second the priest starts to part of the service that is the quietest and most solemn she starts giggling, laughing, cooing. As the congregation is walking up to the altar for veneration she starts doing her snow angel interpretation (waving her arms and legs wildly like she is making the largest snow angel she can muster), cooing, laughing, squealing for joy....everything in her power to draw as much attention as she can get. I tried EVERYTHING in my power to get her to be quiet. Offered her the bottle - not interested. Binkie? - oh no, who needs that? She attempted to turbo launch it across the church. The binkie saver cord saved it from landing on the altar or the floor. Shhh'ing her only made her want to be louder. Offering her the little squishy bear in the diaper bag - yeah, she threw that on the floor. Turning her around to face me - no help. Turning her to face the stain glass window - no go! That just caused her to lean over backwards and about head dive onto the floor. All she wanted to do was dance and squeal for joy while facing the altar.
Did I mention that we were in the front row? Oh yeah. Father could have taken 2 or 3 steps and touched the top of her head. She was in his periphery. He LOST IT!!! He tried to remain solemn and straight faced, but failed miserably!! He was laughing, as was about 1/4 the church.
Why didn't I get up and go to the back of the church? Well on one side was a lady who required a walker to move (which was in front of her), so we couldn't go that way. She seemed to be the only person in the entire church who wasn't distracted by my overly happy child. The other way.....the procession line and the gentleman who was finding this very enjoyable and funny. Plus he couldn't stand well either.
What did I learn from this?
1. I am SO going to hear about this from Father. This story is almost guaranteed to be told sometime during a homily.
2. Sit in a pew with easy access to the isle. No more sitting in the middle of a pew that holds about 20 people.
3. Lent really is about the joy of the resurrection. My child just was a day and half early in celebrating.
Oh, side note: on the way home she was asleep before we got out of the parking lot! I guess she wore herself out with all that playing. That or she was just bored without loads of people to play with.
So she and I went to veneration of the Cross today. She conked out on me on the drive there (no surprise there!) I didn't think anything of sitting in the front row like we always do. She likes to look around and I like to be able to see as well. During the readings and the petitions (even with all the standing kneeling associated with this service) she was like a very heavy and dead sack of potatoes all snuggled up under my chin. She was awake, but just cuddling. The guy beside me leaned over and whispered how cute and calm she was being right after the Our Father. She took it as a challenge - I SWEAR!! The second the priest starts to part of the service that is the quietest and most solemn she starts giggling, laughing, cooing. As the congregation is walking up to the altar for veneration she starts doing her snow angel interpretation (waving her arms and legs wildly like she is making the largest snow angel she can muster), cooing, laughing, squealing for joy....everything in her power to draw as much attention as she can get. I tried EVERYTHING in my power to get her to be quiet. Offered her the bottle - not interested. Binkie? - oh no, who needs that? She attempted to turbo launch it across the church. The binkie saver cord saved it from landing on the altar or the floor. Shhh'ing her only made her want to be louder. Offering her the little squishy bear in the diaper bag - yeah, she threw that on the floor. Turning her around to face me - no help. Turning her to face the stain glass window - no go! That just caused her to lean over backwards and about head dive onto the floor. All she wanted to do was dance and squeal for joy while facing the altar.
Did I mention that we were in the front row? Oh yeah. Father could have taken 2 or 3 steps and touched the top of her head. She was in his periphery. He LOST IT!!! He tried to remain solemn and straight faced, but failed miserably!! He was laughing, as was about 1/4 the church.
Why didn't I get up and go to the back of the church? Well on one side was a lady who required a walker to move (which was in front of her), so we couldn't go that way. She seemed to be the only person in the entire church who wasn't distracted by my overly happy child. The other way.....the procession line and the gentleman who was finding this very enjoyable and funny. Plus he couldn't stand well either.
What did I learn from this?
1. I am SO going to hear about this from Father. This story is almost guaranteed to be told sometime during a homily.
2. Sit in a pew with easy access to the isle. No more sitting in the middle of a pew that holds about 20 people.
3. Lent really is about the joy of the resurrection. My child just was a day and half early in celebrating.
Oh, side note: on the way home she was asleep before we got out of the parking lot! I guess she wore herself out with all that playing. That or she was just bored without loads of people to play with.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Sad Commentary on Society
So last week (Friday) I went to church with my daughter for Stations of the Cross. After the service I was talking to priest and a lady stepped between us and said to me, "Thank you for not aborting your child." Well I looked over her shoulder to see the look on Fr.'s face - it was one of shock and awe and I think there might have been a twinkle of "how is she going to handle this one..." (he is a little ornery sometimes). Well I looked back at her and as gently and kindly as I could muster while being as shocked as possible, I responded by saying, "While she was a little bit of a surprise, she is and was very much wanted and loved. My husband and I are truly blessed to have her." To which Fr.'s face turned to one of awe and love (and there might have been a little bit of a tear forming since he was aware of our struggles with carrying a baby to full term). She mumbled something about thinking I was a teenage mom because I looked so young. I told her my age. She didn't believe me. Fr. reassured her that I was in fact at least as old as I claimed (he tried to add a year or so onto my age!)
So...fast forward a week to last night. I took my daughter to Saturday evening mass because I had to work Saturday night and didn't really feel like getting up a couple hours after I had got home from work to attempt to be functional during mass. My husband was at work and had just got off work as I was leaving the house and he was in no condition to go to mass with me (really tired, kinda stinky, etc), so again I went to church without him (he'll go in the morning when he is good and rested)... THE SAME LADY comes up to me after mass and tells me how cute my daughter is (yeah, I know but it is nice to hear, and I thanked her). The she proceeds to tell me about her son and how she doesn't have any grand-kids. I think I mumbled something about how unfortunate that is (I am trying to hit the door so I can drop my daughter off at home to play with her dad and so I can get to work on time). Then she proceeds to attempt to set me up with him. I reminded her that I am married and have been for almost six years and that this child that she was admiring is in fact his. Oh yeah, and her son is 52 years old. I am 28!
So my reflections upon this:
1. It is sad that people seem to think that mothers need to be thanked for not aborting their kid. It should be a shock to the system that moms would consider killing their child, not the other way around. Kids are a blessing, not a burden!
2. I sometimes hate being so short. I get associated with teenagers a lot more often than I want to admit. While it has been about a year since I was given the kids' menu at a restaurant, I do have a "young" looking face and short stature! Grrr.......
3. Gee... lady.... last week you think I am a teenage mom. This week you think I look old enough to date your son who is my mom's age. Did I really look that bad at mass? I asked a co-worker if I looked that rough, and she said I looked the same as I usually do. (Then a few comments about my height and charming teenager looks were added for good measure!)
4. Maybe I need to go to church with my husband so this lady doesn't keep talking to me. I think she thinks he is a figment of my imagination. He is in fact very real and a great dad to our daughter! Back off lady, I am not interested in your son!
So...fast forward a week to last night. I took my daughter to Saturday evening mass because I had to work Saturday night and didn't really feel like getting up a couple hours after I had got home from work to attempt to be functional during mass. My husband was at work and had just got off work as I was leaving the house and he was in no condition to go to mass with me (really tired, kinda stinky, etc), so again I went to church without him (he'll go in the morning when he is good and rested)... THE SAME LADY comes up to me after mass and tells me how cute my daughter is (yeah, I know but it is nice to hear, and I thanked her). The she proceeds to tell me about her son and how she doesn't have any grand-kids. I think I mumbled something about how unfortunate that is (I am trying to hit the door so I can drop my daughter off at home to play with her dad and so I can get to work on time). Then she proceeds to attempt to set me up with him. I reminded her that I am married and have been for almost six years and that this child that she was admiring is in fact his. Oh yeah, and her son is 52 years old. I am 28!
So my reflections upon this:
1. It is sad that people seem to think that mothers need to be thanked for not aborting their kid. It should be a shock to the system that moms would consider killing their child, not the other way around. Kids are a blessing, not a burden!
2. I sometimes hate being so short. I get associated with teenagers a lot more often than I want to admit. While it has been about a year since I was given the kids' menu at a restaurant, I do have a "young" looking face and short stature! Grrr.......
3. Gee... lady.... last week you think I am a teenage mom. This week you think I look old enough to date your son who is my mom's age. Did I really look that bad at mass? I asked a co-worker if I looked that rough, and she said I looked the same as I usually do. (Then a few comments about my height and charming teenager looks were added for good measure!)
4. Maybe I need to go to church with my husband so this lady doesn't keep talking to me. I think she thinks he is a figment of my imagination. He is in fact very real and a great dad to our daughter! Back off lady, I am not interested in your son!
Friday, March 16, 2012
Commentary on my parenting - from my daughter
So my mom taught my daughter how to blow raspberries. A fact that is adorable, but she uses it negatively. It started as a tactic that was used whenever she was annoyed, she blew raspberries. LOUDLY! She now does it to her dad during play time.
Well for the last couple weeks instead of screaming when she was annoyed with me she would blow raspberries. This is a fact I am fine with. It is so much more socially acceptable for a baby to blow raspberries (it is very cute) than to scream it's little head off.
She and I went to stations of the cross tonight and she blew raspberries almost the entire time. (She did take a short break from it starting at the 13th station, when she passed out until the end). If you are not Catholic or have not been to stations of the cross, the best way to explain it is Catholic Jazzercise. It is beyond Catholic aerobics (aka the Mass). The kneeling-standing routine happens approximately 60 times in about 30 minutes. You are in constant motion. Well I had her in her Kangaroo pouch and she wanted a nap. Because I kept moving with the stations, she couldn't fall asleep as easily. So she blew raspberries. When Fr. walked by between the 4th and 5th station, he saw her doing this and laughed. I guess I shouldn't be nearly as embarrassed as I was. She was adorable doing it, even if I knew she was annoyed.
Well for the last couple weeks instead of screaming when she was annoyed with me she would blow raspberries. This is a fact I am fine with. It is so much more socially acceptable for a baby to blow raspberries (it is very cute) than to scream it's little head off.
She and I went to stations of the cross tonight and she blew raspberries almost the entire time. (She did take a short break from it starting at the 13th station, when she passed out until the end). If you are not Catholic or have not been to stations of the cross, the best way to explain it is Catholic Jazzercise. It is beyond Catholic aerobics (aka the Mass). The kneeling-standing routine happens approximately 60 times in about 30 minutes. You are in constant motion. Well I had her in her Kangaroo pouch and she wanted a nap. Because I kept moving with the stations, she couldn't fall asleep as easily. So she blew raspberries. When Fr. walked by between the 4th and 5th station, he saw her doing this and laughed. I guess I shouldn't be nearly as embarrassed as I was. She was adorable doing it, even if I knew she was annoyed.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Visit from a Priest and a true gift of Friendship
I have known a man who is a priest since he was between his junior and senior year of high school. There is no human reason we should have remained friends - it is only because God knew we needed each other in our lives. I like to say he's the little brother I never got and I am the older sister he doesn't need. (He has four sister and no brothers!) Here's how the story goes:
2002 - I am a camp counselor at a retreat center in a different diocese. I drove 5 hours (driving through a couple diocese in the process) to volunteer at this camp because the director of the camp (my uncle) needed more counselors for his senior high school camp. There I met this tall, mildly awkward kid with a funny name. One of the first conversations we ever had included me asking him where he was thinking of applying to college (I was in college, he was going to be a senior - seemed like a logical question). His response shocked me - with a big smile and excitement he said, "I am going into the seminary. I am going to be a priest." How could this kid be so certain when I didn't even know what I wanted to do with my life and I was older than he was? My response was something like, "That's awesome. I will pray for you."
2003 - Same camp, same senior week. I only remembered 3 kids from the previous year. The same kid with the funny name was there. He was taller and less awkward. Since he had graduated from high school, I wanted to know one thing, so I asked if he was still going to the seminary. There was an excitement in his eyes when he said he was. At the end of the week long camp we exchanged emails and instant messenger names (yes, this was the age of instant messenger). I never knew if I was going to see this kid again or not, but everyone needs more friends.
Over the next two years we occasionally would "check in with each other." Not often, but often enough. He came down for my college graduation in 2005 - not a short drive from his college in Minnesota. It was nice to see him again after not seeing him for two years. A year later I got married to a wonderful man. Since he was a seminarian, my husband and I asked him to be the petitioner at our wedding. A married couple (my husband's aunt & uncle) did the readings. We thought it would be appropriate for a married couple to read about the Bible's words on marriage and a seminarian to do the prayers. I also gave him carte blanche on what the petitions should be to. The note I handed him said something along the lines: "You are a seminarian. If I have to tell you how to pray your diocese has issues." He did a great job.
We would not see each other until his deaconate ordination over four years later. I had a little surprise up my sleeves for this. A few weeks before his ordination I called him and asked him if I could bring someone with me, but I would take care of feeding this person, he didn't need to worry about it. I had to laugh when he told me there would be more than enough food and I wouldn't need to worry about it - I could bring anyone I wanted. After over five minutes of hinting around I had to just come out and say, "hey, you're not getting the hint - I AM PREGNANT!" The only thing that could have made this story better would have been if I would have been able to see his face when I said it. I could hear the excitement through the cell phone. This excitement was continued at his ordination. I couldn't have been more excited/proud of him.
This excitement came to a crashing halt three weeks later when I sent him a text asking him to pray for me and my unborn baby because I was going in for emergency surgery for a ruptured appendix. My surgery was very early on a Sunday morning, which made me feel guilty because I missed mass. So while my husband was at mass (I was out of surgery and in a room to recover by this point) my now deacon friend read the mass readings to me and gave me a blessing via the phone. (I don't know the rules on long distance blessings, but we gave it a go) On Tuesday my husband and my world was forever changed when our son was stillborn. When my deacon friend found out he immediately booked a flight to come down for the funeral. He even spoke with the priest that was set to preside over the funeral to make sure everything was in place. He also helped with the funeral as a deacon.
The following year when he was set to be ordained a priest I was excited to witness it. He even asked me to be the second reader at this event. I was able to see him the weekend prior to his ordination at a different man's ordination and I had a little surprise for him. He got an early ordination gift and letter from my unborn child. Yes, I was pregnant again! I got to see his face when he realized there was a little baby inside of me. He was super happy for me. I was the same place in this pregnancy as I was when our son was stillborn, so I was beginning to feel movement. The following week at his ordination my daughter had a surprise for everyone. She decided to be a part of the ordination. Right in the middle of the reading, she kicked my bladder. I stopped/paused reading to make sure I didn't wet myself. It was very noticeable. While up in his diocese I did somebehind his back investigation chatting with his bishop. You see my husband and I wanted him to be the Godfather of our baby, but we both knew that some diocese don't allow priests to be Godfathers. (We didn't want to ask him and then find out it wasn't allowed - oh the disappointment that would have been for everyone involved) I had already found out about our diocese. His was a go! So after we found out our little baby was going to be a girl (at Father's day weekend no less), we asked if he would be willing to agree to be the Godfather. He was! And five months later he baptized his own Goddaughter.
He came down to visit for a couple days recently. He wanted to escape his parish (yes, priests need breaks from the stress of parish life sometimes) and to visit his Goddaughter and my husband and me. It was nice to see him again and the little lady decided to celebrate by rolling over unaided for the first time with the three of us watching. He also honored us by celebrating mass in our house a few times. He also anointed the little lady with the same batch of chrism that was used at his ordination a few months prior. Something that is nice and somewhat humbling. Not to mention she smelled heavenly for a few days following his departure.
2002 - I am a camp counselor at a retreat center in a different diocese. I drove 5 hours (driving through a couple diocese in the process) to volunteer at this camp because the director of the camp (my uncle) needed more counselors for his senior high school camp. There I met this tall, mildly awkward kid with a funny name. One of the first conversations we ever had included me asking him where he was thinking of applying to college (I was in college, he was going to be a senior - seemed like a logical question). His response shocked me - with a big smile and excitement he said, "I am going into the seminary. I am going to be a priest." How could this kid be so certain when I didn't even know what I wanted to do with my life and I was older than he was? My response was something like, "That's awesome. I will pray for you."
2003 - Same camp, same senior week. I only remembered 3 kids from the previous year. The same kid with the funny name was there. He was taller and less awkward. Since he had graduated from high school, I wanted to know one thing, so I asked if he was still going to the seminary. There was an excitement in his eyes when he said he was. At the end of the week long camp we exchanged emails and instant messenger names (yes, this was the age of instant messenger). I never knew if I was going to see this kid again or not, but everyone needs more friends.
Over the next two years we occasionally would "check in with each other." Not often, but often enough. He came down for my college graduation in 2005 - not a short drive from his college in Minnesota. It was nice to see him again after not seeing him for two years. A year later I got married to a wonderful man. Since he was a seminarian, my husband and I asked him to be the petitioner at our wedding. A married couple (my husband's aunt & uncle) did the readings. We thought it would be appropriate for a married couple to read about the Bible's words on marriage and a seminarian to do the prayers. I also gave him carte blanche on what the petitions should be to. The note I handed him said something along the lines: "You are a seminarian. If I have to tell you how to pray your diocese has issues." He did a great job.
We would not see each other until his deaconate ordination over four years later. I had a little surprise up my sleeves for this. A few weeks before his ordination I called him and asked him if I could bring someone with me, but I would take care of feeding this person, he didn't need to worry about it. I had to laugh when he told me there would be more than enough food and I wouldn't need to worry about it - I could bring anyone I wanted. After over five minutes of hinting around I had to just come out and say, "hey, you're not getting the hint - I AM PREGNANT!" The only thing that could have made this story better would have been if I would have been able to see his face when I said it. I could hear the excitement through the cell phone. This excitement was continued at his ordination. I couldn't have been more excited/proud of him.
This excitement came to a crashing halt three weeks later when I sent him a text asking him to pray for me and my unborn baby because I was going in for emergency surgery for a ruptured appendix. My surgery was very early on a Sunday morning, which made me feel guilty because I missed mass. So while my husband was at mass (I was out of surgery and in a room to recover by this point) my now deacon friend read the mass readings to me and gave me a blessing via the phone. (I don't know the rules on long distance blessings, but we gave it a go) On Tuesday my husband and my world was forever changed when our son was stillborn. When my deacon friend found out he immediately booked a flight to come down for the funeral. He even spoke with the priest that was set to preside over the funeral to make sure everything was in place. He also helped with the funeral as a deacon.
The following year when he was set to be ordained a priest I was excited to witness it. He even asked me to be the second reader at this event. I was able to see him the weekend prior to his ordination at a different man's ordination and I had a little surprise for him. He got an early ordination gift and letter from my unborn child. Yes, I was pregnant again! I got to see his face when he realized there was a little baby inside of me. He was super happy for me. I was the same place in this pregnancy as I was when our son was stillborn, so I was beginning to feel movement. The following week at his ordination my daughter had a surprise for everyone. She decided to be a part of the ordination. Right in the middle of the reading, she kicked my bladder. I stopped/paused reading to make sure I didn't wet myself. It was very noticeable. While up in his diocese I did some
He came down to visit for a couple days recently. He wanted to escape his parish (yes, priests need breaks from the stress of parish life sometimes) and to visit his Goddaughter and my husband and me. It was nice to see him again and the little lady decided to celebrate by rolling over unaided for the first time with the three of us watching. He also honored us by celebrating mass in our house a few times. He also anointed the little lady with the same batch of chrism that was used at his ordination a few months prior. Something that is nice and somewhat humbling. Not to mention she smelled heavenly for a few days following his departure.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Play date! And a true gift of friendship from God!
Ok, so I have to start this by saying that I am super excited about the opportunity to have play dates for my daughter with my friend Sarah and her 2 adorable boys and 1 very angelic little girl.
Sarah and I became friends because I am a persistent stalker! This might sound a bit severe, but hey, sometimes the truth hurts. We were both transfers to a nearby Catholic college (about an hour from both of our parent's homes - her to the NE and me to the SW) She transferred from a different Catholic college to be closer to her family. I transferred in to be at a Catholic college instead of the public university I was at. I transferred in at the beginning of Fall semester while she came in the Spring. This being said, since I was commuting to and from campus, I really didn't know anyone and when we both showed up to class freakishly early we got to talking. She was shy and polite. Like always, I WOULDN'T SHUT UP! I am fairly confident she was thinking, "what kind of freak show is this girl?" (Not to mention I was on crutches for some moronic injury which only added to my spastic level!) I don't know what it was (so I blame/give credit to God for my persistence in the matter), but something (or someone) told me that I had to befriend her. I needed her in my life. Well over the course of the semester we would always show up to class early and talk - sometimes about schoolwork, but usually about life in general. The next semester we had a couple classes together, and the following, and so on. Since we were in the same major, it made sense that we would be seeing each other often.
Fast forward three years to graduation day. By now we were good friends - and have a couple "classic" (read: neither can manage to keep eyes open and look "normal" when a camera is involved) pictures to celebrate the big event of moving on to the next step in our lives. We were both engaged. I had asked her to be a bride's maid in my wedding that would take place the following May. She would get married before me in January. Such a BEAUTIFUL bride she made and the service was amazing. Well when it came to my wedding she was pregnant! EEKK!! Happy bride and even happier momma-to-be! Although looking at her and at the pictures you would have never been able to tell she was about 3 1/2 months along. (Although she maintains she had a little bump, I never saw it!) So her little prince was born in late October 2006. She would have another prince in November 2008.
When 2010 rolled around we were excited to discover that we were pregnant at the same time. Our due dates were 1 week apart! She was one of 6 other friends that was due within 2 months of my due date. My child would have lots of play buddies. Well, all that excitement came crashing to a halt when my son was still born in early December 2010. Sarah was available with a very nice phone call, a very supportive email, and knowing her - prayers. Loads of prayers. Did I mention she is one of the most faith filled people! Well when her daughter was born (a little fashionably late, but the day after my son was due), I was super excited because at least one of us would have a baby to hold/take care of. By this point I knew I was pregnant again, but not telling anyone. I knew I shouldn't spill the beans to her before the grandparents, but it nearly happened when I learned about her daughter's birth. Sarah was one of the first people to comment about my pregnancy announcement and much to her joy and surprise my little angel arrived the day after her oldest son's birthday. (The one that was in my wedding in his mama's belly). :) They are birthday buddies.
At our first play date, her two sons were AMAZING around my daughter. So attentive and sweet! I just wanted to pick them up, squeeze them, and clone them to take home because of how awesome they were. Between those two boys and their daddy, Sarah's daughter's future courtiers have a huge mountain to climb! Not to mention we hope to continue our play dates over the course of the following years so that our kids can grow up with awesome Catholic friends and her daughter doesn't have to be scarred for life by my daughter when they would meet in college)
So we have a play date with the 4 kids for a few hours. I was greeted at the door by both of the boys peering out of the door smiling as big as can be. My daughter got her first present from a boy not related to her (and her own age) - a beautiful drawing of her and a church. HOW SWEET!! So I put it in her baby book when we got home. The adults got to talk (sometimes over my crying/teething baby). The boys offered to share their toys with my daughter (HOW CUTE!). There were loads of hugs and kisses. (Yes, my daughter got her first kiss from a boy - her birthday buddy and his little brother both kissed her on the top of the head when their mom was feeding their little sister, but shhhhh, don't tell her) I got to hold (for the few minutes she would let me) Sarah's daughter. While it makes me sad to see how big my son would have been and what he could be accomplishing, the joy that my daughter brings outranks the sadness. We did not do anything earth shattering. It really was a go visit a friend and her kids, talk, have some lunch, and basically get out of the house kind of day. But aren't those the best anyway?
I am soooo excited to see my friend who was sent from heaven again. Living about 3 hours apart really stinks!
Would my life have continued had Sarah realized my spastic nature and transferred out of that fateful class into one with "normal" students? Yes. Would it have been as colorful? No. I thank God for a friend like her who shows me what a good Catholic mom these days looks like.
Sarah and I became friends because I am a persistent stalker! This might sound a bit severe, but hey, sometimes the truth hurts. We were both transfers to a nearby Catholic college (about an hour from both of our parent's homes - her to the NE and me to the SW) She transferred from a different Catholic college to be closer to her family. I transferred in to be at a Catholic college instead of the public university I was at. I transferred in at the beginning of Fall semester while she came in the Spring. This being said, since I was commuting to and from campus, I really didn't know anyone and when we both showed up to class freakishly early we got to talking. She was shy and polite. Like always, I WOULDN'T SHUT UP! I am fairly confident she was thinking, "what kind of freak show is this girl?" (Not to mention I was on crutches for some moronic injury which only added to my spastic level!) I don't know what it was (so I blame/give credit to God for my persistence in the matter), but something (or someone) told me that I had to befriend her. I needed her in my life. Well over the course of the semester we would always show up to class early and talk - sometimes about schoolwork, but usually about life in general. The next semester we had a couple classes together, and the following, and so on. Since we were in the same major, it made sense that we would be seeing each other often.
Fast forward three years to graduation day. By now we were good friends - and have a couple "classic" (read: neither can manage to keep eyes open and look "normal" when a camera is involved) pictures to celebrate the big event of moving on to the next step in our lives. We were both engaged. I had asked her to be a bride's maid in my wedding that would take place the following May. She would get married before me in January. Such a BEAUTIFUL bride she made and the service was amazing. Well when it came to my wedding she was pregnant! EEKK!! Happy bride and even happier momma-to-be! Although looking at her and at the pictures you would have never been able to tell she was about 3 1/2 months along. (Although she maintains she had a little bump, I never saw it!) So her little prince was born in late October 2006. She would have another prince in November 2008.
When 2010 rolled around we were excited to discover that we were pregnant at the same time. Our due dates were 1 week apart! She was one of 6 other friends that was due within 2 months of my due date. My child would have lots of play buddies. Well, all that excitement came crashing to a halt when my son was still born in early December 2010. Sarah was available with a very nice phone call, a very supportive email, and knowing her - prayers. Loads of prayers. Did I mention she is one of the most faith filled people! Well when her daughter was born (a little fashionably late, but the day after my son was due), I was super excited because at least one of us would have a baby to hold/take care of. By this point I knew I was pregnant again, but not telling anyone. I knew I shouldn't spill the beans to her before the grandparents, but it nearly happened when I learned about her daughter's birth. Sarah was one of the first people to comment about my pregnancy announcement and much to her joy and surprise my little angel arrived the day after her oldest son's birthday. (The one that was in my wedding in his mama's belly). :) They are birthday buddies.
At our first play date, her two sons were AMAZING around my daughter. So attentive and sweet! I just wanted to pick them up, squeeze them, and clone them to take home because of how awesome they were. Between those two boys and their daddy, Sarah's daughter's future courtiers have a huge mountain to climb! Not to mention we hope to continue our play dates over the course of the following years so that our kids can grow up with awesome Catholic friends and her daughter doesn't have to be scarred for life by my daughter when they would meet in college)
So we have a play date with the 4 kids for a few hours. I was greeted at the door by both of the boys peering out of the door smiling as big as can be. My daughter got her first present from a boy not related to her (and her own age) - a beautiful drawing of her and a church. HOW SWEET!! So I put it in her baby book when we got home. The adults got to talk (sometimes over my crying/teething baby). The boys offered to share their toys with my daughter (HOW CUTE!). There were loads of hugs and kisses. (Yes, my daughter got her first kiss from a boy - her birthday buddy and his little brother both kissed her on the top of the head when their mom was feeding their little sister, but shhhhh, don't tell her) I got to hold (for the few minutes she would let me) Sarah's daughter. While it makes me sad to see how big my son would have been and what he could be accomplishing, the joy that my daughter brings outranks the sadness. We did not do anything earth shattering. It really was a go visit a friend and her kids, talk, have some lunch, and basically get out of the house kind of day. But aren't those the best anyway?
I am soooo excited to see my friend who was sent from heaven again. Living about 3 hours apart really stinks!
Would my life have continued had Sarah realized my spastic nature and transferred out of that fateful class into one with "normal" students? Yes. Would it have been as colorful? No. I thank God for a friend like her who shows me what a good Catholic mom these days looks like.
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