In Response to An Accusation of Selfishness ~ My Thoughts On the Benefits of Raising Teens Alongside Babies

Last week my dear husband exercised his masterful negotiation skills to secure a sweet deal on some new furniture for our living room. Ever since our mold remediation project last winter, we've been furniture-free and, given my current condition, the floor is becoming less and less hospitable to my limited grace and flexibility.

So every afternoon from  2p.m. - 4 p.m., my heart sings the Hallelujah Chorus because I get the recliner all to myself, and it's heavenly!  I pop in my earplugs (if you don't own a pair, you don't know what you're missing!), prop my ten ELEVEN days overdue swollen self up and rexaaaaax while the boys run willy nilly around me.

Yesterday, while reclining, I gazed in amusement at our little Joseph, who stood silently at the front door, his nose pressed to the foggy glass, humid breaths clouding his view of the driveway. He waited patiently for the brother he most adores, but soon the wait was over.  His eyes brightened, ears perked, and a chubby finger rose up to point out the tall figure that sauntered up the sidewalk. Under his breath I could hear him chant, "Ben, Ben, Ben, Ben...."

JOEY!!! 

To the floor fell the big brother's backpack, and with the weight of the day released, his arms were now free to scoop up some love.

I never, ever tire of watching their after school reunions.  It's a marvelous gift, their relationship - tender, feisty, earnest.

A little footage from a recent track meet:

Ooooo yay! Dandelions! 

 Hold still, Ben, while I blow these fluffy white things in yo face.

I'm gonna watch you PR in triple jump just as soon as I get done bwowin' deese  fwuffies off a here.

Sibling relationships truly are a treasure, but they are also something that I think can be so easily overlooked and undervalued in our world today...

I remember it was sometime last fall when a message from a fellow blogging friend appeared in my inbox.  She was confronting comments that had been made to her concerning family size, specifically about how couples, who continue to welcome babies into the family while raising teenagers at the same time, are behaving selfishly, and she wanted my opinion on the matter.

I nearly fell out of my chair.  Having a baby....when you have a teenager in the home....is selfish???

*Please note, before I continue, that the remainder of this post is meant to address the following comments toward raising teenagers alongside of babies.  It is not meant, in any way, to suggest that meaningful relationships and a virtuous life cannot be obtained outside of the home or outside of a large family unit.  Again, I am simply offering a positive perspective on the less-obvious merits of parenting teens and little ones at the same time.

Reading on, the comments she shared with me were this:

• It's not fair to expect teens to give up their personal time and freedom to help take care of little siblings.
• Having a newborn in the home compromises the amount of time and focused attention a parent can give their teens, time and attention that is critical to their own development and maturation.
• Teenagers shouldn't have to give up precious opportunities academically or athletically because parents can't facilitate or afford to support their teens personal growth and interests. 

After my locked jaw and gritted teeth finally relaxed, I decided to postpone my reactive response and instead seek out the perspective of a trusted teen source - my oldest son.

I simply opened our dialogue with this question:

Ben, do you ever feel like you are missing out on certain life experiences or opportunities because you have younger siblings in the home that require our time and attention? Younger siblings that you also are often asked to help take care of?

The look on his face said it all.  But do you want to know what his response was?

Mom, if you're asking if I would rather have golf lessons or that our family could take more trips, or I could have my own four wheeler (which I know he desperately wants), instead of another little brother then the answer is, NO. I could never want any of those things more than Joseph or Charlie or any of my brothers.

While my heart was soothed by his answer, I wanted to press him even further....

Yes, but, you know that you have more responsibilities here at home, since Dad and I often need your help.  Not many kids your age have to change diapers, give baths, or read picture books at night to toddlers, so that I can keep the laundry going and dad can help with homework. And, I want you to know it's okay to tell me exactly how you feel about it all.

He looked me in the eye, and short and sweet said this:

Mom, honestly, I don't mind.  In fact, I think I'm going to miss it when I'm gone.

After my conversation with Ben, I wasn't sure exactly how to respond to my friend's e-mail.  I really believe that the person confronting her was not trying to be offensive in sharing her opinions - in fact, I think most people who agree with her or follow her train of thought really do believe that their points are valid and worth discussing.

So, I don't fault her, whoever she is. However, if she is going to press those of us - all of us - who have babies and teens in the same house, with such opinions, then she must certainly be ready for an honest response, and this is mine:

In a nutshell - we are undoubtedly living in a time and culture where self-centeredness is encouraged and facilitated to such a great degree, that we no longer recognize the value of sacrificing for the greater good of the other above our own self-interests. Social media offers a plethora of evidence to to this truth.

Naturally, any sort of family structure that fosters opportunities for sacrificial acts of selflessness would seem countercultural, and certainly counterproductive by todays child-rearing standards. Because many parents today do not recognize the home as a place where their children might discover themselves through a sincere gift of self (St. John Paul II) to their family (primarily through sacrificial acts of generosity), opportunities for self-discovery and affirmation are typically sought in popularly social venues outside of the home, such as sports, music, and even academic fields.

While these opportunities have their own merit and value in a child's life (our children certainly enjoy participating in all of those things), I don't believe that they were ever meant to become an arena in which parents lives constantly revolve around the potential success and admiration of their children by others, nor were they meant to replace the vital relationships that can only be built through children serving within the family.

"You have been created for the glory of God and for your own eternal salvation; 

this is your end, this is the object of your soul and the treasure of your heart." 

- St. Robert Bellermine

As Christians we believe that our ultimate goal in life, our ultimate end is heaven.  The road to heaven is paved with love, and we recognize this truth most clearly through the example of Christ, whose love was and is infinite and immeasurable, sacrificial and not self-seeking.

The beautiful thing about family life is that God, in his wisdom, has fashioned it to be, in itself, a culture that offers tremendous opportunities to obtain virtues such as compassion, charity, justice and prudence simply through the offering of oneself in the ordinary duties and responsibilities of caring for the home and for one another.

Of course, the challenge of embracing such opportunities is that not only does it require sacrifice on the part of the parents and children, but it also requires some bit of resiliency toward the influences of modern society - influences which promote finding life's purpose through an inward gaze rather than an outward one.

By today's standards, popularity and success, whether it be in sports or music or academics, is held in much higher esteem than being virtuous, and therefore the popularity and recognition is what most kids (and adults) strive for every day.  Daily persistence in such goals naturally tend toward the fostering of a self-centered focus, rather than an other-centered focus.

The weight of society's influence doesn't just affect teens, it affects all of us to some degree.  Social media contains strong evidence that we live in a culture that seeks affirmation and approval for everything and places an unreasonably high value upon that affirmation. Nothing we do and no part of who we are should go unnoticed, unrecognized, or heaven forbid "unliked."

So what does that mean for a teenager growing up in a family where some of their time and energy, by necessity, must be offered for the care of the home and for the little ones who reside there? I can't imagine any teen Snapchatting photos of themselves changing a diaper, or cheerfully picking up toys without being asked. What glory is there in reading a picture book for the thousandth time to a fussy toddler, or delivering a cup of water to a thirsty sibling.  Who among their friends would possibly ever admire such a grand lifestyle?

Ask my sons - there is no glory, no admiration, no public affirmation for such contributions.  And yet, the works of mercy that they participate in every day, the great acts of love and charity that they are asked to offer at present, are the very things that root out selfishness and anchor in their place the everlasting Christ-like virtues that will serve them far beyond any self-absorbed lifestyle which offers only temporary and fleeting comforts and a false sense of satisfaction.

Though such acts of sacrificial familial love often remain hidden, their greatness is not diminished by a lack of recognition or admiration.

In fact, it is the hidden nature of generosity within family life is actually what makes it so beautiful, so transforming.  When we are called to serve, and respond in obedience to that call, our prideful nature (the part of us that desires to be recognized) is less likely to get in the way, making room for humility to blossom.

How can serving others and pride possibly be spoken about in the same sentence? Let me explain...

I find that it is easy to be generous and giving of my time and attention to others when it is convenient, or when I think that it might demonstrate to others that  I really am a caring and generous person, who loves others and longs to be helpful. How about a soup kitchen selfie, y'all? (I can see my grandparents rolling their eyes as I type.)

Darn that desire to be validated and appreciated.  It's a tough one, isn't it? 

As a mom, if I myself am not immune to the temptation toward recognition, it's important that I do not underestimate the possibility that this "doing good when it feels good to do good" might also be a challenge for my teens.

Our two oldest sons will be going on a mission trip to New Mexico in a couple of weeks.  And, while I believe whole-heartily that their journey will be blessed in ways that I cannot even begin to comprehend, I can only pray that their service will be rooted in true humility and not pride.

My oldest children most likely cannot yet comprehend the value in the opportunities that their upbringing offers them to become virtuous.  In fact, they may not even agree with or like those servant oriented opportunities (what teen would?). But, as their parents, it is up to Steve and I to place a higher trust in the Lord's plan for each and every person in our family, and to trust it far above our own plans for them - especially when our personal desires for our children can be so easily influenced by a culture whose loud and pertinent voice often drowns out the whisper of reason within us.

Today Benedict will have completed his freshman year of high school.  Many of my friends, who have raised teens, have told me how quickly time flies once our children reach the teen years.  Sadly, I recognize real truth in their sentiments, as it feels as though I will blink and tomorrow Ben will be gone.

I remember when he was born, how I thought I was ready for motherhood and everything that becoming a mother would mean.  I thought I was generous, but I wasn't.  I though I knew what it meant to sacrifice for another, but I didn't. My children and my husband have stretched me, grace has stretched me toward generosity, charity and greater depths of love.

Flannery O'Connor put it well when she said,

"All human nature vigorously resists grace because grace changes us and the change is painful."  

Change is painful.  But, what if we could raise our children to live their lives in such a way that when they reach their vocation, be it married life, religious life, or mission life, that there be less of a need for interior change, and therefore less pain?

I believe that family life, in it's very sacrificial nature, offers children just that - a wonderful opportunity to gain the virtues that will guide them to live the vocation they are called to with greater freedom and with fewer interior struggles.

The pain of change doesn't just reside in the hardships and struggles that are thrown our way, but rather it emanates from the very process of detachment from our selfish ways, habits, desires and attitudes.

I know this because I have lived it - I continue to live it! Detachment hurts! But, it is necessary for us to become less of ourselves and more like Christ if we are to walk the hard road of love toward heaven.

I didn't realize when Steve and I were first married, and when we began a family, just how many amputations the Lord would have to perform on my infected soul, but He did so, and continues to do so, out of love for me.

He will do the same for our children.

It is my great hope that our sons, who are called today to sacrificially serve one another within our family, will experience a lesser degree of frustration and pain when it comes to interior conversion, because they will have already experienced and embraced the fruits of virtue borne of the sacrifices they have offered to love and care for their family while at home.

If you are interested, these are the highlights of the response I gave to my friend via e-mail...

Is it selfish for me to expect our sons to give up their "personal time and freedom" to help care for a younger sibling or to do chores?
First and foremost, if the Lord is calling Steve and I to have more children, we must trust Him above any confidence we have in ourselves, to provide what is necessary for all of us to thrive and to find joy within the life that He wills for us. It would be more selfish for us to deny our teens the opportunity to make personal sacrifices for their siblings than to offer them every earthly opportunity and comfort, because the long term benefits of doing so by far outweigh the temporary comforts of a duty-free lifestyle. Parents today are masters at serving our children, but are we teaching our children to serve?

Are Steve and I being selfish by welcoming another baby into our hearts and home, because it compromises the time and attention we can give our oldest children?

I think it would be selfish for us to deny our sons the opportunity to mature in independence and confidence by cradling them in a false net of continuous comfort, individual time and attention, only to throw them out into the real world where their professors, employers, friends and spouses will not support the overly attentive self-focused affirmative lifestyle they've been conditioned to feel that they deserve. 

Finally, while I whole-heartily agree that opportunities for our children outside of the home, whether they be academically, athletically, musically, or in other avenues of interest are fantastic ways in which our children can grow and mature in self-knowledge and virtue, they are not the be-all, end-all of their purpose and existence. And, as much as we wish this were true, those experiences will never trump the everlasting rewards that those opportunities, which require our children to sacrifice for the greater good of another, may obtain for us when it comes to reaching our heavenly reward.

A Peek at My 28 Week Baby Belly & Why Being the Mother of Boys Has Made Me a Better Woman

Here it is, my 28 week preggo belly pic.  I know.  What belly, right? Oh, it's there, trust me, it's there. Even though Charlie is using his sibling for lumbar support, you can still see a bit o' the bump peeking out from behind the line up. I get points for that, right?

{Our 20 month Joseph displaying his rare, yet hilarious gift for eye-rolling.}

Oh, my boys.

And, could it be that there's one more little man curled up beneath my heart? We shall have to wait and see!

I love surprises. What's not surprising, though, is how many times per week someone stops me in a parking lot or grocery line, points to my middle, and asks if we're having another boy.  Even more common is the question, "Were you trying for a girl?" Or the comment, "Oh, you poor thing, you're terribly outnumbered."

My first thought is always, trying for a girl? Please, if you know one woman in this world who has tried SEVEN times to get a mini-me, I want to meet her, because I don't believe she exists.  

My second thought is always, If I could only tell you how mothering boys has made me a better woman in so many ways.

How is that, you say?

Well, let me begin by listing just a few personal improvements that have resulted from being immersed in a testosterone-filled dwelling all day:

1.  I am finally figuring out how to let sh** go.  

Sorry if that's a bit abrupt, but there's just no other way to put it, really. You know we ladies like to agonize over the teeniest tiniest little things.  We let issues of little objective importance bother us way. too. much.  We can learn a few lessons from the boys in this department of life. Boys get hurt, or angry or frustrated too, but then they get on their bikes and ride like the Tazmanian Devil around the block, they ram their Tonka trucks into into piles of building blocks a thousand times, they jump off the couch and over aunt Ethel's antique vase until they're sweaty and dizzy with confidence again, and then they go refuel with a snack and move on with the day, forgetting what even tripped their trigger in the first place.  I love that about them. And I love that their ability to stay focused on what matters is rubbing off on me, too.

2.  I am learning to forgive and forget. 

Boys are quick to forgive.  Yeah, they might have to duke things out in the alley for a bit, but those same flying fists soon become high fives and hand shakes. We're not like that, ladies.  We cry and then we cry some more, and we expect everyone in our camp to cry with us. On top of that, we remember every little last flippin detail about how we were wounded in the second grade by so and so on the playground, and we carry all that crap around with us all day every day. No wonder most of us are vertically challenged.  Wanna know how it feels to just get over stuff? Good, dang good.

3. I am giving up the phrase "nothing's wrong."

Because, most of the time, you and I both know that that's a load of crap.  Have you ever noticed how boys don't beat around the bush (unless they're in trouble, of course)?  They tell it like it is.  I'll admit that sometimes their communication lacks tact and charity, but their honesty is far better than that old passive aggressive response of nothing is wrong when the truth is, something really is wrong.  Boy have I found some serious freedom in just speaking my mind and heart with those I'm closest to - even at the risk of rejection or misunderstanding. Thank ya, boys.

I could go on, but it's Friday and you have laundry to ignore and wine to drink (I hope).  

Anyway...

I don't really begrudge the reactive sentiments of others toward our boy-dominant family. Part of me understands that their sympathies and well wishes for a girl are of good intention. The other part of me also realizes that our culture places a high value upon the optimal family, and that that ideal is often expressed in a one girl, one boy household.

So, being the mother of six, potentially seven boys, is likely to generate a variety of reactions, few of which, unfortunately, are of the affirming kind. (But I'm okay with that.  See #1 above.)

Yes, I am outnumbered.  But, as children are not meant to be trophies that we as women display on our shelf of "hear me roar" accomplishments, I do not feel it necessary to seek satisfaction or admiration in producing a particular sex (as if I have anything to do with that). Babies are not to be likened with pets that exist for our personal fulfillment or comfort.

Babies are a gift.

The purpose of their existence does not lie in satisfying a parent's personal ambitions or dreams. To even pursue the ambition of parenthood, all the while seeking an "optimal outcome" - whether that be two girls and two boys, or one boy and one girl, is in itself selfish in nature, because children are not given to us for us, they are given to us so that we might receive them in love, raise them in love, and prepare them in love to give love back to the world, and ultimately to the Lord.

I've experienced moments when I've thought, or even felt that it would would be absolutely lovely to have a girl in our family, for many reasons, one of which would be to have someone similar to relate to in feminine nature. But, it would be terribly short sided of me to focus on what isn't instead of focusing on what is.  That would imply that something (or someone) is lacking in our family, and that simply isn't true.

In fact, I cannot quite express in adequate terms how delightfully wonderful it has been to be surprised by the unexpected gifts that mothering boys has brought into my life (yes, even in spite of the awful teenage smells, devastation to the walls and furniture, and inability to use the flusher mechanism on the toilet).

Being surrounded by little (and big) men has not left me feeling isolated, inferior or alone.  On the contrary, the experience has made me ever more aware of my unique feminine gifts and as a result, has shaped me into better woman than I was before having children. Better because I have come to see the vital importance of authentically living my feminine qualities, and I hope that in doing so I might foster in them some of my own God-given strengths and virtues, while at the same time, allowing myself to be influenced by theirs.

I love to back over the past 15 years and see just how remarkably fruitful familial relationships can truly become when family members are encouraged to express and live the gifts of their very nature, though they be different, in a complimentary fashion.

It is a beautiful thing to witness my children develop in character, virtue and maturity, thanks in part to my feminine influences.  Those influences are exercised without diminishing, belittling, or reducing who my sons are in their masculine nature.  Their healthy, God-given masculine gifts are encouraged and affirmed, and those virtues that are weak or lacking in them are nurtured and encouraged by me, because they are natural to me.  One does not the place of the other, it's both-and.

Some of our juniors climb trees, shoot guns, are fiercely competitive, wrestle and duke to express love, and others prefer less of those things and a more thoughtful, reserved pace of life.  No matter what their passions or personalities, the boys all have common masculine strengths and traits that are very important for me to recognize, honor, and nurture in them in the most positive manner.  They can be themselves, and feel proud of their masculine identity, because I affirm those masculine traits in them through my words and actions. They in turn (hopefully) are open to recognizing who I am as a woman - different, but not competitive, a compliment to who they are, not a counterpoint.

Sure, my boys like for me to shoot a gun too, to jump on the trampoline, and contribute to conversation about tractors and pickups.  But they don't need me to be one of the boys.  

They need me to be me.

Gentle, yet firm.  Empathetic yet encouraging.  Clean, pretty (every boy thinks his mama is pretty), soft, and smellin' good, yet willing to roll up my sleeves and get dirty when it's time to get a job done.

The wonderful thing about males and females living up to their complimentary roles in the world is that it can be surprisingly harmonious, joyful, and fruitful (yes, despite our sinful natures).  This is all despite the heavy negative emphasis our culture insists on placing upon our differences.  (More good reading on that right here.)

Yes, we are different, not for the sake of comparison, but for the sake of complimentarity.  It's only when one gender refuses to authentically honor the God-given strengths specific to their nature in this complimentary fashion, preferring instead to demean or diminish the nature of the opposite sex, that tension between the two arises.

Several years ago, I attended a women's conference where Dr. Rhonda Chervin was the key-note speaker. She is a feminist to the core, but in the positive sense that she has a great passion to understand how God has created women with a very specific nature, and how He has given us particular strengths and particular gifts that are completely unique to our gender, all of which are meant to serve Him in tremendous ways in this world.

The great take-away for me from her teaching was that each person, male and female, possesses dominant strengths and virtues, and those virtues vary depending upon the individual, but are different according gender - and they differ for a reason.

God is the perfection of all virtue. He is the perfection of every masculine virtue, and every feminine virtue, without being effeminate.  God is father, Jesus is son. They are men, and they are the perfection of all that is good - which is what we as Christians are striving for in the spiritual life.

I don't become less feminine when I begin to embody and develop the virtues of courage, loyalty, persistence, and ambition all of which are typically dominant virtues in the masculine nature.  Rather, I become a more complete, more authentic woman. The same is true for men and their acquisition of the more natural feminine virtues such compassion, thoughtfulness, tenderness, and the ability to nurture others.

Please know that I am certainly not trying to stereotype men and women.  We all have different degrees in which we embody and express our masculine and feminine traits.  I am simply trying to point out the differences as well as the similarities of masculinity and femininity in hopes that you will recognize them as compliment, not counteractive.

If you were to describe the most natural traits of women, you might use words like empathetic, social, relational, sensitive, cautious, prudent, kind, and generous to name a few.  And, if you were to describe the most natural traits of men, you might say that they are energetic, loyal, ambitious, courageous, protective, fearless, analytical, and focused.

To truly become holy - a whole person in Christ - we must understand that God, in His wisdom, will stretch us and mold us through circumstances and relationships so that we might live our most natural virtues to the fullest, but also so that we might acquire and exercise those virtues which are least familiar, less natural to us.

I always think of Mother Theresa when pondering this truth.  Can you imagine anyone to be more gentle, nurturing, loving, or empathetic than her? She was truly the deepest, dearest expression of the beauty and power that can emanate from of an authentically feminine woman through and through. And, yet, she had an incredible sense of courage, loyalty, perseverance, stead-fastness, focus and ambition, all of which tend to be more masculine traits and were virtues secondary to her nature.

As she became more Christlike, who she was as a woman of God did not diminish or repeal others - it attracted them! It inspired them! Her very presence helped others to desire to become more Christlike, more holy, more whole.

This is the very thing that my sons have done for me, but only because by grace I have chosen to nurture their dearest masculine qualities, and come to embrace the tremendous good in exemplifying those feminine virtues, which are secondary to them, that they so desperately need to acquire in order to become fully alive in Christ themselves.

They have shown me how to quickly forgive, fearlessly try new things, remain loyal in friendships (despite differences), and maintain a persistent focus on my goals.  In turn, I hope to have shown them how to be sincere, empathetic, how to care for the needs of the littlest persons in our home, and how to exercise prudence and caution in certain situations that call for it.

When we choose to live in a mindset of comparison and competition with the opposite sex, we risk losing our authentic selves in the process.  We can forget to be ourselves, because we're so hyper-focused on being as good as, or better than others.  

It's all simply a waste of time and energy.  

As parents we are naturally going to encounter comments and reactions between opposing sexes that are marked with disdain and discord. That is normal, isn't it?  We can't possibly love and understand everything about the opposite sex because we are so different in nature, and aspects of those natures will always remain a mystery to us.  

But, we can appreciate and respect what is different in each other, and we can honor the goodness in those differences (which is Christ!), by upholding the dignity of one another through word and action, and especially through living fully the gifts proper to our own unique nature, be it masculine or feminine, with enthusiasm, gratitude, and joy. 

It is truly an honor to know that God entrusts these fine boys to my care, and should He find it fitting to give us yet another son, the blessings will only be multiplied.

When Life Doesn't Look Like a Hallmark Movie - For the Hurting Heart This Holiday Season

Christmas day has come and gone, ornamented trees are coming down, lights and decorations put away, store shelves stocked with goods for the next holiday.

For many people, Christmas is over, for our family, it has just begun.

But maybe, for you, the one with the hurting heart, the one who is grieving a loss, the one who has lost their job, is suffering the pain of divorce, is aching from loneliness, maybe you're ready for Christmas to be over, too.

Because, sometimes when we're hurting, the holidays just make the hurt worse.

Why is that?

Is it because with the holidays comes a hopeful expectation for something better, something more in life? And when things don't get better, don't become more, we just become more deeply aware of all of the things that aren't right in our own lives?

It's supposed to be the "most wonderful time of the year." But it isn't, is it?

I know that feeling.

This is the third Christmas that I've watched my husband suffer from Lyme disease.  The third Christmas where my prayers for his healing have not yet been answered.  The third Christmas where I have shopped alone for gifts. The third Christmas where I have sat across from him at a beautifully set table covered in Christmas dishes, candles, and steaming plates prepared with love, and watched him struggle to be present to any of it.

I see his eyes drift in and out of conversation, one minute he notices the six beaming faces delight as they snarf down chocolate cake with peppermint ice cream.  The next minute he is far away, and I know it is my turn to bring the conversation to a happy place....until he can find us again.

And yet I'm keenly aware, at the dinner table and at all times, that my efforts must match his supreme efforts to really be with the family, heart and soul, when really all he wants to do is curl up in bed and try to forget how this awful disease has taken a hold of his body and turned it into something he can't stand to live within.

If you're still with me, if you, too, are one with a hurting heart this Christmas, I want to tell you one thing: Christmas is not over.

Maybe you want it to be.  I feel you.  That was me last year and the year before.  Frustrated, cynical. Tempted to leave the Merry out of Christmas.

But, something broke through all of that this year. 

That something, call it the Holy Spirit, the fruit of prayer, or mercy, pierced through my doubting mind and my hardened heart, and reminded me that Christmas is not made of sentiment.  

It is not a Hallmark movie, our favorite tunes and a cozy fire, the hoped-for gift tucked under the tree, or even a perfectly polished life placed upon that tree like an ornament for all of our family and friends to admire.

Don't get me wrong, those lovelies are all nice, but the truth is,

Christmas isn't any of those things.

Christmas is HIM, just HIM.

It's the truth that He came for you and for me. Whether we feel it or not.  And, if for a moment you think that He doesn't love you, or doesn't understand the weight of your burdens, or can't possibly feel just how raw and real your pain is, try to remember, and then hold on to the truth that...

He came into the world in utter poverty,

in filth, it piercing cold, and he had no home.

Within moments of his birth, already His very life was in danger.

For 30 years, no one knew Him.  

He hadn't wealth or fame, or accolades - 

And He. Was. GOD!

He wept over the loss of friends, was rejected, spat on,

falsely accused, assaulted with temptations.  He was hungry,

tired, angry, poor. And He, too, desired for things to be

different, but embraced the hardships anyway.

And He held on to that cross in total freedom, in perfect Love,

not only to redeem us, but to show us how to hold on too.

So what is it that we, you and I, are enduring that He cannot possibly understand, cannot possibly love us through?  Nothing.  Not one thing.

Fragile fingers sent to heal us, 

Tender brow prepared for thorns, 

Tiny heart whose blood will save us, 

Unto us is born, unto us is born.  

Yes.  That is Christmas.

And I'm slowly learning, through my husband's suffering, that God will never force us to receive Him. Not as the infant lying in the manger, nor the man crucified on the cross, nor the resurrected Savior. It is up to us, through grace-filled acts of faith, to love Him in return through our trust - trust in the very purpose that God has written within our lives - even within our hardships and sufferings.

More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.  (Romans 5:3-5)

As much as we long to be freed of our crosses, let's us not be afraid to embrace the reality that they can have a mighty transformative power, if we let them!

The lack of this or that in my life over these past three years has served to show me not what is missing from life, but what is truly present.  

(Photo credit, unknown)

  

Suffering has a way of adjusting our focus and our priorities.

Some days, when I feel as though an ounce more struggle will surely break me in two, there stands beside me two chubby bare feet, two little hands clinging to my legs, two little eyes gazing up at mine, and a giggle that is so utterly sweet, I can't think of anything better.  

Joseph is the butter on my daily bread. Without the pain he would not serve as such a healing balm to my heart. Before the pain, I would not have noticed him so completely, because I would not have needed him so deeply. 

Man, am I thankful for him, for all of our children, and for every good thing in my life that I am seeing with a fresh set of eyes - and loving with greater appreciation than I ever did before.

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. 

I do not give to you as the world gives. 

Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.  (John 14:27)

The heart that trusts is a heart that is able to experience joy, even in the midst of suffering.  Our smiles become not a mask of our pain, fears and frustration, but a sign of our confidence in the infant Jesus, in Emmanuel, God with us, in this truth: He has come for ALL OF US.

The Lord Himself goes before you and will be with you;

He will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid, do not be discouraged."

(Deuteronomy 31:8)

And He knows us - better than we know ourselves.  And he will never leave us. Not for a second. 

So, as the world around us tucks away the trappings of Christmas, let us not, you and me, say farewell to to the gift of this beautiful season.  Let us hold on to it today and in the days to come, trusting, hoping and clinging to its promises (He has come for US!), and let us hold on ever tighter in the moments when life hurts the most. 

Amen?

When Beauty Rises From the Rubble of Our Plans

I am truly honored and grateful to my dear friend, Jenny, who has kindly shared this post with her readers at her blog, Mama Needs Coffee.  Her writing is an inspiring font of both wisdom and humor, and I hope that you will visit her often.  You will not be disappointed!

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Of the many lessons motherhood has taught me over the past fifteen years, perhaps the most meaningful one is to be fully present to and embrace the little moments of each day.  Whoever said it's the little moments that make a big life spoke truth.

I pray it's a truth I can abide by, because every day I feel challenged to stay tuned in to the beauty of the life around me, especially when there are so many seemingly important distractions vying for my attention.

I was reminded of this "be fully present" truth in quite a profound way last summer. While standing at the kitchen table, upon which I was constructing freshly laundered towers of underwear and t-shirts, my task was happily interrupted when our three oldest sons burst through the front door, joyfully announcing their homecoming after being away for a week at their grandparents' farm.

In a split second, the house erupted with testosterone filled chatter.  Smiling, I made my way with arms wide open toward the sweet chaos. In that moment, the Holy Spirit took hold of my heart and fixed it firmly upon the reunion of the oldest boys with the younger ones.  The intensity of their joy was indescribable.  

Before I knew it, I was reaching out for my camera and managed to snap a few fuzzy pics (nothing works right when you're crying), hoping to capture the purity of the affection between the brothers as they delighted in being in one another's presence once again.

I've looked at these photos dozens of times since that day, with the hope of understanding, with greater clarity, exactly what it was about the reunion between our sons that gripped me so strongly.

Seeing them embrace was a transcendental moment, for sure. It was a glimpse of the eternal, and it made me feel as though nothing else in the world mattered but their love - a love whose origins are rooted in the love that my Husband and I share, a love that is fruitful only because He first loved us (1 John 4:19).

In my contemplation of the photos, the word "testimony" kept coming to mind.  I wasn't sure why, but I let it simmer inside of me for a few weeks, during which I asked the Lord over and over again, why of the thousands of photos I've taken of our children is this the one that has marked my memory for life?

And, I think, perhaps that this is why...

Because, there is a testimony in those photos.  

We live in a time where, now more than ever, people hunger and thirst for a testimony of love.  I'm not speaking of romantic love here, but the love that emanates from self-gift - the real, strangely indescribable, yet beautiful love that flows forth from surrender, from struggle, from the abandonment of one's life plans for the unplanned life - the kind of love that seeks an eternal home, and awaits the ultimate homecoming.  

As a mother, I've experienced such a love of surrender in countless tangible and profound ways, and I would like to share one testimony of that love with you... 

We are a nation of planners.  It's written in our DNA. As soon as we can talk, we are being asked questions that involve the making of plans. 

What do you want to do today? Where would you like to go? What do you want to be when you grow up?

And those simple questions evolve into more complex ones, ones that look to the future, hoping that future is as bright and promising as the detailed list of goals and adventures we've carefully written for ourselves.

We plan which schools our children should attend, which activities to devote our time to, which career path to take, which person to date, which house will make all of our Pinterest dreams come true.  

We plan for the life that will bring us the most comfort, satisfaction, happiness and fulfillment, a plan that avoids pain, and embraces comfort, shirks suffering and follows the path of least resistance.

Why do we do this? Because we're human.

And, in our humanity, it's easy to believe that we know what is best for us.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that planning is a bad thing, or trying to avoid a life full of disasters and disappointments is either.  On the contrary, planning and preparing are two very good and necessary things. 

But, sometimes it's a greater good and necessary thing to let go of the script, and allow Someone else to help write your story.

Two weeks after Steve and I were married, I was pulling weeds out of the landscaping that edged the house that we were renting, when suddenly I felt dizzy, almost nauseous.  

It's just the crazy Kansas heat I told myself.  No biggie.  

Actually, it kind of was a biggie. A super-sized biggie. 

Let's just say that that same evening I greeted my hard working farmer husband with a hot plate of roast beef and mashed potatoes served with a side of pregnancy test - the plus sign kind.

Well that was not my plan!  Actually, getting married fresh out of college really wasn't part of my life plan either, but this, this was like the Lord went from using a pick-axe to a wrecking ball on my carefully orchestrated ideals .  Hasta la vista, project "Susan's life!"

I may not have known what in the world the Lord was doing with me back then, but I did know that as He was slowly loosening my grip on all of the mission work, teaching career, and travel-the-world plans that I had made for myself, He was planting a desire in my heart for something different.

What I found in that fresh desire, by way of providential circumstances and opportunities, was a great sense of freedom to open my eyes to the possibilities of a new path.  A freedom to let go of everything I thought I wanted, and the courage to hold on tightly to everything He wanted for me.

As a lover of the philosophies of John Paul II, I had deeply and earnestly embraced his words, Be not afraid, and Man cannot fully find himself except through sincere gift of himself. But, now those words were taking on new meaning, and living them in the form of motherhood was quite different than writing them down in my tidy little book of favorite quotes.

Don't get me wrong, despite the state of shock I was in over being pregnant, I was also terribly excited. Steve and I both approached the altar fully and completely open to life, and even shared a great hope of having a large family one day. I just thought we might do something crazy before having babies, like actually go on our honeymoon (yeah, there's a reason why farmers don't get married in the summer)!

I look back, with great fondness, upon those early days of marriage and motherhood, especially the ones where we were living from pay-check to pay-check, with two boys under the age of two, in an apartment complex full of exactly zero couples our age who also had children.  

We were definitely the odd-balls on the block. The other twenty-somethings all had jobs and dogs, and looked at us as if we were some unfortunate Catholic couple who was drowning in the NFP Kool-Aid.  

But, you all know that things are rarely what they seem. 

I'm telling you, we had nothing, and yet we had everything.  

There were no cell phones, or new cars, no casual dinners out, no gym memberships, no Saturday morning lattes sipped while shopping, no travel plans.  Instead, there was a lot of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and garage sales, and bike rides, and great anticipation of daddy coming home from work because, without texting, life is full of surprises!

But, best of all, there were babies.  And, despite the fact that we were in the red nearly every single month for two years, those babies NEVER ONCE made me feel like I was missing out on something better.  I didn't know it then, but I see very clearly now, that they were the very best gift I could ever have received.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and rely not upon your own understanding.

In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make straight your paths.

Proverbs 3:5

Why am I telling you all this?  Because I have a hunch that maybe there's a few of you out there who aren't quite sure if a baby or another baby is really going to fit into your plan of life.

I also have a hunch, ladies, that maybe you just need to hear someone say, I believe in you. You can do this. Don't worry about what others expect of you, what they might think of you or say about you if you welcome another child into this world.

I've been there, too - afraid, unsure, lonely, misunderstood.  I've heard the criticisms and condescension, and I'm here to tell you that every little tiny ounce of fear, every unkind word was worth enduring for these little ones!

If you are afraid of welcoming a child or another child into the world, for fear of it being too difficult, please hear me when I say that babies are not the difficult thing.  

It is the letting go of the plans we have for ourselves and the things that we think will make us happy, trusting firmly that the Father's grace is sufficient for us - that is the difficult thing.  

If we go back to Catechism 101, we learn that our goal as Christians is to know God, to love God, and to serve God so that we may be happy with him in this life and in the next.  It doesn't say anything about serving ourselves.  To serve God is not always the easy path to take, but it is the one that will truly bring about an authentic happiness, which is joy.

I put my self-serving plans before the Lord, and most of them did not match up with His plans for me.  In His will I have found great joy. Thank God. Literally.

But, the truly beautiful fruit of trust is knowing that, within the wreckage of our plans, the rubble-remains of who we were and what we thought we wanted, we will find it is the very place where Lord does His very best work.  He wants to, and he CAN, build the most beautiful life for us, if we let Him.

We have welcomed six sons through financial strain, illness, career changes, multiple moves, losses of friendships and loved ones, as well as countless adversities that I'm sure cannot even begin to compare with the sufferings so many others have endured.

And, yet, I'll say it again: there wasn't ever one moment when we felt that the burdens of life, the tears, and the anxiety would be lessened if only we had fewer children.  In fact the opposite is true. 

Children are a beacon of light in the darkness, an anchor of joy in the storm, a pure witness to all that is true and good and beautiful in this world - the very reminder we need believe that those things still exist, to give us reason to hope in God's plans for us all. 

I witness this reality day after day as our children are the greatest comfort to my husband who is fighting through a very tough battle with Lyme disease.  He has told me over and over what a gift our boys are, and what a great consolation they are to him.

At any point in time, I believe I could have tried to salvage what was left of MY life plans.  Have a little pride and save yourself, honey. Satan temps us, just as he tempted our Lord.  And, I'd be lying if I told you that I never once pondered a temporary means of escape from the heavy crosses life has asked me to carry, or thought about what my life would be like if I had chosen to turn away from God's plans for my life.

We're all free to choose how we want to live our lives, God will never take that freedom from us, because He loves us.  But, there's a greater freedom in choosing Him, in wanting to follow Him, and I suppose that's the catch.

When I look at those photos of my sons, I don't want to escape. I don't want a different life, a different story. I want to honor this testimony, to live most fully in and present to the little moments, and let God continue to do the planning - come what may.

For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord.

Plans for welfare and not for harm, to give you a future full of hope.

Jeremiah 29:11

Adoration Under the Stars ~ Bowing Here I Find My Rest

Do you ever find that when you're very, very tired, that kind of tired that cuts deep into your bones, that it becomes incredibly tempting to imagine an easier life?  To daydream of vacations and other grand comforts, to look at the lives of others through those rose-colored glasses seeing an illusion of life that is carefree and easy?

I cannot deny that this has been my struggle for the past several months.  We're comfort seekers by nature, you and I, and I confess to being tops at diverting myself from discomforts and inconveniences with a hefty mouthful of gin and swearing. (Well, now you know.)

But, sometimes, even the comforts of this world are not enough to remedy the weariness that life can impart.

Not a day goes by that I don't think to myself, if I could just catch a little break.....and soon my mind gets lost chasing all the ways I might obtain that very thing that I think will renew my sanity and spirits. (Cyber mind readers, if you guessed beaches, you're right on!)`

Yesterday morning I woke up to those same heavy feelings, the weight of fatigue pinning my flesh to the mattress with all it's might.  Despite my ferocious appetite for five more minutes, I managed to pull my feet to the floor, make the coffee, and gather up some fortitude before the boys came charging in for breakfast.

I want to say that the fatigue is not the result of feeling burdened by my children or responsibilities that come with motherhood. Quite the contrary.  Our children are my joy.  But, the unique situation of our current state of affairs has required more of me physically and emotionally than ever before, and, to put things in running terms, I've hit the wall.

Quickly scanning the messages in my inbox while the hungry troops whittled the steaming stack of pancakes down to crumbs, I saw this reminder: "Adoration Under the Stars" Wednesday July 1, 2015, 8:45 p.m. 

I set my coffee down beside my laptop, with multiple screens open to "Top Family Vacation Spots," and walked out of the kitchen for a moment.

Exhale.  Yes.  This, I need.  I need very much. Lord, please make it possible for us to go tonight.

And, He did!

{Photo Credit}

Last night our little country parish hosted the most beautiful Eucharistic Adoration service I had ever been to.  Lining the narrow, rural road leading to the church were rows and endless rows of cars.  I could not believe how many people had chosen to be in this place, on this night to praise and worship our Lord.  Seeing the crowd of adorers gathered together in the cemetery behind the church brought me to tears.  

Lord, I come, I confess

Bowing here I find my rest

Without You I fall apart

You're the One that guides my heart

{Photo Credit}

Father Aaron graciously welcomed everyone, inviting us to pray, to praise, to listen, to adore, and to confess, as there were NINE priests waiting to for us to lay our burdens down and to receive the grace and freedom of absolution.  Oh, how dearly I love our Catholic faith, and our beloved priests!

Lord I need you, oh, I need You

Every hour hour I need You

My one defense, my righteousness

Oh God, how I need you

On that perfectly still evening, with the moon shining bright, I curled up beside the boys on the grass and for the first time in months I felt at peace.  I just needed to be reminded, as I looked upon the crucified Christ, his arms outstretched for me, that only in Him can I truly find the comfort my soul has been longing for for so long.

Whenever we get tired — in our work, in our studies, in our apostolic endeavours — when our horizon is darkened by lowering clouds, then let us turn our eyes to Jesus, to Jesus who is so good, and who also gets tired; to Jesus who is hungry and suffers thirst. Lord, how well you make yourself understood! How lovable you are! You show us that you are just like us, in everything but sin, so that we can feel utterly sure that, together with you, we can conquer all our evil inclinations, all our faults. For neither weariness nor hunger matter, nor thirst, nor tears... since Christ also grew weary, knew hunger, was thirsty, and wept. What is important is that we struggle to fulfill the will of our heavenly Father, battling away good-heartedly, for Our Lord is always at our side (cf. Jn 4:34). 
- St. Josemaria Escriva, Friends of God, 201

Fifty Shades of Grey - Leave it in the Ashes

For the past couple of months, every single time I've opened up my laptop to jump on the internet to grab a recipe or respond to an e-mail, I've been bombarded with the world's apparent obsession with 50 Shades of Grey. Tidbits about the movie, the books, blog posts and news articles about the movie and the books, the soundtrack, the actors are everywhere. And, somehow it's all so very news-worthy (which astounds me, given the current international political climate).

I understand that when over 100 million copies of a book is sold, it's going to garner some serious attention.  What I don't understand is why this book?

I haven't read the Fifty Shades trilogy, nor do I plan to.  And Hollywood would have to cut my arm off before I'd hand over the money for a movie ticket. That being said, I have spent some time skimming through multiple news articles and blog posts, all offering perspectives from both sides of the fence, because I want to be able to dialog with other women about the books, should the opportunity arise.

Nearly every article I've covered so far has been an evaluation of the books or movie, pointing out the grave matter in each, and why they story is a terrible offense against women, a false representation of love in any form and an serious evil that should be avoided. This is all very well and good, and I support every effort out there that attempts to persuade folks to donate their books to the dumpster or to think twice about seeing the movie.

But, honestly, I think that if we're really going to reach the masses who have already been sucked into the lie that 50 Shades is in any way a worthwhile read, we have to go so much deeper than a pure dissection of the story's parts and all of the things that are morally wrong within it.

The quote above, which originally came from author Arsene Houssene, are indicative of our culture's reaction to the Fifty Shades phenomenon.  100 million copies sold of any publication isn't a number reflecting pure curiosity or an avid reader's desire to expand his or her repertoire. 100 million copies of pornographic erotica successfully marketed primarily to women gives positive probability that there is indeed a God-shaped hole in all of us, a hole that, if not filled with Christ, can be filled with anything except Christ.

...Jesus, wearied as He was with his journey, sat down beside the well.  There came a woman of Samaria to draw water.  Jesus said to her, "Give me a drink."  The Samaritan woman said to him, "how is it that you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?" Jesus answered her, If you knew the gift of God and who it is that is saying to you, 'Give me a drink,' you would have asked him and he would have given you the living water." - John 4: 6-10

We are all, in some way, the woman at the well.  A woman who thirsts, but is often times content with quenching her thirst with the water that the world has to offer.  Sometimes we are so thirsty that we can be convinced that even the unclean water is that which will satisfy us. 

What is it that we thirst for? Happiness? Peace? To love and to be loved?

Maybe we simply thirst for a life different from our own.  For many of us, the life we live now is not the life we planned for ourselves.  Who, at the altar, expects to encounter such crosses as loneliness, abuse, the loss of a child, neglect, infidelity, illness or financial struggles along the marital road? Not one of us.  Or, for the single person, who had hoped by now to be wed but is not, the struggle is very real. Yet, when these burdensome hardships arise, if we do not have Christ in our lives to anchor us deep in virtue, it is easy to be swept away by the lesser goods that the world has to offer.

Being swept away by the temptation into any kind of diversion from the pain of our current situation can be so very powerful, because any comfort-seeking measure temporarily helps us to forget how much life hurts. And, forgetting feels good.  Whatever diversion we choose, whether it be the 50 Shades kind or something else, the end is always the same - it all leaves us thirsting for more.

As my heart felt pressed to reach out to the 50 Shades readers, the scripture from the gospel of John regarding the woman at the well unfolded in a new way for me.  I thought I knew the story so well, but as I dug deeper, I began to see Jesus in a way I had never seen Him before.  I saw a Jesus who came seeking not water, but a woman who was lost, a woman who thirsted, a woman whose heart's longings were deeper than the depths of the well.

We learn from the scriptures that Jesus traveled out of His way to Samaria.  He placed himself in a potentially scandalous situation in order to meet and to speak to the woman at the well. He was a Jew, and he was a man.  Jews did not mingle with Samarians.  Men did not gather at the well.  The well was a place for women to congregate, to socialize, to gossip. Even His disciples pressed Him with the question, "Why are you talking to her?" 

In His perfect wisdom, His perfect love for the woman, Jesus did not tell the her why having multiple husbands was wrong, he did not go into a theological or moral pontification over the gravity of her sinful pursuits.  He simply expressed to her that HE, the living water, is the only thing that can ever, that will ever quench her thirsts.

How beautiful this is.  

He came for her.  

He sought her out.  

He offered himself unreservedly to her.

In His humanity, Jesus could speak to the woman from a place of deep understanding.  He, too, had been tempted.  He, too, had known (and would know) great suffering. He did not withhold from her the firmness of truth: she was living a life of sin.  But, His visit with her was not simply reduced to a lengthy lecture over her indiscretions.  We know that she was deeply touched by His mercy, His understanding and His promise of a real, authentic, fulfilling love, because she ran into the city to share her story with others.

Could it be that Jesus knew that the woman at the well was already very aware that her life of sin was wrong, but what she didn't know, or rather, what she didn't trust was that the Lord could fulfill the longings in her heart more than anyone or anything else? 

Are we, the Christian women of today, perhaps walking in her very same shoes? When the disordered content of books like 50 Shades of Grey is not enough to shock us, to offend us (aside from the disturbingly graphic sexual content of the story, the psychotic character, Christian Grey actually uses a wooden cross as an instrument of torture on his victims) I have to wonder if the strong temptation to read on is more a matter of trust.  

Simply accepting the fact that reading the book is wrong isn't enough motivation to put it down. The reader, or any of us for that matter, must also trust that Christ knows our every thirst, our every longing, our every pain, and that He will go out of his way to meet us where we are and to love us through our pain, just as He did for the woman at the well.

It is not enough for someone to say to the anorexic, EAT! Your body needs nourishment, you could die if you don't eat.  It is not enough to say to the alcoholic, stop drinking! Can you not see how destructive your behavior is when you drink.  This is true for every single one of our sins for every single sinful temptation that we struggle with. Acknowledging the temptation and the sin is just the beginning (just as Jesus told the woman of her sin), but it is not the end.  The end comes when we open ourselves to the One True Lover of our Souls, Jesus Christ, and allow ourselves to receive Him, the healing water, the only water that will quench our thirst.

Tomorrow, Ash Wednesday, we begin the season of Lent.  This is the time of year when we are invited to step back and examine our lives and ourselves in relation to Christ.  For those of us who are Catholic, we receive the ashes upon our forehead, reminding us or our mortality, Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return. 

The ashes also represent everything on this earth that has no eternal value, the things that we cling to, the things that we believe satisfy us, but truly leave us thirsting for something more. 

This Lent, may we find the courage to let go of those very things that separate us from the love of Christ.  May we find also the strength to leave them in the ashes, so that our hearts might be open to receive Him, the living water, who has come for us, who will continue to go out of His way in pursuit of us, so that in His love we might find the deepest satisfaction of our every longing in Him alone.

He Wll Finds Us In the Mess and Make Our Mess His Home

These guys....

They are my charmers.  My little ones.  The people who use perpetual giggling and spit up to help me forget that I'm also mom to one who will be in high school (I'm choking over those words) in eight short months.  I remember when Benedict and Andrew were this age. I had so much time to just sit on the floor and play with them, to watch them grown and learn and live right in front of me.  Those were such glorious days.

I feel a great longing in my heart to be able to give these guys the very same time and attention.

I could write a thousand captions for these photos. They fill my heart with such great joy.  Baby bro on the left keeping upright thanks to the skillful placement of one chubby finger on the carpet and a steady right hand on big bro's back.

 The jammie huddle.  Let's put our heads together, and think up a genius plan to overwhelm mother with our adorableness today!

Uh, oh, Chubs McCrackers is lookin' a lil' wobbly. Joey earned the nickname when the boys, who often snack while holding him, discovered that his little belly shelf catches their cracker crumbs.

 Easy does it, Chubs. Steady now, steaeaeaeaea-dee.

Next to Lego mini figures and BBQ tater chips, pajamas are Charlie's world.  I think there was once a movie called Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. Well, Charlie is going to start the Brotherhood of the Traveling Jammies. I can see it now:  One pair of fleece footie pajamas, six boys and a bag of chips.

The older boys might not be up for it, but Chubs McCrackers will be in fo sho!

Today after lunch I gave myself permission to read a few of my favorite blogs while the boys finished their quiet reading.  Two of my favorites from Kathryn and Stephanie included sentiments about slowing down, simplifying and stepping back a bit from life, all of which resonated deeply with me.  

To my own personal disappointment, I have found the opportunities to blog (thoughtfully), to spend quality time with friends, run in weekend races, or to do something as simple as geting a hair cut to be very few and far between since Joseph's birth.  He is still in "I can survive on virtually zero sleep" mode and will not be comforted by a pacifier or anyone's arms but mine.

I really cannot seem to find my footing these past few months.  Since Steve's health has been a great concern to both of us and has required significant adjustments for me personally, caring for him as well as the majority of the children's needs is a calling that, most days, leaves me feeling inadequate as I wrestle constantly with everything that's not getting done. 

That's a pretty uncomfortable place for me to be.
But, isn't it true that discomfort is also a merciful gift from God?
I believe so....I really do.

Thankfully, this Advent, despite the desperation I so often feel internally, grace has come.  It comes as a steady stream of arrows piercing holes in all my best arguments for how I think things should be, how they should go according to my plans, desires and even according to my capabilities.

Grace has helped me accept all of the things that I cannot control and given me the fortitude to settle in to the present moment, trusting in all that God desires to give me right then and there. You guys, this is so hard for me, I mean if only you could see how messy life is around here right now!

Although my nature desires to tidy the home, create more exciting school projects for the boys, bake holiday treats for the neighbors or even to read something more stimulating than  Dick and Jane, those aspirations are just not possible right now.  God is using my limitations so that I may SEE his generosity - generosity expressed through the excitement in the eyes of a child who is thrilled to share an idea or a story with me, or a hug from a son that I hold for an extra second just so his post-basketball practice scent of hard work might imprint upon my memory forever, or the supreme view of two little guys playing together on the floor in their pj's.

Surely I would have missed these things, or at least not appreciated them to the depth that I should, had I been allowed the opportunity to carry on about the day's business according to my own desires for a well groomed family nested inside of a perfectly ordered home with time dedicated to blog about it all.

Above all, this Advent, I am learning to truly grasp the truth that what the Lord seeks from us is our very best in all circumstances.  If this season of your life allows you time to bake and decorate and craft then, for the love of Jesus, you should do just that.  And, if this season of life means that you must offer up the mess, another infant feeding, another sleepless night, another burned dinner, another denial of any self-comfort or opportunity to do what you want so that others may be blessed by your sacrifices then, for the love of Jesus, you should do just that.

{Source}

For many years I have loved the Chris Rice song Make Yourself at Home.  It is the perfect meditation for me this Advent.

Hope that you don't mind our manger

How I wish we would have known

But long-awaited Holy Stranger

Make Yourself at home

Please make Yourself at home

The the Lord's manger is our soul.  It is the place He longs to rest, to reside within us every day.  I am learning, day by day, that the soul's most supreme furnishings and decorations are not our own ambitions and accomplishments but the words "Yes, Lord" that we speak, the ascents of the will, great and small, moment-to-moment each and every day to whatever God may be asking of us.

So wrap our injured flesh around YOu

Breathe our air and walk our sod

Rob our sin and make us holy

Perfect Son of God

Perfect Son of God

Welcome to our world