Dear Sons and Daughters

Just because it's funny...

2016-06-14T21:16:00.000-07:00

As with previous posts, the intention for writing was to impart a lesson or to share some knowledge I wanted you all to know. However, this post is an exception. You may or may not find a lesson here. I share this experience for two reasons. First, it makes me laugh that it happened...and secondly, I still can't believe it actually happened...but it did.

I had forgotten about this hilarity until recently. I was thinking about funny stories I could share with a friend to cheer her up and provide a few laughs. Suddenly, this comedy came flooding from the recesses of my crowded memory bank.

It was roughly fifteen years ago and we were living in Houston. I had 6 kids at the time. Rianna was the youngest and finally enrolled in the Mother's Day out program. It was surely a Tuesday or a Thursday, yet the day of week matters very little. What matters is that I treasured these days like gold because it meant a free moment to myself in a completely quiet house after dropping kids off in the morning. Some days I would clean or run errands, yet some days I would catch up on a some much needed rest.

On this particular day, I woke up craving more sleep and knew I'd race home to a quiet, comfy, unmade bed. I'm not certain if I even owned a cell phone yet but I took the reciever off the hook just to make sure there were no interruptions to my solitude and slumber.

I had just gotten cozy and began to relax when I heard a light rap at the door. Convinced it was a door to door magazine salesmen or a Johovas witness, I stayed locked in the covers. The knocking became louder and more persistent. I was annoyed but figured they'd give up when I didn't answer the door. Suddenly I heard the door open and a mans voice..."hello, HELLO!"

Shocked and scared, I froze. Who in the heck is breaking into my house when I'm trying to sleep?? Never mind the door was unlocked. I was more perturbed this burglar was disrupting my time alone. I decided I better peek around the corner and see who was in the house. Luckily there was a bat handy, as you all know you can find sports equipment laying around the house at all times.

As I peeked around the corner with bat in hand, I noticed the cul desac filled with police cars...I think it was the SWAT team. A police officer had his gun aimed straight at me. I still wasn't registering the scene although the house was crawling with police officers, darting here and there...guns fully drawn. I thought I may be dreaming except I knew I hadn't even had a chance to fall asleep.

I said..."uuummm, what are you doing?"
The police man still pointing his pistol at me said, " WHO are YOU?!"
I said..."ummmm, I live here." Obviously this was a mistake.
He said, "Do you have you an ID ma'am??"
That's when I started to panic. My ID was still a Missouri license because I had not yet visited the DMV to get a new one. My address still had our previous address.

I produced the ID anyway and told my pathetic moving story praying he wouldn't cuff me right then and there. As he looked everything over including the house with a fine tooth comb, he explained they received a 911 call from our address. When they tried to call back, it was busy and they had to check out the premises for suspicious activity, robbery, possible kidnapping etc. My question to this day is "how on earth did I dial 911and not know it??"

I believe it was the mystical force in my life that does not want to see me take a nap...ever! And you can be sure I didn't fall back to sleep after the last cop car pulled away. I think I went straight to the DMV and renewed my license!

Keeping your eye on the ball...a wedding story

2013-04-15T07:45:00.002-07:00

Now that Melanies wedding is over, I have had a few days to digest all that transpired in the days leading up to and proceeding the major sacramental event of the year. There were so many curveballs thrown at the England family, I decided the most appropriate title for this post had to be what I learned in my early years playing softball. I never knew how much this phrase was going to mean, nor how handy it would come on a wedding day.

Interestingly, wedding day plans had been flowing quite smoothly. Despite starting a new businesss just 12 days before the wedding, I calmly thought I was managing my days and hours quite well. The business kick off was a success, even with 10 inches of unexpected snow in late March. One hurdle leaped.

The next 12 days would be "all wedding" and "all hands on deck." There was painting, carpet cleaning, alteration appointments, printing jobs and a myriad of other extras heaped upon daily chores, like laundry and making dinner. I was impressed that we were flying through our days with lists accomplished and everyone being fed. The older girls were instrumental in making it all happen on the homefront and I was feeling grateful to have extra hands and feet. We were progressing toward the wedding day in anxious anticipation, like world series champs.

That was until the planes started flying in. Though all planes landed safely, the out of town guests, including college children arriving home, signaled "game-time" at the England abode. The house quickly became a hive of buzzing activity and all incomplete last minute details were shoved into the recesses of my mind and incomplete lists were shoved into the unseen cavities of any available junk drawer.

We had a casual Wednesday night dinner with Jeff's family and all enjoyed sharing our time before the official festivities began. We feasted a delicious dinner and shared wonderful company as the night went joyfully smooth, despite the last minute plan. One thing the England clan can do well, is fly by the seat of our pants. And we were flying into our final hours before "show time."

Rehearsal dinner morning, I popped out of bed very early to the sound of the front door blasting open. Mitchell had gone out to his car to retrieve the bag he brought home from college with all of his clothes. In his excitement to see his siblings, he left his luggage and all belongings in the car overnight. I heard him ask Sean, his older brother, if he had thrown all of his things around in the trunk looking for something. With Sean half awake, he replied pleasantly, "I have no idea what you are talking about!" That is when we realized all unlocked vehicles, which were many, had been broken into late that night.

We immediately ran out to our cars and found the entire contents from consoles strewn around the front seats. It was an eery feeling to know that someone had been lurking around the house with all of us in it. I was sure the house had been lit up like a firecracker all night since no one, including me, is very good at turning out the lights when people start crashing out. The thief or thieves helped themselves to whatever goods they wanted and grabbed some very odd and unusual things. Mitchell had his bag stolen, but many of the contents were dumped back into the trunk. We discovered the thief had stolen his underwear, running shorts, his only pair of tennis shoes and his ipod. My car was unusually clean, except for religious items that weren't of interest to the bandits. All of the envelopes and letters in my console were ripped to shreds as they thought they might find some money. No luck there. Riley's car had been pillaged as well. Though nothing was taken in the car, I quickly noticed that Steve's rollerblades were gone. They had been perfectly placed in a line of rollerblades that decorate the patio when not in use.

We started the day with a visit from the Town and Country police. Notes were taken, pictures recorded and all procedural protocol was administered before 9:00 am. Riley took off with her list of errands and I had given her my debit card to complete the purchases. I stayed back and finished what needed to be done at home. Around noon, Riley arrived in tears. She had spent the last few hours running like a mad woman, only to get to the checkouts with a debit card that was declined again and again. She had gotten zero accomplished except discovering a mysteriously frozen debit card.

I called the bank and it seemed as though someone in Arizona was having a party with my bank account. The bank's fraud team luckily caught the problem just in the nick of time, spoiling Riley's productive run to purchase important last minute items. The "Schnucks IT breach" had struck the England debit cards twice in one week. We were down to one debit card in crunch time. No problem, at least I still had a checkbook.

We continued on without missing a beat. We were shaken but had our eye on the ball. We were all focused on the culmination of a year of planning. Even the program printing mishap, the week before and the drawing of my dear St. Joseph with six fingers had been reprinted and ready to be placed at the tables. We were on our game.

The rehearsal dinner was a beautiful celebration in a cozy room and the italian food and loving company was superb. Many beautiful heartfelt toasts were made and love was in the air. I marveled at the wonderful friends my daughter and son-in-law had made on their journey. They were an impressive group of young people and I recall thinking that I couldn't have handpicked a better group myself. Both families and friends had a wonderful time and we were feeling gratitude for the love that brought us all together. At the end of a beautiful evening, we went home to prepare for the big day. It was game time.

When everyone woke up things were unusually calm. Girls were in the shower getting ready for
the day at the salon. I was going over the last minute details in my office when my phone rang at 8:00 am. It was the photographer. She was double checking on the date of service because the wedding planner was making her vendor phone calls to update them on the schedule for the day. Our photographer mistakenly thought the date on our contracts read April 15th instead of the fifth. I seriously thought she was being a jokester. She couldn't possibly be serious. She assured me she would be there but not before my feathers were ruffled and nerves unraveled. Melanie would find out about this tomorrow after all pictures were taken. I carried on, calm as a cucumber.

With a five o'clock wedding, 10:30 am began the schedule of hair and make up. Plenty of time was allotted for beautification and pampering for 13 plus clients. The salon was bustling with hairstylists and makeup artists. False eyelashes were flying. The scene was a happy one with mimosas and a catered lunch.

I couldn't believe how quickly the time went by. I was still waiting to get hair and makeup application an hour before our 2:00 departure time. Thankfully almost everyone was finished and Melanie was glowing. Her beauty and happiness lit up the salon.

As my stylist finished my hair, she gave me a mirror to approve her couture creation. When I looked into the mirror, I almost choked. Who was this person looking back at me? My head looked like a perfectly teased square box with bangs. Spongebob was not the look I was going for. With no time to spare, I jumped out of my seat and asked the stylist for the brush and the blowdryer. I proceeded to find the nearest electrical outlet. Grandma graciously held a mirror in front of her face so I could see what I was doing. No time for panic, just action. The stunned stylist stood there bewildered by my wild undoing of her creation. I had no time for explanations. I could feel my ears turning beet red. With all the things that had gone on, I was a bit unprepared for the panic of a hairdo gone very wrong. Luckily, one of the master stylists took quick control of my head, and calm returned.

We were off to the hotel with everyone ready and primped to perfection, only we were an hour off schedule. When we got to the hotel to dress and take pictures, it was going to have to be fast and furious in order to stay on time for the 5:00 start. We were focused and I was internally assured we were almost successfully ready for "go time." The wedding would not start without the bride.

We entered the bridal suite to find everything in place, including a reality show team of photographers. Everyone was scurrying about looking for their dresses. Melanie waited patiently for me to finish dressing so we could pose for some cherished mother/daughter "getting ready" pictures. Maeve, our youngest -2 year old, was passed out in the bed in comatose fashion, after several busy days without a nap. She was lying shoeless in her flower-girl dress, fur coat and all.

I quickly realized a major malfunction when I couldn't locate the red paisley bag with my undergarments, shoes and emergency items I had specifically packed for both Riley, the maid of honor, and I. It was no where to be found. Surely, after all the careful instructions about which bag went where, it would turn up. I had even put it in the car myself. Immediately, Melanie's bridesmaid's and her Aunt Molly sprang into action. A fleet of beautifully dressed women scampered the floors of the hotel, collecting anything and everything we were missing.

Then, in the whirl of scavenger hunting, someone announced that we were missing a bridesmaid dress. It was Riley's, the maid of honor. I was starting to feel the choking airwaves in my throat. Panic was at my door, but I refused to open it. Steve's blood pressure was rising and it looked like he just swam 100 laps in the hotel pool. He was dripping with sweat. I knew things could start plummeting quickly as we have all been around dad when the he is sweating bullets. Things could get dicey.

In a rush, he flew out the door, ready to make the drive back to the house to get the dress. I followed him quickly to help him regain composure and Melanie pleaded, "Dad, don't leave!" I looked him in the eyes and told him to breath... which he did very, very well. We flew into the bathroom so he could soak up the dripping sweat and catch a breath. His bow tie still needed tying. He asked me to do it, which I was more than happy to do, only I had no idea how. With miraculous teamwork, we tied it successfully in seconds. He left the bathroom to take some shots with Melanie, as I coped with a very distraught maid of honor. She had already started to bawl off her beautiful applied makeup.

I stood in front of her, and looked her right in the eye, and gave her permission to cry... and cry hard. She only had five minutes to do her crying. As I left her to release her stress, I had to come up with a plan B that did not involve anyone driving anywhere. There simply was no time for that.

As I left the bathroom, my brain was on hyperdrive. Unfortunately, it was devoid of any ideas. I didn't have a sewing machine handy or I would have sewn something out of the drapes. Suddenly, I remembered Melanies bridesmaid, Andrea, who flew in from France. She was the only one with her luggage in the room. The dress she wore to the rehearsal dinner struck me as our only way out. It was a beautiful black off the shoulder, short dress with a ruffle across the top. It would fit perfectly with the other dresses. Indeed, Mother Mary came to my aid. Our only obstacle would be if it was the right
size. It was close and I was determined to make this dress fit one way or the other. I didn't want to go to Plan C, which would have required another bridesmaid to offer up their own dress so Melanie could have her maid of honor clothed and respectable.

I entered the bathroom feeling triumphant, but Riley was still visibly a wreck. She was not happy and I didn't blame her a bit. Yet at that moment, I told her that this would be a life changing experience. The whole fiasco was out of our hands. We only had one thing we could control and that was our frame of mind. Her attitude and ability to keep her eye on the ball would be something she would always remember. Getting Melanie to the church, with everyone in a joyful spirit to celebrate with her, was paramount to a successful day. She had the ability to choose which way she would handle the situation. I didn't dare impose which way she should go. It was her choice. She could dry her eyes, and put on the dress that wasn't in the plan, and smile her way through or she could remain upset for herself and ruin a beautiful atmosphere of love and unity. I let her make the choice.

As usual, she stepped up to the plate. Her maturity was a feat beyond my hopes for the moment. She dried her tears and went with the program as if nothing happened. She looked beautiful and her goodness beamed for all to see. The pride I feel for my children is something I can not adequately explain when they do good things. But when they turn a nightmare into a dream is when my heart swells the greatest. I know they are soaking up the ability to conquer tough challenges in life through attitude and focus. They are honing their skills at "keeping their eye on the ball" so that they hit a homerun when many others strike out under pressure. This ability separates the minor leaguers from the majors in life.

We arrived to the church very late, but all were clothed looking beautiful and happy. Maeves white shoes never showed up and she march down the isle with her everyday sandals, a fur coat and a basket of lifesavers. Her hair was beautifully matted and uncombed from her slumber. We stayed focused on getting to the church to start the ceremony as fast, calm and happily as we all could possibly be. I don't think anyone was the wiser, except for those who witnessed and participated in the harried scene 30 minutes prior to arrival.

From then on, the wedding ceremony fulfilled all of our hopes for a beautiful, sacramental beginning to Melanies new life with her handsome, loving husband, Jeff. God and his grace poured out upon our families as we kept our eyes on the ball. We hit it out of the park with a grand slam!

Thank you all for the beautiful gift you gave me- on the first of many weddings for this family. The love I feel is overwhelming.
We make a wonderful team!

Love
MOM

The Gift

2012-12-02T07:39:00.000-08:00

As we put Thanksgiving 2012 in the books and look forward to Christmas, I am reflecting upon the week our family spent together with everyone home from college and work. At the beginning of each day we huddled together and exchanged our ideas for what needed to get done. When we finished with our needs, we peppered it with our wants. Everyone exchanged their vision of what they wanted to accomplish and what they wanted to do to spend time together. I am amazed at how many things we crammed into the week and am also grateful at how much everyone wanted to savor the moments together.

One conversation that stands out most last week is the topic of making "lists." It is central to the season and should be the axis of our lives. The girls gathered together and were all discussing what they wanted to do with the few precious hours left before Melanie had to catch her flight back to Texas. With only a few hours left to share, they decided to head up to the mall because it was close and Riley commented that she needed to get some ideas. I immediately felt my heart swell as I assumed that she wanted to browse the stores for gift ideas that she would give to others during the holiday season. My ingrained response is the mother's reflex to think the best in each of her children. Then, I thought to quickly ask..."Ideas for what?'

She automatically responded, "I need to get ideas of what I want for Christmas. Everyone keeps asking me what I want. I need ideas." The girls all chimed in, "me too, me too!" I agreed. We definitely need to shop for ideas. Only we won't ever find what we need at the mall. It occurred to me our focus needed to be on making lists this season and these lists need to focus on the giving- not the wanting.

My eyes immediately widened and my face gave a very telling look. I am horrible at hiding what is in my heart. It seems to come right out of my face, which isn't always a good thing. I was hit with the reality that I had many hours left to tend in my family garden, plucking out some weeds that were getting a little unruly. The last time I checked the garden, I was yielding some pretty tasty fruit. But I guess that's what happens when you turn your back for a second. Those weeds are hearty. The roots are deep and they grow back so quickly.

Despite the annoyance, I am back to picking weeds before this Christmas season. This Christmas we are all going to make lists. Only, I don't want to see lists of "wants." The season is about Christ's gift to the world. His gift involved the sacrifice of His whole life- in body, mind and spirit. We are to emulate his gift by giving to others with our words, deeds, and spirit to the extent each of us are able. I want to see "giving" lists this Christmas. What would you each like to give this season? Where can your gifts be utilized as an offering to someone else. I want you to spend more time thinking about what you can give, even if it is only with your words. This is the meaning of Christmas and should remain throughout the seasons of life. When we leave this world and meet God face to face, the only gift we have to give is the gift of our own lives. It should be wrapped in love for Him and others. I want you all to be proud of the gift you have to offer . You may be disappointed when you realize you could have given God so much more in return for the gifts you received. Your words, deeds and relationships in love are the only things that matter. They are the only things you can take with you to eternity.

You are all familiar with my book of "specials" that I keep tucked into my Holy Bible. They are the precious gifts of love you have all given me through the years. The mothers day cards, pictures, drawings and expressions of love from when you were all very little and could barely write. The earliest attempts at expressing your love captures my heart the most. I am often overwhelmed when I reread your hysterical poems in your precious handwriting. I often think this is how God looks at each of us as we attempt to give Him gifts to show our love and thanksgiving. He prizes the purity in our heart and the way we each express our love for the stage we are in.

Remember the year dad's birthday rolled around, and all of the little ones ran around the house looking for something to wrap up? As you reached into the cabinets and toy boxes to find gifts to give, the funniest gift was the orange Sheila grabbed out of the fruit bowl. She used pretty wrapping paper and gobs of tape to wrap the odd shaped edible. The wrapping job itself gave dad and I so much joy. Every year, dad still gets a wrapped orange for his birthday as a joke. It reminds us of the precious way we are to give gifts.

So, as your are making lists, concentrate on the list of gifts you already have and focus on where and to whom you can give them. The simplest and most unexpected acts of kindness bring each other the most joy. Always be looking for opportunities to use your gifts to give to others, especially as we celebrate this Christmas season. Do not think they are too small or insignificant to give. Remember the gift of baby Jesus. He was small, just like us. His life was God's greatest gift to us.

Be thinking. I will be asking for all of your lists very soon. I am anxious to see what each of you put on your "giving" lists this year. I am confident you all will have some great ideas that aren't found in the mall. I can't wait to see what gifts you all put under the tree wrapped in love this Christmas. How can you use your lives to give your own, unique gift back to God -each according to your abilities? I hope you can spend some time thinking about this during Advent season.

Love
MOM

Word for the Weekend is...Manners

2012-09-23T06:41:00.000-07:00

The older I get, the more convinced I am that my work and devotion to being a mother demands all the attention and care I can muster. Many women struggle with their value in being a stay at home mom and struggle with their worth and contribution to the world. I am fortified with determination and purpose the older you all become. There is nothing that underscores the importance of what I am doing, than meeting young people without the basic social skills many take for granted.

Parents weekend in Oxford, MS on September 7th, 2012 was case in point. On our way to the grove, Sean, Maeve, Sheila, John Paul and I stopped by Mitchell's dorm to see his new room and to meet his roommate. The weeks leading up to our visit, Mitchell had described his roommate as "quiet", but he was getting along well and staying busy. I was anxious to meet this young man and to see who Mitchell was sharing his freshman experience with.

I wasn't quite prepared for what happened next. We all streamed into the tiny dorm room where we saw a young man sitting at his computer, playing a video game of some sort, complete with monster headphones for the experience. John Paul and Maeve, who are four years old and one year, bolted around the room, bouncing from one corner to the next. In a matter of seconds, there were six human beings in a rather small dorm room getting the grand tour. Never once did Mitchell's roommate look up from his computer screen, nor take his headphones off to extend his hand for an introduction. He never uttered a word. The entire twenty minutes we were in the room, we were invisible to him. He was not invisible to us, however. I was dumbstruck that six people could suddenly come into his space, breath on him, run around him in such close proximity, and he could continue as if his world never changed.

The absence of what I would call the most basic social skill, was astounding to me. I am still thinking about it 3 weeks later. An 18 year old does not wake up one day suddenly and unexpectedly unable to introduce themselves. Even the most shy individual should have this skill.

This awkward situation left me feeling uneasy. The entire 20 minute experience was odd at best and sad to realize his one chance at leaving a first impression was complete. I left feeling perplexed and strange. Had he looked me in the eye and shook my hand, I know I would have left feeling much better. While the entire campus was buzzing with excitement, getting ready for the big football game, he was cooped inside with a set of headphones and a computer. It was a beautiful, sunny day. It made me sad to think he was missing out on the friendships and camaraderie that should be part of campus life. I wonder how he will fare when the time comes to get a job.

You only get one chance to make a first impression. Training you all for the day you will fly out into the world is a compilation of many small acts that culminate into one large body of work that enables you to function and carry yourself with confidence. A good first impression is important and is meant to carry you beyond that first meeting. Teaching proper manners may seem insignificant but it is important if you want your children to function socially. It is a blessing that helps create trust and friendships in their life.

Never underestimate your manners, and never be afraid to introduce yourself. Always give a firm handshake when you meet someone for the first time. It's amazing how much trust can be transferred in this simple exchange.

These episodes always affirm my vocation as a mother. It validates the value in the simplest gestures that matter so much, and is worth the time it takes to shape young people to be ready for the world.

Love,

MOM

Thoughts on Adoption...a sidenote.

2012-08-25T11:59:00.000-07:00

When I think about the options I had to face between adoption and motherhood, I can say with certainty that each option is a self-sacrificing option. In my case, the critical factor in my decision was having supportive parents and a family willing to stand behind me. I also knew that Tony would be a great father and would always be part of Melanie's life.

Many women in the same situation do not have this luxury and gift. If I had not been blessed with such supportive parents who were financially able and willing to help, I know that I would have been pushed to reconsider what was best for Melanie. I wanted my child to have every good thing, and not just in a material sense. I knew that I had love to give and was willing to scrape and scrimp, yet it wouldn't be fair to Melanie if I couldn't provide for her as the years went on. Living on welfare or in a homeless shelter wouldn't offer her the opportunities for a life she deserved to have. She was innocent and shouldn't have to suffer hungry on the streets, especially when there are stable, married couples longing to have a family. If I couldn't provide emotionally for her, I also would have had to reconsider. The thought of handing her to another couple after carrying her for nine months was a visual that made me sob uncontrollably. I couldn't imagine how hard it would be. It felt like I was getting kicked in the gut just thinking about it.

Because I've had to consider both options, I realize that selecting adoption is the greatest and most noble of sacrifices. Women who are deciding what is best for their child without a strong support network from the family or the father, face a crisis of the greatest magnitude. The most heart wrenching gift a mother can give her child is the opportunity to have a life she couldn't otherwise give. This gift is even more amazing if she is alone and abandon. The inner struggle that accompanies such a decision rivals the fiercest battles ever fought on a battlefield. The mother possesses the strength and fortitude of a soldier in order to deny herself the love of her own child. A loving mother never forgets her child. The strength it takes to make such a sacrifice implores all of my admiration and respect.

Having both a niece and nephew who were adopted from Guatemala, I have witnessed the beauty and sacrifice in their birth mother's gift. Both mothers chose to give their children an opportunity for life in another country, to an unknown set of parents who love and adore them. Mark and Sharon are amazing parents and treasure their children as if they were their own flesh and blood. Your cousins are beautiful souls whose love and personalities add depth and dimension to our family that would be lacking without them. Daniel and Marissa were the answer to many, many prayers. We are grateful to God for the blessing of these children. The biological parents would be overwhelmed with joy to know how much their children are loved and adored by many. It is the reason and hope for such a sacrifice.

I also know people who have been adopted, who thank their birth mothers and understand their great sacrifice. Some of our richest friendships and beloved family members would not exist without the gift of adoption. The self- sacrificing gift of adoption is clearly a witness to what Christ's sacrifice on Calvary is all about. The blessings are abundant.

Though I am forever grateful to have had family who provided me with tremendous support so that I could choose motherhood with a sound conscience, I am always inspired by the strength and sacrifice by those who choose to place their child up for adoption. I hope you will always be able see the hand of God in both options.

Love,
Mom

Temporarily out of order...part 4

2012-08-23T08:08:00.001-07:00

Melanie's reception into the world was a joy filled event. Everyone couldn't wait to hold and cuddle her. I remember the first time Tony laid eyes on his beautiful, baby girl. She swiftly stole his heart and it was never to be returned. We all witnessed the tender meeting of a beautiful father/daughter relationship about to begin.

It was obvious fatherhood became very real at the precise moment he picked her up and tucked her into his strong arms. As with many fathers, the reality of fatherhood doesn't quite sink in without a baby to hold. Mothers, on the other hand, experience the reality of motherhood in a physical way much earlier due to the nature of pregnancy. The baby moves and squirms inside the belly, making the new life hard to ignore. I was certain Melanie would be a gymnast with all the prenatal back handsprings she seemed to be doing. Women have nine months to witness the abdomen swell to epic proportions, experience changes in appetite, adjust to disrupted sleep patterns, and heed the call of frequent bladder demands. These changes prepare mothers for the physical reality of impending motherhood. At the end of gestation, most mothers will tell you they are ready to give birth and eager to get the "show on the road." The beauty of God's timing and design for life finds its home uniquely engineered into the physical and emotional mechanics of a woman's body.

Though I was still unsure about the direction and details of my future, I was definitely ready to begin the journey of motherhood. Tony's love for Melanie was solid and I knew that being a father was the joy of his life. He was "hands on" from day one and was drawn to his new role as "daddy." We both had a strong support network in place and our families stepped up in every way. Strangers and friends donated items, people handmade and bought gifts to lift the burden of needs that accompany new life. With the outpouring of kindness and generosity from many contributors-known and unknown, I was beginning to feel as if my trembling feet were planted once again and touching solid ground. I felt optimistic about the future and could visualize goodness in my life. God's gentle love was cradling me as I rocked Melanie in my arms. My spiritual awakening was truly in the baby stages. Melanie and I would begin our journey together. Her infant days would mirror my spiritual birth into a journey toward truth. As Melanie nestled in my arms, I rested calmly in the Almighty.

I began thinking about God more and more, contemplating deep thoughts. Again, I was retreating within but this time without a heavy heart. Giving birth was a powerful experience and I could see the beauty of God's hand where I never had before. Being a woman afforded me a unique opportunity to see God, my personal faith, and the universal church in a meaningful and relational way. Some discoveries hit me fresh between the eyes. Pregnancy involved 3-TRImesters. The number three became significant to me as I saw the trinity anew. Christ was 30 years old (3 decades) when he began his ministry, and 33 when He died for us on the cross at 3:00 in the afternoon. I hadn't figured out what to do with these tidbits but was awestruck by the number three. God could easily speak to me in this new language. He had my attention and I was listening.

It wasn't long before I could easily see how every human person is designed to be in relation to God and to one another. God provides physically for the most basic needs a baby requires to sustain life. It is impossible to nurse a baby without touch and affection. Every human needs the loving touch of another to thrive. Hunger is also a universal need which propels an instinctive cry for food. Melanie had a pretty good set of lungs and used them proficiently to relay her hunger. This hunger parallel made sense both spiritually and physically. I had cried out to God in moments of need. It was instinctive...almost pre-programmed. I began to thank God for my tears, in joy and sorrow, as it reminded me of my baptismal promises. Every time I cried, I was aware of the salty taste that preserved the knowledge that God was physically present to me. He was with me and in me.

God designed a built-in delivery system for nourishment. No human person could will or create a more perfect system of nutrition for a newborn. All nutritional needs in the womb come from the woman internally. After birth, milk flows from the breast. Once a baby can walk, it would eat 3 meals a day. Again, the number 3 popped in my mind. Spiritually, nutrition for the soul derives from the same divine source... Creator of all. As a Catholic, in community, we receive the richest spiritual food where Christ offers Himself again and again in the Holy Eucharist. I was beginning to see order.

Much later I would learn that "wisdom" and the "universal church" mentioned in scripture is always referred with the feminine pronoun. "He" and "She" points to God and His holy church respectively. This gender significance shed light on the indissoluble value of men and women uniquely created by God. It developed deeper still, signifying the union between God and His church, spawning life in Christ for all his children. The sacred bond between man and woman in the sacrament of marriage is a visible sign of God and His church. It is holy and good because it is created in His image.

This holy sacrament, with fidelity between each other, produces new life even if the union remains childless. The vow to remain open to life as a married couple and lovingly accept children from God, affirms the order where man cannot rise above his Creator. All authority and honor regarding the sacredness of life rightly belongs to the Father. This self-sacrificing love produces life in the marriage, in the family and in the church.

In my infant stages, I was only able to "ooh and aaah" in wonder by new spiritual discoveries. I knew that God was love. Conversely, it was becoming clear that love is not necessarily God.

Once Melanie arrived, she had needs that had to be met, not only physically but emotionally and spiritually. Tony and I didn't want Melanie to simply survive but to thrive in goodness. Tony and I agreed to this wholeheartedly. This agreement required that sacrifices had to be made. The fact that we deeply desired only goodness for her made it easy to understand how God doesn't only want us to live life, but live life in abundance. He wants His children to have the best.

Though Tony and I would forgo romantic love and remain unmarried, we were able to maintain a mutual friendship with love. We also wanted good things for each other. In order to progress, we would have to mend our hurts and heal the pain we caused each other. We would not let ourselves be blinded by our selfish emotions. They could never be larger than our love for God nor surpass our love for Melanie. Selfishness, fear and jealousy do not reflect the essence of life giving love.

We had to take baby steps and trust that God would help us. We each put all of our energies into making life stable and secure so that Melanie could grow. We were both conscious that our words and actions must be congruent and we must have unity for her sake. We consulted each other respectfully in all matters regarding her parenting. We struggled at times yet it was God who strengthened and guided us.

I could never have predicted what God had in store for us. Twenty four years later, I would be sitting in a church, filling a pew (or two)with my husband and ten children-and future son-in-law, celebrating the sacrament of Holy Orders at Tony's ordination into the priesthood. Thankfully, I love surprises.

If you ever think your plans are great, check out the order of things. If they are in good order, God will deliver something more spectacular than you could ever dream. If you put yourself first and try to rearrange what rightly belongs to Him, you can expect to shortchange yourself every time.

I can not express in words how grateful I am for the goodness and wonders of God.

Love,
MOM

Temporarily out of order...part 3

2012-08-19T11:12:00.000-07:00

With my new found peace and confidence, I dialed the phone to tell Tony right away. My excitement was growing as the phone started to ring. As Tony picked up, I immediately blurted out the great news. Up until this point, I hadn't considered that Tony wouldn't share my relief in coming to a final decision. I was so overwhelmed with joy that I hadn't contemplated my personal experience with the divine occurred only in my soul. There was dead-pan silence screaming in my ear. My enthusiastic joy bounced into a brick wall.

Looking back years later, I understand his reaction. Though at the moment, I was shocked by it. I had taken control of a decision we "both" were supposed to be making. He had invested hours of time and tears of his own emotional energy trying to be cooperative in this decision. We were both parents of this little baby and he rightly wanted to be a part of the decision. In a single phone call, I ripped the reigns away and made a swooping proclamation. I was suddenly enlightened by the holy spirit? I can see why he was doubtful. The girl he fell in love with was "spiritual", but not exactly in lock step with the holy spirit.

He was underwhelmed by my conviction, and I was hurt. The wheels of trust were springing a leak. We started wildly defending our positions. We were both very emotional and passionately protecting ourselves. As the days and weeks wore on, our relationship started crumbling apart. Though we still loved each other- trust, the first order in the foundation of all relationships, was starting to sift and sway. Our relational disorder came into play once again. I hung up the phone a basket case, crying a river of tears.

Though I desperately wanted unity, the hurdles toward unity were becoming higher and higher. We both started leaning on our separate families for support. We both backed into our own corners, and went round after round, with no winner. We were both losing. Why wasn't love enough? I couldn't meditate on this word long enough. It consumed me. What was love? I mistakenly thought love and unity were synonymous.

By the time I was ready to deliver, our relationship was almost non-speaking. I asked Grandma to be my birthing coach, and we prepared to welcome this new life together. I was happy that my mom would be there, yet sad because I knew this wasn't how it should be. We had just left class where we watched an instructional video of a live birth. On the way home, I started to panic. There was so much going on emotionally that I hadn't given too much thought to the physical aspect of what was in store. The video was very graphic. This baby was actually going to have to come out...of me. I remember a full blown panic attack. I was gripped with fear once again. Interiorly, I heard..."you are committed." Slowly, peace returned, and I no longer needed a paper bag. I think I was hyperventilating.

Yes, I was physically committed and the only way out was through the physical pain of labor. Another spiritual nugget. It would be years before I finally understood it's depth and true meaning.

Just after breakfast two days before my due date, I was sitting at the kitchen table with grandma when I had a twang of pain in my lower back. I squirmed a bit and the grimacing look on my face concerned grandma. It stopped quickly and I shrugged it off. Grandma's motherly intuition kicked in and she told me to go lay down. Labor was in motion. For hours the pains came and went, growing in intensity. I still remember Aunt Janet painting my fingernails in between labor pains. That was quite a manicure!

Grandma made all the necessary phone calls and summoned everyone to the hospital. She called the doctors and made all the arrangements as I labored away in my room. I was just waiting for someone to tell me what to do and where to go next. Tony was at the hospital with his family and the waiting room was full of family and friends. Despite our awkward situation, the atmosphere bustled with excitement and anticipation.

Melanie Christine was born on May 21, 1989 at 8:10 pm. The love in my heart overwhelmed me like a tidal wave. I was a mom now and would be forever changed in many beautiful ways. God blessed not only me, but the world with the gift of her life on her birthday. I was thankful and honored to receive the gift.

Story continued...part 4

Love,
MOM

Temporarily out of order...part 2

2012-08-18T04:54:00.000-07:00

In composing part 2, I have had extreme difficulty in deciding where to start. All of the details during this time are still fresh, as if they happened yesterday. I have guarded many of these details and still find them protected in my memory. For years I have considered them very private, like sacred jewels given to me as a personal gift from God. Though I treasure these jewels, I have come to know these gifts were not for me, alone. I am obligated to share this experience with you.

When I found out I was expecting, I believe I was in a state of shock. Being 20 years old, my age afforded me the maturity to know that the life inside of me was a human person. I had no delusions about a positive result on a pregnancy test. Nor was I immune to facing the responsibilities of creating this new life. My thoughts immediately turned to the baby and my obligation to do what was right and good. I was confused and stunned...but never confused about what happens when a women becomes pregnant. Naturally, at the end of nine months, I would have a baby in my arms. To think of this any other way, I would have had to take the brain out of my head. Logic and reason, not to mention scientific physical proof, underscored the enormity of what was happening. I knew another life depended on me and all decisions moving forward. I could no longer morally proceed with only my intentions and goals. I had an obligation to do what was right and good for this new life who was inextricably part of Tony and I...now and forever. Any action taken from this day forward would always have a direct impact on the three of us. I couldn't help think about our extended families as well.

When I broke the news to Tony, he was shaken yet strong. He immediately told his father. I was both relieved and terrified. Relieved that I no longer held this knowledge alone and terrified because it made the situation very real. We would both have to start making some important decisions. I would have to break the news to your grandparents. Tony bravely did all the talking as I sat there, unable to say a word. I am forever grateful for his strength during this time.

Tony and I were in love. We had proof. We had told each other so- many times. Yet, the inescapable fact that Tony and I were not married yet complicated the situation. We had decided not to rush into marriage and both felt it would be unwise to make a hasty decision under the circumstances. We were both in in complete agreement on this subject. We also consulted the campus priest a few times for guidance and asked for prayers.

My superior ideas of reordering my spiritual life were now in question. Out of necessity, I had to revisit my brilliance and challenge my own values and beliefs. What in the world did I believe? What would become of my life plans? Would I finish school? Would Tony and I get married in the future? Did we really love each other like we said we did? What would life be like for our unborn baby?

All of these questions overwhelmed me. So much that I became very depressed by the weight of it all. I felt like I was drowning in the sea of unknowns. I tried to block out all the rambling questions bouncing around in my head. I couldn't focus or concentrate on anything ...except that I had no answers to any of my questions. I was extremely guarded and started retreating within myself. I had contempt for anyone who prodded me for answers. Though many people asked questions out of love, it only underscored how little I knew. I had no answers and it terrified me. It made me very angry to think people were discussing my situation so casually. It was my life and I was defensive and protective of it. To say I was difficult during this period is an understatement.

When I came home at semester break, my mother had gotten the name of a counselor at the local Birthright Counseling Center from our parish priest. I felt confident this was a concrete place for Tony and I to start sorting out questions and getting in tune with the course of action we should take. I felt relieved to be placed under the guidance of someone who was familiar with our situation and could walk us through our options and offer objective advice. I was completely incapable of doing anything constructive in my state of mind. I did not return to school. Tony and I started visiting the counselor once a week.

We were given homework at the end of each session. We were to make two lists of pros and cons. One for keeping the baby and one for giving the baby up for adoption. Those were the only two options to discuss. Because of my age and desire to eventually be a mother, I leaned heavily toward keeping the baby. Though I was still young and a bit of an emotional mess, I was confident in my ability to be a mother. I knew I had a lot of love to give. I had pages of pros yet I could only see one drawback. It just happened to be major, and that was financial. How would I care for a baby with no husband, no degree, and no job.

Tony, on the other hand, was less convinced that I was prepared for such an undertaking. Because we decided to wait on marriage, he felt that a stable home with both a married, loving mother and father would be best for the baby. He and I had similar pros and cons- they were just in different columns. We both agreed that we wanted what was best for the baby, but couldn't agree on what was best.

Tony and I were still proceeding as a couple but things were becoming strained. We were realizing how very little we knew each other. The stress was taking a toll. The crisis was bringing out the worst in both of us. The stakes were very high and we were both protective of ourselves and our points of view. I was starting to grasp why the order of marriage before children was such a blessed order. I craved unity.

During this time we both reached some pretty serious lows. My pregnancy was progressing and we still could not come up with a plan. I was in tears most of the time. My face was breaking out in hives. Tony took over his fathers produce business and was working hard to pay for the prenatal care and plan for the future, which was still up in the air. He was getting counsel from his family and I was leaning on mine. My due date was approaching without a consensus, so grandma and grandpa stepped in to help sort out what was weighing on my mind.

I remember sitting at the kitchen table and my dad asked me to try and pinpoint the one thing that was holding me back from making a decision. I told him that it was financial. I knew I could do it. I just didn't know how. Though Tony was participating in all of the sessions, we were at a crossroad. Our future as a couple remained uncertain. Though I never believed he would abandon me or the baby, I wondered what would happen if he did. I would have some serious difficulties financially doing it all alone. Grandpa asked, "If I took the financial worry out of the equation, then what? What would you chose?" Without a doubt, I said with absolute confidence, that I would keep the baby. He then told me my parents would be there to help me financially if there was ever a need.

At that moment, I felt a peace beyond understanding. I now know the source of that peace came directly from God. The holy spirit was palpable. My parents love for me was a visible sign of God's holy and sacrificial love. I had been given many signs about the direction to take, only I couldn't see them. Fear was clouding everything. In an instant, all of my fear vanished and I knew this was the right direction. Though there was still plenty to fear, I was no longer gripped by it. I was starting to see clearly.

Spiritually, it was as if the top of my head opened and volumes of theology dropped inside...just like that. An infusion of knowledge about God and the mysteries of the faith suddenly crystalized. It has taken me years to realize just how extensive this gift has been. I experienced a profound spiritual awakening just after I silently vowed to God that I would no longer follow my own order. I surrendered to Him completely in thanksgiving for direction. I wouldn't move a muscle without His lead or consult church doctrine in any other matter in my life. I audibly heard a soft voice in my soul..."Place your trust in me."

The glaring errors in my previous thought process began hitting me over the head like a hammer. The missing component in my order was commitment. Commitment to God and commitment to each other. My arrogance was embarrassing. Why did I think I could reorder something that was strictly God's business? I was humbled to the point of tears but extremely joyful. I couldn't wait to put myself in His loving care. The weight of the world was lifted and I couldn't wait to tell Tony.

Story continued in part 3...

Love,
MOM

Temporarily out of order...part 1

2012-08-15T10:02:00.000-07:00

Twenty four years ago to the month, I unknowingly sat upon the edge of my spiritual conversion. This event was monumental. It changed the course of my life. It has changed the course of all your lives. This simple conversion changed my heart, mind and soul. I was gently redirected and set back on solid ground. I was twenty years old and oblivious that my life was temporarily "out of order." God spoke to me, loudly and lovingly.

As I began my senior year of college, I returned to campus eager to finish up my studies as a graphic design major. I was full of hopes and dreams for my future. I had ambitions of traveling the world after graduation. I would secure an exciting job in the world of design after I traveled a bit. Then, I would get married and have a family after my career was in full swing. I would have some money in the bank. I was dating someone I was in love with and our relationship was dreamy. We were in love. My plans were progressing and I was assured I had it all figured out. I was on track with all of my goals... except in my spiritual life. I didn't actually have any goals for my spiritual life. I just accepted my spirituality as an accessory to all other pressing, worldly goals. It was something I could simply put on and take off when needed...like a pretty scarf.

I accepted my identity and spirituality as being distictly Catholic. I was a baptized, confirmed, eucharist- receiving believer. I loved God very much and believed in the bible. I was raised Catholic and spent my grade school and highschool years in Catholic education. I grew up attending mass every Sunday. Almost everyone I knew was Catholic. Though I identified myself as Catholic, I consciously made up a few new spiritual rules for myself. I thought my reasoning was completely logical, despite the fact I wasn't in line with many of the teachings of the church.

In reality, I wasn't very Catholic at all. I practiced orthodox relativism. I took the liberty of assessing tenets of the faith I thought were outdated and threw them out. After all, I was a "modern woman" and the church's teaching on abstinence and moral absolutes were a little outdated in my view. Chastity was a virtue of the past. How hard was it to be chaste when people married so young- in biblical times? Surely, God didn't account for the feminist movement, where women traveled, and married so much later in life. Observing the sabbath...well, God knew I was a busy college student and I had studying to do. Homosexuality? That lifestyle was a preference. Who was I to judge -so long as they chose to love? Love is good, right? God is love. That was an easy one. Birth control... a non-issue. Of course it was permissible. I just didn't see any down side there. Many of my moral, loving, good friends were on the pill. I didn't really think too much about it. New advancements in science...how wonderful. Abortion? Even though it was legal, I knew that abortion was killing a baby...Period. Yet, fear kept me from ever proclaiming this truth. I was afraid of my own strength to choose life if ever had to choose. Surely, this was a personal matter where I was unqualified to judge. I didn't want to sound cruel and judgemental. I was unwittingly attached to the vice of human respect. I sympathized greatly with anyone forced to make this decision. So, I always remained silent on this one. Many other challenging moral questions never hit my radar. I was focused on my goals.

As you can see, I was pretty comfortable rearranging the order of things. I also didn't spend much time and effort getting to know what the church taught- nor why. Turns out, I was either asleep or deaf during my catechism classes. My order was working out just fine. I was a good person. I believed in God. I, being an enlightened college student, was capable of making judgements for myself. I also consulted the wisest people I knew...my brilliant friends. They were extremely smart. I concluded this fact since we unanimously agreed on all contemporary issues of our day...at least the ones we cared most about. I was reassured by their approval and great knowledge of all things relating to God. None of whom were majoring in theology, reading church doctrine or even practicing the faith, I might add.

My plans were moving along quite well and graduation was right around the corner. I was in the home stretch. It was one month into my senior year in college, when plans changed. I found out I was expecting your sister Melanie. My perfect plans came to a screeching halt. Thankfully, not before God took my hand and whispered in my ear. He lovingly and gently reordered my plans and my life.

I thank God everyday for this radical correction.

Love,
Mom

Story continued in part 2...

Guilt and Shame...Gifts from God?

2012-07-28T06:25:00.001-07:00

This topic is one that many parents do not spend much time thinking about with regards to themselves, let alone spend time teaching their children about. The emotions of guilt and shame are universal and we all have had to deal with them internally at one time or another. Guilt and shame are very unpleasant emotions to deal with and claim. The most common way people sort through these emotions is pretending they do not exist or by stuffing them down deep inside. Unfortunately, as a parent, by avoiding these emotions, they become the subconscious drive- responsible for many serial mistakes. They are the culprits robbing us from deep internal peace. It is also impossible to be an effective parent when you are dealing with guilt or shame. It is a mistake minefield.

According to wikipedia, the definition of shame means "to cover", figuratively or literally. To "have shame" means that you maintain a sense of restraint against offending others. Our values and societal norms are two ways that keep our restraint in check. Having "no shame" means the boundaries are quite wide concerning moral behavior. A poorly developed conscience, rebellion of authority or being without moral code, regarding faith or lawful respect could contribute to being shameless. It refers to those who have excessive pride or hubris. Unfortunately, there are infinite examples of shameless behavior in our world today.

There are also several categories of shame. In order to gauge whether the shame we feel is appropriate or not, it important to consider the different categories of shame. There is false shame. This is when we attribute shame where it ought not be, feeling shame for something where it is not due. When abuse is involved in the physical and sexual realm, this creates toxic shame, especially in children. There is secret shame, which notates the obvious. We are consciously hiding something. There is also vicarious shame which attributes shame to ourselves that belong to someone else. Shame refers to the self.

Guilt on the other hand, refers to the action. If we are trained properly, we will be able to discern if our actions warrant guilt. Most children are naturally good at this because of their purity. We taint this ability if we are conditioned poorly or our moral code is directed only at the self-or there is no moral code/ ethics to guide our lives by. Most people naturally use their faith to guide their conscience. Despite a strong faith, years of repeated sin will dull our ability keep our conscience strong and vigilant.

I have heard many people in today's world negate the benefits of these two emotions, as if there is no productive need for them. We are told if someone is feeling these emotions, they must be feeling something wrong. Justification and rationalization are the two most common weapons used to combat these emotions. Although there are countless ways to justify these uncomfortable emotions, justification doesn't work well at eradicating them. The fix is temporary and misleading. Getting honest with yourself and others is the only way to truly eliminate these emotions. You will need to evaluate whether these emotions are healthy in nature or not. Excessive guilt and shame can be an undue burden not to mention a selfish indulgence. If these emotions are not in check, you will likely be able to see the unhealthy fruits of these emotions in the form of anger, distress, depression, and unhealthy narcissism.

In any case, whether your emotions are appropriate or not, shame will keep you from looking in the mirror with pride and seeing someone you like and are proud of. Making ordinary mistakes shouldn't cause shame...it is only when the offenses are grave against ourselves AND God that shame sneaks in. Our dignity and goodness is shaken. The core of who we are becomes unstable. This always needs to be addressed. The abundant life God wishes to give us fades away. Joy is incompatible with shame.

I suggest that if you are feeling either of these unpleasant emotions, it is time to do some self- examination. These emotions should be stop signs for you. I personally believe they are a gift from God. They are warning signals. Our loving Father has given us specific tools to use to guide ourselves in behavior and in moral code. They are the bells that go off when something needs addressing or when you are headed in the wrong direction. Some say it is only our conscience... but I say, they are whispers from God. The commandments and beatitudes are God's external written code, giving us a concrete way to find Him. Our emotions are gifts He has scripted inside of us to find him internally. It is also how we know we are raised above the animal species and set apart from all other creation.

A very simple example of this mistake making minefield was when I was working full time when Melanie was little. I felt very sad and guilty that I had to be away from her. Though I had to work and there were no options, my justification for the guilt did not keep me from making serial mistakes. We had no schedule in the evenings and I pretty much let her run the show. She stayed up late and slept in my bed. Big no-no's in the parenting world of routine and authority. She knew she had me wrapped around her finger and that I was weak in the discipline arena when it came to bedtime...and probably other areas as well. I felt guilty that I couldn't spend time with her in the daytime, so night-time was a night-mare. I let all kinds of things go on that I would never do now.

For me, the only way to eradicate my guilt was to eventually be at home with her as soon as I could possibly do so...even at great financial sacrifice. I really do not know how things would have panned out had I continued to work full-time. I suspect I would have made more parenting errors to temporarily alleviate my guilt or I would have had to come to terms with my guilt in some way so that I could be at peace with my situation, which I was not.

If you are feeling either of these emotions, it is time to stop and think. Is your guilt or shame affecting your behavior? Are your negative emotions in the way of making good solid decisions? Are these emotions impeding your ability to do what you know you should do for the best interest of yourself or your significant others? If they are, then its time to make some changes, seek counseling or most importantly...go to confession to lift this emotional burden. Identify if there is shame in your life. If there is, deal with it honestly. You will most likely have to go out of your comfort zone in dealing with this emotion.

Pay attention to your warning signs. Do not ignore or rationalize them. You will undoubtedly continue to make serial mistakes to placate these emotions at the expense of yourself and others. Save yourself the time and trouble and deal with these emotions promptly. Identify these emotions as the gifts they were meant to be.

Most importantly, I want you all to look in the mirror and smile at the person you see staring back at you. After all, you have to live with that person each and every day of your life...no exceptions. Your faith will not fail you in guiding your conscience. Embrace it.

Love,
MOM

Discerning Vocations-How "I knew" dad was the one.

2012-06-01T07:45:00.000-07:00

Now that several of you have reached the age of 18, and several more you are skipping happily through puberty, the subject of vocation discernment seems timely. Melanie's recent engagement and call to marriage was happily received by the whole family. You have also witnessed Tony's discernment and call to the priesthood. We eagerly await his ordination coming up in June.

In discerning your vocation, whether it be religious life, married life or living a single life- the first order of contemplation should be meditating upon what each of these states in life require from you...not what you will receive from them. If you are choosing a vocation to get away from something, you probably haven't discerned long and hard enough about where God wants you to be. You need to be running "toward" something...not away. Your state in life should always be bringing you toward God and to a vocation where your gifts move you and others closer to Him.

Over the years, you have all heard the story about how dad and I met. Yet many of you haven't heard how I "knew" he was the one. After dating a while, I went with dad to visit his grandpa in the hospital. I had only met his grandparents once or twice before. I knew his grandpa had epilepsy and was in the advanced stages of Alzheimer's. He took a bad fall in the nursing home and broke his arm. It was a terrible break and one that required surgery.

When we arrived, his grandma was lovingly flitting about his bed. She was fluffing his pillows and trying her best to make him comfortable. She was checking on his meds and chatting with the nurses. She stroked his hair when he moaned in pain. She kept telling him how she loved him, reminding him that she was there. It appeared that he was very agitated and confused. Perhaps he didn't even know her name. Her loving care did not groan, or grumble. She just loved him with all her might and took care of him with every ounce she had. She showered her love despite his inability to love her in the same way. She was a visual picture of the gospel. She was living out her marriage vows with incredible beauty. Her love was the epitome of hope and charity. This sight was very moving to me.

In between watching her spoon feeding grandpa and her gracious welcome to us, I "knew." This was true love...being able to love and expect nothing in return. Loving for "loves" sake and for the sake of God. Grandma loves God with her heart and soul. It was as if a light bulb went off and I knew what I could do and would do -for dad. I held that kind of love for him. I knew I loved God this much. I was drawn to it and committed to it. Even though there were numerous reasons why I love dad (too numerous to mention:), it was as if something clicked and I knew what "I" had to offer him. Lord knows, I was broke...I only had myself and my love to offer. I just had to wait for him to pop the question. It was a life changing day.

Knowing yourself is very important. It should be a project you are always working on. Do you have what it takes to live the gospel? Do you have what it takes to fulfill your commitment to God in the holy sacrament of marriage? Hopefully you choose someone who understands love in this same manner. Will you love God enough to love without getting anything in return-no matter what state in life you choose? This is a tall order but one that reaps enormously when we are not seeking to receive...only when we focus on the giving. This is what is required if you want to experience true love. It is what is required if you are committed to God. If you know yourself well, you will know where your gifts can bring that kind of love to the world.

I hope you all carefully discern your vocation and are scrupulous about knowing yourself. I hope you will pluck out what holds you back from loving in this way. I hope you encounter people who will inspire you to "know" where you are called to be. ( Thank you Grandma -"Nani GG"!) The fruit of her love is 10 great grandchildren. See what you can receive when your aim is to give? I thank God she was able to show me this kind of love...you are here because of it!

Love,
MOM

What is wrong with your face?

2012-05-31T04:43:00.000-07:00

The truth. The quintessential search for meaning. This search has taken man on a wild ride through the ages. As I sit here and think of all the knowledge gained, debated and discarded through the ages, I laugh. I laugh thinking about all of the great thinkers of past and present. They obviously didn't have a four year old in the house.

"What is wrong with your face?"
Hmmm. Not exactly Socrates or Plato... but still...how do you answer that? This question seems to be coming up quite a bit these days for John Paul. I sit on pins and needles everytime I bump into a lady from church who is blessed with the experience that comes with age and who has the facial wrinkles to prove it. Each and everytime he meets someone in the senior arena or greets grandma for a visit, I can see it coming. The stare, the furrowed brow...and then there it is- out in the open. The raw unfiltered truth. "What is wrong with your face?"

The questions, questions and multitude of questions that flow as a child. There in the questions lie the answers. What makes us so curious? Why are we born to seek and know? Why aren't we satisfied with any old answer? No...we want the truth. If we are tenacious enough, we won't stop until we are satisfied. This plain and simple truth about the truth should be your first indicator that God exists. He's not complicated. He makes it pretty simple. Almost as simple as the wrinkles on your face.

“Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. "

If the questions don't get you, just hang around here a little while and wait for the statements.
"Mom?" John Paul says as he's poking my less than toned upper arm, "You're really bouncy!" Yes, bouncy is definitely an adjective I can live with. It's pretty awesome and humbling to be living with the truth 24/7.

Thank you all for keeping me so close to the kingdom. I am deeply grateful and always humbled...even when I'm not trying to be.

Love,
(your bouncy) MOM

Crumbs and Confession

2012-05-16T05:26:00.000-07:00

Having children means there will always be crumbs...lots of crumbs. During the twenty years I have been living with crumbs, I have discovered it's benefits. There is always an inexaustible buffet for the little ones crawling around and it keeps the vacuum close at hand. It also reminds me of the sacrament of confession.

When Garrett was a baby, his personality as a wild child was evident from the start. He was fearless in every way, except when it came to the vacuum. He would climb on tables, jump into the pool like a mad man and loved to swing high in the baby swing. Yet, he was petrified of the vacuum.

One day, when Garrett had a party with the family size box of cheerios, I plugged in the always handy vacuum. He crawled right along side me curious about this contraption. When I turned it on and started sucking the mounds of cheerios, he let out a scream and bawled hysterically. He crawled so fast you would have thought he saw a monster. Every time I got close to him, he crawled as fast as he could to get away. The sight of his irrational terror made me laugh.

It also made me think about the sacrament of confession. Here I was, using this instrument to clean the carpet and Garrett couldn't scoot fast enough to get away from it. How often do we avoid the sacramental instrument we have at our disposal to clean our souls? The great gift of confession gives us a clean heart and the ability to receive grace from God. But we run from it like scared, irrational children.

The noise from a vacuum is a little scary and loud for a small child. But in the end, there is a clean carpet that emerges from this harmless appliance. Reflecting on our sins causes noise in the soul and disturbs our peace. We are forced to face ourselves and our shortcomings. This can be like encountering a monster at times. But in the end, there is absolution and a weight that is lifted from our souls. A clean heart to start new. Asking and receiving forgiveness always brings peace and grace.

This desire for peace and grace is something all people crave, even if they do not have the sacrament of confession to employ. I am grateful to have this sacrament as a Catholic. I had a conversation with a friend (non-catholic) who was doing some painting for me that made me understand the importance of forgiveness, no matter what faith you belong. Since we were friends, we were chatting about our families and she was telling me about her mother. There was a strained relationship, mostly on her mothers end. She revealed to me that when she was a teenager, she became pregnant as a sixteen year old. Her parents, though christians, encouraged and facilitated an abortion for her. They felt that was what she needed to do. My friend sadly complied under the guidance of her parents. Though years had passed and not a word was ever spoken, my friend said she felt her mother was still dealing with the guilt of the decision. My friend had asked God for forgiveness and had received counseling from the Rachael Project. She had peace and forgiveness for herself and her parents. The fruit of her forgiveness was peace. Only her mother was still holding guilt which affected their relationship. I had asked her if she might want to tell her mother that she forgave her for the decision she made so many years ago. It did not occur to her, but I knew how important it is to hear the words out loud. During confession, the most freeing part is hearing the words of absolution which proceeds the penance given to make reparation. It is part of the spiritual healing we crave that leads to peace. I believe in God's infinite mercy no matter what faith you belong, but I am especially grateful for the grace of the sacrament as a Catholic. There is no deeper feeling of peace than hearing the words spoken out loud from the vessel of Christ, "You are forgiven, In the name of the father, son and holy spirit." Since God created us and knows what we need, Christ graciously instituted this sacrament for our spiritual well being.

So the next time you get out the vacuum, I hope it reminds you of the sacrament of confession. Keep it handy and be reminded to use this sacramental gift. It is irrational to stay away from it. It may make you laugh now when you think of how absurd it is to run away from it. If your house is full of crumbs-do not worry. It is better to have a clean heart than a clean floor. Just keep the "vacuum" nearby, it is an important tool to have in your spiritual tool box.

Love,
MOM

Faye Wilson

2012-04-17T03:49:00.003-07:00

Everyone has a life story. Even though I love to read, real life can be more fascinating than any novel I have ever read. You can learn amazing things from the most unsuspecting people if you become more interested in listening and less interested in speaking. You don't have to go to exotic places to hear interesting and amazing things. Everyday life presents scores of opportunity to meet and talk to interesting people. All you have to do is ask the right questions and give a little of your time. Some encounters are divine and leave lasting impressions. Some teach us with their stories. Faye Wilson was one these people.

When we rolled into Houston for spring break, it was early in the morning. After settling everyone at Melanie's apartment, dad and I checked into the hotel nearby to get some rest. The next day was St. Patricks day and everyone was buzzing outside the hotel getting ready for the big parade. After a good nights sleep, I woke up early the next day and went outside to see what was going on. I sat quietly on a bench outside the hotel watching people. I was alone on the bench...until Faye Wilson walked by.

I could tell he was a homeless man by his backpack. He came over to the ashcan looking for cigarette butts that were still smokable. As he picked at the butts, he found a few with a couple of puffs left. As he plopped down on the ground, he looked straight at me and blurted with a big smile, "Can I tell you something?"

I said, "Sure", curious about what he was going to say.

He said, " I am HIV positive in the advanced stage. I am homeless and I've been homeless for several years. I am looking to get a spot at the HIV clinic on 5th and Main. If I can get in, I will have a bed and bus card. I will also get to have a shower. They will assign me a case worker to help me get my medications. I have to prepay $7.00 for a week stay. So far, I only have a dollar."

I did not have my purse with me, so it was not awkward to tell him I had nothing to give him right away. It also allowed me some time to talk to him and hear his story. I wanted to know more.

I asked him how he contracted AIDS. He told me very honestly that he was a lost soul in the 1990's. He said he did everything wrong. He was promiscuous and I suspect he was a drug user. He told me he found out his HIV status when he was at a clinic giving plasma for cash...perhaps to fuel a drug habit. The doctor came in with a folder and shut the door. He knew right away it was bad news. He left the office and got stoned out of his mind. His world came crashing down. He was in his mid twenties- the prime of his life. He talked about how he handled things back then and how life is so different for him now. Being homeless gives a person plenty of time to pray and think about God. He and Jesus are best friends. He talked about his faith and had wisdom about scripture. He knew the bible well and understood it's message. He spoke about forgiveness and his personal journey of healing.

He told me about life as a homeless person. I asked him where he goes to shower and about the challenges of being homeless. I really wanted to know where he used the restroom. He smiled at me and said, "When I first became homeless, I had to get used to people treating me like a piece of trash...they would shoo me away and look disgusted when they saw me. At first, it made me angry. My pride made me an angry man. Now I feel sorry for those people and I pray for them. I am not angry anymore." I imagined how many times I've looked away from a homeless person. He said, "I know I am a human being and a cherished son of God. God gave me a lot of gifts and one of those gifts is bravery and courage. I just walk right in a shop and use the rest room if I have to. If they turn me away, I go to the next one. My homeless friends say "Faye, you can't go in there...and I just say -I am not afraid. All they can do is tell me no." He told me that you get pretty resourceful when you have to and he prays to God for help everyday. He told me he simply prays, "Lord, please put the right people in my path today." His openness and his general happiness told me he had peace with himself, with God and with his life. He didn't sound corny or crazy. He was very real.

He said "you know what I really want to get away from?" I thought of a bazillion scary things he might want to get away from. But I said,"No, what?" Faye said, "the ducks." The ducks really were bothersome when he tried to sleep under the bridge near the viaduct. He said they just poop everywhere and they really stink. They were pretty noisy too. We both laughed hard at that. I imagined trying to sleep with ducks quacking around in my bedroom.

I continued to ask questions about his family. He told me how many brothers and sisters he had. He told me that he was close to his mother but when he contracted AIDS, his family started acting different toward him. They were afraid of getting AIDS too and he felt it was better if he just left. He told me he used to be in the culinary business and with his status he can no longer work around food and sharp knives. He missed earning a living but with his medical condition he couldn't find steady work. I didn't ask much more about that.

I asked about his father. He said he knew who he was but he never "knew" him. When he said this, he looked away as if he was imagining his father in his mind. His eyes filled with tears. I asked him if that bothered him- never knowing his own father. He said, "Yes- I don't think about him often but when I do, I wish he could have known me. I would have like to have known him too. I am 46 years old and I've only seen my father twice." I suspect his abandonment was a source of emptiness his whole life, even if it was buried down deep. He smiled really big as if he knew he had to let it go.

I asked him how he stayed so positive. I wanted to know if it was hard to fight the demons of desperation and survival. He just leaned back and smiled. "I walk around with grace on one shoulder and mercy on the other." I smiled right back at him. What a great formula! I told him, "Even though you are homeless, you have a peace in your heart that money can not buy. You have what many rich men will never know." We both smiled and knew that was true.

Just then a very large man came up to us from the hotel. He towered down at Faye and said, "I'm sorry but you are going to have to leave the premises. We do not allow you to talk to our guests. You have to leave now." He hovered about Faye like he was the piece of trash he described. It was extremely awkward and I felt hot inside. I felt bad that Faye dealt with this daily...being unwanted and being treated less than human. I was keenly aware of his humiliation more than ever. I have never known it myself but this experience gave me a good taste. I didn't like it at all.

I said, "It's OK. He's not bothering me, I want to talk to him." The security gaurd looked at me for a long time. He didn't want to offend one of his customers but he really wanted Faye to leave. I don't think the guard could figure out what to do, so he left quietly.

Our conversation lasted two hours. When I had to leave, I told Faye to wait across the street at the catholic church. I didn't want him to be harassed by the security gaurd while I went inside to get him some food and 3 weeks pay for the clinic. I scooped up the largest breakfast buffet I could squeeze into one "to go" box and pulled 21.00 out of my wallet from up in my room. He looked like the happiest person I had ever seen when I handed him the big bag of food. I knew it would last him for days. I don't know if he ever used the money for the clinic but I suspect he was telling me the truth. There was something special about him. He loved the Lord and sang several songs for me. He was a good singer and sang with such joy. I gave him a big hug and said goodbye. He apologized for smelling bad but I didn't notice any odor. As I left, he said "We may not ever see each other again on earth, but I will be looking for you in heaven." I smiled and felt goosebumps rise up on my neck. He spoke what I had been thinking as I rode down the elevator. I imagined Faye clothed like a king and draped in jewels. He would have a very special place in heaven, perhaps at the right hand of the Father. After all, his name means "Faith."

Love,
MOM

Faye is also the English form of the old French Foy, meaning "faith" (from the Latin 'fides').
Sainte Foy was a French martyr who lived in Agen, in 300 AD.

The Plumber

2012-03-28T07:36:00.005-07:00

Since this episode is fresh in my mind, I am feeling the need to document last nights events. There is always a lesson hiding in every experience. Sometimes you have to search hard to find the lesson and sometimes it slaps you right across the face. My face is still stinging.

I find many things are vital to a functioning household. Most of the time, we do not realize how vital these things are until they are not functioning. Take plumbing for example. When the kitchen sink isn't working, it seems like the whole world revolves around pipes. Having running water and a sink that drains properly ascends to ultimate importance when you experience the mountain of dishes that can be amassed in one short hour in this hungry household. I never knew we had so many dishes.

When we came home from spring break, I cleaned the refrigerator of all the nasty, stinky leftovers gathering mold to make room for the fresh food. First lesson, do not stick loads of left over meat down the garbage disposal... especially pulled pork. If your only option is to smell bad meat in the trash for a week until the trash man comes, choose this over clogging your pipes. This is probably obvious to most people, but I will stress it nonetheless.

Since I did not heed this prudent bit of advice, I found myself looking for a plumber. For years, this has always conjured up great anxiety and panic. It is extremely hard to find a good and trustworthy plumber who can find the problem and fix it with great skill and speed...and one who will not charge you up the kazoo. So, I was breathing a sigh of relief since I had found that skilled, trustworthy plumber a few years ago. Only he was not answering the phone and his website had vanished from the internet. It became clear after a frantic day of trying to get a hold of him, that he was out of business or moved from the area. Now...it was time to panic.

Desperation causes many reasonable and otherwise logical, wise individuals to resort to stupidity. At the very least, desperation equals bad decision-making. If you can avoid being in this state of desperation, I highly recommend it. I did something completely useless and stupid in my desperation to have a functioning sink. I called a plumber I had reservations about. I never thought he was an expert plumber, but I was desperate and thought I had a text book clog. The plumbing 101 type. That was until the "plumber" came... and I use this term very loosely.

After 45 minutes of clanking pipes and disassembling, he left. He turned off the water and said he would be back tomorrow with someone who could fix the clog. I started having serious reservations about my bad idea when he arrived with his fly unzipped. It remained unzipped the entire time he clanged and banged under the sink. What was I thinking?

The obvious escaped the "plumber." It was dinner time and I had a hungry family to feed. Not to mention, a baby to fix bottles for with no running water. I guess he thought the hose would work just fine. Those of you who were in the kitchen after he left, will remember my tirade. I just want to clarify lesson number two...know who you are! Do not pretend to be someone you are not. If you are not good at something, it's OK. Find an expert. Just do not pretend to be an expert in an area you have no business being in. If you want to be an expert, take the time and trouble to know your craft. Be the best that you can be in whatever you decide to do. If you are not good at something, be humble enough to admit it and do not burden others with your lack of expertise. This lack of humility only leads to disaster.

Lesson number three concerns desperation. Avoid it at all costs. If you are feeling desperate, seek the advise of someone who is more clear headed than you. You will thank yourself for this and most likely receive prudent counsel. Seek an expert if you can. You will avoid the stinging from the obvious slap in the face of this life lesson. Your face will thank you.

Love
MOM

Make it Count

2012-02-29T05:27:00.183-08:00

Through the years, I have received many compliments about the way all of you get along and take care of each other. I am proud others notice this quality of concern and friendship. People see that you not only love each other but that you genuinely like each other as well. This was no accident. It was an important goal your father and I set for our family.

If we were ever to succeed in making harmony and unity happen, we would never let fighting and bickering overtake our household. Fighting sends my reflexes into overdrive. Disrespect is not tolerated. Children only exhibit these traits if they are allowed to do so. It is absolutely not allowed...at least if it's in my earshot. I have proven how serious I can be on many occasions. You all could be sure that "something" was about to happen if dad or I ever had to get involved. Through the years, you all have developed your own ways of working it out, simply because you like the outcome much better than if we had to get involved. If things ever escalated, you could be sure to hear footsteps beating down the hallway or up a flight of stairs. I don't come flying because its fun. I come flying because if you hurt each other emotionally, you are hurting me. If you hit one another, you might as well be hitting me. We are connected. If this mother bear will protect you from a random stranger, you can bet I will equally protect you from a raging sibling.

If arguments ever get out of control, you know I am going to ask you to "fix it." When I first started telling you all to do this, there were some pretty puzzled faces. Physically, fixing a scratch or a bump is next to impossible. The body has to heal itself. Emotionally, "fixing it" is much trickier. You can not see the wound, so it has to be identified. This healing takes a little more effort. There are words that need to be spoken. Communication. This takes a lifetime to perfect. So, we practice it.

Apologies are a must. Yet, empty apologies don't work very well. In order to deliver a sincere apology, there needs to be empathy for the other person, putting yourself in each others shoes. Imagine what it feels to be the other person. There has to be contrition and a sincere effort to change. I know you are truly sorry when I see the behavior change. I can also tell you are sorry when you try to make up for the misunderstanding by doing something kind for one another. Sorry means very little if these incidents repeat themselves over and over. Sorry is just an empty word without change.

If I catch a lighter disagreement early enough, one trick in my bag is to have you go to your rooms, sit on the bed cheek to cheek...literally. Your arms have to be wrapped around each other in a hugging position for an allotted amount of time. If there is resistance, the time increases. When I come back in after time is up, I bring a camera to take a picture of this loving site...my goal. Most times, the fighting turns to laughter and giggles before I leave the room. The discussion turns to what a kooky mother you have! I also illustrate how silly I can be if you insist on being silly yourselves.

I have explained many, many times how the decision to have a large family wasn't only about the desires of your father and I. We chose to have this large family so that you would be gifted with the love and support of one another. Scratching each other's eyeballs out doesn't really fit in with that goal. You are to view each other as a gift, not as a burden. Cherished friends, not enemies.

So when your kids start to quarrel, be swift and mighty. Teach and instruct. You'll have to be committed to this goal. It takes effort and creativity. Do not expect harmony to happen magically. If you are consistent, you will see results. Do not forget your sense of humor. Choose the issues you care about most and make it count!

Love,
MOM

Clues

2012-02-25T09:07:00.000-08:00

Being a mother and parent requires many different skills. You will be forced to wear many hats under this guise of parenthood. You will be the head chef, the cleaning crew, the party organizer, the handyman, and spiritual advisor. Of all titles in the potpourri of identities, my detective hat has served me well in solving the hard cases in motherhood. The sharp intuitive skills given to mothers, equip us with the single best gift in detecting clues of heart and soul. With this sharp intuition, I often think I could be a forensic scientist or perhaps a detective in the police force.

People have a way of saying many things without using a single word. Their behavior and attitudes are telltale signs of what is in the heart. Sometimes children (and people at large) are obvious and sometimes they are coy. In order to read these signs, you must first tune in. Each child has their own way of sending clues and speaking without words. Do not be too busy to notice signs and clues. If there is something you find troubling, you must study...study the behavior, study the demeanor, study what tips off a meltdown. Study their friends, the food they have been eating, the movies they have been watching, what is going on in their social media and books they read. Study relationships within the family. Start asking questions. Be available. Let them know you see them and desire to know what is in their hearts. Identify the behavior that you see as red flags.

In order to achieve success in cracking any case, there must be a solid level of trust and a considerable amount of availability. They must feel that you are truly interested in them and trust your intentions. They must know you are willing to go the distance with them and that you desire only what is for their own good. When they get older, you must spend individual time with them so they may have access to you alone. This may mean you just sit quietly in the same room with them. It doesn't need to cost money. They need time to open up. It's hard to pour out your soul out to someone in a hurry. Some children feel more comfortable corresponding in letters. Encourage this if you feel you have a child too shy, introverted or emotionally charged to speak directly at first. With older children, offer books on topics you feel will speak to them. Do not be afraid to try whatever it takes to keep at it. Although the foundations for laying this safety net are best laid out in early years of rearing, it is never too late to reach your child and start these practices at any point.

I find that all children desire to be seen (deeply) and have their hearts heard. As the parent, hearing through their words and getting to the heart of the matter often trips up even the most experienced parent. So often we bring our own issues to the table and can not hear properly. If you can get far enough into the process, you will find the core issues likely stem from some type of fear. Perhaps there is a deep need that requires attention. It may take heroic patience and often bionic strength to presevere in this exercise. If they divulge their innermost thoughts and take the courageous step to communicate, do not belittle their fears. Never do this, especially if you ever want them to trust you with their feelings and needs ever again. Even the smallest fear can cause us to act out or behave irrationally at times. Do not be afraid of their fears.

When Riley was in the 4th grade, I had an epiphany during one of her parent teacher conferences. She was always a bright student who never struggled with her grades. She could manage her homework quite proficiently and did not require a lot of attention in that regard. Her straight A's and high test scores assured me of her capability. Because there were other children new to the school scene, I focused my energies on the younger ones, trying to get routines in place. I was busy making sure they had their homework done, checking calenders and helping the younger ones who needed help with their math facts.

Suddenly, her A's dropped to C's. She started "forgetting" to do her homework. At the conference I sat puzzled with her teacher who also came from a big family. She suggested that perhaps Riley was needing a little more attention from me. My heart sank. I felt she really nailed it. How could I not realize she just wanted more time with me? If her grades were good, I would busy myself with the others and make little mention of what was going on with her. "Good Job" was about all she heard, or "keep it up, Riley". She equally wanted my attention and care- not because she needed help with the school work or was incapable...but because it felt good. It made her feel important. She felt visible when I paid attention to what was going on in her 4th grade world. Lesson learned.

I came home and made an effort to have her show me what was in her folder, what she learned that day, and even what she had for lunch. I asked her about her friends and favorite subjects as I worked with the other children. I even told her I needed her help to work with the other children. She could be their tutor. Since she was such a good student and had extra time, she could help me get everyone organized for the next day. Almost immediately, the grades rose to prior levels. She received what she was longing for and I learned to take the necessary time to listen and truly hear.

On a funnier and more practical detective note, I am most famous for my forensic skills regarding the "Billy Bob" episode. Rianna had received a beautiful new doll for her 2nd birthday. The doll was the type with a pretty face and plastic head with no hair. Her body was the size of a real baby and had the weight of a real one too. Rianna was thrilled and cherished this clean new doll that was all her own. Being the sixth child, Rianna had more than enough dirty, naked, nappy haired, hand me down dolls. This one was a prize.

It was the bloodcurdling shriek that propelled this detective into motion. Screaming -being the obvious clue that something was wrong, I dropped everything and went running. It was the type of scream that indicates someone is bleeding..badly. As I flew up the stairs, Rianna met me half way down sobbing, "Look at my dolly!" Her precious doll had only been in her possession for a week or less, and now she was hideous site. Some culprit took a ballpoint pen and made a simulated "goat-t", satanic eyebrows, tribal war paint, scribbled hair and the words "Billy Bob" on top of her head.

I demanded to know who was responsible. I immediately thought of the older boys who were 9 and 10 at the time. It just smelled of boy humor mixed with boredom. However, when I brought the doll to Sean, the 10 year old, he flew over the bed in hysterical laughter. The surprise of it all told me he had never seen this before. It did make for a hilarious looking doll...scratch Sean off potential suspects. I next went to Sheila who was five. "Sheila, did you write Billy Bob on Rianna's doll?" She replied, "How do you spell Billy Bob?" Scratch Sheila. I was left with Melanie 13, Mitchell 9 and Riley 6. My bets were on Mitchell as he was known for these types of destructive stunts. Melanie was off the list as she was beyond the maturity level for this type of entertainment. She was a freshman in highschool. So, that left me Riley and Mitchell.

I asked them again to no avail. I told them if someone didn't fess up, they would both be guilty and have to face equal punishment. They were to go to a room upstairs and sit together until I told them to come down. I thought the pressure from the innocent one would give way to the guilty party. I thought their conscience would not want the innocent one to suffer punishment. Though it was a great idea, it did not work. They both insisted their innocence. Suddenly, I had an even better idea. I told them both to go upstairs with a pad of paper and ball point pen. Each one of them were to write "Billy Bob" fifty times and bring it to me. While they did that, I studied the letters on the dolls cranium. I found the B to be the most distinct letter because it was written 3 times. The culprit would have the matching B. And so the mystery would be solved by handwriting analysis. The guilty party turned out to be Riley. Her "B's" were a perfect match. I am glad my detective skills kicked in, otherwise I would have punished an innocent child. Suddenly, I had a child who not only needed attention with respect to vandalism but she was a pretty comfortable and convincing liar ready to throw her sibling under the bus. Her consequences were going to have to do triple duty.

It has taken years to perfect my detective skills. The work is serious at times and can be comical as well. The vocation of motherhood means there will never be a shortage of detective work to do or lack of clues to discover. May uncovering the mystery of your children give you a great sense of purpose and fulfillment beyond measure. I love being able to discover the beautiful mysteries of you.

Love,
MOM

The Constants of Parenting the Individual

2012-02-23T10:21:00.000-08:00

When you begin your journey as a parent, you may experience situations that cause you to be at a loss. What worked for one child, doesn't necessarily mean it will work for the next. Because each child is born with their own personalities and are wired to communicate and process differently, their needs for parenting will have to be individualized as well. This has been a journey for me, since there are so many of you. Each one of you react differently to discipline, rules and the boundries that are set. Some of you test the waters again and again. Some of you are sensitive to the "look", while others need a little more theatrics to get your attention. Some of you require hands on attention and some of you need your space...especially at different stages of development.

For all of the different styles and ways I've had to parent, there are a few things that remain the same. Each of you know that I will not give up until I find the right way to get through. If there is something I feel you need to address or skill you need to develop, I do not assume that you will "get it" eventually. I actively pursue something new, even if it is out of my comfort zone. It is unimportant to me how these corrections happen, just that it happens. You have confidence that I will not give up on you. I will always keep trying.

I have had to bend my mind in many directions to accommodate new situations and new challenges. I have sought the advice of other mothers I admire. I carefully choose those who have pertinent advice to give. The experience of reaching out has been humbling and fruitful on many occasions. I seek help from professionals when the need arises. I have prayed, I have read books, and I have stayed up nights thinking and thinking, until my brain hurt.

As I individualized my method for mothering, there are things I notice that remain the same for all children. The first constant in this process is being able to clearly define expectations. Once you can define your expectations, be consistent in your effort and find effective consequence. Each child has to understand what you expect for their stage of development. Be clear and be direct. Be able to define what you are trying to develop and where you are concerned.

The second constant I feel works (with most people in general) is to infer what you want. Assert the child's potential, even if they are not fully where you want them to be. Describe the child as if they already exhibited what you want. For example, if you want to see responsibility develop, you tell the child you see how responsible they are. Give them concrete examples of what they do that make you see this. Mention any positive comments you have ever heard from others that also noticed this quality. Tell them what they can do to show you they are growing in responsibility. Be specific about what you want to see next. Tell them how you will know they have matured to the next level of responsibility.
Suddenly, they are aware that you and others are noticing what they are doing. This is enough to get their attention. If they are clear as to what to do next, a desire fills them to show their responsibility more and more. We all like to receive positive reinforcement and know that people notice what we do.

Always be able to explain a breach in the expectations. Point out the failure and do so that they may clearly see the offense. Try to incorporate how it effects the core character traits you are trying to instill.
Do not be afraid to write your thoughts in a letter as they get older. It gives them something concrete to process and it enables them to take some time to think and chew on what you are saying. The emotions (disappointment, anger, sorrow, guilt and defensiveness) of the moment is removed. You may also choose to give some encouragement and offer praise...I have never regretted doing this as it always produces fruit. Especially if it is for no particular reason...just because.

The third constant, is being available to hear and listen. If there is a serious offense against the family rules, take time to let them voice what is on their mind...even if you do not like it. You will be establishing a practice of listening. This quality is important for all future relationships in life. This will open their ears a little more when you have something to say. It is showing a respect for their thoughts and feelings. This respect helps them hear you and take time to think about what you have said. Try hard to let them talk with no interruptions and ask that they do the same. I find this to be effective and we usually end on a positive note -giving each other a chance to express our love for each other.

I am excited as I daydream about all of my potential grandchildren...I hope I am blessed with many!!!
I look forward to seeing you all find your parenting style and hope you read your children well and
fearlessly parent accordingly. I know you will make wonderful parents when the time comes, -loving and caring for each of your children as individuals. I know you will seek wisdom when you don't know what to do and you will always invite God into the difficult process of raising children.
(Yes, I am inferring what I want here...take note:)

Love,
MOM

"Braces"

2011-07-13T16:07:00.000-07:00

When Melanie was born, I remember the rush of emotions that overcame me as I looked at her for the first time. In an instant, her existence changed my identity from daughter to mother. On May 21, 1989 - my lifelong title as “mom” started to spin in motion. When the nurse handed Melanie to me and we met for the first time, there was a rush of love and and an equal rush of responsibility that had me wondering what lie ahead. There was a feeling of relief that she was here safe and sound and a feeling of accomplishment that my body had completed the process of bringing a new life into the world. There was a wave of anxiety and awe that hit me as I realized our journey was just beginning and that I had a huge task ahead. This life changing moment was so enormous, I struggled to find words to capture this grand occasion. While looking at her little chin, which was tucked in from traveling through the birth canal, all I could say was “I think she might need braces.”

Even though Melanie never required orthodontics, I now see meaning in that comical statement. Melanie, like each of you, was surely going to need “braces” for growing up -but these braces weren’t the kind that straighten teeth. These braces are parents who love you and devote their lives to your well being. These braces perform it’s function of setting boundaries and instilling discipline. These braces aren’t made of metal but have the strength of steel only found in faith. These braces hold onto truth and keep the straying “tooth” in line. Sometimes these braces need to be tightened and sometimes they need to be loosened.

As the parent and primary “dentist”, making adjustments every now and then is necessary. With the intrusion of the internet, cell phones, facebook and texting, it seems society has thrown a huge curve ball into the straightforward task of setting boundaries. These elements of today's life are a part our kids culture and saturate their every moment. I feel very uneasy because I am not adept in any of these areas. Because I can’t monitor everyone’s use on the internet, it is safer to ban facebook accounts for everyone in the household who is under the age of 17-18. Cell phones aren’t given out on demand either. What once was used simply for talking to friends, now has the capability to connect to so much more...more than I’m ready to give complete, unauthorized access to. If I can’t do my job well as a parent, which is monitoring for safety and appropriate language, I have to set tight rules regarding this technology. With so many children, monitoring internet accounts would be an overwhelming task. You all are WAY to important for me to make a mistake on this one. Even if you all make the choice to ignore the rules (like that ever happens?) you are clear where I stand and why. You are also clear about the consequences that will follow. The statement, "you promote what you permit" is very true-and I am not promoting until I see you through the delicate teenage years.

Aside from being a time consuming nightmare, the media onslaught bothers me on other levels as well. The values and character traits I am trying to instill doesn’t match up with the self consuming concept of facebook and constant texting for the young learner. Though it is possible to use these internet tools well, I do not think you are all ready to make solid decisions regarding what to post without guidance and supervision. You have little understanding of the permanence of posting pictures others will see and managing other judgements that even adults have a hard time making...(Hello, Anthony Wiener).

Sometimes I feel like the only parent who cringes at this technology-as I'm sure you feel like you're the only kids without a facebook account. I guess we have something in common here. Many people tell me that I need to live in this day and age and that our kids are a part of this media saturated culture...like I should just surrender. Yet, most parents wouldn't allow their toddlers to walk around the edge of a pool without a life jacket if they couldn't swim. I am just making sure you are learning to swim. I don't want you in the deep end just yet.

Also, I am more concerned with your holiness than I am with your happiness at this point. If you get things out of order here, joy will evade you. You will be pointed in the wrong direction. As you all know, JOY comes from Jesus first, Others second and Yourself last. This really goes against what society tells us but that doesn’t concern me. I know I am bracing you to deal with what society is trying to tell and sell you. Right now, you need to focus on obedience, service and personal relationships...the face to face kind. You need to be discerning what is appropriate to share with the public and what is better left to the privacy of your own mind. I am always amazed by the information out on the internet...most of it falls into the category of TMI... "do I really need to know this?" Quickly followed by..."I don't really understand this."

Your thoughts are personal and private. They are always changing and growing along side of you. They are maturing as you mature. There are also personal aspects of relationships that need to stay within the confines of two people. I need to be certain you know when to share and that what you share is appropriate for public consumption.

Even though most of you wish I was a little more lenient in this regard, when we talk honestly about what I see on the internet -you know I am spot on. The dangers on the internet are real. Mistakes made in cyberspace can have lasting consequences. So, for now, the braces remain until it’s time for the “retainer”. Each one of you will be ready for your "retainer" on an individual bases. Until then, I am committed to doing what it takes so that you can see a beautiful smile when I’m through.

Love,

MOM

Our Sacred and Holy Family

2011-06-16T20:15:00.000-07:00

You have all heard me say, on more than one occasion, that our family is “sacred and holy.” It is to be treated with the highest esteem and among the greatest gifts bestowed on us. This is where God most obviously reveals himself and makes his intimate love known. One way He reveals Himself is through the workings of our body. It is clearly seen in the circulatory system. You all are connected and very much a part of your father and I. Physically, our blood pulses through your veins. Because you each have a mixture of our blood running through you, you are equally a part of one another through this genetic fact. Though when one is hurting, why do we cry for each other? Why do we feel such joy for one another? Why do we go to great lengths to protect each other?

This observation reaches beyond science and spills into faith. This close bond is developed and deepened through love, sacrifice and forgiveness. Does this sound familiar to you? This physical truth points directly to our Lord and His mission on earth. He came to show us how to love, sacrifice and forgive so that we might “get along” and know God’s will for us. He came to change “ethos”(conformity to law) into “eros”(conversion of the heart-love). He taught us how to be a blessing to one another. He came to seal His love with a blood covenant. Isn't it interesting that our circulatory system keeps the heart pumping?

In order to keep this family heart pumping properly, we must take care of it in a special way. The family must have the holy “spirit” within it. If "home is where the heart is," the family home must be a place where all members can feel comfortable and safe being who they are, quirks and all. It is a safe place to do all the learning necessary for living outside the family unit. Living together is difficult and requires a lot of sacrifices, even if they are many small ones. When you disagree, you must approach each other with this holy spirit. You must never tear each other down and you must do all you can to lift each other up. You must be honest with yourself and with others in the family...but never brutal with your honesty. You must know that your words are as powerful as your actions. They can lift a spirit to heavenly heights or they can crush a soul with just one word. “Thou shall not kill” also applies to the spirit. You know I am voracious when I see this mean spirit and warn against the dangers of letting it inside the family. We are obligated by God to show kindness and respect toward one another if we want His love to be present in our lives. We must preserve and nourish this spirit with words of encouragement and gentle words of criticism.

In marriage, if you tear down your spouse with words or deeds (because you are made one in the sacramental marriage) you will also be tearing yourself apart. You will be tearing your children apart as well. You cannot attack one member of your family without adversely effecting yourself or the family as a whole. It is impossible.

If I do my job well, you will enjoy each other’s company as adults and will be able to laugh at the times you disagreed. There will be no grudges. There will be no unresolved hurt keeping you from being close. I will be able to leave this world with the full confidence that you will stand shoulder to shoulder, helping each other through any difficult time. You will always have 9 friends who laugh at your bad jokes. People will know you love each other by the words you speak and the by the bond they can feel. I hope and pray you all see the power of your words and use them with great care.

My favorite part of motherhood is watching you all interact together, especially when you are laughing and having fun. I can easily imagine the kingdom of heaven when I experience this joy. Thank you all for this joy.

Love,

MOM

Cooking up lessons with Rice-r-Roni

2011-06-08T09:02:00.000-07:00

One of the objectives for writing this blog was to impart important lessons I wanted you to know about parenting. Ironically, some of the greatest lessons I have learned as a mother have come from all of you. There have been numerous lessons for me -born in the kitchen. Many are quite humorous.

Let’s just establish that I was not a certified chef when I married dad. I think dad knew he was in trouble when I took the casing off the bratwurst for my first bar-b-cue endeavor. Needless to say, I learned rather quickly that bratwurst and sausage keep their shape much better with the casing. Most of our newlywed dinner that night ended up in the coals of the Weber grill. Though my cooking skills have greatly increased, it is an area where I am constantly learning...and I am not always referring to the cuisine. Sometimes the episodes in the kitchen give me great encouragement as a mother, even if the entree is a disaster. I often see fruits of motherhood in the mess...and I admit that sometimes, I’m the one who’s a mess.

One episode that stands out in my mind was at the end of pregnancy with John Paul. I had made it to the ninth month with the ninth child and was physically exhausted. My hormones couldn’t have been more unstable either. In between running everyone to their after school activities, I was trying to squeeze in fixing dinner. Though I can’t remember the whole meal I was preparing, I do remember the Rice-r-Roni. Everything was ready to go, except the rice, and I had to leave to take someone to practice of some kind. I would be gone 20 minutes...the exact time it takes to get the “gourmet” side dish to the table. Mitchell, who was 13, was in charge. I gave him the task of making the rice-r-roni for me. As I left, I was confident things were under control. Reading directions from a box was clearly something he was capable of and I was thrilled things were going to be ready to put on the table when I came home. I was pregnant and hungry after all.

When I came home, Mitch was busy shooting baskets in the driveway. An ominous sign that perhaps he forgot the task I set for him. As I walked in the door, I was greeted with a familiar, yet foul, burning smell that put my senses in panic mode. As I whipped open the microwave, I could clearly see something went drastically wrong. My only side dish wasn’t supposed to be “toast”. The rice was burnt to a crisp and it was still sizzling with the few drops of moisture left in the bowl. Aside from the hormones and hunger, I’m not sure why I was sent over the edge. If you didn’t know about the burnt bowl of rice, you would have thought Mitch had committed a felony. I really went hysterical over my rice-r-roni. As I bombasted him about the importance of reading directions...he was looking at me with a puzzled and very apologetic face. Nonetheless, I kept going. My hormones were on overdrive. Finally, when I quit long enough for him to speak, he said very quietly “I’m sorry mom, I’ll go to my room.” With that, I burst into tears. How could I make Mitch feel so terrible over something so silly? He actually grounded himself? As Mitchell watched my tears start to roll, I’m sure he thought I was crying because rice was no longer on the menu.

Luckily, Dad came into the kitchen to see what was going on. Knowing the hormone malfunction for what it was, he reached out and gave me a hug. I crumpled into tears, knowing I had made my son feel terrible about something so small. I was thrown into a meltdown over 3 boxes of rice-r-roni, totaling $3.50- tax included. Mitch was extremely at a loss, knowing he was only trying to help- yet he was going to ground himself for not tripling the water content. As I thought about the ridiculous scene, I was struck with both tears and hysterical laughter. As Mitchell watched me, I could see a look of confusion and sadness. Maybe he thought his usually calm mother might be ready for the white coats to take her away! When I finally composed myself, I tried to apologized for making him feel so terrible. But every time I tried to speak, I was tripped up by my tears. My true sorrow for blowing things out of proportion did not escape him. Though I was the one who needed the lecture for my behavior, he came over and tried to comfort me. Even though he was dazed by my outburst, he was forgiving of me. Because I was a basket-case and incapable of words, dad filled him in on how powerful hormones affect a pregnant woman. His tenderness and willingness to forgive -gave me so much joy...again, more tears. My attempts at teaching forgiveness were working. His compassion did not go unnoticed.

To this day, I still feel joy and tenderness for Mitchell over my embarrassing error. It is vital to keep your sense of humor when raising kids. Though forgiveness should be first on the list of things to give and teach your children, a healthy sense of humor is a close second. It is a life jacket for the family. Laughing keeps the spirit afloat. With a little light-hearted self-deprecation, everyone in the family now knows to stand back if I am feeling a bit edgy or hormonal. No one wants to see mom go “Rice-r-roni!”

Knowing the word NO

2011-06-07T06:04:00.000-07:00

Children can not go about doing whatever they please. Learning to obey and learning how to accept the word “no” is valuable in living out life in relationships and for gaurding against danger. Saying “no” develops a healthy sense of what is right and what is wrong. It develops self control and excellent self mastery. Saying ‘no” helps children see the value in priority setting. Saying no in a big family is a necessity. I am glad there is limited time and resources that require us to say “no” often. You will have heard this word many times in your childhood. Saying “no” develops patience. Saying “no” makes you appreciate the word “yes.” I rarely feel sorry about saying no and work hard at keeping this word abundant in my vocabulary.

Materially, we are here to provide for your basic needs. We are obligated to provide food, clothing, education, and shelter. Spiritually, we are obligated by our oaths to God in marriage and in baptism to bring you up in the ways of Christ. This includes developing the virtues which makes for contributing, loving, Christian adults. Because we love you and want the very best for you, we provide you with the very best we can afford in these areas. We don’t feed you with dog food, we feed you with the best foods to give you good nutrition to fuel your bodies. We give you a nice home to live in but not too much space where the family unit becomes disconnected. We willingly and lovingly sacrifice a great deal so that you can incorporate God in your education experience. Your Catholic faith is our biggest priority because it is the one area that makes sense of all other areas in your life. We make these sacrifices to give you the best education we can afford. We also don’t let you indulge in dog food when it comes to your spiritual life. We will feed your souls with the best we have to offer. A Catholic education reinforces the virtues we are trying to establish. We do not want you feeding in the dumpster of ideals marketed on TV, movies and books. We want you to have the best faith formation we can give you. We want you to be able to pray at school. We want you to see that what we are doing at home is important enough to be reinforced at school. There is consistancy and commitment to this goal. You will also be among children whose parents believe in the same things we believe in. As a community, we help each other by reinforcing the same ideals in recreation, friendships and team sports. We know the burden of your formation comes from within our 4 walls, but we reinforce this foundation with the values found in recieving a Catholic education. Though this goal requires great financial sacrifice, we believe it is an investment in our most precious God given asset- our children.

We also realize the importance of balance in our lives. Even if we could afford more...we say no to emphasize what is truly important. We are not here to take care of your every whim. I’ve seen this in families and the results are disasterous. Things quickly become disordered and children see themselves as the center of the universe. They are impatient, spoiled and do not get along well with others. They can easily become depressed when their life is not filled with material possessions. Their wants become an overwhelming burden they can not maneuver through. There is an obvious disorder in their lives. They can not find meaning and purpose aside from the quest of constant material aquisitions. Their souls are full of themselves and the material. This leaves no room for God and the love of others. As Mother Theresa said beautifully, “God cannot fill which is already full.”

Leading By Example

2011-06-06T09:12:00.000-07:00

As we all know from experience, the best teachers lead by example. As a parent, I am learning each and every day. This means I also make mistakes. At your baptisms, when dad and I promised God that we would bring you up in the ways of Christ, we did not promise that we wouldn’t make mistakes. I could never make such a promise. God knows us too well to ask for such a feat. In order to keep my sacred promise, I have to show you how to love by forgiving one another. This means I also have to be willing to apologize when I stumble as well. As a parent, if I lash out in anger and frustration, I need to address it. If I yell because order is not being respected, I need to make it clear what is going on. Raising my voice in love is different than raising my voice in hostile, out of control, anger. The more frequent the screaming, the more you know I don’t know what the heck I am doing. You know when I am out of control. (I am positive you all understand the difference.) In a family of constant screaming and yelling, not much constructive learning is done. Children are either learning how to scream...and scream loud so they can be heard, or they learn how to steer clear of the screamer! I can not expect you to give something I am not willing give. I can not expect you to know what I’m doing if I don’t understand it myself. Know your mission and role as a parent.

My mission is to raise adults, not children. There is nothing worse than seeing a child in a grown up body. It’s quite revolting, really. Unfortunately, there are too many adults in the workplace who act like children on the playground. The world needs adults. Sadly, it looks like they are getting fewer and far between. When you are an adult, you need to leave your selfish ways behind. You need to worry more about obligation, responsibility and duty than you do entertaining and “finding” yourself. If dad and I succeed in setting you firmly in good soil, you should bloom into a mature adult by the time you are 21. You will be ready to leave the world of “me” and “my” behind.

Dad and I understand fully that we have 18 years to teach you want we want you to know. We have to be deliberate and careful about our use of time. We will have given you every tool you need to succeed in your tool box. We will have shown you what success looks like and have been actively guiding you to acheive success in your own life. Success will not be the pursuit of money, power and stature. Success will be utilizing your gifts to their fullest potential. You will be growing and discovering the man or woman God called you to be. You will know you are obligated to do your best and you will desire to do your best on your own free will. You will not want it because I want it for you, but because you know it is the right thing to do. You will be able show love readily and give forgiveness easily. You will use your gifts and talents to provide for yourself and your family. You will know that you may have worked hard to develop your gifts but you will be conscious of where these gifts came and to whom they belong...God. If money, power and stature are attained through well ordered pursuits, then the responsibility for these gifts are even greater. They are to be used for the good of the whole. You will be generous to God, to all those you serve, and to those less fortunate. You will know how to love passionately and compassionately. Your heart will be full of the holy spirit. If you are loving with a desire to bring good out of any situation, you will have figured out how to dicern the will of God. You will know how to put others needs before your own and live a sacrificial life of love. You will not be afraid of life’s twists and turns. You will see life as an adventure...and you will conquer it will great excitement. When trouble comes, you will have no fear, because every tool you need is already in your tool box. You will have confidence in yourself and in almighty God when life takes you down a road you might not want to go. Your foundation will be set. Your family will be there to celebrate in all your acheivements and joys. They will also be there to encourage you when there are disappointments and sorrow.

Children are great imitators. They are watching and observing everything. This is why it is so important to know what your goals are as a parent...to know what your mission is. You need to know what virtues and character traits you want to see. Take time to think about how you are going to develop these traits. Most people rely on their own childhood as a guide...even if it very disfunctional. That is why knowing our mission here in the home is so important. Generations depend on what we are doing and teaching. Are we going to make life hard for them or life easier? Is faith going to be hard to understand or will it be an easy leap? Will we send out generations of people who are solid contributers to society and make the world better because they lived?...or will they be a burden and cause for pain and suffering to those lives they touch? Will the world know God because they have met your children? Take time to think about and know your mission. Great leaders have the confidence of knowlege and wisdom on their side.

An Intro to an Open Letter to my Sons and Daughters

2011-06-05T06:16:00.000-07:00

Dear Sons and Daughters,

I have been thinking the time has come to jot down some thoughts and instructions for you. So much goes on inside my head that there are times when I wonder what I have told you or have been able to convey thus far in my parenting capacity. The daily duties of motherhood consume my time so much that I wonder if I were to pass away, what is it that I have left for you in concrete and subtle ways to use as a model and guide in your own duties as a parent-to use in the future, when the time comes of course. More importantly- do you have a “guide book” going forward of the most important things I want you to know and how to pass it on to your children. I will leave none of what I know to chance. I want to be sure that if it isn’t absorbed through example and assumptions...you have no doubts about what I want you to know.

A very common phrase uttered among new and seasoned parents is “that children don’t come with a book of instructions.” Though this is true, I hope to give you something concrete. At least you will have a book according to the way I see parenting and you will have a blueprint to understand what Dad and I were trying to accomplish in you. I consider myself humbled by the duty that has been entrusted to me, yet confident of the authority placed on your father and I on your behalf.

What I will outline for you- as haphazardly as it may come, are the truths, duties and obligations of raising children as God has laid upon us. This is where and whom all parental authority originates...from God, the eternal and everlasting Father.

You can be confident of this authority, as God has made no other blood convenants except through Jesus Christ and through the sacrament of marriage. God is telling us this is where He is revealed to us and where He wants to be known...through the ultimate gift of love. It is through this ultimate gift of love where one gives their whole self to another, body and soul, to become one. In this gift, we behold the fruit of that love, which is where you come into the world -in the life of a child. This child -this precious life- is a gift that gives love and has the ability to recieve love...in a way like no other gift in the world. They are a part of you and will be fashioned in the image and likeness of you and your spouse. They will be the perfect meshing and a delicate combination of the DNA assimilated of untold generations, of family members through many years of love unions that were cemented in the commited bond of marriage. This is a profound mystery and one that should bring you to your knees in AWE of the creator.

At the very least, think of the wonder and amazement, as people who meet all of you- brothers and sisters together. They marvel at God’s handiwork. They take great care to notice who looks like who. They examine what characteristics are the same yet profoundly unique. One comment that strikes me is how much you can tell that we belong together- that we resemble one another in manner and appearance. You must consider this if you ever doubt the existence of God. He is showing His face among you...LOOK! We are made in Gods image and likeness. When people marvel and compare who looks like who, do you ever wonder why people are so captivated? I include myself in this captivation! People are always attracted to the face of God but not all recognize and know what they are seeing. Even though I understand this deep penetrating truth, I am still ever amazed at Gods greatness when I look at the beauty of a family with such similar features.

As an artist, there is much truth to the fact that you can tell much about the artist through his/her creation. The artwork is not the artist himself but a rendering...a 3 dimensional use of the artist’s gift...and expression of his talent. You might be able to make accurate assumptions of who the artist is, but one can never assume to know the artist fully-until they meet face to face. The artwork gives a hint of what the artists gifts are, it tells us what might be foremost in the artists mind and it will tell us what the artist holds dear. So it is true with God. If we study ourselves and our relationships, we will begin to know much about our creator. Since there is so much to know about God, I find the family is the the most logical place to start exploring.

Have you ever wondered why it is- that a big family has such a tremendous effect on people? Why is it so attractive and inviting? Why is it- when it is done well and with the will of God in mind, why is it so mesmerizing? Why do we feel joy when we observe it? I remember feeling this joy one time in particular when we lived in Texas and went to St. Ignatious parish. I always loved it when the Garzas came to mass. They were a beautiful family with 8 children. I felt like I was watching our family from afar. When Mrs. Garza, in her mid 40’s had her last baby, one of the teenage sons who was in highschool (I think it was Joe) was at the end of the pew. I watched as the family passed the delicate baby, dressed all in pink, all the way down the pew to the brother with huge shoulders and muscles bulging. It was so beautiful and tender, I found myself with tears coming down my cheeks completely unexpected.

It is this tender love that shows us the face of God, yet it is also the desire to be part of something greater than oneself. This desire is intense and is a great desire for all people. To be included is a desire of all those I know- especially myself. Another way God shows us Himself is through this great desire. To be part of something noble and great. The family of God the Father...what could be greater?

You all are a light to “this something greater.” Like the Garza family was to me, so you are to many other people when they see you together. It gives the world a “sneak peek” at what it takes and the rewards of being in this great family circle. By this, I mean a lot of things. You have to have a great deal of responsibility when you come from a big family. There are lots of things to be done and yet there are many hands to share in this work. The Body of Christ is real and tangible in every family but is seen especially well in a big one.

You also can not get too attatched to earthly things in this big family. Your oldest sister can surely attest this when she remembers the crushed face of her beloved porcelain doll by her curious and active little brother - who so diligently pounded her face in with a hammer. It caused him great delight until he realized this might have been a bad idea...and he quickly hid her shattered remains under her bed. We all have this and a great many, many other examples of just how much God does not want us to get attatched to the material life. The greater the distress, the more we know we are too attatched. I am grateful to have this experience of many broken things...in so much it is always keeping me aware of how attatched I am to the material. Not that I love broken things mind you, I just am grateful you all make me ever aware of what is most important. I am reminded quite often.

God also shows us his face in the family by revealing the concept of how the actions of one always effect another. If the actions are done for anothers help and benefit- God assures us of a fruitful outcome no matter what the mess we find ourselves in. The good deeds we do within the family help it to run smoothly and it benefits the spirit and workings of the whole. Likewise, if you make a mistake or cause harm to yourself or someone else, it is easy to see how the whole family is impacted. Lets just talk about the playground. If you are a kind person and treat others well...you will have many friends and people will think highly of you. These friends might have siblings that are in one of your brother or sisters class. These friends may go home and tell their parents how nice you are and urge their own siblings to get to know one of you if they were having trouble making friends. What you do affects the whole family and you will never stand alone. If you are not a good friend and are a bully- or a cut up in school, your siblings may have a harder time making friends or overcoming the apprehension of a teacher who had the difficult student. This may not be fair...but it is a fact. You may also remember a particular time when someone had to see the principal. Mom and Dad were not too happy to have to take time out of a busy day at work or at home to tend to someone who was getting out of line. The mood at home probably wasn’t the jolliest and perhaps many of you decided to steer clear of mom and dad for fear of stoking a burning amber to flames. I am confident you have your own recollections, as we all can think of countless examples of how we effect eachothers lives...in good ways and bad.