It's been 2 1/2 months since the move to Juneau and most areas of my life are leveling out to a new equilibrium. However, my prayer life is still hobbling along.
First, there was the crazy, frenetic exercise of packing...
Then, there was the cross continent week long drive...
Then, there was living without our furniture, kitchen items, etc for about 2 weeks...
Then, there was unpacking...
Then, my dad came to help watch our son for 3 weeks...
Then, I was out of town for a conference...
Then, things seemed like they were settling down...
Then, my son got Hand, Foot, and Mouth disease...
Then, I got Hand, Foot, and Mouth disease...
And along the way, learning a new job, making our way around a new town, making new friends...
Most of these things are fantastic - and I'm not complaining (except for Hand, Foot, and Mouth - that's horrible!) but there have been a lot of changes and it's hard to work in prayer. Most days I feel like my Hail Mary's are like a Hail Mary pass. "Thanks God...I hope you hear this but I gotta run."
I want to do everything I used to do: Bible, meditation, discipleship program, Catechism, journaling - which took an hour each morning. The pace of my life is very different now, our living space is much smaller, and our morning routine is very busy with three of us trying to get ready and out the door. While the rest of my life is settled into its new home, it is as though my prayer life is still living out of boxes.
I have been reluctant to change my "old" prayer routine, but it has to change because my life has changed. It's time to unpack and rearrange my prayer life into an order than will work for this season of my life.
Saturday, September 14, 2013
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
Discipline, martyrdom, and obedience
"The very nature of marriage means saying yes before you know what it will cost you. Though you may say the 'I do' of the wedding ritual in all sincerity, it is the testing of that vow over time that makes you married. I hope that I will always have faith in the giddy wonder of romance, but in considering what makes a marriage endure, I am likely to employ such ascetic and unromantic terms as discipline, martyrdom, and obedience."
The above quote is from the book Acedia & me: A Marriage, Monks, and A Writer's Life by Kathleen Norris. It's a great read about the little discussed/known sin of acedia which is spiritual sloth or apathy. She explores the history of how acedia has been understood over time, but also her own lifelong struggle with acedia. The one area in Norris' life where she didn't experience acedia was in her marriage; she was fully committed to her husband and the commitment she made to him through everything: manic-depressive disorder, a suicide attempt, and very serious illnesses for the last several years of his life.
I can't say I've ever experience acedia, but after I read this quote my eyes filled with tears and I had to put the book down. I know only too well what Norris is talking about...and most especially now, at this time of the year. Five years ago on August 25th my first baby was stillborn at term and last year on August 21st I had a miscarriage. Five years ago today I lived in the world of "giddy wonder of romance". Martyrdom or obedience or discipline were not words I would have used to describe our marriage after only two and half years.
Now, I understand.
Burying our baby, sticking together through grief, surviving our pain, figuring out our new "normal", finding the courage to try again, learning to be parents, finding the courage to try yet again, saying goodbye to another baby, and most recently moving across the continent for a ministry position...
I understand obedience in marriage not as "yes, dear" to my husband, but "Yes, Lord" to the vow I made and staying true when times are tough. I understand discipline through the practice of saying "Yes" to marriage and life and hope, but also by saying "Yes" to Christ even on the days when I didn't want to. I understand martyrdom not as being put to death for my faith, but as dying to myself, my wants, my dreams, and my plans because God has different vision for me and my life.
The above quote is from the book Acedia & me: A Marriage, Monks, and A Writer's Life by Kathleen Norris. It's a great read about the little discussed/known sin of acedia which is spiritual sloth or apathy. She explores the history of how acedia has been understood over time, but also her own lifelong struggle with acedia. The one area in Norris' life where she didn't experience acedia was in her marriage; she was fully committed to her husband and the commitment she made to him through everything: manic-depressive disorder, a suicide attempt, and very serious illnesses for the last several years of his life.
I can't say I've ever experience acedia, but after I read this quote my eyes filled with tears and I had to put the book down. I know only too well what Norris is talking about...and most especially now, at this time of the year. Five years ago on August 25th my first baby was stillborn at term and last year on August 21st I had a miscarriage. Five years ago today I lived in the world of "giddy wonder of romance". Martyrdom or obedience or discipline were not words I would have used to describe our marriage after only two and half years.
Now, I understand.
Burying our baby, sticking together through grief, surviving our pain, figuring out our new "normal", finding the courage to try again, learning to be parents, finding the courage to try yet again, saying goodbye to another baby, and most recently moving across the continent for a ministry position...
I understand obedience in marriage not as "yes, dear" to my husband, but "Yes, Lord" to the vow I made and staying true when times are tough. I understand discipline through the practice of saying "Yes" to marriage and life and hope, but also by saying "Yes" to Christ even on the days when I didn't want to. I understand martyrdom not as being put to death for my faith, but as dying to myself, my wants, my dreams, and my plans because God has different vision for me and my life.
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Are you a disciple?
Thanks to a new co-worker I have a very long reading list now (and it's AWESOME!). Most of the list has grown through conversations usually going something like this:
"Oh, have you read this book/heard of this author?"
And, the response of the mom of a 3 year old has been, "Uhhhh....no."
The first book on the list was Forming Intentional Disciples. If you are in ministry or volunteering at your parish or thinking "where are the excited Catholics?" then you must read this book.
The book is incredible and answered a lot of questions, however, it's a little depressing as well. I'm a freak about the Catholic faith - I love it! I love Jesus, I love the Church, I love the liturgy, I love theology. This pretty much has made me a freak for a long time now and I've gotten used to it. Yet, it's also pretty sad because there's a very small contingent of Catholics who are Jesus freaks - and I mean that in the best possible way.
Every year the Church loses people to evangelical Protestant churches because they have more fire in their hearts than Catholics do when it comes to Jesus. They're not afraid to talk about Jesus, but if you mention Jesus to an everyday Catholic they get a little scared. If you're one of those Catholics, then please ask yourself why does talking about Jesus make you nervous and share in the comments section.
Every Christian should be a disciple, but the sad thing is, not too many of us are in the Catholic Church. Why? Jesus is THE rock star of the universe...and dang it, he is worth talking about! Jesus, Emmanuel, God with us, the Prince of Peace, the Son of God (that's just a sampling of his titles), we should't be nervous or shy or worried or scared to talk about Him. We need to proclaim Him with our lives, but we also need to proclaim Him with our mouths.
"Oh, have you read this book/heard of this author?"
And, the response of the mom of a 3 year old has been, "Uhhhh....no."
The first book on the list was Forming Intentional Disciples. If you are in ministry or volunteering at your parish or thinking "where are the excited Catholics?" then you must read this book.
The book is incredible and answered a lot of questions, however, it's a little depressing as well. I'm a freak about the Catholic faith - I love it! I love Jesus, I love the Church, I love the liturgy, I love theology. This pretty much has made me a freak for a long time now and I've gotten used to it. Yet, it's also pretty sad because there's a very small contingent of Catholics who are Jesus freaks - and I mean that in the best possible way.
Every year the Church loses people to evangelical Protestant churches because they have more fire in their hearts than Catholics do when it comes to Jesus. They're not afraid to talk about Jesus, but if you mention Jesus to an everyday Catholic they get a little scared. If you're one of those Catholics, then please ask yourself why does talking about Jesus make you nervous and share in the comments section.
Every Christian should be a disciple, but the sad thing is, not too many of us are in the Catholic Church. Why? Jesus is THE rock star of the universe...and dang it, he is worth talking about! Jesus, Emmanuel, God with us, the Prince of Peace, the Son of God (that's just a sampling of his titles), we should't be nervous or shy or worried or scared to talk about Him. We need to proclaim Him with our lives, but we also need to proclaim Him with our mouths.
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
My life reduced to 6'x7'x8'
No...I'm not in prison. The long title of this blog should be: My life reduced to 6'x7'x8', a Hyundai Elantra Touring, and a rooftop bag.
On June 7th I got a phone call from Bishop Edward Burns of the Diocese of Juneau, Alaska and I was offered the position of Executive Director of the Shrine of St. Therese. From that point forward life got a little crazy!
My husband and I sold off or gave away most of our belongings. Even my son had to part with toys and books in order to make this move - and he was a trooper. My theology book collection was reduced to the essentials. I even had to leave behind my glider (rocking chair). In the space of three weeks we packed boxes, had a garage sale, I flew to Juneau to meet the Diocesan staff and the Shrine staff, we packed a very small pod, drove from Southaven, Mississippi to Prince Rupert, British Columbia, Canada, and spent a day and a half on a ferry to Juneau. We arrived on June 28th and I started work on July 1st.
I had been praying for weeks and weeks that I would get this position, but didn't want to blog about it. Juneau seems to be heaven on earth for us.
Many people have asked if I've had second thoughts about this. And my answer is: not a one. Everything fell into place and I can see the fingerprints of God all over the place.
Please check out the Shrine website and Facebook page:
http://www.shrineofsainttherese.org/
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Shrine-of-St-Therese/483369845080958
On June 7th I got a phone call from Bishop Edward Burns of the Diocese of Juneau, Alaska and I was offered the position of Executive Director of the Shrine of St. Therese. From that point forward life got a little crazy!
My husband and I sold off or gave away most of our belongings. Even my son had to part with toys and books in order to make this move - and he was a trooper. My theology book collection was reduced to the essentials. I even had to leave behind my glider (rocking chair). In the space of three weeks we packed boxes, had a garage sale, I flew to Juneau to meet the Diocesan staff and the Shrine staff, we packed a very small pod, drove from Southaven, Mississippi to Prince Rupert, British Columbia, Canada, and spent a day and a half on a ferry to Juneau. We arrived on June 28th and I started work on July 1st.
I had been praying for weeks and weeks that I would get this position, but didn't want to blog about it. Juneau seems to be heaven on earth for us.
Many people have asked if I've had second thoughts about this. And my answer is: not a one. Everything fell into place and I can see the fingerprints of God all over the place.
Please check out the Shrine website and Facebook page:
http://www.shrineofsainttherese.org/
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Shrine-of-St-Therese/483369845080958
Thursday, May 16, 2013
The Worm of Worry
Worry is such an easy thing to give into, especially if you are worried about important things...employment, paying the bills, care of your children or spouse. Wait a second...Jesus said something about not worrying...
"For this reason I say to you, do not be worried about your life, as to what you will eat or what you will drink ; nor for your body, as to what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?...And who of you by being worried can add a single hour to his life?...Do not worry then, saying, 'What will we eat?' or 'What will we drink?' or 'What will wear for clothing?' But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." (read the whole passage: Matthew 6:25-34)
This is when I want to say to Jesus, "Uh, yeah...right! You're God and You've got everything that You need. I'm a lowly human and my husband might lose his job and then how will we provide for our basic needs and take care of our son and...(and on and on it goes)." Before I know it, I've pushed Christ out the picture and I'm convinced that my worry will save the day. That's when Jesus says to me, "Uh, yeah...right!"
Last year I (was an idiot) and worked myself into a frenzy over worrying about my husband's employment. His department was cut due to budget constraints and I frantically worried about what we would do. Did the worry help me? Not a bit! I was (as they say in the South) a HOT MESS and my anxiety was through the roof. During the last week of the school year he found out his department had been saved. It was hard to be happy because my worry had consumed me. It took a long time to shake it.
This year I've tried not to get into a frenzy and thus far I have been pretty successful. The district is going through a merger and the future is uncertain, but what is the point in worrying? I certainly didn't had an hour to my life with all the worrying I did last year, in fact, I probably decreased the length of my life. Worry is like a worm. The more it eats, the more it grows, and the more space it takes up in your heart.
Imagine something like this eating it's way through your heart and it only gets bigger and bigger and bigger. There is less room in your heart for love or obedience to Christ or fun because your heart is being eaten by worry. YIKES!!!
If you have a worm of worry, pray that the worry be removed from your heart. Then (and this is very important), humbly ask that God fill that space with His concerns, what people or things does He want you to pray for: widows, orphans, end of abortions, civic leaders, etc. Isn't that replacing one worry for another? No, not if God is the one who puts these concerns in your heart. Then, your prayer will be guided by the Holy Spirit to pray for people or things that need prayer. And, that's way better than the Worm of Worry.
"For this reason I say to you, do not be worried about your life, as to what you will eat or what you will drink ; nor for your body, as to what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?...And who of you by being worried can add a single hour to his life?...Do not worry then, saying, 'What will we eat?' or 'What will we drink?' or 'What will wear for clothing?' But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." (read the whole passage: Matthew 6:25-34)
This is when I want to say to Jesus, "Uh, yeah...right! You're God and You've got everything that You need. I'm a lowly human and my husband might lose his job and then how will we provide for our basic needs and take care of our son and...(and on and on it goes)." Before I know it, I've pushed Christ out the picture and I'm convinced that my worry will save the day. That's when Jesus says to me, "Uh, yeah...right!"
Last year I (was an idiot) and worked myself into a frenzy over worrying about my husband's employment. His department was cut due to budget constraints and I frantically worried about what we would do. Did the worry help me? Not a bit! I was (as they say in the South) a HOT MESS and my anxiety was through the roof. During the last week of the school year he found out his department had been saved. It was hard to be happy because my worry had consumed me. It took a long time to shake it.
This year I've tried not to get into a frenzy and thus far I have been pretty successful. The district is going through a merger and the future is uncertain, but what is the point in worrying? I certainly didn't had an hour to my life with all the worrying I did last year, in fact, I probably decreased the length of my life. Worry is like a worm. The more it eats, the more it grows, and the more space it takes up in your heart.
The Worm of Worry
Imagine something like this eating it's way through your heart and it only gets bigger and bigger and bigger. There is less room in your heart for love or obedience to Christ or fun because your heart is being eaten by worry. YIKES!!!
If you have a worm of worry, pray that the worry be removed from your heart. Then (and this is very important), humbly ask that God fill that space with His concerns, what people or things does He want you to pray for: widows, orphans, end of abortions, civic leaders, etc. Isn't that replacing one worry for another? No, not if God is the one who puts these concerns in your heart. Then, your prayer will be guided by the Holy Spirit to pray for people or things that need prayer. And, that's way better than the Worm of Worry.
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Baby clothes
Today I did something hard. Really hard. I've prayed for years that this day would not come, but it did. In the storage room I had bin of brand new baby girl clothes, toys, and decor. Since the day my daughter was stillborn nearly 5 years ago I have prayed that I would not have to give them away unused. This morning I packed them up and gave them to a friend who recently had her 14th child.
Why did I do it? Why not just continue to hang on to them? It's not like we've given up on trying to have another baby. God willing, there will be another little Darr (oh, and btw God, I'm hoping for a girl). What's another couple years?
It was time.
It was time to let go of these adorable little clothes and let an adorable little baby wear them.
It was time to stop thinking of them as Keenan's clothes. Keenan, sadly, didn't get to wear them and if we're blessed with a little girl she will deserve her own clothes. A little girl does not need to live in the shadow of her dead sister.
It was time to stop worrying about using the clothes.
It was time to let go of the final "things" I had to connect me to Keenan. After all, it's just stuff. Keenan is hanging out with the Beatific Vision, singing with the angles and saints, and is certainly not thinking about a box of clothes in the attic.
There were a few blessings out of all this. First, every single piece will be the perfect size at the right time for my friend's little girl.
Second, the youngest child in a big family will get to wear brand new clothes. No hand me downs for this mini-fashionista.
Finally, maybe it seems silly to hang on to unworn baby clothes. What's the big deal? I have plenty of clothes that my son didn't get a chance to wear in those days that he grew like a weed and I'll probably sell them in a garage sale next week without remorse. But, when a baby dies, it's different. Every single thing that would have "belonged" to that baby becomes sacred in some way. Each item is revered as "the baby's". The truth of the matter, those things don't actually matter, it's just stuff. What matters is how much I love her and miss her and not what outfit she would have worn. Today was about letting go of stuff, but not letting go of her.
Why did I do it? Why not just continue to hang on to them? It's not like we've given up on trying to have another baby. God willing, there will be another little Darr (oh, and btw God, I'm hoping for a girl). What's another couple years?
It was time.
It was time to let go of these adorable little clothes and let an adorable little baby wear them.
It was time to stop thinking of them as Keenan's clothes. Keenan, sadly, didn't get to wear them and if we're blessed with a little girl she will deserve her own clothes. A little girl does not need to live in the shadow of her dead sister.
It was time to stop worrying about using the clothes.
It was time to let go of the final "things" I had to connect me to Keenan. After all, it's just stuff. Keenan is hanging out with the Beatific Vision, singing with the angles and saints, and is certainly not thinking about a box of clothes in the attic.
There were a few blessings out of all this. First, every single piece will be the perfect size at the right time for my friend's little girl.
Second, the youngest child in a big family will get to wear brand new clothes. No hand me downs for this mini-fashionista.
Finally, maybe it seems silly to hang on to unworn baby clothes. What's the big deal? I have plenty of clothes that my son didn't get a chance to wear in those days that he grew like a weed and I'll probably sell them in a garage sale next week without remorse. But, when a baby dies, it's different. Every single thing that would have "belonged" to that baby becomes sacred in some way. Each item is revered as "the baby's". The truth of the matter, those things don't actually matter, it's just stuff. What matters is how much I love her and miss her and not what outfit she would have worn. Today was about letting go of stuff, but not letting go of her.
Thursday, March 7, 2013
The internal 3 year old
I try to have quiet prayer time early in the morning - after my husband goes to work and before anyone else wakes. Most days my little guy wakes up around 6:24 am; the kid has one accurate internal clock. Somedays I'm really lucky and he sleeps until 7:00 am.
Usually when he wakes up he comes and says good morning to me and I walk him back to his room, "It's too early to be up and running around. Nanny and Papa are still sleeping." I also have to add "and don't come out of your room until I come get you." Some mornings he's great and plays in his room, other mornings he's a nut running in and out of his room, calling for me, and my prayer time consists of short bursts of "God help me."
For whatever reason, the other day I told him he could stay with me during my quiet prayer. "You can either lay on the couch quietly or you can sit in my lap." He chose to lay on the couch. After 5 minutes of endless shifting and talking to me, I picked him up and sat him in my lap.
He relaxed as soon as I set him in my lap and snuggled into me. "It's time to be very quiet and still. Mommy's going to pray and you can say your prayers to Jesus." I closed my eyes and listened to him as he whispered his prayers. It was very sweet and I thought, I'm not doing too bad at this Mommy thing.
Then...a small whisper..."Excuse me, Mommy." I decided to keep my eyes closed and try to focus. A small hand reached up and stroked my face accompanied by an emphatic whisper, "Excuse me, Mommy."
I opened my eyes, "Yes, what is it?"
This apparently was an invitation to a waterfall of questions and observations and squirminess. And then it dawned on me...I joke around about having a hamster wheel for a brain, but really, when I pray I'm more like a 3 year old sitting in the lap of the Lord. Constantly chattering, pointing out bright shiny things, asking questions, squirming, daydreaming, all the while trying to be still and present. I couldn't get upset with him because I was too busy laughing at myself.
Finally, the 3 year old in my lap settled down and the 3 year old in my head quieted down. We got 2 solid minutes of stillness and it was a lovely way to start the day.
Usually when he wakes up he comes and says good morning to me and I walk him back to his room, "It's too early to be up and running around. Nanny and Papa are still sleeping." I also have to add "and don't come out of your room until I come get you." Some mornings he's great and plays in his room, other mornings he's a nut running in and out of his room, calling for me, and my prayer time consists of short bursts of "God help me."
For whatever reason, the other day I told him he could stay with me during my quiet prayer. "You can either lay on the couch quietly or you can sit in my lap." He chose to lay on the couch. After 5 minutes of endless shifting and talking to me, I picked him up and sat him in my lap.
He relaxed as soon as I set him in my lap and snuggled into me. "It's time to be very quiet and still. Mommy's going to pray and you can say your prayers to Jesus." I closed my eyes and listened to him as he whispered his prayers. It was very sweet and I thought, I'm not doing too bad at this Mommy thing.
Then...a small whisper..."Excuse me, Mommy." I decided to keep my eyes closed and try to focus. A small hand reached up and stroked my face accompanied by an emphatic whisper, "Excuse me, Mommy."
I opened my eyes, "Yes, what is it?"
This apparently was an invitation to a waterfall of questions and observations and squirminess. And then it dawned on me...I joke around about having a hamster wheel for a brain, but really, when I pray I'm more like a 3 year old sitting in the lap of the Lord. Constantly chattering, pointing out bright shiny things, asking questions, squirming, daydreaming, all the while trying to be still and present. I couldn't get upset with him because I was too busy laughing at myself.
Finally, the 3 year old in my lap settled down and the 3 year old in my head quieted down. We got 2 solid minutes of stillness and it was a lovely way to start the day.
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