One Year Later...

 We are fastly approaching the one year mark of the two week pause of Covid 19 and as we approach this monumental moment, I am filled with both hope and heartache.  Hope in the fact that my faith has taken a decidedly new turn to Jesus, but heartache in what I still see before me. 

One year ago today I was about to celebrate my 47th birthday.  I could see what was coming and I was already prepping (as was all of Western New York it seemed, at least at my grocery stores...) Toilet paper, meat, chicken, cheese, bread, bread FLOUR, was literally MIA and for weeks we wondered silently if it wasn't just the corona virus that would kill us all, but our selfish desires to not run out of food.... 

To say it was a trying time is an understatement.  For those who have never lived through such chaos with a large family, the burden to make sure my family wouldn't either starve to death, or not be able to wipe their butts, was almost as traumatic for my husband and I.  We tried everything to find toilet paper and meat (because of course, we were almost out of our yearly supply of beef from the cow we purchase.)

Imagine trying to plan a meal for 10 people three times a day seven days a week for what started out as two weeks, and eventually led to months and months of closure and no work.

And fear.  Fear.  FEAR.  So much fear.  I lost myself a bit during those times.  I am only speaking for myself, and perhaps I should of clarified that at the beginning so that no one thinks I am condemning or shaming anyone.  We all have to come to terms with our fears and that is something I believe we can wrestle with our entire lives.  But the fear was very real and intense at the beginning.  No one understood how this virus spread.  We would hear of people who never went out ever who contracted it.  We heard of people riding in the same car who got sick.  It was enough to make anyone's anxiety go through the roof.  And it really reminded me (looking back of course) how easy it is to say one thing, believe one way and when faced with the trauma, event, etc, do something completely different.  My husband has always said, "An abnormal reaction to an abnormal situation is normal..."

We were locked out of churches.  Couldn't buy clothing at the stores.  Malls were closed.  Restaurants were closed.  Since one of my daughters had a compromised immunity, my husband was working from home for the better part of a month.  (We have since discovered, she most likely could tough out the virus if we get it.) It was a very difficult time for everyone.  We watched as the other side of the state was literally in a war zone of people dying by the hundreds daily.  It was surreal. 

But as the months wore on, and more was discovered, we began to adapt as only humans can and have done since the beginning of time.  We adapted and over came.  I even had my mammogram in May (we hopefully are doing better about all of our annual visits that are desperately needed for prevention).  Life was starting to open up in the world.  My husband went back to work (honestly, not sure how he could do his job from home... ;) ) My children went back to work in public and we told them be cautious.  For the first few months back at work, I washed their clothing daily and made them shower as soon as they got home.... (don't even ask me now- I'm lucky if some of them bathe daily anymore....)

It was still a tense time, but churches opened back up in our area (praise Jesus) and we finally got to go receive Him in the Eucharist.  

It was such a brutal time for my children, though.  I don't think we will recover as a nation, or world really, over what we did to our children.  And in some places are still doing to them. To give some back history on what I mean by this if it doesn't make sense:  I had the awesome privilege when I first graduated from college for working for the YMCA at the Salvation Army.  We opened a child care facility actually at the Salvation Army for moms who were trying to get back on their feet again and also for all the transient families who found themselves suddenly staying at the homeless shelter.  It was both rewarding and heartbreaking, but it brought to light the fact that a majority of our children in our country are very close if not living in less than desirable situations. Fast forward to today and one doesn't have to go very far to hear stories about inner cities who have all but lost a great majority of their kids online for school to realize this.  Even in the district I live in, there are stories of children who are not present.  Online, or physically.  It's heartbreaking.  I know homeschooling is an amazing option for so many, I am presently doing that for my younger ones-but the reality is, not everyone has that capability, nor the resources or ability to home school.  And that is just a fact.  

The mental anguish some struggled with, the emotional anguish some struggled with, the giving up attitude some struggled with, was very hard as a parent to watch.  Ricky and I cheerleaded often and we tried to be as positive an influence as we could.  It was sometimes very hard to balance the concerns of the world in our minds with what our eyes were seeing in our children, but we tried desperately to give them such positive love and comfort.  It definitely had it's moments, games we ordered, tennis in the street, 200 pieces of chalk that had only four colors, hiking with half of western New York at local places (since there were no bathrooms open, we had to keep it close for a certain mom of many and her tiny bladder).  All the puzzles we worked, the bread we baked.  The cinnamon rolls we learned how to make.  The sour dough starter that's still kicking today.  

Eventually we realized that life needed to begin to move on.  People were being safe, but the message was still doom and gloom.  All summer long, my kids visited friends, worked, played sports, and we visited family.  We tried to live as much as we could.  Restrictions were put in place to make some things more difficult, but we tried to make the best of a ridiculous situation.  The fall brought about more closures and suddenly we were once again being pelted, no, slammed with "we aren't doing enough to fight this virus." 

It was quite maddening how the news manipulates us to believe it's our fault.  And what was more depressing, was listening to the people who believed it.  

It all brought something to mind as I began to question my own sanity and wondered if I was the only person who couldn't figure out WHO decided Covid was not going to be the cause of death for us.  What planet were we on that we suddenly got to pick what would be the cause of our demise.  I was always led to believe we didn't really know when, how, or what we would be the cause of our death, but we had to live and live for Jesus.  That's not what I was seeing anymore.  I was seeing people afraid to be near one another.  Even healthy people afraid of each other.  Conditioned to believe everyone can spread this unbeknownst to one another.  The Eucharist dropped from above, things handed to another in a plastic container.  No paper at school because covid.  Books must sit for 96 hours, because of covid.  It was, is, crazy the things we have witnessed in the name of safety. 

Now I can already hear the one who thinks I've gone too far.  AMY- this was and is prudent because we MUST save grandma.  I can honestly tell anyone who says that to me that if we really cared about grandma- we would've been like the protests last year (that went on largely during massive outbreaks but were told they weren't super spreaders....) and marched right to Albany and demanded our governor be removed for what he did to our nursing homes.   And that's all I'll say about that. 

Scripture is always something I like to turn to when I'm struggling with humanity.  And a few Sundays ago, the gospel reading should of smacked every.single.Catholic in the face.  It was the sixth Sunday of Ordinary time and it was the Sunday before Ash Wednesday.  The gospel was from Mark chapter 1 verses 40-45.  It was the leper who came up to Jesus and knelt before him and begged him to make him clean.   Jesus was 'moved with pity, stretched out his hand, touched him, and said to him, 'I do will it.  Be made clean.'"

Now the gist of that story was that Jesus had told him not to tell anyone and to go show himself to his priest and offer his cleansing for what Moses prescribed.  But the man told everyone and Jesus was no longer able to go anywhere without being followed.  But did you get what happened with Jesus and the leper? Jesus TOUCHED the leper. Leprosy was bad during that time.  So bad, people were not allowed to go certain places.  Were banned from public.  No one dared touch them.  If you are familiar with the Saints, St. Damian of Molokai, went to live with the lepers on Molokai to take care of them.  He eventually contracted the disease and died.  His story is quite remarkable and I encourage you to find it.  But his story along with this one, reminds me of what we as Christians have sometimes forgotten.  We were not called for a life of comfort and safety.  Perhaps, quite the opposite if we really believe in what it means to be a true follower of Christ.  It's no mistake that all but one apostle died a martyr.   Jesus made it abundantly clear that to follow Him was not going to be easy.  We can easily put ourselves in a bubble and pretend we are outside looking in at the past and think that things are different now.  They are not.  And while we might not be in third world countries serving some of the neediest, poorest, sickest people in the world, being at home during a pandemic, might be as close to becoming missionaries as some of us will ever come.  Jesus TOUCHED the leper. 

And have we really decided that is not what is happening?  Did we decide that we would not become victim to this virus and would at all cost separate ourselves from one another?  We were not made for isolation.  We were not made for online learning either (and that is a story for another day). Are we really that afraid of one another that we shudder when someone puts their hand out?  We mask, we use way too much hand sanitizer (to be honest, I've stopped using so much of that because it's really not good for us.)  Y'ALL...Jesus TOUCHED a leper. Did you see that?  Did you read again?

I don't want to die.  My human self decided long ago that I love life and I love my family and I love my husband dearly.  But God did not design it that way.  And if we loved Jesus the way we should love Jesus, we would understand that more deeply.   I am reading a really good book about St. Elizabeth of the Trinity and listening to a podcast about it, and the ladies this week spoke about how marriage and the chaste life are a glimpse of what Heaven is like.  It's a bit more than I care to type out, Abiding Together Podcast is easily searched, but the gist was that in marriage, the husband and wife have a love that resembles the love of God of His people, unconditional and unwavering.  The religious life sacrifices that bond of love to give their love and life completely over to Jesus.  Knowing that one day they will be with God and will feel that love.  But the point that I feel was being made is that, this life was made to be temporary.  Our goal should always be Heaven.  God did not make us to live in this world forever.  Heaven is the ultimate love beyond any Earthly comprehension. He made us to be with Him in Heaven for eternity. It SHOULD be the goal of each and every one of us.  And we let shiny objects distract us from that goal often.  Remember what I've said, Jesus touched the leper. 

Just like we let scary pandemics distract us from that goal as well.  How many people died of the Spanish flu?  The bubonic plague?  How many babies died because of Herod's fear of Jesus?  The American Heart Association says 655,000 people die each year from cardiovascular disease. Experts predict over 600,000 will die of cancer this year.  We are human and our human hearts forget that death is imminent.  My husband and I discuss death a lot.  With his job, it's sometimes impossible to avoid.  He takes risks not everyone takes and it requires us to always be in check with our lives.  He always tells us that when he dies, he wants us to remember that he lived a great life.  He had the best job, he had an amazing marriage (he really says that... ;) ), and he loved his children dearly.  He tells us that all the time.  He gets it.  He also doesn't want to lose any of us, or miss out on things of this earth.  But he knows this life is extremely temporary compared with the next.  

We have let fear guide us and make us think we must do everything humanly possible to live as long as we can.  We are avoiding living by doing this in some regard.  I can't begin to list the amount of people I've spoken with who claim our lives will get better with a vaccine.  But will they? Are we that afraid of death?  

Do you want to know what I think?  

I think the one thing we truly need to be doing, is praying for more faith.  Asking Jesus how we can grow less in fear and more in faith.  A mustard seed is super tiny.  

Jesus was very explicit in Matthew 17:20.  "If you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, 'move from here to there,' and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you."

Did you read that?  Read it again.  

Faith in knowing that God has every aspect of your life.  Faith in knowing that God is the author of life and if we don't start living like we believe that, well, I don't know about you, but the 10 plagues He brought about to the Egyptians makes me think we might want to start living like we believe.  I'm not saying He's going to bring plagues if we don't straighten up our ways, but the Old Testament is full of things that make me think it isn't impossible.  

I hate Covid.  I hate whatever sinful nature brought it to this point.  Whether someone experimented with bats or ate them, something doesn't smell right.  But what I am trying to understand is perhaps this mess this last year was brought about to bring us closer to our Lord and the understanding that we are not immortal and many of us missed that.  Perhaps we were supposed to grow in longing for the loss of the Eucharist and the sacraments, but instead, we grew accustomed to not going to Church and not receiving Jesus. Instead of longing for Jesus, we grew farther and farther away from Him.  One just has to look at churches that are open right now to see that.  When things started opening back up, did we put our faith as a priority?  Or did we go back to the shiny distractions?  Don't get me wrong, I love things getting back to normal, but I see more than ever the reminder that death is one pandemic, one diagnosis, one loss away, so the normal for me, will never exclude Jesus.  Or the Eucharist.  Satan is master of disguises, friends.  I've told you before, he wraps sin up in pretty packages and makes them very enticing.  "Even Satan disguises himself as an angel of light" (2 Cor. 11:14).

Let us pray and remember that Jesus touched the leper.  

If there is one thing I've learn.....

It's that I don't know a whole lot.

But I'm getting older and I've been trying to really be present lately where ever I am and I've been trying to watch people more intently, too.  Especially here at home and out and about when I'm running errands.

What have I've noticed?

We're missing a whole lot.  We're missing little things.  We're missing things that might be little, but are incredibly profound in the same breath.

For example, I was so busy last weekend.  My husband had taken one of my daughters to her volleyball tournament two states over and I was all alone, my older dependable kids working, so I had little time to get all the things I needed to get done, one was dropping off some of the posters/flyers/tickets for a sweet lady who was visiting her sister at a nursing home in the area.  I kept thinking I had zero time to do this drop off, I needed to get my 16 yo to work and one of my little ones was home with a fever...just so much...

But I ventured out and went to the nursing home and what happened for the next 20 minutes was nothing short of a tiny signal grace from our great Lord.  (He's like that, you know.  He won't always show His grace so obviously, sometimes, it's so small, you really have to stop to see it...)
I sat in the lobby with this woman, who turns out is 76 and her sister she was seeing was 96.  She visits her and her other sister who is in another nursing home across town as often as she can, while she's not helping her son with his daughter.  Her brother (who is a young 93) visits them both weekly.  We chatted a while and we discussed the conference.  We realized we had mutual friends and lamented the state of our world and she said my youngest would be taking care of my oldest just like was doing to her oldest siblings....

I left and was completely blown away by the amount of wisdom I was just privy to.  How many of us miss those moments?  I know I do. More often than not.

I returned home and got the younger ones to bed and was reading in my room when I came out and glanced over the balcony and saw several of my children, glued to their devices.  I suggested they get off and talk with each other.... You can guess what that was met with....

Several days later, I found myself at my mammogram appointment. A sweet looking elderly lady sat in the next row over and she was alone.  I had just registered and sat down and watched her.  She was just looking around and seemed to be absorbing everything.  The ultrasound tech came out and called her name and she struggled to stand.  I witnessed a beautiful moment as the tech walked over and helped her up and chatted with her as if it was no big deal to help her up as the women apologized for needing help.  I felt a lump grow in my throat.  But another voice spoke at that time in my heart and I realize now who was speaking to my heart.

She said, "You need to slow down, Amy."

At the time, I chalked it up to my inside voice that is constantly talking... you know that voice.  The one that sometimes is not so nice to you, the one that tells you to hurry, or reasons and rationalizes anything and everything......

That voice I heard in my heart that day was my grandma Grace's voice.  I remember visiting her while I was in high school or college or even when I had little babies and she would always tell me I needed to slow down.  Of course I thought she was just silly thinking I was moving too fast....I knew I was doing exactly what i needed to be doing and wasn't doing it too fast!  I was creating memories and working and filling my life with all that was important!  My grandma just didn't understand!

Sitting in that waiting room, it didn't quite hit me yet, but I was suddenly facing a moment of serious reflection that would hit me pretty hard.

We are so busy. We are so busy filling every single second of our lives with something that we are all missing out on the little, peace filled, grace filled moments.  And it's only getting worse.  I looked around that waiting room and it was fairly full, but what I noticed was the same thing I've noticed every where I go.  People are staring at that little black box.... scrolling with one finger while the rest of the world spins in real life all around them.  Do they notice?  Do they hear the woman who walks up to the counter ask where where another doctors office is and do they see the receptionist point her the right way when she looked confused at first?  Do they see the lady with the baby who came in and sat down?  What a cute baby it was!  Sound asleep, completely oblivious to world...

Those two moments, the nursing home and the woman helping the other, brought me huge waves of both sadness and fear- one for the fact that despite my best efforts, I'm getting old and one day, God willing, I'll be that little old lady in the waiting room.  I'm sure with my arthritis as bad as it is at 46, it will be quite trying in my 70's or 80's.  That scares me some, but what I fear most, is the people around me not being present.  Not because of loss, but because we have become so absorbed in everything going on outside our own little world that we miss a lot of what is going on right next door.  And it's not just the phones and the internet.  It's us.  It's us forgetting what is most important in life.

Most believers have a fairly good idea that this life isn't the be all end all.  We understand that this life is so brief compared with our life in Eternity.  The bible speaks of this.  But sometimes I think, and I'm just as guilty if not more, that we can begin to believe that this is it.  This is all there is and if we don't fill every single second with movement, then we will live a life less than what we could...
I'm not doubting busying ourselves is necessarily a bad thing, I'm doubting that it is the best thing for us.  Is this what God called us to be?  The busiest people on the planet? Constantly going from point A to point Z and stopping at 23 places in between... (sorry-I had to :) )

I once met a woman who had a few less children than I did (I know, that's not saying a lot...haha) and she seemed to be really faith filled and raised her kiddos similarly to how I did, and once I admitted that my children attended the public school in our area (keep in mind, my children attended Catholic schools where we moved from, but my outrageous 5 digit taxes prevent us from doing that here) she almost immediately changed her tune and when I left that group I was at, I knew she would never be contacting me for a play date.  She had already lumped me into the "not gonna be my friend" club, simply because I wasn't either homeschooling or sending my kids to Catholic schools.  I brooded over that for a long time, I was upset that someone would judge me and make assumptions about me and my children, simply because of my education choices....but looking back on that now?  I see how it's all a part of the bigger problem.

We are busy.  We are looking for the perfect people to be with.  We are putting people into the boxes we want them in.  We claim we don't judge as we judge.  We are constantly searching for something to fill that God size hole in our hearts and believe you me, that God sized hole is real and every.single.one of us suffers with it.  Until we are truly united with Jesus, our Hearts will ALWAYS long for Him.  And most of us, me included, don't spend enough time trying to find Him.  Trying to seek Him out.  And not just in times of distress (which is my most favorite time to cry out to our Lord isn't it???) but in times of joy, happiness and busyness.

How many of us make it a habit to drink coffee every day?  I would venture to guess if you're like me, you'd get a headache if you didn't.
How many of us make it a habit to scroll through social media every day?  I would venture to guess it's multiple times a day if you're like me.
How many of us make it a habit to eat every day?  I would venture to guess you'd be really hangry if you didn't, like (I'm the worlds WORST faster.... Jeff Cavins does a great impression of people like me who fast.... ask me about it...it's absolutely hysterical...)

We have habits we do every single day.  But how many of us make it a habit to pray?  Every day.  Every morning.  Every mid day.  Every evening?  And in between all those?

I started praying the rosary every day for my children almost 2 years ago.  I haven't missed a day yet.  Now, before you go thinking I'm deserving of the World's most Faith Filled Christian Woman award, let me tell you something else- some days?  I rush through it like a mad woman.  You know Vain repetition?  Other Christian denominations accuse us of that when we say we pray the rosary.  WEll, some days?  They are right.  I mindlessly pray through it and I don't meditate on the mysteries of Jesus and I don't focus on the people I am praying for.  I just do it to check it off my list of "things to do today..."  Sound familiar?  We can and do a lot of times box our faith up and add it to a checklist of "things to do...."

But our faith should be something that changes us.  Stretches us.  Pulls us out of the everyday life.  We should be different when we really practice our faith.

When I heard my grandma Grace's voice in my heart, it reminded me of so much.  It reminded me of the days of sitting with her.  Watching her work her crossword puzzles.  Listening to her talk about her siblings.  Her telling me about what it was like with her babies.
It also reminded me that I have been too busy lately.  I've been going and going and going that I'm not stopping to take care of the things closest to me.  My relationships around me.  My children.  My husband.  My friends.

As I sat there at the doctor, I felt like the last 23 years of my married life were a complete blur.  where on earth did 23 years go? How did they go so fast?  How is it that I'm closer to 50 than 40?  When did I stop being 30?  Where did my 20's go?  How did I get to snowland and when did I live in Arkansas?  Where are all the people in my life?  At least Facebook has one positive- I can see and "visit" my dear friends from our old homes.

But time is going so fast.  I've learned that I've wasted a LOT of time trying to do things that I'm not supposed to do.

I've learned I need to slow down.  I need to not be in such a hurry.  I need to stop and listen to the 2 year old when she says my name over and over.  I need to listen to the 11 year old when she's telling me about her day. I've learned when I see someone who needs help, I need to help them. I've learned I need to sit down.  Breathe deeply.  Close my eyes.  Let silence enter my world for a while.  I've learned I need to detox from my phone often. I've learned I need to encourage my children to do the same.  I've learned that we don't all always take the same path, but sometimes our paths cross and sometimes they will never cross and sometimes, our paths are so full of turmoil we think we'll never get off the path.  I've learned that people are hurting. Lots of people.  And they lash out in all kinds of ways.  Addictions, ugly comments, hurtful words, isolation.  I've learned that we are all broken in one way or another and the person who tries to say they aren't, might be the very one who is most.  I've learned that even tho some say they don't need Jesus, they really do need Him and you can see Him surrounding that person who denies it.  I've learned that I am blessed and I do have an amazing life and I do praise and thank Him every day for all the gifts I've been so undeservingly given.  I've learned that a smile or a hug or just a simple compliment can open the floodgates of conversation with someone who just wants to be heard.  I've learned that no matter how much education one has, or book reading, or media studying, you'll never know it all.  I've learned that there is always, ALWAYS something to learn.  I've learned that sometimes, you just need to sit and visit with people when you think you need to be getting things done.

I've learned lots more, but I think you get what I'm getting at.
If there is one thing I've learned?  One nugget to take?  One moment to define? It's that we must always keep our eyes and ears open to those words that might not always be spoken loudly, or even whispered softly, but might be present in a face, a moment witnessed, a smile, or even a beautiful day.  God speaks to us in so many ways.

May we always be open to learning that.....

Changing Seasons....

You may be wondering what you're looking at and why on earth I would make this awkward basement photo of a Sam's club box with a few baby clothing items on top as my lead in to my blog which I haven't even opened for six months...I wonder myself, but rarely do I question when the Spirit moves me to write or prompts me how to start my words.

I'm not the best writer.  I'm not even the best speaker, I've spoken at a number of events and no one is beating down my door to get me to share my stories with them, but.....

I love to story tell.  I LOVE to share my faith.  I absolutely love when the opportunity arises to share moments in my life that I think impact us all.

Since you know I digress like crazy....back to the picture.  I've been slowly but surely going through all of our 'schtuff.'  As you can imagine, a family of 10 tends to accumulate quite a bit o crap.  Not only do we accumulate stuff, but we are really good at destroying the stuff we accumulate.  I often joke about my kids being able to destroy an anvil.  I really mean that....

A steel anvil.  Don't underestimate my kids ability to not destroy this...

So the last few weeks, I've been slowly collecting boxes and boxes of things we no longer use, need to go to the dump because I'm a firm believer in not giving other people my crap, or just will never use and someone could probably benefit from our donation....
It's a slow and painful process now, because I'm on the clothing.  I have so many generous friends who have given us tub loads of clothing.  TUB LOADS.  So, for years, I cull each season and keep what the next child can use (with seven girls, this is very handy having so many girl clothing boxes...)

But...now we've reached a moment in our lives that has for lack of a better word, knocked the breath out of me....

We are in a changing of seasons.... But I don't mean summer to 9 months of winter... I mean, changing from expecting babies often...

I am going to try to write this without bawling like a baby and having my 4 year old and 2 year old become frightened of their old momma sitting at the computer sniffing and snorting as she relays her emotional hormonal life's story......


That box.

Inside that Sam's club box is the last of my baby clothing.  All the burp clothes, little onesies.  Sweet little snowman hat.  Tiny little socks.  The little hand mits for my babies who had razor sharp nails and sliced and diced their faces daily.  Little soft washcloths.  The first outfit my oldest almost 20 year old daughter wore home from the hospital so long ago in Little Rock, Arkansas.  The sweet little frog outfit my 18 year old son wore for his 1 year old picture that Walmart photo studio just happened to have a little green frog to put beside him that matched almost perfectly.

There are hats they wore home from the hospital.  There are sweet "little sister" suits.  Tiny jackets that I still can't believe were ever big enough for my 8+ pound babies.  An entire box of memories right there.  As i loaded each outfit into the box, I felt something I can't explain completely.  I will try, but like I said, I'm not good with words, but maybe you can relate....

With each outfit, I would sigh, remembering the baby who wore it.  Most recently our #8.  But some of these outfits brought back WAVES of memories.  Long nights with baby #3 because she struggled with reflux that always seemed to rare it's ugly head between the hours of 3-5 AM.....

Nervous nights as a first time momma, when I would sit there and literally listen to my oldest breathe wondering if she was breathing "right."  (my super hero hubs would tell you that Children's Hospital of Little Rock made quite a killing on this first time mom and her worrisome self....)

Nights of realizing after sleeping for 7 hours that the boy you thought would never sleep through the night, finally did at 4 months.  This was after spending the first three months crying 24/7.  No lie....

Days of trying to wrestle 5 children in and around the walmart cart as I dutifully tried to balance a newborn and 4 children 5 and under and not make a huge scene getting a few days worth of groceries.   All the while subject to the typical comments common with large families...

"you know how that happens?"  (I think we've figured it out, yes.)

"They make something you can take to stop them from coming..." (no lie- been told that)

"Do you have a tv in your bedroom?"  (are ya kidding me.....)

Pictures of my babies flood my head as I try to remember each one at this age of clothing (0-12 mos) and I am full of love and also, a bit sad. I'm ready to give all these things away.  I've no reason to save them for "the next one."  It's time to be done with this age of clothing. And my heart is sad!

Sad you say?  Well, yes!  For 22 years, my husband and I have been open to life.  Meaning, nothing unnatural stopped us from having babies.  Nothing still does, but we are both older and realizing that while we are open to life, we are feeling the call that we've filled our home with who God wants us to have at this point.  I've always, ALWAYS, felt that baby nudge after each birth, eventually.  And, minus the 4 years of infertility and multiple miscarriages, we've always been open.  Meaning, we didn't set out to have more, but we knew it could happen and if God wanted it to, it was gonna happen.  Especially when I tend to miscount my charts.....

So as I packed away these clothes, my heart hurt.  No more pregnant belly.  No more kicks.  No more hiccups.  No more rubbing on a tiny hand or leg and feeling the baby on the other side push as though she was trying to hold my hand, too.  No more wondering if we'll have a girl or boy- we pretty much figured all girls after four straight....

Sad may not be the right word.  Bittersweet.  I love having babies.  Being pregnant was difficult for me after my four miscarriages.  I always carried hesitation in my heart for the first 20 weeks or so.  I very nearly died after I had my 7th.  But to know that my time to carry babies is now ending, brought about many emotions for me.

I know, I know, I know.  I am too old.  Or, maybe I'm not really done.  Or, don't you care about the planet and overpopulation (let me insert my giant eye roll there, please....)

I have, apparently, a good possible 10 years until full menopause and my husband just turned 50 this week.  God is still in control.  And as much as that drives some people nuts, it's mine and my superhero hubs rule of life.  If we are gonna talk the talk, we must walk the walk.

And boy is that walk hard.

Our lifestyle is anything but "cool" in this day and age.  But how I've loved the last 19 years.  Always looking forward to another milestone of a new baby's birth.  The older ones loving and caring for the baby.  Some of them even praying for more siblings every night.  (others claiming they were adopted and would like to find their adoptive parents.....)

But that box.

It's sitting by itself in my room.  I'm not giving it to the charity that is picking up our things next week.  I'm saving it for a pregnancy center.  I've pulled out the best pieces and tossed the ones I wouldn't put on my own babies, let alone a strangers baby.  I have chosen three outfits out of that entire box to hold on to for a while longer.

One is the outfit I spoke of earlier that my oldest came home in.  There is something about that moment we officially came home with this baby that makes me never want to part with that gown.

Another is the outfit I wrote about that my son wore on his first birthday.  There were very few things he didn't destroy as a rambunctious baby.  Either with spit up or crawling, or just digging and being in dirt.

The last outfit is a dress given to me by one of my aunts.  It's a gap dress and my oldest wore it when she was 6 weeks old and I had about $700 in pictures taken of her in it and my youngest wore it around the same time and I took the pictures myself of her in it.  It too, brings back all 19 years of childbirth/baby time in one fell swoop.

Baby #8 in the dress my #1 wore as well.

Some would say, it shouldn't be so painful.  You should be glad to be done with baby time.  I think sometimes, our guarded hearts say things like that to protect our true thoughts on those things.  I thought I was too old to have Agnes.  I was 44.  But that child has brought us as much, if not more joy than our first because, well honestly, mostly, because we are tired.... haha.  But also, because we aren't so worried about every little thing.  We enjoy them more now.  So when I hear people say, "aren't you glad to be done?" Or, "you're done, right?"  I think it's more self preservation on their part assuring themselves that they have no regrets on their child bearing decisions.  I can't control their words to me, but I can, deep down inside, weep with them as I realize I'll most likely never carry another baby in my womb again.  I have been blessed beyond what I deserve.  I can not thank nor praise my Lord enough for the many blessings in my life.  Even with the crosses, He always has shown me the blessings, too.  He reminds me daily with each gift of life, that He is truly the Author of Life and my superhero hubs and I have participated openly and with very little regret.

So the changing seasons for me is so much more than summer ending and fall starting.  It's about boxing up the past and looking forward to what the future holds.  It's about knowing we are open, but also knowing we must be prudent and proceed with care.  Understanding that we can say we are "done" but know that 'thy will be done...'   It's bittersweet.  And the memories can sustain us, pictures can make us smile and bring a tear to our eyes.  Change is never easy.  But with time, gets better.  Thanks for letting me share this little "secret" with you.  Thanks for letting me be a bit more vulnerable about something I hold so dear to my heart.  And know I am praying for you.  Please pray for me. 

Week 4

Hi.  I haven't blogged in a while and actually decided a few months ago I was done with writing.  But my heart always nags me.  It also nags my children, my husband, my pastor, my friends.....

I might be seeing a pattern here.  But for the sake of preserving myself from brutal honesty, let's stick to my heart nagging me...on a daily basis... shall we?

It's been nagging me to write because writing is something I absolutely love to do and there has been so much on my heart lately.  So, in true Catholicmommaupnorth fashion, this is going to be all over the place.  Maybe if I wrote more regularly, I could stick to a topic...probably not.  Those of you who know me, know I can talk...and talk, and talk and talk........

This is actually me talking to a friend...

So it's the start of the fourth week of Lent.  Is Lent as exciting for anyone else out there as it is for me?  I mean, I may look forward to Lent a little more than the average person and it could be considered odd at best.  Who looks forward to trying to plan six or seven meat free dishes for a family of ten?  Or trying to stick with Lenten sacrifices with said family of ten..... Or trying to just survive Lent with a family of ten....

I am seeing another pattern.  

I love my family of ten. 

I love Lent in a way that doesn't mean I look forward to denying myself and being all scrupulous (I might not even be using that technical term correctly, but what I mean is self torture or self loathing because I'm not worthy and I should be doing things to shame myself into being a better person...)

I love Lent because I need Lent.  I NEED that time of denial, self sacrifice.  Self control.  Slowing down.  Being at Church more.  Reading and really soaking in the word of God.  I have some really great women in my life, one of whom is my 19 year old daughter, who have created a little Lenten Lady's study and it's been a game changer.  We've of course perhaps bitten off more than we can chew each week, but the we all seem up for the challenge, minus the fact I've accidentally had two sweet sodas and a caramel latte from Panera the last week..... sorry ladies....

The struggle is real...

But we are doing a number of challenges and it's been actually really good for my focus.  I tend to see about ten million squirrels a day and honestly, my phone has not helped me with that one bit.  I have a love/hate relationship with my phone because I would LOVE to turn it off for the day, but these pesky humans in my home sometimes need me and I have a fear of missing something important.  See my struggle?  It's real.  But this Lent has been somewhat different.  I haven't abolished the phone entirely, but I have new distractions that are good for me!  

First off, we are doing a book study on one of the best books I've ever read and quite honestly, it's a book I think everyone needs on their nightstand.  It's called, 'Searching for and Maintaining Peace,' by Fr. Jacques Philippe....

Best book EVER...

My friends tend to get annoyed with my comment, "BEST BOOK EVER..."  Ok, I readily admit I'm a 'good Catholic book junkie...'  I wear that title with a tiara and sparkles because in this day and age, there are just some super amazing, inspired by the Holy Spirit writers who have answered the call and answered the call in a HUGE WAY.  Fr. Jacques Philippe is one of them.  This isn't a book you read cover to cover.  It's a book you read sections at a time and listen to the Abiding Together podcast, with Sister Miriam James (can I please bring her to Buffalo and have her speak at our conference?????), Michelle Benzinger, and Heather Khym.

Found on Ascension Presents blogs

They are on the fourth week of the book study and it's been life changing.  To read this book in the smaller sections and really sit and soak in how we let things steal our peace.  It's really opened my own eyes for how I let peace leave me, even sometimes while trying to do good things for God!!  I've really seen how God doesn't want that for me either!  He loves the people in my life more than I love them, so if I'm allowing my peace to be removed, or even stolen, I'm not loving them the way God loves them, or wants me to love them.... WOW.   Just WOW....

I've also been listening to Sonja Corbitt's latest study, Highway to Holiness. Listen, if you don't know who Sonja Corbitt is, I'll try to forgive you, but you need to learn her and her teachings because the woman is changing the way we look at the bible and she's doing it in a beautiful, former protestant turned ON FIRE Catholic way!!  The Holy Spirit is truly guiding her and she is open to where that may lead.  

biblestudyevangelista.com her current study!

I'm also reading her book "Fearless" which is also just jam packed with so much for us women to really take in and take to heart about how the evil one wants to also steal our peace!!

Another BEST BOOK EVER...

I've been reading little bits here and there (remember I said we were taking on Lent like CHAMPS) but I sit with my journal bible and read a few pages and really let the Word soak in and see where I'm letting the demons control my fears and anxieties and call me by my weaknesses.  She's helped me unpack where I need to let go and trust GOD because he is all about love, not fear.  It's been transforming.  Almost as much as her Heal the Father Wounds series, which I highly recommend becoming a friend of the show just to hear that series and listen to it over, and over and over and over.  Because friends....we all have father wounds.  Perhaps caused by fathers, mothers, sisters, cousins, friends, someone in authority, but we all have them.  And we all struggle with our relationship with our mighty God because of those wounds... Alan Hunt wrote a book that was titled, "Everybody Needs to Forgive Somebody..." He was right.  We all have wounds.... But I'm digressing....as usual... :) 

A to the men my dears.....

But getting back to Sonja and her newest study, Highway to Holiness, which is a podcast about where we are as the Body of Christ, in His church, after all the scandal and let me tell you, she has been ON FIRE with this podcast.  The way she addresses where we need to go as a Church and how scandal has been around since the beginning is so helpful.  Especially here in Buffalo, where the scandal has been front and center and most of us cringe when we see a particular reporter and the words, 'Catholic Church,' mentioned on the news... I was struggling with being angry and frustrated but not knowing what to do with that unrest.  But wow has she, in just three podcasts, opened my eyes to what is going on....Plus, it didn't help that I was allowing my peace to be stolen by sending this podcast to everyone I know and actually DEMANDING they listen because it was so powerful and full of great nuggets we all as Catholics could benefit from, some things I've never heard of ever, and the response was......

crickets.....

But God spoke to me in the 'Searching for and Maintaining Peace' book.  He told me to keep sending it to people if it didn't cause me to lose my peace, but that just like the old saying, you can lead a horse to water but you can't make them drink..... you can send fellow Catholics all the amazing Catholic material in the universe (and let me tell you, there is a PLETHORA of materials at our fingertips) but you can't make them read it, watch it, listen to it, buy it, like it, or even care about it.... you.just.can't.  

Well.... you know me.  I'm still gonna ask God, WHY???  I know, He's going to have a doosie of a time when I finally see Heaven and see why, but until then, I love my Jesus, I love my faith, I love my Catholic Church and my heart just breaks into 50 bazillion pieces when I see people not getting it or seeing it, or even wanting it.....

So..... that was a tangent.... I apologize.  No, I don't apologize.  I love Jesus too much to apologize.  We Catholics are pathetic when it comes to knowing our Bible.  For Heaven's sake, we put the darn thing together and we don't give it the time of day....minus Mass and so many people don't even attend Mass regularly, so they aren't even getting the bible once a week anymore....

I am super getting off topic..... Lent.... Lent..... repent..... turn back.....

So we have been having this Lenten Lady study and it's truly been such a blessing to me and my faith journey.  We also are taking some of the ideas from The Fasting Catholic....It's a GREAT website that has some pretty intense ideas about how to have to ultimate Lenten Experience.  Click on the Fasting Catholic to see it! 

Some of the ideas from there are fasting on Wednesdays from meat as well.  Taking shorter showers (I do love my super hot showers....), abstaining from sweets, desserts, soft drinks, alcohol, etc.  It's been TOUGH (hence the Panera Caramel latte....), but do you know what it's been more of?

Refreshing and reassuring.

I still can have mastery over my desires.  I LOVE LENT for this reason.  I was worried about some of the Lenten sacrifices we were being challenged to do.  I come from a history of addiction issues, and to worry whether or not I could 'survive' without some of my desires, gave me a pit in my stomach at first.  Well, minus the falling off the wagon over sugar and caramel lattes, I am relieved that I can discipline myself still after all these years.  It has been reassuring...and taking all of it to prayer and offering it all up for people in our lives has given it an even bigger meaning for me.  My super hero hubs and I both are doing some of the fasting/abstaining together as well and it's been a beautiful few weeks knowing he and I both are offering these 'first world problems' we think are so sometimes hard, for the sufferings of others.... God is so good....

So Lent.  How's your Lent going to so far?  I think we're on day 18 so....still early, but hey- it's NEVER too early or too late to get back up on the horse.  If you've fallen and given in to your sacrifice, get back up.  If you've not prayed much, set that alarm for five minutes earlier and wake up and read the gospel readings.  We are doing a lot more with our Lenten Lady group- but I'll just leave you with this- no sacrifice is too small for God.  He can make good of everything if our hearts are in the right place and our intention is pure.  He loves us, He loves YOU, so much, He will gently lead you and wait patiently as you get back up, every.single.time.  Don't give up on Lent just yet.  It's really just getting going!!!  Let's knock out the next few weeks together, shall we??  :) 

Together we can do it!