Mystical Experiences

I've been thinking about mystical experiences this week. I had an in-person conversation with a friend on Wednesday that has continued via email the past few days. In the process, I've been thinking a lot about some really amazing mystical experiences I had a few years ago.

I was really struggling to understand the miracle of the Real Presence of the Eucharist. Not just to accept it on faith, but to really understand it. I was praying a lot, both in adoration and before/during/after receiving communion. I just wanted to know that what looked like bread and wine was actually Jesus.

My prayers weren't answered right away, and certainly not in the way I had expected. But they were answered, and my faith grew so much deeper as a result. In time, I fell in love with Jesus... completely and totally, head-over-heels in love. And the more I loved Him, the more I needed to be with him. In order to be with Him, I went to mass and adoration more often. The more time I spent in mass and adoration, the more I loved him. (Sort of a Catholic adult version of "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie").

Anyway, this week I was blessed to hear of two other mystical experiences. One was of physical healing. My college friend's uncle had a tear in his Achilles tendon that had been medically diagnosed and would require several surgeries and 6 months or more of therapy to heal. His family was making the necessary arrangements for the surgery/lifestyle change, and some friends came to pray with him. His ankle was healed. This story is amazing. It sounds unreal. I have met this Aunt and Uncle, though, and I believe every word of it. The doctor himself was amazed, humbled, and awed by the healing.

The second mystical experience was spiritual. Today a friend shared with me something that happened to her last night. I cannot share her story here... it's hers to share. But I am so happy... for her, for me, for all of us. God is so incredibly amazing.

My friend had spent so much time approaching her spiritual struggle from an intellectual place... trying to reach the emotional through the mental. I understand completely. I approached the Real Presence in the exact same way. But God didn't answer me intellectually... He came to me physically, in physical sensation and a noticeable change in my body temperature. Last night, he answered my friend in a way that was completely unexpected, and also exactly what she needed.

God is so very good. He meets our needs in ways we could never expect or anticipate... and with a gentleness that can be hard to comprehend.

Another Quiz

You know I can't resist a quiz. What is most interesting is how much this quiz's description of me mirrors what I was saying in the post below on speaking up at my parish.

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Your result for What Your Taste in Art Says About You Test...

Balanced, Secure, and Realistic.

28 Impressionist, 10 Islamic, 1 Ukiyo-e, -37 Cubist, -34 Abstract and 18 Renaissance!

Impressionism is a movement in French painting, sometimes called optical realism because of its almost scientific interest in the actual visual experience and effect of light and movement on appearance of objects. Impressionist paintings are balanced, use colored shadows, use pure color, broken brushstrokes, thick paint, and scenes from everyday life or nature.

People that like Impressionist paintings may not alway be what is deemed socially acceptable. They tend to move on their own path without always worrying that it may be offensive to others. They value friendships but because they also value honesty tend to have a few really good friends. They do not, however, like people that are rude and do not appreciate the ideas of others. They are secure enough in themselves that they can listen to the ideas of other people without it affecting their own final decisions. The world for them is not black and white but more in shades of grey and muted colors. They like things to be aestically pleasing, not stark and sharp. There are many ways to view things, and the impresssionist personality views the world from many different aspects. They enjoy life and try to keep a realistic viewpoint of things, but are not very open to new experiences. If they are content in their live they will be more than likely pleased to keep things just the way they are.

Take What Your Taste in Art Says About You Test at HelloQuizzy

Speaking Out in Defense of My Church

For the past month, I have been speaking out more and more, certainly much more than I used to. I have always had strong opinions, but for the most part, I’ve kept them within my small, safe community of similarly-minded people. But that has changed in the past month.

I wrote here about the vocal uber-conservative minority in our parish. I am really bothered by the negative and narrow-minded version of Catholicism they espouse. And, unfortunately, they seem like the only voices I am hearing lately. Which is why I am speaking out more and more. I can’t let them be the only voice we hear. They do not speak for my parish. They certainly don’t speak for my Church… the one, holy, Catholic and apostolic church. But if other moderates don’t speak up – if we let the ultra-conservative fringe monopolize the dialogue – we will lose ourselves.

This weekend, things heated up once again. One of the Deacons at my parish wrote a column in the bulletin that I felt was way out of line. It drew a really strong line in the sand, and alienated a significant portion of our parishioners. It also happened to be an area of Church teachings that I have spent a lot of time on… a lot of prayer, discussion, reading, and listening. I knew what I was talking about when I approached first Father, then Pastor, and finally the Deacon himself.

The past three days have been a flurry of emails, phone calls, and in person meetings between me and each of those three individuals. In addition, I've had conversations with many of my friends in the parish, who were alienated by this column, but are not in a position to refute it or to complain about it.

This morning, after mass, Father and I had a brief conversation about all that had transpired. He commended me for speaking up, and not just deferring to clerical authority.

Of course... I totally respect the authority of the Catholic Church. I do my best to listen to our Bishops and the Holy Father, and to take their teachings into my heart sincerely. Even when I disagree, I try to learn all that I can about an issue, and to learn especially why the Church holds its position, before passing the matter over to my conscience. I believe what the Catechism says on conscience... especially that we are morally required to form our consciences properly before relying on them.

But we cannot have a Church in which the clergy are the only ones who matter... the only ones whose opinions are heard. If we move to a clergy-only church, it will die off in a generation. (Literally...they are prohibited from procreating). If we have a laity-only church, we cease being Catholic. We cannot lose the apostolic succession and authority of Rome, or we will be just another Christian church, dependent on the charisma of its pastor for success. We need each other. Clergy need laity. Lay people need clergy. And so, we need to find a way to get along, and to express our opinions respectfully when we don't.

I believe the Deacon and I tried to do that this week. We certainly both spent the time on it. We kept things respectful and polite. Neither of our minds were changed nor our positions altered, but I hope that our parish community was strengthened by our dialogue. The issue between the Deacon and me comes down to a fundamental difference in our approach to Catholicism. We both want to use our experiences and knowledge to help guide others to the beauty and truth of the Church. The difference lies not in our goal, but in our methods. He takes a "tough love" approach: "Here are the rules. Are you in or out?" I think we need a more gentle approach. I look at my own life, and see that it was a long, slow, sometimes painful process to go from "cafeteria" Catholic to the confident, faith-filled, faithful person I am today.

I know that I would have responded to the tough love by walking away. And how sad that would have been for me... not to mention for my family. I can't take that position. I keep thinking Jesus wouldn't either. I dislike the "what would Jesus do" arguments, because I think that most of the time, they are based in a false, teddy-bear image of Jesus. But I am serious about this one... I really don't think Jesus would draw the same line in the sand that my Deacon did this weekend. Jesus didn't hang with the "holy" people, the rule followers, when He was here. He hung with the sinners, the tax collectors and prostitutes. And he exhorted the Pharisees and Saducees not to get so caught up in their rules that they lose sight of their real work: the work of God.

I know the Deacon believes he was doing God's work this past weekend with his column. I believe I am also doing God's work: speaking up, even when it is uncomfortable and hard, and even though the opposition can seem so much louder and stronger.

Maturing

When we got our first cat, Trixie, three years ago, BigBro was horrible to her. He was mean and took all of his preschooler frustrations out on the poor cat.

It warms my heart to see how he is maturing.... I walked into the room to see him gently cuddling her this morning:

Trunk or Treat

Our parish sponsored Trunk or Treat last Saturday night... a chance for the kids to get their "trick or treating" warm-up. Here are pictures of the kids in costumes:

BigBro as Harry Potter

Princess as Chocolate Chip Cookie and LilBro as Lightning McQueen

Catholic Carnival 196

The Catholic Blog Carnival is up over at Snoring Scholar. I have a post in there (my first ever!). I've been reading this weekly collection of Catholic blog posts for over a year now, and this is the first time I had the guts to send in one of mine.

Stop by and check out what else is going on in the Catholic blog-o-sphere.

Snippets Redux

While I was getting ready this morning, LilBro was playing with DH's shaving gel. I told him that when he grows up, he will use shave gel to shave his face, just like Daddy.

LilBro: "Yeah, Daddy is a big boy. I am a little
boy. When I grow up, I'll be a big boy like Daddy."

Me: "That's right."

LilBro: "BigBro is a little boy like me. But Webelo* is a big
boy like Daddy." (pause) "No, Webelo is not a big boy. He's a
little growed-up boy."

* Webelo is the 10-year old brother of one of BigBro's soccer buddies. Webelo is an awesome kid, who helps me out with Princess and LilBro at BigBro's activities. LilBro thinks that Webelo is about the coolest person on the planet (after Mom, of course!)

"Real" Catholics

This post may end up being really disjointed. There have been a bunch of similar themes floating around in my head for the past few weeks.... ever since the retreat, actually. And it all seems to be coming to head this weekend.

Our Parish is a small-ish parish... we have between 800-900 active families. It is just over 50 years old, and we still have some original parishoners. I would say that it is fairly evenly spread between senior citizens and young/school-age families. We are a moderate Catholic parish. We are most definitely not "liberal"... our two priests and two deacons are all faithful to the Magisterium and obedient to the Archbishop. But neither are we a very "conservative" parish. No one wears a mantilla. The choir sings both traditional, organ-based songs, and modern, Christian-rock songs. We occasionally have bongos at 10:30 Sunday mass.

To say that we fit in here would be accurate. In fact, if I look at all the areas of my life, the best "fit" is at the parish. It's not perfect, of course. Nothing is. The parish has a school. We homeschool. If my kids attended the parish school, we would likely bridge that last little gap, and it would be a near-perfect fit. But, as it is, the fit at our parish is as good as I think I'm going to get.

But here's the thing. There is a group within our parish (actually, there is a group within the Catholic Church... and it has offspring within our parish) that is pushing us toward a fundamentalist view of Catholicism. This was blatantly apparent to me on the retreat in September. The retreat was sponsored by a fundamentalist Catholic group. That is actually not a problem. I knew that when I signed up for the retreat... and I signed up anyway.

The problem is that this group defines Catholicism in their own narrow view. If you do not meet their narrow definition, you are not a "real" Catholic. I ran into this directly on the retreat. I had had the impression of judging and "score-carding" going on among the women. But it was confirmed for me on Sunday afternoon. I had been the lector for Sunday morning mass. During lunch, one of the women stopped me and told me I had done a good job. She asked if I was a lector at my parish. I said, no, but that I go to daily mass. Just by paying attention, I knew what to do. Her jaw fell open, and she said, "You go to daily mass?" The judgment in her voice was not a mere impression... it was plain as could be. Yes, me... I go to daily mass... even though I don't wear a mantilla, and I hold hands when I pray the Lord's Prayer, and, and, and .... whatever other bad marks I had gotten on her scorecard.

What is really disturbing me is that this same, narrow view of Catholicism is permeating my parish. Yes, the group is really small... but they are vocal. And the worst part is all of the judging that is going on. It's not just that some people pray one way and others another way. It's like going back to the Pharisees... all these silly rules that must be followed exactly, completely and totally right... or else it's all for naught.

And that is not the point. Not even a little bit. I don't go to mass to impress some other person with my holiness. I go to mass to worship God and receive Jesus in the Eucharist. My prayer posture, so long as it is not disrespectful nor disruptive, should not matter at all. My clothes, so long as they are not disrespectful, should not matter at all.

The judging doesn't stop there, though. I have three children very close in age. There are 3-1/2 years between BigBro and LilBro, with Princess in the middle. LilBro is almost 3. On more than one occasion, someone has assumed that we are contracepting. Because if I were a "real" Catholic, I would have had at least one (if not two) more children. My fertility is proven. The only explanation for no more babies must be that I am one of "those" Catholics... the ones who cherry-pick which rules to follow, not a "real" Catholic.

As if there is only one way. Maybe it's just all the readings from Paul's letters in the daily masses, but it seems like this battle was already fought in the early Church. The Gentiles worshipped differently than the Jewish Christians. And Paul said it didn't matter... following man-made rules didn't matter. Heck, even following Mosaic law didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was following Jesus Christ. And His teachings couldn't have been more clear... you need only look at today's Gospel for that.

"You shall love the Lord, your God,with all your heart,with all your soul,and with all your mind. This is the greatest and the first commandment. The second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself. The whole law and the prophets depend on these two commandments." (Mt. 22:36-40)

It's really very simple. But it's not easy at all.

Snippets

Little moment in the car this morning, on the way home from mass:

LilBro, after seeing an Obama sign:

"Mom, I see B'rock Obama. For President, Mama."

Me: "Do you know who else is running for President, LilBro?"

"John McCain. McCain and Obama for President."

(Have I mentioned he is 2-1/2? Edited to add: He does have a mother with a Political Science degree and a father who is a complete and total political junkie).

Joking Preschooler

Ok... fair warning here... this isn't exactly a funny joke, but keep in mind, it comes from a 2 1/2 year old:

"Mom, I have a joke for you. What do camels like to eat?" says LilBro.

"I don't know. What do camels eat?"

(growling voice) "Grass."

Our Homeschooling Style: Flopping

I've noticed that I pretty much hear the same questions when I tell people we are homeschooling. Non-homeschoolers always ask about socialization and how I can possibly teach subjects I don't know. Other homeschoolers always ask about homeschooling styles and curricula. I usually answer that we are eclectic homeschoolers, who use whatever is working and adapt as necessary.

The topic of homeschooling styles came up again the other day. Tuesday was one of those really "good" homeschooling days. A lot of dynamic learning went on here. It was palpable. It was chaotic, messy, loud and squirmy, but everyone's needs were being met. As I was describing it to DH late that night, I told him that the four of us didn't leave the 6 ft. x 9 ft. area rug in our family room for about 3 hours, except to get a different book, a drink/snack, or go to the bathroom.

We were sprawled out on the floor, in a mass of books, papers, pencils, laptop, "Pizza Math" game, "Candyland," flashcards, markers, crayons, coloring sheets, and construction paper. LilBro was climbing all over me. Princess made her own phonics reader. BigBro and I worked through some measurement problems, and then he created his own measuring tape... marking spaces down to 1/16th of an inch. The kids pulled together a short play, which I uploaded to the blog. It was exactly how I pictured homeschooling when I first imagined it, nursing newborn BigBro six years ago.

You see, I am a "flopper." My parents bought me a beautiful, matching bedroom set when I was a child. It had a canopy bed, large dresser with mirror, and a desk with hutch. I never once -- not one single time in my entire childhood -- sat at that desk to write a letter or do some homework. I did all of my homework, reading, and writing flopped down on my bed.

When we first started homeschooling two years ago, I turned the playroom into a school room. We have a big table, some filing cabinets and bookshelves, and the computer table in there. The kids spend a good deal of time in there, listening to music and creating art projects. But that's not where we do our school work. We do our school work flopped down on the floor of the family room (except for the science experiments that happen in the kitchen). It turns out, my kids are "floppers," too. We all seem to work better when we can sprawl out, and, really, there is no space in our home that is more cozy, warm and welcoming than our family room. It's no wonder that's where we all end up together every day.

And isn't that what this homeschooling thing is really about anyway? All of us together... living, learning, growing ... wherever and however works best.

Can it be November 5th already? PLEASE!!

Is that too much to ask? Can we just get past this election, and move on already? Seriously, I will totally give up all the chocolate I was planning to filch from my kids’ Halloween bags if we can just get on with our lives. I am so tired of the emails, homilies, blog posts, conversations, television shows, commercials, robo-calls, etc etc etc telling me who to vote for and why.

I am voting the way I am voting and that’s that.

Keep your darn emails to yourself. Stop trying to get me to change my mind with emotional tripe and carefully edited YouTube videos.

Does anyone out there REALLY believe that either McCain or Obama is ACTUALLY GOING TO MAKE A DIFFERENCE? Give me a frickin break.

I just want to go back to deleting your stupid forwards of ridiculous warnings that you should have checked out on Snopes before forwarding to everyone in your address book! Is that too much to ask?

Thoughts on Stewardship

Last night, I sat shivering in the field behind our Parish Center as the sun went down and darkness descended on the field. I kept wishing I had thought to bring a blanket. More than once, I thought of marching across the field and telling Princess we had to go... I was cold, it was dark, and she is 4 years old. Why were we still at soccer practice?

But as I sat there, squinting in the darkness, trying to make out Princess' form (nearly invisible, clad in black sweatpants and a purple sweatshirt), I heard the coach exclaim:

"Excellent! You got it, [Princess]! That was perfect. Now, do another one, just like that last one!"

I beamed with pride. That was my little Princess Coach was applauding. And my thoughts went back to something Father said during his homily that morning. He's been working on the theme of "stewardship" all week: specifically, that we do not "own" our lives, but are merely stewards of these lives God has given to us, without our asking for it. It is our responsibility to be good stewards of our lives, and to use the gifts God has given us to help others.

As I sat there, warmed somewhat by my pride in Princess' accomplishments, I realized that, as a parent, I am even more blessed. God has given me not just my own life, but these three other lives as well. I do not get to be their steward forever... but for these fleeting years, DH and I get to care for, guide, and treasure these lives. We are the ones who teach them how to discover their gifts. We teach them how to use their gifts wisely and well. And in doing that, we are learning more about our own strengths and weaknesses. In parenting, DH and I are growing spiritually as much as (if not more than) the kids are growing physically.

Stewardship, by definition, includes some measure of sacrifice. The traditional phrasing we hear at mass is "time, talent and treasure." Last night, my sacrifice didn't really fall into any of those categories. It was more a sacrifice of physical comfort. But the joy-filled grin on Princess' face as she ran across the field to me when practice was (finally) over more than made up for the physical discomfort of an hour in the cold.

God is always working to purify us, to refine us. Sometimes that happens in a fiery furnace of difficult times. Sometimes it occurs in a dark field on a cold October evening.

Unexpected Present

Today was a gift. I know, I know... every day is a gift. But today was a gift tied in gold paper and wrapped up with a big red bow.

Yesterday afternoon, BigBro got a last-minute invite to sleep over and be the "bring a friend" friend at a fellow homeschooler's enrichment classes. I think I said yes before that mom finished explaining the details. Then, I pawned off LilBro and Princess on a very sweet friend who is off work on Wednesdays. That left me with about three hours to do whatever I wanted.

And, what did I do with this delicious bit of quiet, free time? I got a great deal of Christmas shopping done! (I know... here I am, the loudest voice complaining about the radio station that is already playing Christmas music, and I spent my ever-so-rare free time Christmas shopping!) But, you see, I am really trying my best to get it all done before Thanksgiving this year. I've screwed up our fall. We are way too busy, way too overscheduled. We have very little downtime and family-centered time this fall. I can't fix that. But I can do better with Advent.

However, if I am going to do Advent right this year-- keeping our focus on the arrival of Jesus, and re-connecting as a family -- I am going to have to be very organized. That means not only getting all the shopping done, gifts wrapped and (if possible... if I am not too crazy), the Christmas letter designed, but also planning out our Advent activities. I always have such grand goals for Advent, and then don't get a chance to plan anything and before I know it, I am scrambling to the store for last minute treats for St Nicholas Day or crafts for St Lucia Day, or I end up skipping it all in the rush of everything.

So, yeah... Halloween is still a week away. Our pumpkins still need carving and decorating. My kids are dreaming of chocolate bars and candied apples, not presents and trees. But I am already planning out this December. I have made a list. I am checking it twice. And I am praying that this Advent season will be prayerful and nice.

Today's Religion Lesson

Here's why I love homeschooling:

Today, BigBro was learning about the Annunciation in Religion class. He and Princess decided to put on a little play. Fifteen minutes later, we have this:




Edited to add: Watching this over, I realized just how different the story is when the Angel Gabriel is feeding lines to Mary... kinda kills the "choosing God's will" angle of Mary's story, huh?

Peace in the Family

Paraphrased from Father's homily this morning: St Paul's Letter to the Ephesians, Ch 2, brings us hope... hope for unity in the Body of Christ. But we need to start with our families. If we can bring peace in our families, we can bring peace in our world. We need to start where we are, in our homes and families, to bring about change.

I am talking on the topic of Christian Community at our parish's CRHP retreat next month. I touch on some of the same ideas in my talk. Change -- real change, not just the political promises of the presidential campaigns -- happens from the bottom up. It is regular people, making choices to affect their families, communities, cities, and states that make the real change in this world.

Pastor and I had a conversation about this a few weeks ago. In a very rare moment where he had time to talk, and no one else was around, we got into politics. He and I both are less than thrilled by the choices we have this year. We are both pro-life. We have similar positions on other political issues. But the choice for me is one between moral idealism and political realities. I told him that I believed neither man would profoundly change the world for the better. It seems that political leaders never do. When you look at those who've changed the world for the better, it is always, nearly always, simple people, in simple ways. As Blessed Teresa of Calcutta said, "Do small things with great Love."

If we all did that -- even just for today -- imagine the difference in the world.

I Can't Resist a Quiz

So, ABCNews has a quiz to help "undecideds" choose their presidential candidate, based solely on the candidate's own words on different issues.

Take it here and see if you match up with your candidate!

(I got the candidate I plan to vote for... with the expected disagreements, because he is not my ideal candidate... just the better of the two, in my humble opinion).

Thoughts on Today's Gospel

This morning's Gospel reading from Luke included the parable of the greedy landowner who had more harvest than he could store, so he decided to build a bigger barn. But God came to him that very night and told him his time was up... fool, to whom will your grain go now?

Father talked about how greed often manifests itself in "hording," and not just material possessions. We can horde ourselves, our time, our willingness to sacrifice for others.

I've been struggling with this a lot lately. Our schedule is so busy this fall. I had gotten into a healthy routine of weekly time away (usually 7pm Tues mass, followed by an evening with friends or by myself) last year, but that just doesn't fit in this year. I thought the "compromise" would be daily mass. I love daily mass, but 25 minutes when I am sleepy and not in my most aware frame of mind is not an equal substitute for an evening each week that I can count on. And so, I've been stingy with my attention, my care for DH and the kids, as well as others.

I see the strain of it coming out in my pettiness, in selfishness, in my unwillingness to serve. I feel like no time is "mine" and so I horde the little time that I do have, rather than selflessly sharing it with those I love most. Father pointed out that none of this is "mine"... this life I have is God's life. I am just the steward of it. So, be generous with it... share it with all.

I'm going to work on that one this week.

In the Pumpkin Patch

We somehow found time in our very, very busy weekend to stop by the pumpkin patch and pick out our family pumpkin, and of course, found time to wander through the cornrow maze a few times!

Starting My Day Right

It was really hard to get out of bed this morning. First of all, it's Friday, which means that all of the sleep interruptions/deprivation of the week are compounded. Fridays are always the hardest days of the week for me to get up. Add to that this morning that it was cold in our house. A front went through a few days ago, and we are finally having October weather. But I haven't cleaned out the filter yet, and didn't turn the heat on last night... and it was really, really cold this morning.

But I got out of bed anyway. By the time I am conscious enough to consider not going, I am awake enough to realize that not going to mass is not the answer. I piled into three layers of clothes (I did mention that it was cold, right?), and headed out to the van. Two minutes down the road (nowhere near enough time for the heat to kick on), and I duck into the Parish Center, rubbing my arms to try to shake the chill.

Quick smiles and hellos from Father and Deacon, who are putting on their vestments. Two minutes of quiet prayer and greeting for the Lord. Then "Be Not Afraid" sung (slightly off-key by me), dispelling the cold and darkness with warmth and light. Communal prayer. The Word of God. Homily on integrity (again... definitely Father's "go to" theme for daily mass homilies, but also something I need to hear, again and again and again). The liturgy of the Eucharist. The amazing miracle of the consecration. Holding hands and praying as a community (I always want to rub the chill off my elderly neighbor's hands, which are like ice every single morning). Praising God. Receiving the Eucharist. Quiet prayer. Then "Jesus, Remember Me" as we take our leave and head back out into the morning chill, and all that awaits our day.

And when I walk back into my house five minutes later, it is with a much lighter heart, and a warmth that goes much deeper than man-made heat can go.

Distraction of the Week

BigBro and I have been playing this addictive computer game, "Seven Wonders of the Ancient World" for the past two weeks. I was telling him that this game was good for his brain, as it was teaching him to make patterns and developing logic. (well... something like that....)

Anyway, got me to thinking about Tetris. Oh, how many hours I wasted in college on that game! Found one here to play.

Guess I won't be getting the house deep cleaned this week (again!).

The Miracle of the Mass

So, daily mass has become my routine in the past month or so. DH and I have worked it out so I can get to 6:30 mass about 4 days a week (and then I take the kids to 8:15 mass one morning a week). It's hard, most mornings, for me to get up at 6-ish, wash my face, get dressed and head out the door. But I am always filled with peace when I walk into the chapel a few minutes later. And I see the difference that sacrifice of my sleep time is making in my demeanor (most days).

Yesterday, I was privileged to get a second mass. I had my bleary-eyed 6:30am worship. But last night, my parish's current CRHP formation team was having an "instructional liturgy." Since I am giving a witness for them at the retreat next month, I was invited to attend. After the day I'd had, I really needed to go.

It was amazing. First of all, when I walked into the parish center, 7pm Tues mass was just ending, and I stood outside the chapel, reciting the Sacred Heart devotions with the worshippers. (Oh, how I miss that 7pm mass, which was my staple all last year, but doesn't fit it in with the kids' schedules this year!) Then, I had a few moments with Pastor just to chat a bit, and to give him my witness to review. Then, the hugs... oh the fellowship and community of that group of CRHP sisters. I was so welcomed! Finally, we all went into the chapel, and Pastor began describing how he would do the liturgy. I volunteered to serve. I love serving... another thing I miss about not going to 7pm mass anymore. In addition to serving, I was also the Eucharistic Minister of the Precious Blood. (WOW... so deeply humbling!)

But the thing that struck me last night, and again this morning with the kids in the All School Mass, was this: the absolute honor it is to be present for the miracle of the consecration. Just being present for the consecration is awesome enough... and then, to get to receive our Lord in the Eucharist! This morning, as Pastor raised the host and recited the words, I got teary. I realized that this was the third time in just over 24 hours that I was so privileged to witness this miracle, and I was so deeply humbled and awed. How... why does God love me so much?

Flu Shot Adventures

Today I took all three kids to get flu shots. One of the big hospitals is doing them for free -- adults and children together -- all week long. All I had to pay was $1.50 to park in their garage.

I started this morning, prepping BigBro who cannot stand shots at all. He has asthma, so even though I am already a big proponent of the flu shot, it is completely not an option for him... he MUST have a flu shot each year. He is too high risk to skip it.

By the time we arrived at the parking garage, BigBro was quietly crying. LilBro was clueless. Princess was filled with bravado. The paperwork was a cinch to fill out, and we were immediately led to a nurse. Now, BigBro was hysterical. I sat in the chair, and held Princess on my lap, who cried a little, screamed as the needle went in, and then happily sifted through the pile of stickers to find one she liked. The nurse squeezed mine off as I wrestled LilBro (who was no longer clueless) onto my lap. We got LilBro's in quickly and with just a tiny bit of crying, and then he was happy to take a sucker and a sticker.

By this time, I had to go hunt down BigBro, who was attempting to hide behind some cardboard partitions. Two other nurses came over to help. I explained that he had to have a flu shot, as he was an asthmatic, and that I would definitely need some help holding him down. He was hysterical. I tried to get him to focus and breathe with me, and tried to maneuver him onto my lap. The nurse got everything ready. We got him to slow his breathing a little, and then the three of us just held on while the fourth nurse jammed the needle in. Oh, the screaming and crying that followed.... really, you would have thought they were performing an appendectomy without anesthesia right there in the lobby. Oh, yeah, did I mention that this was in the lobby of the building, with about a dozen tables set up, all with people (adults and children) calmly sitting in chairs and submitting to the vaccination? Only my six year old was throwing a fit!

After everyone calmed down, we stopped at the bathroom before heading out to the car. I called DH and told him that he needs to do something nice for me. I don't care what it is... but something to show his appreciation for me taking this task on alone, and not cramming it into our already busy Saturday. We shall see....

What is my TRUE political Identity?

Take this quiz and find out!

Here's my results:

You are a Social Moderate (41% permissive) and an... Economic Liberal (15% permissive) You are best described as a: Strong Democrat Link: The Politics Test on Ok Cupid Also : The OkCupid Dating Persona Test

Theology Lessons

Yesterday, we had the joy of having my Baby Goddaughter spend the day with us, since her sitter was unavailable. All of us love having Baby Goddaughter around. She is five months old, smiles nearly constantly, and is so warm and cuddly... a perfect baby.

At one point in the afternoon, she was laying on the floor, and Princess was laying next to her, showing her toys and talking to her. I tuned in when a bit of Princess' talking floated into my consciousness.

"I love you, (Baby Goddaughter). God loves you. He loves me,
too. God lives right here, in your heart. He is always with
you. You never have to feel scared or alone, because God is always with
you."

I was beaming with pride, and told Princess, "That's awesome, sweetie."

She looked up at me, smiled, and said, "That's right, Mama. God is always good."

Thank you, God, for all my little teachers.

This Week's Distraction

I have at least two posts bumming around in my head right now... one generally about my silent retreat, and another about some lessons learned... but until I get the words down, here is a little time-waster.

Enjoy!