The Holy Trinity ... Explained

About a month ago, I attempted to explain the mystery of the Holy Trinity to our newly-minted six year old. Princess just could not get it. She ended up in tears, unable to understand, even with the use of a shamrock sketch, that there are 3 persons, but only 1 God.

This morning, her Lent workbook included a copy of St. Patrick's famous shamrock lesson. Again, we went over the three persons in the one God, and she wrote each name on a shamrock leaf.

"I don't understand, Mommy. How can there be only one God if there's three?"

I thought about it for a minute.

"Let's think about it differently. There are different ways I can refer to you, right? I can call you Princess. Or, I can call you my daughter. Or, I can call you my middle child. Does that mean that there are three different people?"

"No, there's just me."

"Exactly. God is like that. We can call God our Father, the Creator of All. Or we can call God Jesus, who came to live on earth with us and died on the cross for us. Or we can call God the Holy Spirit, who comes to live inside each of us at our Baptisms. But there's still just one God. Does that make more sense?"

Big smile. "I think I get it, Mommy."

Not the deepest theological explanation; I'm sure our resident Seminarian would make some clarifying points. But, for my six-year-old, this explanation made a complex mystery seem easy-to-grasp.

Happy St. Patrick's Day to you all!

Why Systems Really Do Work

Part of the organizing and reclaiming of my space that I've been doing these past few weeks included a complete reorganization of our mudroom. This tiny, but oh so important, space serves as our laundry room, long-term storage closet, and coatroom.

Organizing this room is a nightmare. Keeping it organized should count toward Purgatory time. There always seems to be too much stuff and too little space. Lately, as we've suffered through a deep cold spell unlike any we've had in decades, the problems have multiplied. There was just not enough room in this small space for all five of us at once... and since this is the space we walk into as we enter the house, this is a pressing issue several times each day.

To make matters even worse, I fixed the dryer venting issue last Tuesday (hooray for me... saved us hundreds of dollars!) at the expense of 4 inches of width. In a room that is less than five feet wide, four inches is a lot of real estate to give up.

So, Wednesday morning of last week, I informed the kids that Mom was going to be working in the mudroom while they did their school work. They were not to take this as license to goof off (the mudroom opens into the family room, where we school in winter); I was right here if they needed help or had questions.

It took me about 2 hours, and involved multiple trips to the minivan with bags full of stuff to donate, and to the trash and recycling cans. It involved unscrewing hooks and screwing them back in the wall in a different spot. It included moving heavy boxes and repositioning storage cubicles. It involved labeling. In the end, I invited the children into the room to see the new layout, and to go over the new locations for their belongings.

It's been a week. A week of in-and-out, dance class and art class and playdates. We've done a full round of laundry in this space. And it is really working for us. It's still organized. All five of us can fit in there at the same time.

What a joy!

Sometimes I can't believe how slow I am to embrace the logic of systems. Last fall, I started a new laundry system that has revolutionized (no, that word is not hyperbolic!) my approach to laundry. Three months later, we've all completely adapted to this new laundry system, and I've reclaimed hours every single week.

I am now seeing the same amazing results from the organized... and accessible... mudroom, and from the meal plan that I developed a few weeks ago. These projects seem so big, so overwhelming at first. They can take hours to implement, and who really has "hours" to spare? But the payoff in the end is amazing... absolutely worth the effort and energy that goes into them.

Next on the list: organizing the household chores.

The Gifts of 2009

As I sit here on the cusp of a brand new year, it seems only fitting to pause and reflect on the gifts of the past year:

• Running: I started 2009 really struggling with exercise, finally making peace with my treadmill in mid-January, and continuing along fairly well until the spring, when I just gave up completely. In an inspired moment, Father suggested that I pray for the desire to care for my body, and to my great surprise... several weeks later, I began running. Before I knew it, I'd signed up for a 5k race in the end of August. I managed only one more 5k this fall, but I've made the mental shift necessary to call myself a "runner" even when I have the occasional lull in training.

  
  

• Spiritual Direction: At the beginning of 2009, I was looking for a spiritual director. When God led me back to Father in February, it was truly the answer to my prayers. In the past year, Father has led me through some difficult times in my family, and to some painful (but necessary) realizations. He's softened, too. He is gentler, more compassionate, more patient with me now. We met yesterday morning, and even without an agenda for our meeting, the conversation and time flowed quickly.

  
  

• Praying the Hours: After about a year or so of thinking about it, I started praying the hours early this fall. It's set a nice rhythm to my day, tied me more closely to the liturgical calendar, and has improved my prayer life immensely. And... most surprising of all... praying the hours is much less complicated (and much less time consuming) than I'd been fearing.

  
  

• Vision of Peace: This place is among the best gifts of 2009 for me. When Father first told me about it in February, I was uncertain. My friend and I visited during Holy Week, and immediately began planning a retreat there. I've been back about every 6 weeks since then, ran a retreat there in September (and am planning another one in March), and have found my home-away-from-home in the little hermitage called "Beautiful Earth."

  
  

• Learning to Count my Blessings: This year, I stopped every Saturday to count the blessings of my week, and learned to do the same at the end of each day. This small practice has gone a long way toward increasing my appreciation for all that I do have, and decreasing my frustration and sense of entitlement. I've been feeling called to take this attitude of thanksgiving further in 2010... so I may be looking at different ways to foster eucharisteo... thanksgiving... in my life.

May your new year be blessed!

This morning...

... after Morning Prayer and mass, driving DH to work (we are down to one car for now), cutting and slicing and chopping veggies for the crock-pot chicken stew we will eat for dinner, quizzing spelling words and checking math facts... I replaced the dimmer switch in our dining room.

Just needed to pat myself on the back.

Every now and again, I surprise myself with what I really can do when I put my mind to it.

Blending Together

It's fall. For us, it's one of the busiest times of the year. This year, however, has seemed even busier... perhaps because of DH's travel, perhaps because I am homeschooling two children, perhaps because we actually are busier than in the past. I'm not sure. Maybe it's a combination of all those reasons, and more.

Whatever the reason, I cannot believe how my days are blending together, bleeding into one another until I really can't see any differentiation between days and weeks. Without my daily agenda emails, I would be completely lost. (Thanks, Google!)

And yet, it's all good. Our lives are full... in the best possible way.

And, somehow, everything is getting done. The important things (school, daily mass, household chores), the less important (soccer practices, dance classes, playdates) and even the silly things (Halloween costumes, baking scout snacks from scratch), somehow, are all getting done.

I wonder, though, if there aren't some things this fall that are helping me keep this family on schedule and moving forward, despite the craziness.

1. Praying the Hours. I started this practice in early September. I am, by no means, perfect in my attempts; many, many days I miss one or more of the prayer stops. But I have noticed that, generally, my life is feeling more balanced. I keep my prayer book with me throughout the day, and sometimes all I have time to do as I am rushing out the door is to set my hand on the top of the book, pause, and ask for His help. But, it's there. It's a reminder to stop, to quiet myself, and to pray. It's a reminder that I am not in this alone.

   
   

2. Scaling down my expectations. When I realized that 2 months into our school year we had already accumulated 1/3 of our required hours, I decided to relax. Maybe we didn't have to do science and social studies every single day. Maybe we could alternate days for those subjects. Maybe we could alternate days for some of BigBro's language arts (we do lots and lots of language arts). We are still covering all of the important stuff, and have time for the fun stuff... and there is a lot less frustration, a lot less annoyance, a lot less yelling on my part.

   
   

3. Getting organized. Admittedly, I am still working on this one. But, I am trying to be more organized. The kids' drawers/closets have been cleaned out and sorted. I am trying a new approach to tame the ever-demanding laundry monster. I've gotten the main level of the house less cluttered than it's been since BigBro's baby shower, and I am really motivated to keep it that way.

   
   

4. Getting the kids involved. My kids have always had chores, always pitched in. But, we've scaled it up a bit. I've given them more responsibility for their laundry. BigBro is my weekly vacuum-er, and Princess helps clean the bathrooms every week. LilBro's been pitching in a lot more... and the more responsibility he gets, the happier and more cooperative he seems to be. But it's not just chores. I've been giving them more responsibility for completing school work, for planning meals, and for planning family activities. The more they are involved, the smoother everything else runs.

   
   

5. Regular, scheduled time away. This time last year, I was a mess. I remember feeling stressed, overwhelmed, and stretched to the breaking point. This year, with the help of my once-a-month visits to Vision of Peace (and, of course, DH's unfailing support), I am much calmer, better able to manage the craziness of our daily lives. Truly, Vision of Peace is an absolute necessity for my mental, emotional, spiritual and physical health.

   
   

6. Regular exercise. Even if I am not getting 45 minutes every day, like I did all summer, I am still running regularly. My body tells me, in stiffness and lack of flexibility, when I've been too lax and need to ramp it back up. Even though it's still a struggle to get started, and I still don't love exercising, at least I am doing it. That, in and of itself, is enough for now.
   

Whether these things, individually or together, are the key to my smooth-but-busy fall, I do not know. I do know that, by the Grace of God, these same things will help me get through the next 10 weeks of holiday craziness, out-of-town guests, decorating, shopping, baking, and party planning, in addition to the usual stuff to do.

The Simple Gift of One-At-A-Time

Last Friday, LilBro didn't have preschool. That gave the two of us a few hours of "special time" while the older two kids were in their enrichment classes.

I had a meeting to attend the first part of our time, and packed LilBro's Nintendo, some snacks, and a promise of something fun afterwards. It helped a lot that one of the older women in the meeting had set aside a chocolate donut for LilBro. When the meeting ended, he and I headed over to the History museum for storytime.

LilBro sat on a cushion down in front. I sat on a stool in the back, watching him the entire time. He was engaged. He listened. He answered questions. He participated. He seemed so grown-up to me. I was awed. And thrilled. I think I had the goofiest grin on my face the entire time. It was such a joy to get to relax and enjoy LilBro, just being 3 1/2.

Later that same day, I dropped LilBro and Princess at a friend's house for a sleepover. BigBro was staying with another friend, but wasn't being dropped off until later. We had a few hours to ourselves, and BigBro was anxious to see the second Harry Potter movie. We popped some popcorn, dug some tiny boxes of Milk Duds out of the bag of Halloween candy, and curled up on the couch together. It had been a while since we'd read this book, and it was fun watching BigBro remember the details of the story.

When I had some quiet time on Saturday afternoon to sit still, my mind returned to my busy Friday, and how incredibly special it had been. It is rare that I get to spend time alone with one of the kids, unless it is something pre-scheduled with DH, or someone decides to tag along on a grocery trip. The things we did together were simple: story time, watching a movie. But, for me, the real power in it was in the slowing down... the focusing on just one child, one activity, at a time.

Running Praise

I don't know about you, but my prayer life tends to be a lot of the same. Petitions? Lots of those. Contrition? Check. Thanksgiving? Even that I have down. Rarely does a prayer session begin or end without me giving thanks. But praise? I never seemed to get that one just right.

Because it was bothering me a bit, a few months ago, I started including some of the praise psalms in my morning prayers. And that helped... some. And I tried to be more aware of my need to praise God. I tried to add small acts of praise in my little prayers throughout the day. But they always seemed... forced, flat, uninspired.

Then, I started running. (This is a whole separate post). Suddenly, it mattered what songs were on the top of my Ipod list. (Note: I have a shuffle... absolutely perfect for my needs, but it doesn't allow for playlists... the only way I have to control what I listen to is the "start at the top" feature). I hooked up to the PC, began rearranging songs, looking for tempo more than content or artist. I redeemed the I-Tunes gift card the kids had given me for Mother's Day and added a few new songs.

At the very top of my list... the song that sets my pace and gets me going each morning is this:



Don't you want what he has? Don't you want to feel about God the way that he does? Wouldn't listening to this song get you moving? It sure does for me.

And so, I realized as I ran along this morning, that whether by coincidence or by Grace, the songs I have front-loaded in my ipod are all praise songs. I spend my morning run praising the Lord. And it feels so very right.

I found my pace... my running pace and my prayer pace. It just took a little of both to make praise soar high and not fall flat.

*****

What praise songs do you love? I am looking for recommendations with an upbeat tempo. There's still a balance on my I-Tunes card and I'm looking to spend it!

I Stand Corrected

After more than a year of coveting, hinting, sending me emails, leaving ads lying in conspicuous places, and otherwise outright begging, DH got an iPhone for Father's Day. (Ok, so it wasn't exactly a gift. I made him work for it... using his corporate discount and renegotiating a deal with AT&T that bundled all of our services into one, and actually brought the monthly cost of the iPhone in line with what we were paying for his crappy phone).

I have spent the better part of the past two weeks shrugging my shoulders and rolling my eyes as he drinks his fake beer, plays with the lightsaber and let's the kids pop the bubble wrap. A lot of money to pay for a glorified toy.

Last Friday, DH added iMissal to his apps, and admittedly, I was a little jealous at the ease with which he has the daily readings at his fingertips. Saturday night, I told him that it would be great if there was some way he could access our family calendar from his iPhone. Is there an app for that?

Well, as it turns out, there is. So yesterday, I jumped into the 21st century with both feet and transferred our family's activities from my paper calendar onto Google calendar. Last night, we took less than five minutes to sync his iPhone to our family calendar. Any updates I make to the calendar are automatically displayed on his iPhone. He can even make updates to the calendar from his phone. (Wait, he can make updates to my calendar! Deep breath. It's ok, Jen. Detach... detach... let go of the control freak ... deep, cleansing breath).

This morning, when I opened my email, we had a message from DH, filled with pictures of the "paper" airplane sculptures in the Cleveland airport. Instant communication, including pictures for the kids, while he is away on business... well, this "glorified toy" is looking better and better to me each day.

I can admit it... I was wrong. I am glad that DH was able to work it out and finally got himself an iPhone. And not just because it makes him so very happy.

Corporate Heart

Because there are way too many examples (globally and locally) of companies that exhibit absolutely NO heart... that are just greed-driven and out for their bottom line at all costs, Pixar deserves acknowledgment for this generous action.

I loved Up when I took the kids to see it a few weeks ago... I laughed, cried, and came away with a different perspective (which is not my typical reaction to animated flicks). I highly recommend the film... this is one family film where the "adult stuff" isn't a bunch of pop culture references and hidden crudeness.

Feeling Christ in the Pain

I've been going through a bit of a rough time lately. There have been some hurts that have cut me really deeply, so much so that I've felt actual physical pain, a deep, searing wound in my chest shooting down into my heart.

Thursday morning, as I knelt in the chapel before morning mass, tears filled my closed eyes, threatening to spill over and announce my inner pain to my neighbors. I prayed as hard as I could for the pain to be taken away. The pain deepened. I knelt there, fighting the tears, trying to breathe through it all, begging for relief.

I looked up at the crucifix, and like a bolt of lightning, I realized that I'd been praying for the wrong thing. I didn't need to pray for the pain to be healed. Instead, I needed to welcome Christ into my pain. Christ -who knows how hard it is to be human, who knows the pain of hurt and betrayal, who has felt both physical and emotional pain - cannot heal me unless I invite Him to join me in the pain.

I took a deep breath, keeping my eyes on the crucifix, and changed my prayer. Let me feel Your Presence in this pain, Lord, please. Over and over, I repeated that prayer. Mass started and I kept the prayer going, a slow chant just below the surface of my full consciousness. Tears rested on the brim of my eyelids, but never spilled over. I made it through mass, managed a little wave at Father, and closed the door to the minivan just as the tears flowed freely.

Throughout my day, I kept that little prayer close to my heart. When the pain threatened to overwhelm, I returned to it, over and over. Little by little, the stranglehold on my throat lessened. The pain didn't dissipate, but it did lessen. It became something I could live with, manage, survive.

Friday morning, as I knelt in the chapel, gazing at the crucifix, my breathing was much easier. The pain was still there, but so was Christ. I wasn't alone in my pain. The pain couldn't overtake me now. And together, we would find my way toward healing.

Three Things

Last week, as part of my penance, Father told me to spend a few minutes in prayer before bed that night recalling three blessings from my day, and thanking God for them.

I liked this so much that when DH got home from the Hermitage on Friday, I mentioned it to him, and asked him if we could include this in our shared prayer time before bed each night. He agreed, and we started that night.

It's only been a few days, but it's really added a lot to our bedtime prayers. Even more than that, though, it's a wonderful way to end our day. Last night, we were frustrated at bedtime. We got settled in, and were complaining a bit to each other about some of our frustrations. Then I turned off the lights and we began to pray. Within a few minutes, we each shared 3 blessings from our day. By the time we had finished praying, my frustrations had dissipated. I was calm, grateful, and in the right frame of mind to drift quickly off to sleep.

Ever so much better than lying there, stewing about the little annoyances... that really, in the grand scheme of things, matter so very little.

Thanks, Father!

image source

On Community: We Take Care of Each Other

I had a beautiful lesson on community this past week. DH was out of town, and I gave myself a concussion. In the days that followed the clunk of the bike rack on my forehead, friends came from every direction to care for me and my family.

Two friends set everything aside on Wednesday... one to take me to the ER, keeping me calm during the three hours it took to get my diagnosis. The other took my kids for the day, keeping them calm, entertained, and fed.

I returned home to phone calls from several other people at the parish, who had either heard about my concussion, or had seen that I was "not quite myself" at mass Wednesday morning.

Pastor emailed me to check on me... he'd gone looking for me at a local hospital, and couldn't find me (we'd gone to a different hospital).

Another friend took all of the kids for three hours (over dinner) on Thursday evening, so I could get my school shopping done at the homeschool convention that was in town this weekend.

After the first afternoon, when word spread around the parking lot at school pickup, my email inbox and voicemail box were full of concern, offers to help, take the kids, make a meal, etc.

Yesterday, Princess' godmother, who lives 1,000 miles away, offered to drop everything and get the next flight out, to help me this week. DH is leaving town again for a week, and I am still not back to "normal" yet.

I am overwhelmed, to say the least. Touched to the deepest part of my heart. So grateful for this community... for my parish, for my family, for the many blessings God has placed in my life.

This afternoon, I was making a meal to bring to a friend whose father died last Monday, and who has had her own struggles this week. BigBro asked what I was doing. I told him that we were going to bring dinner to our friends, because that's what we do: we take care of each other. Just as our friends stepped up to take care of us this week, we do the same for others. That's what it means to live in a community: we take care of each other.

On the Benefits of Exercise

Father and I met for spiritual direction and confession on Monday night, and one of the topics that came up was exercise. Where was I with my commitment to regular exercise? I told him about my attitude adjustment last month, and how ever since, I've gotten on the treadmill at least 5 days a week for about 30 minutes. He asked how I felt about it, and I was happy to be able to tell him that I was fine. I really was. I didn't love it (I don't know that I'll ever love exercising), but I didn't mind it, and I never got on the treadmill grudgingly. He encouraged me to keep at it, and warned me that, in time, I may see a spiritual need to exercise daily, not just a physical need.

I had a rough morning yesterday. I didn't sleep well. DH had an early class, which meant I couldn't go to morning mass. I thought about taking the kids to 8:15 mass, but I had a Bible study meeting at the parish center at 10:30, and if we went to 8:15 mass, there would be no time to get school work done. On top of that, I had gone to sleep angry about a friend's unjust situation. I woke up angry. I tried to find productive ways to channel that anger, but my frustration continued to mount. I knew I needed to get on the treadmill, but I never found time to do so.

We got home from the meeting, ate lunch, and I was in a foul mood. I sent a harshly worded email. Then I looked over at the half-dozen laundry baskets, neatly folded by DH on Tuesday evening, and decided to channel my anger into productivity by getting it all put away. Halfway through sorting the laundry, I remembered I still hadn't gotten my treadmill time. I finished the laundry, made up BigBro's latin quiz, and hopped onto the treadmill. I set the speed a little faster than I usually do, and started walking. Before I knew it, more than thirty minutes had gone by. I got off, graded BigBro's quiz, and noticed that I felt calm for the first time since talking to my friend 48 hours earlier.

That calm stayed with me the rest of the day. I was amazed at how productive I was, at how much I was able to accomplish, at how much better my afternoon went than my morning... all these unexpected benefits of the discipline of regular exercise.

Pleasantly Surprised

Today, I tried something new. I was a little nervous. I prepared for a few days ahead of time, making sure I had enough activities and provisions with me. I prayed. And then I jumped in and did it.

And everything worked out just fine.

Two weeks ago, a Deacon at my parish asked me to be one of four facilitators for the "Great Adventure: Quick Journey Through the Bible" study that our parish is sponsoring in February and March. I agreed to facilitate one of the daytime sessions, on one condition: the Deacon needed to secure babysitting, not just for me, but for anyone in the parish who would like to attend but had small children at home. One of the more frustrating parts of parish life for me is the frequency with which children are not accommodated: the number of meetings, activities, and discussion sessions where childcare is not offered. I maintain that if we are a Catholic, pro-life, pro-family parish, we need to recognize and accommodate the reality of children in everyday life.

The Deacon agreed, and is in the process of procuring childcare for the Monday afternoon sessions I will be running. Two days ago, he emailed the four facilitators, requesting a preparatory meeting with us this morning in the parish center. The timing was do-able for our schedule, but not conducive to finding childcare help. In talking with DH, I offered several options. Not at all serious, I finally said, "I could just bring them along." DH thought that sounded like a great idea, and the more I thought about it, so did I.

I talked to the kids about it in advance, and planned out some quiet activities for each of them during the one hour meeting slot. This morning, after mass, I asked the Deacon if we could meet in the main room, which would give me space to accommodate the children. I watched his face carefully, and he didn't blanch. "Whatever you need is fine with me." Good.

We got there 15 minutes early, so that all of the children were set up with activities and snack before the meeting started. And it went great. BigBro helped LilBro go to the bathroom. Princess and BigBro made pictures for the Deacon. One of the other facilitators entertained the kids with a Donald Duck voice after the meeting had ended. And we had a solid, productive meeting with three children under 7 in the same room.

When we set the date and time for the next meeting, I mentioned that I would have the children with me. Everyone smiled. Someone said, "of course."

And I was pleasantly surprised at how simple it was, really, with the right attitude and expectations on my part.

Growing Into Marriage

Father was over for dinner the other night, and while I was getting the wound-up, overwrought-from-too-many-late-nights-and-too-much-holiday-excitement children tucked into bed, he and DH had a conversation about vocations. When I came back downstairs, fifteen minutes later, to the relative quiet and another glass of wine, Father told me what they were talking about, and that he had asked DH whether he was happy with his vocation as husband/father.

I made a little joke about all the chaos of bedtime being some great lure for him to leave the priesthood. He laughed, and then said that he's always felt he could never be a good husband, that he had felt "confined" in the relationships he'd had prior to entering the seminary. We were all quiet for a minute, and then I responded. "I think being a good husband -- or a good wife -- is something you grow into, over time."

DH agreed and we shared some examples of the struggles we had in exchanging two "I's" for a "we." DH and I were a little older and more established in our own, separate, adult lives when we met. That may have made the transition harder in some ways, and probably easier in others. It is what it is. But, certainly, getting married and staying married are two separate things. Getting married is fun. It's about planning, dreaming, throwing a party, imagining a new life together. Getting married is a lot about emotion.

Staying married is about action. It's a choice that we make every single day, many times a day. A choice to be the one to get up at 2:30 am to comfort the whining toddler because my spouse has a big day tomorrow and needs to sleep. A choice to give up the tickets to the ball game with the guys because it conflicts with a dance recital. A choice to empty the dishwasher without complaining, or to switch a load of laundry on my way out the door. Over and over and over, marriage is about choosing "us" over "me," about setting aside my selfishness, and choosing to act in love.

Parenthood gets much praise as a surefire way to grow in holiness. And it is, for sure. Children demand attention, time, love, food, clothing, and an endless supply of answers. My children are very good at helping me exercise my patience, kindness, and unselfish muscles. But marriage requires a different type of unselfishness. Because my husband is not a child incapable of getting himself a glass of water, or of washing his own clothes or preparing his own food. Caring for him is not an act of love borne in the biological need to care for my young. It is an act of love that comes completely from my heart.

And, of course, marriage is not without it's incredible rewards. When I turned in my "I," I got so much more than I ever anticipated. I got a best friend who means more to me each day. I got a partner who will happily take all the children out of the house for hours, every single week, so that I can clean, nap, or just have some peace and quiet. I got that reassuring squeeze of my hand at 3am, the tender kiss on my sleeping forehead when he has an early-morning class, the warm embrace every single time I need it (and lots of times when I don't). I got a worldview that extends beyond me, forces me to look beyond myself, to consider another in everything I think and do.

None of this happened overnight. We were happy when we dated, happy during our engagement, and happy newlyweds. But this deep peace, comfort and joy that we have in our marriage now: this took some time, some cultivation, some pruning and growing for each of us. This solid, deeply loving marriage is something we've both grown into.

We Need More Movies Like This!

This weekend was our weekend off. DH and I had 26 glorious, child-free hours to spend together. Once a month, we are trading our 3 kids with another family with 3 kids. Each month, one couple gets 26 hours to spend on their marriage. It is a trade that works for both our families, and is so worth the work of managing 6 kids every other month.

We decided to go see "Fireproof," which had gotten rave reviews from another friend. I cannot recommend this movie more highly. It is an unabashedly Christian, intensely pro-marriage movie. We need more movies like this one. When it was over, we stood in the lobby talking with two other couples, and all 6 of us kept repeating that one phrase: We need more movies like this one.

"Fireproof" is the story of Caleb, a firefighter, whose marriage of 7 years is headed for divorce. He and his wife communicate only in angry barbs and snide comments. She asks him for a divorce and he is ready to agree, but his father asks him to try a 40 day "love dare" to save his marriage. Caleb doesn't want to agree, but his father presses him, and he does so only out of respect for him.

This "love dare" is not the magic bullet Caleb was thinking it would be, and his marriage continues to fall apart. About halfway through, his dad comes to visit, and as they walk, they talk about faith. Caleb has little, at this point. He is frustrated and angry with his wife, and he cries out: "How am I supposed to love someone who spits in my face, and keeps pushing me away?" Dad says, "That's a good question, son." and the camera pans up to a shot of a cross.

This is Caleb's conversion moment. I can relate so well. Having walked away from God so many years ago, only really back in His arms less than two years, I was deeply moved by this scene. And I was challenged: this is what it means to love another... not from a selfish need for something in return, but to love as Christ loved... wholly, incarnationally, selflessly, unto death.

This movie really spoke to DH and me. We've been married for 8 years. Long enough that we've gone through some ups and downs. We've had times when our desire for each other has waned, and times when the passion has flared. We've gotten too caught up in the grind and lost touch with each other. We've seen the tides of marriage, and we know the work and the commitment involved in this covenant. Just last month, we were in a rough patch. DH was enamored with the political circus, and I was always running, running, running, busy with our fall schedule. We stopped making time together a priority, and ended up both feeling estranged from each other. Marriage is a commitment. It requires time, effort, energy, and selflessness.

On our way home from the movie, we were talking about the scenes that touched us, the parts we could relate to. DH made a comment about our marriage being a Sacrament, being specifically blessed by God. At that moment, I felt this intense desire to pray with my husband. I suggested that we stop off at the Perpetual Adoration Chapel before going home. We did. It was the first time we've gone there together. As I knelt before the Blessed Sacrament, I had only one prayer in my heart: "Thank you."

We sat up talking in front of the fire for a long while that evening. And the next day, as we spent our day together, reconnecting and falling deeper in love once again, we kept bringing up scenes and words from the movie. We agreed to buy the DVD as soon as it comes out, and to pick a date twice a year to watch the movie together... no matter what.

Every married couple needs to see this movie. It is Christian. There are no attempts made to hide it. This movie states several times that "marriage is meant to be forever" and that "God makes marriages." I really loved that it was completely non-denominational. Caleb did not ever "join" a church or commit to any particular branch of Christianity. That wasn't the focus of this movie. But his faith and his developing relationship with Jesus Christ did impact his marriage, his person. The deeper he grew in his faith, the more committed he grew in his marriage. In the scene where he apologizes to his wife and asks for her forgiveness, DH and I both went through more than a few tissues.

The movie has a website, and on the website, there are resources specifically for Catholics. I have not yet had much time to explore these, but I plan to. And I plan to discuss this movie with my Pastor, and see where and how we can make this available to the couples in my parish.

I said it before. We need more movies like this one. We need more movies that are adamantly pro-marriage, pro-family. We need movies that build us up and bring us together. Enough with the crap that tears us apart and pits us against each other. We need more movies like this one.

Treasure Hunt

We resurrected an old favorite around here this morning. Princess is slowly making her way through some early phonics readers, but she uses the pictures as clues too often.

So, I asked her if she wanted to play "Treasure Hunt." I wrote out 6 simple sentences on pieces of paper, with clues leading one to the other. (Example: Look at Daddy's bed). The final clue led to the hiding place for a handful of Skittles. She was so excited. She carefully read each clue, ran to the next spot, and then sounded out the next clue. She was so excited by the end, she was jumping up and down and asking if she could play this game every day.

Of course, BigBro now wants his own Treasure Hunt, which will require a little more setup effort on my part.