Since my last post, I've been struggling with the roller coaster of feelings that flood me as I fight back the urge to find a way to cheat and get on Facebook. Like any addiction, temptation to give into the addiction is plentiful. Being addiction specific, it is easy to say "one minute won't hurt," or "I'll just see if they found out why that lady is bleeding," or "I wonder if that kid's eye got infected from the dog-bite?" Fighting each urge is important, as failing doesn't cost 'just one minute.' Failing means the urges to surf FB get stronger, the minutes spent on FB during the day-time get longer and more numerous, and the moments that could have been with my husband and children slip away more easily. Why? Because the devil does exist. The devil is in the little lies that make it okay to do what we know is wrong. The devil is in the voice that makes transgressing our conscience a small problem when it is really a big one.
That devil. That devil most certainly exists. I had plenty of childhood nightmares about the devil. Sometimes I'd wake up my womb partner when I woke terrified and enlist her help in settling down. Other times, I knew I had to go get Dad, as my 'big, strong Daddy' was the only bridge over the gap between anxiety and peace. I don't know if Dad remembers those nights when I woke him, but I do. They were almost always because I was afraid of death or the devil and I needed to feel his strength and certainty.
But the devil doesn't exist in just dreams. That bugger is real. I came to see how real when I read about Padre Pio and the physical fights he had with the devil, often right before bed. One day, when I was newly twenty years old, when I was with a small group of people, in a foreign land, after dark, and about a mile away from where we lodged, I saw the devil. I heard the devil. Everyone in my small group did. It's the kind of experience that one would question if everyone in the group didn't experience it simultaneously, but we all did.
We were leaving a small chapel known as the Oasis of Peace. It was run by some cloistered nuns just outside of Medjugorje in Bosnia Herzegovina. My cousin, Sarah, a group of women that lodged where we were, and myself decided to go to the chapel for some quiet prayer of thanksgiving before we started the journey home the next day. We prayed the rosary in front of the Tabernacle, had some silent time to ourselves, and got up to leave. We were all outside in the dark, rounding the dimly lit path towards the road home, when we all heard a screech together. Several women, including my cousin Sarah, pointed upward towards the sky. Above us was a huge, red, wolf-like creature that had what looked like a body but flew through the air. This creature, very much a demon, swept high and low above our heads, coming so close to us so as to appear like it would knock us down. Several women screamed as if in a horror movie.
Joan, one of the older ladies who was with us, started to say the St. Michael Prayer. By the time she hit the sixth word, we'd all joined in. We all had slightly different versions, but our voices gained in unity and strength as we prayed together the renditions we knew.
St. Michael the Archangel,
defend us in battle.
Be our defense against the malice and snares of the devil.
May God rebuke him, we humbly pray,
and do Thou,
O Prince of the Heavenly Hosts,
by the Divine Power of God,
thrust into Hell satan,
and all the other evil spirits,
who prowl throughout the world
seeking the ruination of souls. Amen.
As we finished, the demon screeched one final, lengthy wail, scrunched together in the whirl of a tornado-like fashion, and disappeared. Gone. One minute this thing was swooping above us, and the next, after the words of one of my most favorite prayers of protection, it was gone.
That, my friends, was a very real experience of the devil. And, that, my friends, was spiritual warfare at it's Heavenly best.
This experience solidified for me personally, the presence of the devil. The devil is real and is around us. Evil spirits are real and around us. Spiritual warfare is absolutely a real and necessary thing. I feel as though a public thank you to St. Michael is necessary for protecting us that day. His protection extended to me at that moment and far beyond, as it impressed upon me the certainty of demonic existence and the necessity to fight against evil.
You know what? I feel the devil and his minions are alive and well working to spread evil in the form of pain, suffering, sin, and the consequences of sin. I feel them work feverishly to build little lies into big lies so that people are unable to call evil, evil.
New Yorkers are poised to expand the codifying of the most evil of evils, the murder of the innocent in abortion. Masked in terminology like 'removing tissue' or 'pre-born embryo,' the act of killing a pre-born baby doesn't seem like the killing of a baby at all. Future scientists, cure finders, teachers, doctors, and everything in between are legally murdered even before they inhale their first breath. Current limitations on how far into a pregnancy this killing can happen are soon to be removed, making it legal and acceptable to terminate a pregnancy up to and through delivery. In fact, the law that is set to pass on January 22, 2019, in the NYS Congress run in both houses by Democrats, will make it so babies born alive after failed attempts at abortion can be left to die on the table without any assistance whatsoever.
--- Warning---- graphic descriptions coming ----
There are different ways that abortion happens. This is largly determined based on how far along a pregnant MOTHER is. There are abortion pills to cause death, and there are abortion instruments to cause death. Early on, wombs as safe places are forced to shed and deny the protection of little life. A bit later, whether using a sickle or a vacuum, human babies are torn apart and removed piece by piece from the womb. Limbs are pulled off, heads are crushed, brain material is removed. Doctors and nurses must actually count body parts and put babies back together before dumping this 'medical waste' to make sure remains are not left behind to form infection.
'The Silent Scream' is a term coined in 1984 that echos in my heart and mind when thinking of the littlest and most vulnerable people torn apart in the sacred space of the womb. The fluid, muscle, and blood vessels meant to nourish and protect, to help and guide fresh, new life until the journey of birth is complete, actually hide the most horrible of screams, the death scream.
New Yorkers are poised to allow that wail even after birth.
The evil is palpable. It is real. It is all around. It seeks to engulf me. I envision my own six children, who safely took the breath of life (but who had the O2 before needing the breath), being left to die. I cannot bear it. I cannot bear it for them or for anyone.
Like the demon that appeared to my group in Medjugorje, the demons abound. The devil has snuck them into the lies that say babies aren't babies; the demons are in the lies of false compassion and the empty promises that abortion will make one's life better; the demons are particularly loud and diabolically active in the procedures that violently end human life one piece at a time.
We must be like Joan. We must cry out in prayer for the blindness to be lifted, for people to understand what is really going on, for the reality of abortion to be crystal clear and to be rejected. We must pray for those involved with abortion to be changed and healed. We must pray for God's Mercy and Forgiveness to be seen and felt by all.....
When it seems like there is no hope.... when it seems the job is too big and the fight cannot be won, we must remember that with God all things are possible. ALL THINGS. We must press on in using the tools God has given us. Pray and Perservere.
St. Michael the Archangel,
defend us in battle.
Be our defense against the malice and snares of the devil.
May God rebuke him, we humbly pray,
and do Thou,
O Prince of the Heavenly Hosts,
by the Divine Power of God,
thrust into Hell satan,
and all the other evil spirits,
who prowl throughout the world
seeking the ruination of souls. Amen.
Lord Jesus, Son of God, Bringer of Mercy, BUST THIS BILL. From baby to abortionist, have mercy on us all. Lord Jesus, please catch me as the anxiety of such an awful bill consumes me. Catch me and bring me peace. Help me to know that while man misuses his Free Will, You give that Free Will to ensure true love and You ultimately will bring safety. Please Lord, for the sake of all, especially those who know not what they do, please 'Bust This Bill.' In Your Mighty name we pray, Amen.
PS. On Tuesday 1/15/18, my family will make use of our time homeschooling to pray in the legislative building. We will pray together for God to 'Bust This Bill.' Please email me (Sarah) at sstodolka@gmail.com if you would like information on how to participate in prayer or lobbying from Monday 1/14 through Tuesday 1/22/18. The link to the Albany Diocese Novena Prayer is the first link below. Also, below are some links to information on receiving help in a crisis pregnancy or after an abortion has occurred.
https://www.rcda.org/9days (Join the Albany Diocese in Praying to 'Bust This Bill')
http://www.ccrcda.org/get_help/ (Find Help: Catholic Charities of Albany)
http://hopeafterabortion.com/?page_id=47 (Help for those suffering from the effects of abortion)
https://standupgirl.com/girl-help/id-like-help/ (Get help in a crisis pregnancy)
Monday, 14 January 2019
Saturday, 12 January 2019
Pride goethe before the fall
The devil is a tricky one. So many people don't believe that he even exists, and then he has a heyday at the expense of us all. Many people don't think like that, but I do. And I got caught up into thinking he couldn't get me. I go to Mass every week and confession at least twice a month. I homeschool. My family prays together. I'm safe from that nasty guy that lives in the tropics below the earth. Right? WRONG.
See that pride? The devil found a way in. It's not pleasant to admit. Pride is the big one. I was proud of my track record and the faith life I've been blessed enough to lead.... so PROUD that I thought I was safe, and I'm not. Pride goethe before the fall.
My name is Sarah Stodolka and I am addicted to Facebook.... and therein lies one big spot where that tricky old red legs found his way into my life. I'm so opposed to him that I can't even capitalise his name. I work to make sure I don't have to use the pronoun "he" at the beginning of the sentence when I refer to him, I never capitalise devil, and if I do use the name satan to discuss him, I give him a small s and take a grammar hit. Those of you that know me know I pay attention to grammar; I used to be a public school teacher and now I'm a homeschooling mom, so when I read things, I read with an eye for grammar. I can't turn that teacher off. Nonetheless, satan gets a small s; I will do my best to make sure the honor of the capital letter is never given to him. That's how aware of him I am. Still...he got me.
Facebook has become my favored on-line meeting place. I used to have some yahoo groups that I participated in where I chatted with other moms and people with the same interests/worldview. With FB, I can strike up a conversation with anyone I’ve ever known or someone I’ve never known. I can talk to my closest friend and womb-mate or to the newest friend whom I have everything or nothing in common with. I meet people in groups or as friends of a friend. Heck, FB even suggests people to me because we have one out of thousands of friends in our friend list in common. Interaction happens any time a person I know on FB shares personal information and we banter back and forth be it in private message or on a public page. More often than not, this leads to prayer. Intercessory prayer. So Facebook is good, right? It has to be, as it keeps me praying for the living and the dead - for people I know in varying degrees from not at all to very well. It doesn’t matter if I see my womb partner ask for prayer or a friend of a FB friend ask for prayer, for when I read some of the hard that someone is going through, I pause to reply “praying,” and I pray. How can that be bad?
Facebook has also helped me conquer some of my social anxieties. I'm just not good with small talk. I never was. I don't think I ever will be. I like the substance of life... the stuff that has real meaning. I don't care much about the weather as a conversation topic except that it helps me get to the real topics that make me tick..... I like to talk about love, friends, sacrifice, God, life lessons, relationships, historical moments, and, well, anything meaningful. Honestly, though, I’ve come to know that, that's too much for a lot of people. It's too heavy and something that people tend to shy away from in favor of discussing the weather, traffic patterns, recent trips, or last night's dinner. Facebook has given me a glimpse into people's lives so that when I do see someone in person, small talk isn't so hard and I can bridge the gap between topics like the weather and topics like the challenges of living virtuously in a world where virtue isn't an absolute anymore. Any forum that ushers in such a refreshing opportunity at meaningful and genuine interaction has to be good, right? What I mean is, isn’t anything that breaks through anxiety and allows authentic communication and connection good?
Facebook also helps me keep up with the news. I used to be a 24/7 news watcher. I'd compare the news on Fox and CNN and MSNBC and The Blaze and try to get a feel for what is going on in the world in a very real sense instead of through someone else's lense. I'd look for liberal or conservative slants and search for facts that do sometimes exist but are hidden behind opinions. I had family members and friends alike calling me asking me what I felt about any given topic of the day. Generally, I was well versed in all those topics, as if I was home, I had the news on in the background. The dawn of 24 hour news helped me feel smart, knowledgeable, on top of things, and..... anxious. With all that was going on, I felt the news started to control me. I found myself worried over EVERY. SINGLE. EVENT... I was consumed with finding out more so that I could put those worries to rest. One day a few years back, I decided that the news owned me instead of the other way around. I decided to give it up. As a former history teacher, that wasn't easy. I felt like I was letting the present soon to be history slip away. I talked myself out of feeling too badly by realistically pointing out that it is way too expensive to have cable anyhow.
A new, first-world problem surfaced. Without cable, we can't watch tv. Screens are fuzzy and noisy and many channels aren't available at all. I hate to admit it, but our family can't go without tv completely. We use it to decompress and entertain. We needed something, so we became a Netflix and Hulu family, a savings of at least $60 a month. I put parent settings and passwords on. The news was gone and non-violent/non-sexualized tv programming is available.
As I continued the journey through news detox, I found that I got just as anxious knowing nothing. I was telling people I got rid of 'live news;' that was freeing, but the nagging feeling of not being on top of things and able to discuss topics intelligently dug at me. For my sake, I needed to know at least a basic level of what was going on in the world. I could come up with a whole list of reasons why I needed to, but most of them would probably be excuses or trumped up a bit. I do care about voting though. One must be an educated voter, so where did I stay up to date? Why, on Facebook of course. Rather than watching 24/7 news or searching the net for programs/articles, I read some of the articles that "friends on the left" and some of the articles that "friends on the right" posted. So Facebook helped me to stay abreast of what is going on in the world and is good, right?
Wrong. It's all wrong. See? That's how the devil snuck in. I 'thought' I was on the right track and was okay. I ‘thought’ I had control over FB and was only using it for good. And that may be true to some extent; however, I most definitely crossed the line at some point because my checking in on people in my FB world began to take precedence over solving math problems with my children, saying the Divine Mercy at 3 am while nursing, excercising to take care of my Temple of the Holy Spirit, reading to my husband while he drives, taking pictures of my kids playing or pushing their swings on the playground, or any number of other meaningful activities that I should have been fully present at with those I love.
(Caution: I switch tenses a lot below. I can't figure out how to do this in the reflective present. I created that terminology, but you'll see what I mean. I don't want to waste time figuring it out.)
The pull to check FB comes at all different times and I didn't see that the time I was on it was gradually increasing. I didn't see that the number of "excuse me Moms" had increased dramatically. The pull got stronger and stronger until I began to think about FB situations while I was with my real life peeps. I started feeling guilty if I wasn't constantly checking in to see how this emergency turned out or that job interview went. The more I'm on FB, the more prayer intentions I'd see. If I didn't answer the request to pray, I felt bad. How could I deny prayer to someone who needed it? How could I not find time for that? This all happened over several years.... gradually increasing from the time I gave up the News. It became alarming to me when I recognized that I became triggered to a fast, hot temper when I was interrupted from FB for just about anything. STOP. STOP. That interruption for a bowl of cereal or sharing a story or watching sports practice or singing songs or cuddling in the Mommy chair with a little that needs a love tank fill is way more important than my FB world.
This is no longer just time that is given over to FB. It is moments too. I gave away moments that come only once. Sometimes similar moments come of course.... but that is a different moment and there is still damage done to little egos that can't be fully repaired. Those little egos don't know that the mom is in the wrong and they are more important than FB, unless the mom tells them and shows them.
I went to confession where a wise, young priest asked me where I get the most access to FB. I told him it was on my phone. He asked if it was through an app or through the net, and I of course have the app. He gently suggested I take it off the phone, or if I need it for some reason, look into getting an app that limits my time on social media from the phone. Because I was monitoring a business page from FB, I felt getting an app to monitor my time spent on FB would be best. Then I could always be available should the business need something.
Who was I kidding? I tried to find just the right app, but I couldn't. Soon, I gave up. I told myself I'd just be an adult and monitor myself. FB didn't have me. I could control this.... for just a minute at a time.
No. I didn't succeed. I was drawn back in and time was sucked away.... more moments gone too. Well, time and moments are given only once. I love people. I love my FB friends. I love praying for others. I love knowing things and conversing more easily with others. BUT.....
I love my husband and family more. I've chosen my life, and I want it to be holy. For that to happen, I need to treat FB like the addiction it has become and I need to learn a bit of temprance and balance. I have my faith, my family, and my friends.... I have the real deal.... I have time and moments that need to be properly spent purchasing eternity. That tricky bugger, that devil, made me forget about saving and purchasing eternity. Father Shamon, my confessor of many years, would be hitting my knee and calling me a monkey for letting my guard down and letting satan in. He used to say things like "it may just be a minute, but that minute has eternity in it." He was/is right.
For all my friends out there in the internet world. You are not forgotten. You are part of my daily intentions. I will still be on FB from the computer from time to time when my duties are done and my kids are snug in bed. I will still share pictures and memories and prayers and reflections. I will just make sure to be cognizant of the free fall God just caught me from.... the freefall into FB addiction.
Thank you God for catching me in the freefall of addiction and showing me that satan got in. Thank you for catching me, and I ask that You now Lead me. Please help me to never again let pride or addiction take your place. I can see that I have a need for entertainment to shield me from the hard in the day to day. Please help me to find You in the hard, to find You in the day to day, to find You in my responsibilities and my pleasures. Please help me beat this FB thing (and the entertainment thing that seems to be the progression of it) and return FB and enterainment to their rightful spots so YOU are my center and my strength, my calm and my peace, my everything. Lord, I know that love is not always a feeling, it is often a choice. I choose You. Help me to get beyond myself and the pull backawards and make that so. In Jesus' Mighty Name I pray.
Amen.
See that pride? The devil found a way in. It's not pleasant to admit. Pride is the big one. I was proud of my track record and the faith life I've been blessed enough to lead.... so PROUD that I thought I was safe, and I'm not. Pride goethe before the fall.
My name is Sarah Stodolka and I am addicted to Facebook.... and therein lies one big spot where that tricky old red legs found his way into my life. I'm so opposed to him that I can't even capitalise his name. I work to make sure I don't have to use the pronoun "he" at the beginning of the sentence when I refer to him, I never capitalise devil, and if I do use the name satan to discuss him, I give him a small s and take a grammar hit. Those of you that know me know I pay attention to grammar; I used to be a public school teacher and now I'm a homeschooling mom, so when I read things, I read with an eye for grammar. I can't turn that teacher off. Nonetheless, satan gets a small s; I will do my best to make sure the honor of the capital letter is never given to him. That's how aware of him I am. Still...he got me.
Facebook has become my favored on-line meeting place. I used to have some yahoo groups that I participated in where I chatted with other moms and people with the same interests/worldview. With FB, I can strike up a conversation with anyone I’ve ever known or someone I’ve never known. I can talk to my closest friend and womb-mate or to the newest friend whom I have everything or nothing in common with. I meet people in groups or as friends of a friend. Heck, FB even suggests people to me because we have one out of thousands of friends in our friend list in common. Interaction happens any time a person I know on FB shares personal information and we banter back and forth be it in private message or on a public page. More often than not, this leads to prayer. Intercessory prayer. So Facebook is good, right? It has to be, as it keeps me praying for the living and the dead - for people I know in varying degrees from not at all to very well. It doesn’t matter if I see my womb partner ask for prayer or a friend of a FB friend ask for prayer, for when I read some of the hard that someone is going through, I pause to reply “praying,” and I pray. How can that be bad?
Facebook has also helped me conquer some of my social anxieties. I'm just not good with small talk. I never was. I don't think I ever will be. I like the substance of life... the stuff that has real meaning. I don't care much about the weather as a conversation topic except that it helps me get to the real topics that make me tick..... I like to talk about love, friends, sacrifice, God, life lessons, relationships, historical moments, and, well, anything meaningful. Honestly, though, I’ve come to know that, that's too much for a lot of people. It's too heavy and something that people tend to shy away from in favor of discussing the weather, traffic patterns, recent trips, or last night's dinner. Facebook has given me a glimpse into people's lives so that when I do see someone in person, small talk isn't so hard and I can bridge the gap between topics like the weather and topics like the challenges of living virtuously in a world where virtue isn't an absolute anymore. Any forum that ushers in such a refreshing opportunity at meaningful and genuine interaction has to be good, right? What I mean is, isn’t anything that breaks through anxiety and allows authentic communication and connection good?
Facebook also helps me keep up with the news. I used to be a 24/7 news watcher. I'd compare the news on Fox and CNN and MSNBC and The Blaze and try to get a feel for what is going on in the world in a very real sense instead of through someone else's lense. I'd look for liberal or conservative slants and search for facts that do sometimes exist but are hidden behind opinions. I had family members and friends alike calling me asking me what I felt about any given topic of the day. Generally, I was well versed in all those topics, as if I was home, I had the news on in the background. The dawn of 24 hour news helped me feel smart, knowledgeable, on top of things, and..... anxious. With all that was going on, I felt the news started to control me. I found myself worried over EVERY. SINGLE. EVENT... I was consumed with finding out more so that I could put those worries to rest. One day a few years back, I decided that the news owned me instead of the other way around. I decided to give it up. As a former history teacher, that wasn't easy. I felt like I was letting the present soon to be history slip away. I talked myself out of feeling too badly by realistically pointing out that it is way too expensive to have cable anyhow.
A new, first-world problem surfaced. Without cable, we can't watch tv. Screens are fuzzy and noisy and many channels aren't available at all. I hate to admit it, but our family can't go without tv completely. We use it to decompress and entertain. We needed something, so we became a Netflix and Hulu family, a savings of at least $60 a month. I put parent settings and passwords on. The news was gone and non-violent/non-sexualized tv programming is available.
As I continued the journey through news detox, I found that I got just as anxious knowing nothing. I was telling people I got rid of 'live news;' that was freeing, but the nagging feeling of not being on top of things and able to discuss topics intelligently dug at me. For my sake, I needed to know at least a basic level of what was going on in the world. I could come up with a whole list of reasons why I needed to, but most of them would probably be excuses or trumped up a bit. I do care about voting though. One must be an educated voter, so where did I stay up to date? Why, on Facebook of course. Rather than watching 24/7 news or searching the net for programs/articles, I read some of the articles that "friends on the left" and some of the articles that "friends on the right" posted. So Facebook helped me to stay abreast of what is going on in the world and is good, right?
Wrong. It's all wrong. See? That's how the devil snuck in. I 'thought' I was on the right track and was okay. I ‘thought’ I had control over FB and was only using it for good. And that may be true to some extent; however, I most definitely crossed the line at some point because my checking in on people in my FB world began to take precedence over solving math problems with my children, saying the Divine Mercy at 3 am while nursing, excercising to take care of my Temple of the Holy Spirit, reading to my husband while he drives, taking pictures of my kids playing or pushing their swings on the playground, or any number of other meaningful activities that I should have been fully present at with those I love.
(Caution: I switch tenses a lot below. I can't figure out how to do this in the reflective present. I created that terminology, but you'll see what I mean. I don't want to waste time figuring it out.)
The pull to check FB comes at all different times and I didn't see that the time I was on it was gradually increasing. I didn't see that the number of "excuse me Moms" had increased dramatically. The pull got stronger and stronger until I began to think about FB situations while I was with my real life peeps. I started feeling guilty if I wasn't constantly checking in to see how this emergency turned out or that job interview went. The more I'm on FB, the more prayer intentions I'd see. If I didn't answer the request to pray, I felt bad. How could I deny prayer to someone who needed it? How could I not find time for that? This all happened over several years.... gradually increasing from the time I gave up the News. It became alarming to me when I recognized that I became triggered to a fast, hot temper when I was interrupted from FB for just about anything. STOP. STOP. That interruption for a bowl of cereal or sharing a story or watching sports practice or singing songs or cuddling in the Mommy chair with a little that needs a love tank fill is way more important than my FB world.
This is no longer just time that is given over to FB. It is moments too. I gave away moments that come only once. Sometimes similar moments come of course.... but that is a different moment and there is still damage done to little egos that can't be fully repaired. Those little egos don't know that the mom is in the wrong and they are more important than FB, unless the mom tells them and shows them.
I went to confession where a wise, young priest asked me where I get the most access to FB. I told him it was on my phone. He asked if it was through an app or through the net, and I of course have the app. He gently suggested I take it off the phone, or if I need it for some reason, look into getting an app that limits my time on social media from the phone. Because I was monitoring a business page from FB, I felt getting an app to monitor my time spent on FB would be best. Then I could always be available should the business need something.
Who was I kidding? I tried to find just the right app, but I couldn't. Soon, I gave up. I told myself I'd just be an adult and monitor myself. FB didn't have me. I could control this.... for just a minute at a time.
No. I didn't succeed. I was drawn back in and time was sucked away.... more moments gone too. Well, time and moments are given only once. I love people. I love my FB friends. I love praying for others. I love knowing things and conversing more easily with others. BUT.....
I love my husband and family more. I've chosen my life, and I want it to be holy. For that to happen, I need to treat FB like the addiction it has become and I need to learn a bit of temprance and balance. I have my faith, my family, and my friends.... I have the real deal.... I have time and moments that need to be properly spent purchasing eternity. That tricky bugger, that devil, made me forget about saving and purchasing eternity. Father Shamon, my confessor of many years, would be hitting my knee and calling me a monkey for letting my guard down and letting satan in. He used to say things like "it may just be a minute, but that minute has eternity in it." He was/is right.
For all my friends out there in the internet world. You are not forgotten. You are part of my daily intentions. I will still be on FB from the computer from time to time when my duties are done and my kids are snug in bed. I will still share pictures and memories and prayers and reflections. I will just make sure to be cognizant of the free fall God just caught me from.... the freefall into FB addiction.
Thank you God for catching me in the freefall of addiction and showing me that satan got in. Thank you for catching me, and I ask that You now Lead me. Please help me to never again let pride or addiction take your place. I can see that I have a need for entertainment to shield me from the hard in the day to day. Please help me to find You in the hard, to find You in the day to day, to find You in my responsibilities and my pleasures. Please help me beat this FB thing (and the entertainment thing that seems to be the progression of it) and return FB and enterainment to their rightful spots so YOU are my center and my strength, my calm and my peace, my everything. Lord, I know that love is not always a feeling, it is often a choice. I choose You. Help me to get beyond myself and the pull backawards and make that so. In Jesus' Mighty Name I pray.
Amen.
Friday, 3 June 2016
Little Bird
The past two years have flown by.... and while enduring the challenges and blessings of homeschooling, I've experienced a tremendous amount of personal growth and discovered pearls of wisdom that have been revealed to me from many sources. Perhaps the greatest and most valuable thing I've learned is that I am a little bird. It is my new life phrase, and it comes from some extensive reading on St. Therese of the Child Jesus. St. Therese, a young woman who ardently loved Jesus and petitioned to joined the convent at age 16, reveals herself as a little bird in faith. I have a hard time accepting she is that little bird, as the woman is a Doctor of the Church and leads many, including myself, to her Savior with her words and example. Me, on the other hand.... I am a little a bird, and that's quite okay. I find faith lived out heroic and virtuous, and I strive to be a woman who emulates an active, lively faith; however, my faith is a choice that is made day to day, and one that often falls quite short.
You see, I want to love Jesus. I want to be someone who can communicate well with Him and who has no trouble giving up whatever is needed to devoutly live a vibrant faith. And, I've longed for this my whole life. I've gone back to my old journals and read my pleas that .... "Jesus, please help me to see, know, feel, experience, embrace, return, share, and spread Your love." Many times though, I make choices and live as if I felt the faith I long for. I don't often have that feeling. When I was a public school teacher, I hung a sign in my room that said, "Watch your thoughts, they become words. Watch your words, they become actions. Watch your actions, they become habits. Watch your habits, they become your character." Emulating the spirit of this, I continually choose God though I don't often feel Him. Last year, I began to feel like the biggest hypocrite as I wholeheartedly embrace Roman Catholicism through choices and intellectual reasoning, but I didn't feel God the way so many of the great saints did (or the way many of my friends seem to).
St. Therese saved me from the self-inflicted flagellation of supposed hypocracy. She provided the answer to my deepest need.... knowing God is there in the choice and really knowing that feelings aren't important. Having read her story of faith, of her understanding of being a little bird, I safely rest in who I am, a little bird. I can accept that I may not always feel God; that doesn't mean He isn't there or my faith is weak. In fact, it's a gift. What happens to the individual who is good at something and knows it? Pride can develop and dangers surface. I am little, and I know it. I have no reason to feel prideful, and I'm grateful for that. I have many quirks and faults, resulting in more failures than successes in my faith journey. I only ask that Jesus take care of my weakness, fill my emptiness, and lead me to Himself.
This little bird is working on knowing I can't live a life of faith on my own. I must admit I am weak.... I have a hard time praying without ceasing; I have a hard time with the day to day drudgery of laundry, cleaning, cooking, mopping and the like. I REALLY have a hard time suffering, even when I offer it up for others. In fact, by the time I get to the offering up, I've sought respite and complained so much that there is probably very little value left in it. Before reading St. Therese's story, I focused on these inadequacies and often despaired of attaining the relationship with Jesus that I so ardently desired. What a perfect way for satan to get at me -my own scrupulosity. (For my grammar conscious friends, I realize satan ought to be capitalized, but I don't want to do that). Now, thanks to St. Therese, I work on asking Him to fill me and let me borrow His sanctity so I can properly lead my family to Him when I do not have what it takes. He does. Lead Your Little Bird, Jesus.... I am not an eagle, but I can fly like one with Your help.
It is in that light that I reflect on life. I look back over the last 40 years and can see just how much I've been lifted, each and every time I fall. Jesus uses His Mystical Body to carry me.... to give me wisdom that I do not naturally have or deserve.... to strengthen me and help me grow despite myself.
I pray that by the time my life race is over, my meager efforts are enough because Jesus will complement and complete them. My musings may not be worth much to others, but they are to me. I've been repeatedly caught by Him and shown a greater goodness. There is tremendous value is seeing and knowing that. It took a good part of these 40 years to come to this...
I am me and I'm proud to be me. In high school, I was an athlete wanna be. I spent many nights crying because I sat the bench in the sport that captured my heart in middle school gym class - basketball. Having attended a small Catholic grammar school, and not having played any formal sports while there, I arrived at the public high school a very green athlete who wanted more than anything to be a star. I never was. In fact, I was far from it. I was laughed at by other players and coaches alike. I gave it my all, but it was never enough. The feelings of disappointment and failure got heavier with each passing year on the bench and each suicide I ran thinking that the coach would notice my heart and put me in the game. That happened a few times; however, more often than not, my twin and I watched while others lived the dream we so desperately wanted to live. The sadness crept into many aspects of my life, and the constant questioning of myself spread to way more areas than sports; sadly, it also led me to define my worth in terms of the value others placed on me.
Of course, my parents tried to show me differently, but as a teen, I thought they had to say the things they did, as they were my parents. Many adults, but specifically three special adults.... one an aunt, another a teacher, and the third the coach of a different sport, showed me differently. My aunt took me under her wing and showed me unconditional love without having to give or show anything in return. She made me feel special EVERY TIME I saw her, and she still does. Additionally, my 11th grade social studies teacher took me under his wing, showing me strengths I didn't know I had. He continued leading me far beyond high school and into college as he wrote often and sent me care packages just for being me. Another person that helped me was my Senior Year Lacrosse coach. I started lacrosse even later than basketball.... not in my Freshman year, but in my Junior Year. Nonetheless, he taught me the game and gave me hints and things to practice to improve. I wasn't the best player in the world, but I was his Point,or last defender before the goalie. He knew I wanted to score one day, but he also knew I had a natural ability as a defender. More importantly, he'd say things like, "Lavey, I need you at Point. Go get 'em." He believed in me and showed me that I could believe in myself. After graduation, he asked me to come back and help him coach the lacrosse camp for girls that summer....and then I got a small scholarship for Niagara's Division One Lacrosse Team. It was a new team, and I had the opportunity to be part of its growth because he taught me that I was good, that I had heart, that I could get even better, and that I had to capitalize on the heart and talents in the way that was best for the team. I did... and I went to Division one.
More importantly, and over time, the lesson grew off the field and applied to life. I remember writing a quote way back then.... "What's the difference between one who plays lacrosse and a lacrosse player?" "One who plays lacrosse cradles, passes, defends and scores; a lacrosse player takes the game off the field and into her life." Over time, I was able to do that. I learned more about my strengths and weaknesses and began to own who I am.
I am Sarah, an imperfect daughter of a perfect God.
I am Roman Catholic.
I am Sarah Rose, a twin who always had a life partner.
I am a melancholic sanguine who lives with anxiety from sensory processing disorder and OCD.
I am Sarah Rose Lavey Stodolka, daughter of Keith & Mary Lavey and the life partner of my best friend and husband, Andrew.
I am quirky and choose comfort over style.
I am Mommy to five here and four in Heaven.
I am a homeschooling mom who has been caught many times while in the blind-free-fall of trust.
I am a teacher and tutor.
I am honest, loyal, hardworking, loving, compassionate, and real.
I am proud that I was important enough to be thought of since the beginning of time and created to step into time at just the right moment.
That is me. I embrace me. Can you embrace you? Do you know, really KNOW, that you too were special and chosen, thought of from the beginning of time, crafted and created as the only you? Let it seep in. The beauty of Psalm 139 rings ever so true.
You know, as I drove to Auburn from Albany to celebrate my birthday milestone with my twin, I made use of my Amazon Prime and played music that spoke to me through various times in my life. Music is an equalizer for me because it allows me to get in touch with my feelings and to lift them to God in thanksgiving for all the gifts He's given me.... life lessons and catches that I've been able to grow from these past 40 years. Poignant memories flowed as I played songs from Tim McGraw, Tracy Bird, Celine Dion, Whitney Houston, Air Supply, Survivor.... and more.... And I'd like to recognize at least small clips of the many times I've been caught by His Mystical Body.
Thank You, Lord, for placing me in my family of origin.... with my parents & siblings, aunts & uncles, cousins and relatives that gave me roots and wings, most especially for those who wrapped a fragile child in their hearts and helped her grow.
Thank You, Lord, for catching me in high school with the adults that helped me see my unique value.
Thank You, Lord, for catching me in college with the friends who helped me discern where You called me to be.
Thank You, Lord, for catching me as I graduated Niagara and stepped foot into real life by providing me the perfect teaching job at Pavilion.
Thank You, Lord, for catching me those ten years I was a public school teacher through my friends in LeRoy/Pavilion who allowed me to claim who I am.... those who taught with me, prayed with me, lived with me, accepted me, and led me.
Thank You, Lord, for my husband who accepts me at my weakest and my strongest and allows me to be and to grow at my steady and slow pace.
Thank You, Lord, for catching me with my herd, for the women who became my family when Albany was new and scary.
Thank You, Lord, for catching me with my 40 Days and Magdalena groups who helped me proudly stand for faith and life.
Thank You, Lord, for catching me with my professional friends who helped guide me in the painful uncertainty of helping my children through educational & personal challenges.
Thank, You, Lord, for catching me with my homeschooling friends who helped me gain confidence in the ability to answer Your call.
Thank, You, Lord, for catching me with my Regina Caeli family who gave me a home in their community, who recognize & support my talents, who help me live & share all that is good and true and beautiful, and who encourage me to be exactly who I am.
I am forever blessed. I clearly see and claim that. I may not feel God often. I may not hear His voice like others do or answer with more than blind faith, but I am me and I am proud of who He made me to be. And I will never again question the beauty of me because The Ultimate Beauty crafted me.
40 years of catching.... this little bird thanks You for that.
You see, I want to love Jesus. I want to be someone who can communicate well with Him and who has no trouble giving up whatever is needed to devoutly live a vibrant faith. And, I've longed for this my whole life. I've gone back to my old journals and read my pleas that .... "Jesus, please help me to see, know, feel, experience, embrace, return, share, and spread Your love." Many times though, I make choices and live as if I felt the faith I long for. I don't often have that feeling. When I was a public school teacher, I hung a sign in my room that said, "Watch your thoughts, they become words. Watch your words, they become actions. Watch your actions, they become habits. Watch your habits, they become your character." Emulating the spirit of this, I continually choose God though I don't often feel Him. Last year, I began to feel like the biggest hypocrite as I wholeheartedly embrace Roman Catholicism through choices and intellectual reasoning, but I didn't feel God the way so many of the great saints did (or the way many of my friends seem to).
St. Therese saved me from the self-inflicted flagellation of supposed hypocracy. She provided the answer to my deepest need.... knowing God is there in the choice and really knowing that feelings aren't important. Having read her story of faith, of her understanding of being a little bird, I safely rest in who I am, a little bird. I can accept that I may not always feel God; that doesn't mean He isn't there or my faith is weak. In fact, it's a gift. What happens to the individual who is good at something and knows it? Pride can develop and dangers surface. I am little, and I know it. I have no reason to feel prideful, and I'm grateful for that. I have many quirks and faults, resulting in more failures than successes in my faith journey. I only ask that Jesus take care of my weakness, fill my emptiness, and lead me to Himself.
This little bird is working on knowing I can't live a life of faith on my own. I must admit I am weak.... I have a hard time praying without ceasing; I have a hard time with the day to day drudgery of laundry, cleaning, cooking, mopping and the like. I REALLY have a hard time suffering, even when I offer it up for others. In fact, by the time I get to the offering up, I've sought respite and complained so much that there is probably very little value left in it. Before reading St. Therese's story, I focused on these inadequacies and often despaired of attaining the relationship with Jesus that I so ardently desired. What a perfect way for satan to get at me -my own scrupulosity. (For my grammar conscious friends, I realize satan ought to be capitalized, but I don't want to do that). Now, thanks to St. Therese, I work on asking Him to fill me and let me borrow His sanctity so I can properly lead my family to Him when I do not have what it takes. He does. Lead Your Little Bird, Jesus.... I am not an eagle, but I can fly like one with Your help.
It is in that light that I reflect on life. I look back over the last 40 years and can see just how much I've been lifted, each and every time I fall. Jesus uses His Mystical Body to carry me.... to give me wisdom that I do not naturally have or deserve.... to strengthen me and help me grow despite myself.
I pray that by the time my life race is over, my meager efforts are enough because Jesus will complement and complete them. My musings may not be worth much to others, but they are to me. I've been repeatedly caught by Him and shown a greater goodness. There is tremendous value is seeing and knowing that. It took a good part of these 40 years to come to this...
I am me and I'm proud to be me. In high school, I was an athlete wanna be. I spent many nights crying because I sat the bench in the sport that captured my heart in middle school gym class - basketball. Having attended a small Catholic grammar school, and not having played any formal sports while there, I arrived at the public high school a very green athlete who wanted more than anything to be a star. I never was. In fact, I was far from it. I was laughed at by other players and coaches alike. I gave it my all, but it was never enough. The feelings of disappointment and failure got heavier with each passing year on the bench and each suicide I ran thinking that the coach would notice my heart and put me in the game. That happened a few times; however, more often than not, my twin and I watched while others lived the dream we so desperately wanted to live. The sadness crept into many aspects of my life, and the constant questioning of myself spread to way more areas than sports; sadly, it also led me to define my worth in terms of the value others placed on me.
Of course, my parents tried to show me differently, but as a teen, I thought they had to say the things they did, as they were my parents. Many adults, but specifically three special adults.... one an aunt, another a teacher, and the third the coach of a different sport, showed me differently. My aunt took me under her wing and showed me unconditional love without having to give or show anything in return. She made me feel special EVERY TIME I saw her, and she still does. Additionally, my 11th grade social studies teacher took me under his wing, showing me strengths I didn't know I had. He continued leading me far beyond high school and into college as he wrote often and sent me care packages just for being me. Another person that helped me was my Senior Year Lacrosse coach. I started lacrosse even later than basketball.... not in my Freshman year, but in my Junior Year. Nonetheless, he taught me the game and gave me hints and things to practice to improve. I wasn't the best player in the world, but I was his Point,or last defender before the goalie. He knew I wanted to score one day, but he also knew I had a natural ability as a defender. More importantly, he'd say things like, "Lavey, I need you at Point. Go get 'em." He believed in me and showed me that I could believe in myself. After graduation, he asked me to come back and help him coach the lacrosse camp for girls that summer....and then I got a small scholarship for Niagara's Division One Lacrosse Team. It was a new team, and I had the opportunity to be part of its growth because he taught me that I was good, that I had heart, that I could get even better, and that I had to capitalize on the heart and talents in the way that was best for the team. I did... and I went to Division one.
More importantly, and over time, the lesson grew off the field and applied to life. I remember writing a quote way back then.... "What's the difference between one who plays lacrosse and a lacrosse player?" "One who plays lacrosse cradles, passes, defends and scores; a lacrosse player takes the game off the field and into her life." Over time, I was able to do that. I learned more about my strengths and weaknesses and began to own who I am.
I am Sarah, an imperfect daughter of a perfect God.
I am Roman Catholic.
I am Sarah Rose, a twin who always had a life partner.
I am a melancholic sanguine who lives with anxiety from sensory processing disorder and OCD.
I am Sarah Rose Lavey Stodolka, daughter of Keith & Mary Lavey and the life partner of my best friend and husband, Andrew.
I am quirky and choose comfort over style.
I am Mommy to five here and four in Heaven.
I am a homeschooling mom who has been caught many times while in the blind-free-fall of trust.
I am a teacher and tutor.
I am honest, loyal, hardworking, loving, compassionate, and real.
I am proud that I was important enough to be thought of since the beginning of time and created to step into time at just the right moment.
That is me. I embrace me. Can you embrace you? Do you know, really KNOW, that you too were special and chosen, thought of from the beginning of time, crafted and created as the only you? Let it seep in. The beauty of Psalm 139 rings ever so true.
You know, as I drove to Auburn from Albany to celebrate my birthday milestone with my twin, I made use of my Amazon Prime and played music that spoke to me through various times in my life. Music is an equalizer for me because it allows me to get in touch with my feelings and to lift them to God in thanksgiving for all the gifts He's given me.... life lessons and catches that I've been able to grow from these past 40 years. Poignant memories flowed as I played songs from Tim McGraw, Tracy Bird, Celine Dion, Whitney Houston, Air Supply, Survivor.... and more.... And I'd like to recognize at least small clips of the many times I've been caught by His Mystical Body.
Thank You, Lord, for placing me in my family of origin.... with my parents & siblings, aunts & uncles, cousins and relatives that gave me roots and wings, most especially for those who wrapped a fragile child in their hearts and helped her grow.
Thank You, Lord, for catching me in high school with the adults that helped me see my unique value.
Thank You, Lord, for catching me in college with the friends who helped me discern where You called me to be.
Thank You, Lord, for catching me as I graduated Niagara and stepped foot into real life by providing me the perfect teaching job at Pavilion.
Thank You, Lord, for catching me those ten years I was a public school teacher through my friends in LeRoy/Pavilion who allowed me to claim who I am.... those who taught with me, prayed with me, lived with me, accepted me, and led me.
Thank You, Lord, for my husband who accepts me at my weakest and my strongest and allows me to be and to grow at my steady and slow pace.
Thank You, Lord, for catching me with my herd, for the women who became my family when Albany was new and scary.
Thank You, Lord, for catching me with my 40 Days and Magdalena groups who helped me proudly stand for faith and life.
Thank You, Lord, for catching me with my professional friends who helped guide me in the painful uncertainty of helping my children through educational & personal challenges.
Thank, You, Lord, for catching me with my homeschooling friends who helped me gain confidence in the ability to answer Your call.
Thank, You, Lord, for catching me with my Regina Caeli family who gave me a home in their community, who recognize & support my talents, who help me live & share all that is good and true and beautiful, and who encourage me to be exactly who I am.
I am forever blessed. I clearly see and claim that. I may not feel God often. I may not hear His voice like others do or answer with more than blind faith, but I am me and I am proud of who He made me to be. And I will never again question the beauty of me because The Ultimate Beauty crafted me.
40 years of catching.... this little bird thanks You for that.
Sunday, 25 January 2015
"Bam. Jesus ain't messin' around."
Wow. It's been a long time. I was reminded by several people just how long that time has been.... and just how much has gone on since the last time I blogged. Sorry 'bout that. Time is flying by. There's a lot to talk about, and I won't cover it all in this post, but before I say anything, I must say that I love the title of this one. It doesn't come from me. I stole it.... with permission of course. My friend, Stephanie, used it in a story she shared in my Theotokus group.For any Theotokus sister reading, I did ask permission to use it and would never take something from the group without permission. :)
Anyhow, let me sum up a story that Stephanie shared on Theotokus. It was a few months ago now, but I have the gist of it. She and her husband were waiting for pay day.... you know the kind of waiting you do when you NEED that paycheck to pay the bills let alone anything extra. When it came, Stephanie asked her hubster if she could get a cup of coffee from one of the local coffee hot spots. Because they had just cashed the family pay check, all he had was a hundred dollar bill, but he saw his wife's extra cute face and dreamy eyes, and couldn't help but give in to her one small indulgence. He handed Stephanie the $100 bill and waited in the car while she ran in to get the coffee. The cashier handed her, her coffee and was getting the "change" when Stephanie felt an inner call to give the money to the person behind her. Her inner dialogue with that voice went something like this:
"Lord, you know we have the truck bill to pay. I can't just give that gentleman $98."
"Give it to him."
"Well, ok, Lord.... but please remember the truck."
Can you imagine going back to the car and explaining to your life partner that you just gave a hard earned and needed $98 to the guy behind you? I'm not so sure I could have done the same thing with enough trust that my needs would be met. Not until, that is, Stephanie shared the rest of her story.
The next day, while preparing breakfast for her family, including her six children, the phone rang. Stephanie answered it. It was her husband, Zach's, boss. Zach came to the phone and the conversation that was exchanged is almost unbelievable. It sums up as this.... Zach's boss wanted to let Zach know he appreciated his work and understood that times were difficult lately for him because of all the truck issues he'd been having. To help out, Zach's boss was requesting permission to buy him a truck. A TRUCK..... What was Stephanie's one request when handing back the $98?? "Well, ok, Lord, but please remember the truck." I was floored when I read about this phone call; Stephanie's final comment after writing her story was aimed at highlighting the most important lesson in the midst of it all, the lesson being, Jesus provides. Her comment, which is now famous in my family and has stretched to many other places, was "Bam. Jesus ain't messin' around."
It was only two days after reading Stephanie's story that Andy and I were faced with a similar situation. We drove by the Target parking lot, and as often happened, there was a homeless man standing at the exit of the parking lot with a sign. We often drop off a hot or cold drink (based on season) or some food or a dollar or two. Once, my nine year old daughter gave him her own $5. This particular evening was a really cold, snowy evening. And when I say cold, I mean the brutal, bone-chilling cold. We had just come from the bank and moving money around to help pay some bills. Just a short few months previous, we were out of all debt related to a crushing law-suit (which we won but never really recovered from), from loans to remodel a house that we'd bought for $92K put $40K into necessary renovations and sold for $90K after the market bubble blew, and from various health care expenses that gave us huge hits on our high deductible system. But this year, as luck would have it, we had significant car problems with BOTH family vehicles AFTER taking out loans to invest in a HOPS business, a loan to help pay the deductible for our fifth baby, and my student loans starting back up on top of Andy's. Soooo, although it should have been a good year financially for us because we had paid a lot of debt, new circumstances made it so it wasn't a good year by the books.
With that background, we pulled out of the bank and switching money around to make it so we could get a meager down payment to purchase a new vehicle, when we saw the gentleman standing at the light near the Target entrance. Not far from him was a lady who we had never seen before with a sign too. We decided to get them some cocoa from Dunkin Donuts and to break a $20 bill for them to split. In the scheme of things, $20 isn't much, but for us at that time, it was, and for them, certainly, it would be. We headed back with cocoa in hand just a few minutes later. The lady was gone, so we handed the gentlemen a large cocoa and both $10 bills, repeating our version of Stephanie's request saying, "Lord, please just take care of Christmas for our children." We joked and said it would be taken care of because "Bam. Jesus ain't messin' around."'
We went to Auburn, NY to my family for Thanksgiving the following week. My sister needed some work done on her house, which I gladly did and was generously paid for. And my Dad, in his generosity, brought Andy to see his farm and handed him an envelope with the intention of it "helping with Christmas." SERIOUSLY.The intention was for the exact request we made. I'd share how much was inside the envelope, but I want my Dad to get his reward in Heaven. Suffice it to say, it was more than enough to take care of the three gifts each kid gets and the family exchanges we do each year. Further, my mom and sister both gave us gas money even though I told them we'd been given money for Christmas gifts. "Bam. Jesus ain't messin' around."
And that's not all. We received two Christmas cards with gift cards in them that were totally unexpected. One was to a restaurant so Andy and I could have some couple time (something we rarely do both for the lack of money and time) and another with a VISA $100 gift card from a parishioner at our church that loves our family. And some more cash from Dad for a date. Merry Christmas to us too. "Bam. Jesus ain't messin' around."
My lesson from that day stretches far beyond financial need. I reflected and can seen Jesus in many provisions for us over our lives. First, we were both given great parents and families; I was born an identical twin fulfilling my need to always have someone that I'd consider a life partner (twin then husband); Andy and I were both educated at a Catholic college that I almost didn't apply to but did because I received the invite to apply three times and saw it as a message; I was hired and about to sign a contract for a teaching job that was MUCH further from Andy when I got a call from a school district that I hadn't even applied to asking if I was interested in applying there because they received my name from another place I interviewed; my first rented apartment just happened to be in the house of a woman who suffered the same kind of anxiety I do and who was able to help me get to a doctor that really helped me; I was able to help run a boot camp for at-risk kids and it gave me the confidence I needed to teach with confidence; solid friends were found at every place I lived..... and on and on and on....bam...bam...bam...
We are now faced with homeschooling decisions for next year. This year, we decided that I'd homeschool my oldest, Marygrace, and allow my 2nd grader and Kindergartener to go to the local public school. The public school is fabulous. One of the best in the state, but some of the common-core curriculum I have philosophical differences with, some of the social issues which surface within a public school I'd still like to protect my children from for a little longer, and well, I LIKE being with my kids and would like to homeschool everyone.
So just do it.... right? Well, maybe. The road to this year gives some insight, for it just wasn't possible for me to homeschool everyone this year. I knew my limits. Towards the end of last year, I prayed about some things that had popped up during the year, which was my first year homeschooling. One of my children, my first-grader at the time, started to stretch her wings a bit in ways that I just didn't feel equipped to handle. If she got frustrated with something we were doing together, rather than take a break and try again, she started to shut down. We'd be reading a story, and if it became difficult, she stopped. I'd go over the phonics rule we were practicing and show her some examples, but she wouldn't try reading the story again. I tried giving her time to cool off, switching directions and doing another subject, scheduling something fun to do after school, reading with her first to "get it over with," getting rid of television until school work was done, and on and on....
I kept trying different things because I refused to let her give up on reading . That wasn't an option. It wasn't just the fact that she wasn't reading that really bothered me. She's a whip; deep down, I knew she'd pick it up eventually. The greater problem was the fact that by refusing to do it, she was questioning my authority as mom and putting tension between her and I that didn't need to be there. I do not want my parenting style to be one of force. In a Christian parenting class that I had taken, I learned exactly what I wanted my style to be; that is, I want to be an influential parent... the kind of parent that kids listen to because they respect their parents and know they are being led on a path that is good for them. When my first-grader stubbornly kept refusing to read, she set me off in ways I can't explain more for her outright disobedience than anything else. If I'm honest, yes, I was afraid she'd get behind her peers and not be able to catch up, but that fear came from having one child that really struggles with school, [And I truth be told I struggle with that blaming myself because I started her right at five in Kindegarten and didn't fight to hold her back when she should have been] so whenever my first grader refused to read, I did worry that I'd bring her to a place where school would always be difficult for her too. Really, though I worried more about starting a pattern of butting heads and disillusionment between us.
So, my conclusion was that my first-grader really needed another "teacher" in her life to get her by the points that I could not, either with my insecurities or my lack of knowledge in handling that refusal. We finished last year with a lot of upstairs time-outs an doing our reading work in the evenings when Daddy was around. We finished the full curriculum and she did well, but it saddened me to see the damage that happened when I became a forceful parent and put her upstairs all the time because I did not know how to be the influential parent and get her out of the protest mode she entered when things were difficult. I just didn't want that to happen again, so public school really became the place she needed to be.
Another thing that affected our decision to homeschool one child (my special needs child) and send some to pubic school this, was the birth of our fifth child. If I homeschooled all that were of school age, I would have had a resistant second-grader, a new kindergartner, a fourth-grader with newly found special needs, a two year old in the height of his search for independence, and a newborn home all at the same time. Many people can figure that out and easily know how to balance all of that. I knew deep down that if I tried, I could not. I didn't want to neglect the educational needs of my children by being stretched too thin. I applaud and respect those with more children who can do that much. But, I'm little old me.... with weaknesses that I couldn't overcome to homeschool everyone this year. While relieved to lean on someone else to help my now turned second-grader, I tearfully sent the two to school that needed to go..... trusting them to the great teachers they got. I'm delighted in their teachers. They both got great ones who are good for them....
But......I miss the family unit at home everyday. I miss the routines of morning prayer, breakfast, morning chores, saying the Pledge of Allegiance, singing our Seed Family Worship songs, and sitting at the table with our studies together. I miss starting the day when was good for us and the freedom from the fear of missing the bus. I miss being in control of what each learns, of deciding how much is enough work for them, of deciding when it was break and when it was lunch time. I miss the homeschool family activities that we had time for when everyone was home that were so much nicer when certain destinations were not busy - apple farms, animal farms, pumpkin patches, special masses, museum trips, trips to the firehouse... you know, the things that families do together happening during the week and not just on the weekend. I miss the necessity to work through fights and learn to move beyond them for deeper roots & relationships. Being that we spend way more time together when we homeschool, the ground rules for disagreements come in handy and everyone must actually use them and work on negotiating skills and practicing kindness even when angry. I miss doing our volunteer work like visiting the nursing home during the days, or meeting up with Daddy for lunch at the Grand Estate (our home), or saying the noon-day Angelus and doing noon day chores together. It was much easier to talk about the family doing the hard stuff together so we can enjoy the fun stuff together when we had opportunities for both everyday.
Instead, this year, we are frantic to catch the bus in the morning, morning prayer is individual as we all rush to the duties that must be done to get out the door on time, and evenings are spent doing homework and reading work that others say must be done. It is all valuable stuff. I was a public school teacher for ten years. I know homework is valuable stuff. But for me, that important stuff in homework CAN fit in with homeschooling while the important stuff of homeschooling doesn't fit in when going to public school.
Soooo..... I invite the Lord into our homeschooling decisions for next year. I feel like an answer has presented itself - a perfect mix of homeschool and going to school: Regina Caeli. Regina Caeli is a Catholic Hybrid Homeschooling opportunity where families go to school on campus twice a week and work from home three days a week. A permanent schedule is set; a common curriculum is taught; all students have teachers in the classroom in addition to their parents at home; there are a wide variety of wholesome activities to participate in; Catholic holidays are vacation days & there are opportunities to go to Mass together, and children learn at home with their parents and the chosen curriculum three days a week. It's win- win....
If.... we bring Jesus into the decision and ask Him to make sure it is right for us. You see, it is also very expensive to us who have a strict budget without a lot of wiggle room. It will most likely be between $6K and $7K for tuition, fundraising dues, uniforms and books. I have seen Jesus act swiftly and completely this year for us financially - and most strongly because my friend Stephanie shared her story and opened my eyes and people like my Dad lifted and carried being a literal answer to prayers. I can only hope and trust that next year will run the same, and that if Regina Caeli is for us, the funds needed will come about.... maybe from tax returns? Maybe by teaching there? Maybe by an evening job?
I look forward to when I write the sequel to this and can say, "Bam. Jesus ain't messin' around."
Anyhow, let me sum up a story that Stephanie shared on Theotokus. It was a few months ago now, but I have the gist of it. She and her husband were waiting for pay day.... you know the kind of waiting you do when you NEED that paycheck to pay the bills let alone anything extra. When it came, Stephanie asked her hubster if she could get a cup of coffee from one of the local coffee hot spots. Because they had just cashed the family pay check, all he had was a hundred dollar bill, but he saw his wife's extra cute face and dreamy eyes, and couldn't help but give in to her one small indulgence. He handed Stephanie the $100 bill and waited in the car while she ran in to get the coffee. The cashier handed her, her coffee and was getting the "change" when Stephanie felt an inner call to give the money to the person behind her. Her inner dialogue with that voice went something like this:
"Lord, you know we have the truck bill to pay. I can't just give that gentleman $98."
"Give it to him."
"Well, ok, Lord.... but please remember the truck."
Can you imagine going back to the car and explaining to your life partner that you just gave a hard earned and needed $98 to the guy behind you? I'm not so sure I could have done the same thing with enough trust that my needs would be met. Not until, that is, Stephanie shared the rest of her story.
The next day, while preparing breakfast for her family, including her six children, the phone rang. Stephanie answered it. It was her husband, Zach's, boss. Zach came to the phone and the conversation that was exchanged is almost unbelievable. It sums up as this.... Zach's boss wanted to let Zach know he appreciated his work and understood that times were difficult lately for him because of all the truck issues he'd been having. To help out, Zach's boss was requesting permission to buy him a truck. A TRUCK..... What was Stephanie's one request when handing back the $98?? "Well, ok, Lord, but please remember the truck." I was floored when I read about this phone call; Stephanie's final comment after writing her story was aimed at highlighting the most important lesson in the midst of it all, the lesson being, Jesus provides. Her comment, which is now famous in my family and has stretched to many other places, was "Bam. Jesus ain't messin' around."
It was only two days after reading Stephanie's story that Andy and I were faced with a similar situation. We drove by the Target parking lot, and as often happened, there was a homeless man standing at the exit of the parking lot with a sign. We often drop off a hot or cold drink (based on season) or some food or a dollar or two. Once, my nine year old daughter gave him her own $5. This particular evening was a really cold, snowy evening. And when I say cold, I mean the brutal, bone-chilling cold. We had just come from the bank and moving money around to help pay some bills. Just a short few months previous, we were out of all debt related to a crushing law-suit (which we won but never really recovered from), from loans to remodel a house that we'd bought for $92K put $40K into necessary renovations and sold for $90K after the market bubble blew, and from various health care expenses that gave us huge hits on our high deductible system. But this year, as luck would have it, we had significant car problems with BOTH family vehicles AFTER taking out loans to invest in a HOPS business, a loan to help pay the deductible for our fifth baby, and my student loans starting back up on top of Andy's. Soooo, although it should have been a good year financially for us because we had paid a lot of debt, new circumstances made it so it wasn't a good year by the books.
With that background, we pulled out of the bank and switching money around to make it so we could get a meager down payment to purchase a new vehicle, when we saw the gentleman standing at the light near the Target entrance. Not far from him was a lady who we had never seen before with a sign too. We decided to get them some cocoa from Dunkin Donuts and to break a $20 bill for them to split. In the scheme of things, $20 isn't much, but for us at that time, it was, and for them, certainly, it would be. We headed back with cocoa in hand just a few minutes later. The lady was gone, so we handed the gentlemen a large cocoa and both $10 bills, repeating our version of Stephanie's request saying, "Lord, please just take care of Christmas for our children." We joked and said it would be taken care of because "Bam. Jesus ain't messin' around."'
We went to Auburn, NY to my family for Thanksgiving the following week. My sister needed some work done on her house, which I gladly did and was generously paid for. And my Dad, in his generosity, brought Andy to see his farm and handed him an envelope with the intention of it "helping with Christmas." SERIOUSLY.The intention was for the exact request we made. I'd share how much was inside the envelope, but I want my Dad to get his reward in Heaven. Suffice it to say, it was more than enough to take care of the three gifts each kid gets and the family exchanges we do each year. Further, my mom and sister both gave us gas money even though I told them we'd been given money for Christmas gifts. "Bam. Jesus ain't messin' around."
And that's not all. We received two Christmas cards with gift cards in them that were totally unexpected. One was to a restaurant so Andy and I could have some couple time (something we rarely do both for the lack of money and time) and another with a VISA $100 gift card from a parishioner at our church that loves our family. And some more cash from Dad for a date. Merry Christmas to us too. "Bam. Jesus ain't messin' around."
My lesson from that day stretches far beyond financial need. I reflected and can seen Jesus in many provisions for us over our lives. First, we were both given great parents and families; I was born an identical twin fulfilling my need to always have someone that I'd consider a life partner (twin then husband); Andy and I were both educated at a Catholic college that I almost didn't apply to but did because I received the invite to apply three times and saw it as a message; I was hired and about to sign a contract for a teaching job that was MUCH further from Andy when I got a call from a school district that I hadn't even applied to asking if I was interested in applying there because they received my name from another place I interviewed; my first rented apartment just happened to be in the house of a woman who suffered the same kind of anxiety I do and who was able to help me get to a doctor that really helped me; I was able to help run a boot camp for at-risk kids and it gave me the confidence I needed to teach with confidence; solid friends were found at every place I lived..... and on and on and on....bam...bam...bam...
We are now faced with homeschooling decisions for next year. This year, we decided that I'd homeschool my oldest, Marygrace, and allow my 2nd grader and Kindergartener to go to the local public school. The public school is fabulous. One of the best in the state, but some of the common-core curriculum I have philosophical differences with, some of the social issues which surface within a public school I'd still like to protect my children from for a little longer, and well, I LIKE being with my kids and would like to homeschool everyone.
So just do it.... right? Well, maybe. The road to this year gives some insight, for it just wasn't possible for me to homeschool everyone this year. I knew my limits. Towards the end of last year, I prayed about some things that had popped up during the year, which was my first year homeschooling. One of my children, my first-grader at the time, started to stretch her wings a bit in ways that I just didn't feel equipped to handle. If she got frustrated with something we were doing together, rather than take a break and try again, she started to shut down. We'd be reading a story, and if it became difficult, she stopped. I'd go over the phonics rule we were practicing and show her some examples, but she wouldn't try reading the story again. I tried giving her time to cool off, switching directions and doing another subject, scheduling something fun to do after school, reading with her first to "get it over with," getting rid of television until school work was done, and on and on....
I kept trying different things because I refused to let her give up on reading . That wasn't an option. It wasn't just the fact that she wasn't reading that really bothered me. She's a whip; deep down, I knew she'd pick it up eventually. The greater problem was the fact that by refusing to do it, she was questioning my authority as mom and putting tension between her and I that didn't need to be there. I do not want my parenting style to be one of force. In a Christian parenting class that I had taken, I learned exactly what I wanted my style to be; that is, I want to be an influential parent... the kind of parent that kids listen to because they respect their parents and know they are being led on a path that is good for them. When my first-grader stubbornly kept refusing to read, she set me off in ways I can't explain more for her outright disobedience than anything else. If I'm honest, yes, I was afraid she'd get behind her peers and not be able to catch up, but that fear came from having one child that really struggles with school, [And I truth be told I struggle with that blaming myself because I started her right at five in Kindegarten and didn't fight to hold her back when she should have been] so whenever my first grader refused to read, I did worry that I'd bring her to a place where school would always be difficult for her too. Really, though I worried more about starting a pattern of butting heads and disillusionment between us.
So, my conclusion was that my first-grader really needed another "teacher" in her life to get her by the points that I could not, either with my insecurities or my lack of knowledge in handling that refusal. We finished last year with a lot of upstairs time-outs an doing our reading work in the evenings when Daddy was around. We finished the full curriculum and she did well, but it saddened me to see the damage that happened when I became a forceful parent and put her upstairs all the time because I did not know how to be the influential parent and get her out of the protest mode she entered when things were difficult. I just didn't want that to happen again, so public school really became the place she needed to be.
Another thing that affected our decision to homeschool one child (my special needs child) and send some to pubic school this, was the birth of our fifth child. If I homeschooled all that were of school age, I would have had a resistant second-grader, a new kindergartner, a fourth-grader with newly found special needs, a two year old in the height of his search for independence, and a newborn home all at the same time. Many people can figure that out and easily know how to balance all of that. I knew deep down that if I tried, I could not. I didn't want to neglect the educational needs of my children by being stretched too thin. I applaud and respect those with more children who can do that much. But, I'm little old me.... with weaknesses that I couldn't overcome to homeschool everyone this year. While relieved to lean on someone else to help my now turned second-grader, I tearfully sent the two to school that needed to go..... trusting them to the great teachers they got. I'm delighted in their teachers. They both got great ones who are good for them....
But......I miss the family unit at home everyday. I miss the routines of morning prayer, breakfast, morning chores, saying the Pledge of Allegiance, singing our Seed Family Worship songs, and sitting at the table with our studies together. I miss starting the day when was good for us and the freedom from the fear of missing the bus. I miss being in control of what each learns, of deciding how much is enough work for them, of deciding when it was break and when it was lunch time. I miss the homeschool family activities that we had time for when everyone was home that were so much nicer when certain destinations were not busy - apple farms, animal farms, pumpkin patches, special masses, museum trips, trips to the firehouse... you know, the things that families do together happening during the week and not just on the weekend. I miss the necessity to work through fights and learn to move beyond them for deeper roots & relationships. Being that we spend way more time together when we homeschool, the ground rules for disagreements come in handy and everyone must actually use them and work on negotiating skills and practicing kindness even when angry. I miss doing our volunteer work like visiting the nursing home during the days, or meeting up with Daddy for lunch at the Grand Estate (our home), or saying the noon-day Angelus and doing noon day chores together. It was much easier to talk about the family doing the hard stuff together so we can enjoy the fun stuff together when we had opportunities for both everyday.
Instead, this year, we are frantic to catch the bus in the morning, morning prayer is individual as we all rush to the duties that must be done to get out the door on time, and evenings are spent doing homework and reading work that others say must be done. It is all valuable stuff. I was a public school teacher for ten years. I know homework is valuable stuff. But for me, that important stuff in homework CAN fit in with homeschooling while the important stuff of homeschooling doesn't fit in when going to public school.
Soooo..... I invite the Lord into our homeschooling decisions for next year. I feel like an answer has presented itself - a perfect mix of homeschool and going to school: Regina Caeli. Regina Caeli is a Catholic Hybrid Homeschooling opportunity where families go to school on campus twice a week and work from home three days a week. A permanent schedule is set; a common curriculum is taught; all students have teachers in the classroom in addition to their parents at home; there are a wide variety of wholesome activities to participate in; Catholic holidays are vacation days & there are opportunities to go to Mass together, and children learn at home with their parents and the chosen curriculum three days a week. It's win- win....
If.... we bring Jesus into the decision and ask Him to make sure it is right for us. You see, it is also very expensive to us who have a strict budget without a lot of wiggle room. It will most likely be between $6K and $7K for tuition, fundraising dues, uniforms and books. I have seen Jesus act swiftly and completely this year for us financially - and most strongly because my friend Stephanie shared her story and opened my eyes and people like my Dad lifted and carried being a literal answer to prayers. I can only hope and trust that next year will run the same, and that if Regina Caeli is for us, the funds needed will come about.... maybe from tax returns? Maybe by teaching there? Maybe by an evening job?
I look forward to when I write the sequel to this and can say, "Bam. Jesus ain't messin' around."
Tuesday, 20 May 2014
Bed rest, books and babies
The gang is outside in the beautiful weather cleaning the van and helping "Dagi" install the new Dino Radian car seats. I am in the house, on my favorite couch, with my computer in hand and resting.... bed resting that is. So, I guess this is the conclusion of the pregnancy that God is using to increase my faith and trust in Him. He's funny that way, isn't He? The Big Guy upstairs? Scared to homeschool, Sarah? "Trust Me. Cast your cares on Me. I will catch you. " It sure didn't feel like a catch when I figured out I screwed up my NFP training for a race and found I was pregnant in the early part of my FIRST homeschool year. As I've said before, I want more children. I just wasn't ready to have them when I was free-falling with the biggest challenge of my life. I know I get sick when I'm pregnant..... always have, and I expect, I always will. The thought crossed my mind as soon as we made the decision to homeschool that this wasn't the year to have another as I had thought it may be - cause.... what if.... what if I got sick? Sicker than ever before? And guess what? I did..... and for longer than ever before too. Ok, Big Guy, what's that all about? That's a funny way to catch and lead, but I'm hanging on for the answer.....
As the toilet and the couch and I got really well acquainted those first four and a half months, I noticed that friends from all different groups stepped up to the plate when I didn't even ask for help. In fact, I'd turned down requests for "what can I do?" in my embarrassment at not being able to keep up. They came anyway. Friends from my "herd," friends from my homeschooling community, friends from my 40 Days for Life team/community, friends from Mom's Beat and MOPS, college friends that live in the area..... they all came.... to watch kids, to bring already cooked meals, to help clean, to work on our house, to help me homeschool, ..... they came. Got it. They were sent. That dear friends, was a safety net catch of a trust fall in God.
During this time, I faced a few personal issues that brought me deep inner pain.... I don't even want to go into generals about it, as I've worked very hard to keep things mostly to myself, my husband and my spiritual adviser. But it was painful and hurt my emotional psyche. And..... turns out there were deeper lessons in the particular problems that unfolded than meets the eye. That Big Guy can use painful situations to teach us something, and He taught me a lot.... namely... He is trustworthy; He is always there; He loves all and wants us to "look up" and think of only Him as no other opinion about us matters; He gave us family that will always be there and we can lean on them; He gave me a loyal, honorable spouse on which to lean on and learn from; He is the center, the cornerstone, the rock and He always will be (it is I, lowly little me, that walks away and feels alone, not Him who walks away and makes me alone).....And....last, but certainly not least.... a lesson on how to handle my own emotions. For many years, I thought that I was doing good when I walked away from a bad situation and did something to calm myself down. In many ways, I probably was; however, while that helps settle the anger in the moment, it doesn't bring resolution to the problem. It can isolate me from others as I hide in anxiety and not bring a needed holistic, healthy fix. In spiritual advisement, He showed me the tweak. I must first go to HIM in His Word... in prayer.... share the situation, in its entirety, and read Scripture or repeat small prayers/verses until I settle down. Then, He can speak to me, and I can learn from what is going on. I don't merely calm down and avoid the lesson. I embrace it with Him. Quite the tweak, eh? Strong lessons. Valuable lessons. And, lessons that came when I was trust-falling. Imagine that.
That brings me to now. Those lessons I learned mostly in spiritual advisement. (Be jealous, I have a good spiritual adviser...) God took over in a different way a few weeks ago when I went to visit my best friend Colleen. Colleen has some significant issues going on in her life, one of which could have been truly life-threatening. She had breast cancer a few years back. She had been experiencing some pain for a few months and had some testing done. Her liver enzymes were out of whack. And the ones that were screwy were ones that could suggest a few things.... liver cancer was one of those things. I was so scared for her.... for her daughter... for her family.... for me. She has been a spiritual beacon of hope and promise for me (and just about everyone in her life). Even from a distance we communicate all the time. She just couldn't have cancer again. She couldn't. I couldn't lose her. I went to her.... and Praise Be to God the Father, Son and Spirit, it wasn't cancer. She has some health issues.... but it isn't liver cancer. Another answer to prayer. While at Colleen's, just before Easter, I was reading some of her wonderful literature on Christ's passion. It inspired me to order some of my own and to focus on Him and His sufferings a bit more. I discovered I needed to get outside of myself and work on knowing and appreciating all that was done for me.... for us... for all time.
I ordered a life-changing book by Father Ignatius (now St. Ignatius) called: The School of Jesus Crucified: The Lessons of Calvary in Daily Catholic Life. It is a REALLY deep and serious book. Some of it is too much for my small mind. Well, a lot of it, actually. Some of the wordage strikes me as tough.... but a lot of it has such a ring of truth that I must pay attention. I've gone through and picked prayers from there that fit for me, and spend some time focusing on the daily lessons it presents. I'm not sure how to summarize it all for you, but here are a few things that hit me from there.....
1. Let thy first and last thoughts of the day be on the Passion of Jesus. (My summary of the explained why: It puts a focus on life outside yourself, helps create and grow a connection between you and Jesus, shows you how much Jesus (GOD) suffered for love of you, and helps develop an appreciation and love for Him who willingly chose all the suffering to prove His love.)
2. A quote that I have been and will be working on, especially after bed-rest is over: "Nothing can be more thoroughly in opposition to a well-regulated Christian life than late rising; for which reason never allow sloth to get the better of you, but rise early, and dress yourself diligently and modestly, remembering the presence of God."
3. "Remember the day you are now entering upon may be your last, and let your mind be deeply impressed with this truth." Honestly, this one has hit me strongly in the last few years. A lot of people close to my heart have made the transition from life through death to life. I've seen a lot of suffering of my dear family and friends as this has happened. It's true, people. We are not guaranteed one-hundred years. We cannot live as if we will never die; rather, we must live as if we will die today..... we must be ready and have done as much as we can to go to God in a way that makes Him proud. I want a good life review. I want to be one that hears "well done my good and faithful servant." I'm not there yet. I have a lot of work to do. Give yourself an honest reflection and see where you are in this journey. You owe it to yourself (and to your God who chose to suffer intensely to show His love for you).
4. One prayer, that is several pages long, starts out as: "I believe O Lord; but do Thou increase my faith. All my hopes are in Thee; do Thou secure them. I love Thee with my whole heart; teach me to love Thee daily more and more. I am sorry for having offended Thee; do Thou increase my sorrow....." Isn't that beautiful? It says so much of what I want to say. I am just a weak one in faith. I struggle like everyone else.... and the answer to that struggle is to knock, seek, ask and find.....
5. One last thing for now.... thirty-one days of meditation on the Passion. Each one has three parts to consider on one overall topic. They help you to see what happened to Jesus in an entirely different, more personal, loving way.... AND how what you do does the same to Him as those involved in the Passion. Intense is a good word for it. St. Ignatius suggests a minimum of 15 minutes a day reflection on the Passion. I can do that.... and I can see the fruits.... if even to know that I have a LONG way to go to be ready for my journey to Him.
The other book that I've really started to enjoy in my prayer life is God Calling by AJ Russell. This one was recommended by my spiritual directer....Sometimes I flip open the book after prayer and see what I turn to, and other times I read the suggested day. Whichever form I choose, I always get a good and relevant meditation. Why am I not surprised?
Bed rest....books.... babies..... time to come full circle. As you can see, I've grown this year. A lot.... and it was because God provided plenty of opportunity, plenty of lessons, plenty of making good from suffering, plenty of everything.
The last few weeks, I've started feeling better in the pregnancy. My sugars were under control (no more barfing because they were so out of whack), my iron count is up more, yada yada. I did, however, start to notice a few things I've never noticed before. While this is my 7th pregnancy (Isaac Andrew and Drew Allen, my two miscarried angels), I've never felt "real" contractions for so long; I've never felt such intense back pain and fluid pressure against my uterine walls; I've never had so much difficulty walking WITHOUT sciatica; I've never had such a hard time breathing when sitting or standing; no matter how much I drink, my urine is always, and I mean always, dark, sooo... I just had a feeling..... something was different.... wrong maybe?
I've been accused of being an alarmist in the past, so I tried to take this one slowly and keep it to just my family (mostly).... I found out last week what the problem is. I have too much, as in WAY TOO much, amniotic fluid. Who knew that could be a problem? "Not I," said the fly. I have officially joined one percent of pregnancies that have this issue. Polyhydramnios. It may or may not be serious. Here's what I know about me.... I have 28+ units of fluid.... I have many of the symptoms.... I am past the point where medication is safe.... I have made more fluid between the last two ultrasounds (and fluid production should stop around 32ish weeks).... I am not a supporter of amniocentesis.... I don't know EXACTLY how far along I am (each ultrasound suggests something different).... Matthias is past the point of using lung steroids in utero, but may not have fully ready lungs yet.... water breaking at home and in an uncontrolled setting could be very dangerous for both Matthias and I.
Where does that put me? BED REST until he's a week older and closer to being ready for delivery. I spent some time on Dr. Google and freaked myself out over all the possibilities of things that can go wrong. Don't do that. Wait for the doctor appointment to see what those things are. Dr. Google makes things seem as if all the horrible possibilities are imminent. Just as I started to freak out, I shared with my friend Paula after church what was going on. She talked some sense into me. Another catch by the Big Guy. I settled down enough to wait for the doc consult on Monday. It turns out the consult went very well. The doc I was recommended to is one of, if not the, best in the area. He came up with a plan and explained how everything should play out. He told me some of the worse possibilities are low, but that the closer to the due date we get, the more likely it can become they will happen.... because.... the more likely it will be to break my water outside of the hospital. That won't be good. Hence.... BED REST. Take away all conditions that may lead to water breaking, rest completely, and wait for the day and the plan.
Can we say that God caught me again?
And, before closing, let me tell you of yet another catch..... as news got out that I'm on bed rest, people from all different groups started reaching out to help again. At first, I felt awkward accepting help when I happen to have several friends who are suffering WAY MORE than I am now. But, as "luck" would have it.... after my first day on bed rest, I could totally and absolutely feel the difference in my body every time I got up and tried to do something.... contractions started coming more often.... pain was greater..... yada yada yada. So I talked to Andy, and we decided to accept help in the form of a meal train. It was set up and we received our first meal tonight. LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING. I can't believe the amount of stress that took off of us. Dinner was a quick warm up, and then Andy went on to continue getting ready for Matthias. Lady Life, my white van, has all five car seats properly installed. April, his van, is almost done being cleaned out... the kitchen, dining room, and living room are returned to order.... all in the time it would have taken to fully make dinner, clean the dishes, pick up after dinner etc..
Caught. I was caught again. And now, I'm learning another lesson. God's Will really does have our better interests in mind. We don't actually know it all. Huh.
This year.... many challenges... have led to bed rest, books, and soon.... a new baby....
As the toilet and the couch and I got really well acquainted those first four and a half months, I noticed that friends from all different groups stepped up to the plate when I didn't even ask for help. In fact, I'd turned down requests for "what can I do?" in my embarrassment at not being able to keep up. They came anyway. Friends from my "herd," friends from my homeschooling community, friends from my 40 Days for Life team/community, friends from Mom's Beat and MOPS, college friends that live in the area..... they all came.... to watch kids, to bring already cooked meals, to help clean, to work on our house, to help me homeschool, ..... they came. Got it. They were sent. That dear friends, was a safety net catch of a trust fall in God.
During this time, I faced a few personal issues that brought me deep inner pain.... I don't even want to go into generals about it, as I've worked very hard to keep things mostly to myself, my husband and my spiritual adviser. But it was painful and hurt my emotional psyche. And..... turns out there were deeper lessons in the particular problems that unfolded than meets the eye. That Big Guy can use painful situations to teach us something, and He taught me a lot.... namely... He is trustworthy; He is always there; He loves all and wants us to "look up" and think of only Him as no other opinion about us matters; He gave us family that will always be there and we can lean on them; He gave me a loyal, honorable spouse on which to lean on and learn from; He is the center, the cornerstone, the rock and He always will be (it is I, lowly little me, that walks away and feels alone, not Him who walks away and makes me alone).....And....last, but certainly not least.... a lesson on how to handle my own emotions. For many years, I thought that I was doing good when I walked away from a bad situation and did something to calm myself down. In many ways, I probably was; however, while that helps settle the anger in the moment, it doesn't bring resolution to the problem. It can isolate me from others as I hide in anxiety and not bring a needed holistic, healthy fix. In spiritual advisement, He showed me the tweak. I must first go to HIM in His Word... in prayer.... share the situation, in its entirety, and read Scripture or repeat small prayers/verses until I settle down. Then, He can speak to me, and I can learn from what is going on. I don't merely calm down and avoid the lesson. I embrace it with Him. Quite the tweak, eh? Strong lessons. Valuable lessons. And, lessons that came when I was trust-falling. Imagine that.
That brings me to now. Those lessons I learned mostly in spiritual advisement. (Be jealous, I have a good spiritual adviser...) God took over in a different way a few weeks ago when I went to visit my best friend Colleen. Colleen has some significant issues going on in her life, one of which could have been truly life-threatening. She had breast cancer a few years back. She had been experiencing some pain for a few months and had some testing done. Her liver enzymes were out of whack. And the ones that were screwy were ones that could suggest a few things.... liver cancer was one of those things. I was so scared for her.... for her daughter... for her family.... for me. She has been a spiritual beacon of hope and promise for me (and just about everyone in her life). Even from a distance we communicate all the time. She just couldn't have cancer again. She couldn't. I couldn't lose her. I went to her.... and Praise Be to God the Father, Son and Spirit, it wasn't cancer. She has some health issues.... but it isn't liver cancer. Another answer to prayer. While at Colleen's, just before Easter, I was reading some of her wonderful literature on Christ's passion. It inspired me to order some of my own and to focus on Him and His sufferings a bit more. I discovered I needed to get outside of myself and work on knowing and appreciating all that was done for me.... for us... for all time.
I ordered a life-changing book by Father Ignatius (now St. Ignatius) called: The School of Jesus Crucified: The Lessons of Calvary in Daily Catholic Life. It is a REALLY deep and serious book. Some of it is too much for my small mind. Well, a lot of it, actually. Some of the wordage strikes me as tough.... but a lot of it has such a ring of truth that I must pay attention. I've gone through and picked prayers from there that fit for me, and spend some time focusing on the daily lessons it presents. I'm not sure how to summarize it all for you, but here are a few things that hit me from there.....
1. Let thy first and last thoughts of the day be on the Passion of Jesus. (My summary of the explained why: It puts a focus on life outside yourself, helps create and grow a connection between you and Jesus, shows you how much Jesus (GOD) suffered for love of you, and helps develop an appreciation and love for Him who willingly chose all the suffering to prove His love.)
2. A quote that I have been and will be working on, especially after bed-rest is over: "Nothing can be more thoroughly in opposition to a well-regulated Christian life than late rising; for which reason never allow sloth to get the better of you, but rise early, and dress yourself diligently and modestly, remembering the presence of God."
3. "Remember the day you are now entering upon may be your last, and let your mind be deeply impressed with this truth." Honestly, this one has hit me strongly in the last few years. A lot of people close to my heart have made the transition from life through death to life. I've seen a lot of suffering of my dear family and friends as this has happened. It's true, people. We are not guaranteed one-hundred years. We cannot live as if we will never die; rather, we must live as if we will die today..... we must be ready and have done as much as we can to go to God in a way that makes Him proud. I want a good life review. I want to be one that hears "well done my good and faithful servant." I'm not there yet. I have a lot of work to do. Give yourself an honest reflection and see where you are in this journey. You owe it to yourself (and to your God who chose to suffer intensely to show His love for you).
4. One prayer, that is several pages long, starts out as: "I believe O Lord; but do Thou increase my faith. All my hopes are in Thee; do Thou secure them. I love Thee with my whole heart; teach me to love Thee daily more and more. I am sorry for having offended Thee; do Thou increase my sorrow....." Isn't that beautiful? It says so much of what I want to say. I am just a weak one in faith. I struggle like everyone else.... and the answer to that struggle is to knock, seek, ask and find.....
5. One last thing for now.... thirty-one days of meditation on the Passion. Each one has three parts to consider on one overall topic. They help you to see what happened to Jesus in an entirely different, more personal, loving way.... AND how what you do does the same to Him as those involved in the Passion. Intense is a good word for it. St. Ignatius suggests a minimum of 15 minutes a day reflection on the Passion. I can do that.... and I can see the fruits.... if even to know that I have a LONG way to go to be ready for my journey to Him.
The other book that I've really started to enjoy in my prayer life is God Calling by AJ Russell. This one was recommended by my spiritual directer....Sometimes I flip open the book after prayer and see what I turn to, and other times I read the suggested day. Whichever form I choose, I always get a good and relevant meditation. Why am I not surprised?
Bed rest....books.... babies..... time to come full circle. As you can see, I've grown this year. A lot.... and it was because God provided plenty of opportunity, plenty of lessons, plenty of making good from suffering, plenty of everything.
The last few weeks, I've started feeling better in the pregnancy. My sugars were under control (no more barfing because they were so out of whack), my iron count is up more, yada yada. I did, however, start to notice a few things I've never noticed before. While this is my 7th pregnancy (Isaac Andrew and Drew Allen, my two miscarried angels), I've never felt "real" contractions for so long; I've never felt such intense back pain and fluid pressure against my uterine walls; I've never had so much difficulty walking WITHOUT sciatica; I've never had such a hard time breathing when sitting or standing; no matter how much I drink, my urine is always, and I mean always, dark, sooo... I just had a feeling..... something was different.... wrong maybe?
I've been accused of being an alarmist in the past, so I tried to take this one slowly and keep it to just my family (mostly).... I found out last week what the problem is. I have too much, as in WAY TOO much, amniotic fluid. Who knew that could be a problem? "Not I," said the fly. I have officially joined one percent of pregnancies that have this issue. Polyhydramnios. It may or may not be serious. Here's what I know about me.... I have 28+ units of fluid.... I have many of the symptoms.... I am past the point where medication is safe.... I have made more fluid between the last two ultrasounds (and fluid production should stop around 32ish weeks).... I am not a supporter of amniocentesis.... I don't know EXACTLY how far along I am (each ultrasound suggests something different).... Matthias is past the point of using lung steroids in utero, but may not have fully ready lungs yet.... water breaking at home and in an uncontrolled setting could be very dangerous for both Matthias and I.
Where does that put me? BED REST until he's a week older and closer to being ready for delivery. I spent some time on Dr. Google and freaked myself out over all the possibilities of things that can go wrong. Don't do that. Wait for the doctor appointment to see what those things are. Dr. Google makes things seem as if all the horrible possibilities are imminent. Just as I started to freak out, I shared with my friend Paula after church what was going on. She talked some sense into me. Another catch by the Big Guy. I settled down enough to wait for the doc consult on Monday. It turns out the consult went very well. The doc I was recommended to is one of, if not the, best in the area. He came up with a plan and explained how everything should play out. He told me some of the worse possibilities are low, but that the closer to the due date we get, the more likely it can become they will happen.... because.... the more likely it will be to break my water outside of the hospital. That won't be good. Hence.... BED REST. Take away all conditions that may lead to water breaking, rest completely, and wait for the day and the plan.
Can we say that God caught me again?
And, before closing, let me tell you of yet another catch..... as news got out that I'm on bed rest, people from all different groups started reaching out to help again. At first, I felt awkward accepting help when I happen to have several friends who are suffering WAY MORE than I am now. But, as "luck" would have it.... after my first day on bed rest, I could totally and absolutely feel the difference in my body every time I got up and tried to do something.... contractions started coming more often.... pain was greater..... yada yada yada. So I talked to Andy, and we decided to accept help in the form of a meal train. It was set up and we received our first meal tonight. LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING. I can't believe the amount of stress that took off of us. Dinner was a quick warm up, and then Andy went on to continue getting ready for Matthias. Lady Life, my white van, has all five car seats properly installed. April, his van, is almost done being cleaned out... the kitchen, dining room, and living room are returned to order.... all in the time it would have taken to fully make dinner, clean the dishes, pick up after dinner etc..
Caught. I was caught again. And now, I'm learning another lesson. God's Will really does have our better interests in mind. We don't actually know it all. Huh.
This year.... many challenges... have led to bed rest, books, and soon.... a new baby....
Sunday, 27 April 2014
A shift in focus
Well, so far, all my blog posts have dealt with what I had started out talking about.... homeschooling. Recently, I've discovered that my blind leap of faith into the homeschooling arena, trusting on God to keep me floating, was completely rewarded with a year full of growth in faith and in my relationship with God. The fear of homeschooling, of making the leap even though I admired others who had done it but was afraid to do it myself, was at its root, a lack of trust in God. When I first thought about it in those terms, I felt very, very sad. I'm a cradle Catholic who has had so many blessings, opportunities, experiences and graces that have lifted me and carried me through my life. But I've also experienced my share of St. Therese's "dark night of the soul" where faith has become a choice that I made daily to continue on though I doubted God's love, feared God, didn't trust God, or any other number of slights against an all good, ever-present & loving God that my emotions and spiritual journey cast.
But.... through discussion, prayerful reading, and journaling, I've discovered a truth that should give hope to us all.... it doesn't matter just how far we've fallen and how much we've hurt God when we come back to Him with repentance, hope and love; one of His greatest mysteries is that the further we've been from Him, the more we've doubted and are willing to admit it and move on, the more God has in us to fill. Fill away, Lord, fill away. Forgive me for the times that I am human.... for the times I've been angry and asked how You allowed something to happen.... for the times I've been prideful and questioned why You didn't give a miracle in the way I requested.... forgive me for the times I've been angry at the rules You've given us to help lead us to happiness.... forgive me for the times I've fallen short of complete obedience to Your commandments.....
Oh, Lord, there is a lot to ask forgiveness for..... my lack of patience, my quick temper and my inability or unwillingness to at least try to control it when it starts to go off.... my surrender to bodily fatigue and pain without all that much effort to conquer it and continue on in my duties....
I could go on. And on. And on. I am a sinner. And even more so because I've been graced with the knowledge of You Lord since I was baptized as an infant. You have always been a part of my life with no seeds of confusion from outside influences on my family. And yet, I've failed. I clearly fall into the category of "to whom more has been given, more will be expected," and for that, my failures cost me more... as they cost Him more with the wasted time and all the "nos" I've given Him. I'm sorry, Lord, for my weakness in the fight against human frailty. Forgive me. And....
...so I ask to be filled, Lord, to my core with all Your goodness, love, mercy, hope.... replace all that is not of You in me with all that is of You and make me a better servant to reach out in evangelistic hope to a world that is bruised and broken.... a world that is filled with people who long to understand Your divine, merciful, all-encompassing love.... make me a channel of Your peace, Lord. Make me a channel of Your peace.
And so, from here on out, I will still journal on my lessons from homeschooling, but I feel that I need to also include the lessons shared by God to me to help me on my journey back to Him. I am so thankful for this year and so many of these lessons, and I hope that in sharing them, others can also be filled by Him.
Shalom.
But.... through discussion, prayerful reading, and journaling, I've discovered a truth that should give hope to us all.... it doesn't matter just how far we've fallen and how much we've hurt God when we come back to Him with repentance, hope and love; one of His greatest mysteries is that the further we've been from Him, the more we've doubted and are willing to admit it and move on, the more God has in us to fill. Fill away, Lord, fill away. Forgive me for the times that I am human.... for the times I've been angry and asked how You allowed something to happen.... for the times I've been prideful and questioned why You didn't give a miracle in the way I requested.... forgive me for the times I've been angry at the rules You've given us to help lead us to happiness.... forgive me for the times I've fallen short of complete obedience to Your commandments.....
Oh, Lord, there is a lot to ask forgiveness for..... my lack of patience, my quick temper and my inability or unwillingness to at least try to control it when it starts to go off.... my surrender to bodily fatigue and pain without all that much effort to conquer it and continue on in my duties....
I could go on. And on. And on. I am a sinner. And even more so because I've been graced with the knowledge of You Lord since I was baptized as an infant. You have always been a part of my life with no seeds of confusion from outside influences on my family. And yet, I've failed. I clearly fall into the category of "to whom more has been given, more will be expected," and for that, my failures cost me more... as they cost Him more with the wasted time and all the "nos" I've given Him. I'm sorry, Lord, for my weakness in the fight against human frailty. Forgive me. And....
...so I ask to be filled, Lord, to my core with all Your goodness, love, mercy, hope.... replace all that is not of You in me with all that is of You and make me a better servant to reach out in evangelistic hope to a world that is bruised and broken.... a world that is filled with people who long to understand Your divine, merciful, all-encompassing love.... make me a channel of Your peace, Lord. Make me a channel of Your peace.
And so, from here on out, I will still journal on my lessons from homeschooling, but I feel that I need to also include the lessons shared by God to me to help me on my journey back to Him. I am so thankful for this year and so many of these lessons, and I hope that in sharing them, others can also be filled by Him.
Shalom.
Sunday, 23 March 2014
Who learns the most from homeschooling?
There are many topics that are flying through my head yearning to flow through the keyboard and onto the screen.... but are they the right ones? Are they what God wants me to write, or are they what I want to write? Come Holy Spirit.....
This past weekend was a bit of a challenge. The crazy busy life of homeschooling and having four children home all day everyday slowed down as Andy took the middle 50% (Clara and Stephen) to see his parents so he could work on his new dream of growing Hops. He's gone into a small business with my brother-in-law, Chris, and my father-in-law, Charles. That's another story for another day. The weekend without 1/2 my family was 1/2 as crazy. There was no fighting.... not for a toy or the tv or cuddle time or anything. What a peaceful nothingness kind of sound. There was very little disobedience. Other than trying to get Simon, our lovely 2 year-old who thinks he's king of the Stodolka house to take a nap, there was a lot of peace. I was able to get a lot on my "to do" list done. I was able to go out to eat and not pay a week's worth of grocery money to do it.... I got a little reading and reflecting done.... and I had plenty of time with both Si Si and Punky. Time to play with playdough, read books, sing songs, give baths, clean messy rooms, cuddle, give hair cuts, chat about life, watch some favorite programs....and to well, just be with them. I got to hear Simon develop his language in his ever so cute way. Some of my favorites that popped up this weekend, "Dagi come home. Simon says Dagi come home." "Outside. Simon outside too." "Mommy sing. Mommy sing star song." or my favorite, when he clearly stole Marygrace's lollipop from the bank, she said, "Simon, did you steal my pop (sucker)?" And Simon, without missing a beat said, "no, Si share." Really? A two-year-old? As for Punky (Marygrace), I noticed her stretch a bit for Simon. We all have things we need to work on. Her "thing" is sharing. Instead of being angry that he stole her sucker (which would be her typical reaction), she kept laughing and repeating "Si share." Then she'd whisper to me, "Mom, I don't mind that he stole my sucker. He's little." That wasn't the only time she shared..... she shared her toys, her tv time, her favorite dinner when we went out and even her dessert - up to and including the last scoop of ice cream. So I had a lot this weekend.... a lot of peace and a lot of moments.
But... I didn't have half of my family. That's not the sort of thing where you can say we were half full, ya know? I missed my husband - my favorite person to talk to.... my human comforter.... my buddy.... my compadre.... my strength.... my direction....my protector.... my provider.... I am a bit of a traditionalist like that. I believe the husband is the head of the household. I don't take that as a slap in my face..... some women do.... but for me, I know God made men and women differently and doled out different roles for them. I get to be the heart of the household. He gets to be the head. I get to focus on emotional stability, comfort, building the kids up, just and appropriate discipline, schooling, making sure everyone gets the time they need with both parents, trying to maintain a comfortable atmosphere in the house, managing the activities schedule.... and on and on....I look to him for direction and advice; he looks to me for the many different emotional tasks that are involved with raising children. We aren't perfect in our roles, as we are human, but there is a safety in taking on the role we feel was doled out for us. And when he was gone this weekend, I felt a bit.... well, a bit empty.
And of course, I was missing two of my kiddos. Perhaps the best time to really know what anyone, most especially little people, contribute to the household is when they aren't around. Where was my kissy-boy (Stephen)? Here's a kid who has tempers that are hot and fast (and often destructive), but when he's not in that mode is the most loving of little boys who gives me at least a hundred kisses a day. I never thought before I had children that I'd have to teach one of them that one kiss at a time is the appropriate method of showing affection. And I missed his curly head digging into my body as he plants kisses all over the place. And my Bearsie.... Clara Rose..... my mini-me who's a Tom-boy and a little spit-fire with a dry humor that is advanced for her age, a knack for knowing just what to say and do to help her mother, and an intuition about people that is truly remarkable.... an intuition that I'm (we're) working to channel into the positive instead of the negative, as she does clearly understand just how to get under each person's skin when she wants to.
The weekend reminded me of the positive in our busy life. It gave me a chance to think about the week ahead and all that needs to be done. It is a busy time in our homeschooling, as we want to get everything in and finish close to the time when Matthias is to be born. When the other half of my family came through the door, I was so relieved that they had all traveled safely.... that they were back where they belonged.... that we were together again.... There were plenty of hugs and kisses and I love yous.
And about ten minutes later, while getting ready for bed, the fighting started. Gone were the phone calls with the excited voices as siblings connected, and in their place was a return to normalcy. As soon as the first fight happened, my buzzer went off. (I'm sure we all have a buzzer that goes off, but most of us don't name it as such. It comes from the feeling that a button has been pushed that turns the anger thermometer on and plunges the red up the scale - FAST). So tomorrow, we go back to normal. And homeschooling continues.
The children will continue their studies, and I will focus on those of course, but I will also be back at the battle of controlling the buzzer, of praying to know how to properly intervene (or not) in the fights, of asking God to know how to handle each situation as it arises.... I will be back to being pruned by my Creator in the day to day. I'm not always game for that. I don't always appreciate it as I should, for I'm not good at accepting suffering in its many forms. Nonetheless, tomorrow the day to day starts again. And in the midst of my personal pruning from the Big Guy, I will be back on track for trying to help four of His little people entrusted to us as parents to also know how to know their faults/weaknesses and to work through them....(of course, I can only do that if I can, with God's help, control my buzzer and demonstrate patience) So when I ask, who learns the most from homeschooling, I think.... I think.... it's me.
This past weekend was a bit of a challenge. The crazy busy life of homeschooling and having four children home all day everyday slowed down as Andy took the middle 50% (Clara and Stephen) to see his parents so he could work on his new dream of growing Hops. He's gone into a small business with my brother-in-law, Chris, and my father-in-law, Charles. That's another story for another day. The weekend without 1/2 my family was 1/2 as crazy. There was no fighting.... not for a toy or the tv or cuddle time or anything. What a peaceful nothingness kind of sound. There was very little disobedience. Other than trying to get Simon, our lovely 2 year-old who thinks he's king of the Stodolka house to take a nap, there was a lot of peace. I was able to get a lot on my "to do" list done. I was able to go out to eat and not pay a week's worth of grocery money to do it.... I got a little reading and reflecting done.... and I had plenty of time with both Si Si and Punky. Time to play with playdough, read books, sing songs, give baths, clean messy rooms, cuddle, give hair cuts, chat about life, watch some favorite programs....and to well, just be with them. I got to hear Simon develop his language in his ever so cute way. Some of my favorites that popped up this weekend, "Dagi come home. Simon says Dagi come home." "Outside. Simon outside too." "Mommy sing. Mommy sing star song." or my favorite, when he clearly stole Marygrace's lollipop from the bank, she said, "Simon, did you steal my pop (sucker)?" And Simon, without missing a beat said, "no, Si share." Really? A two-year-old? As for Punky (Marygrace), I noticed her stretch a bit for Simon. We all have things we need to work on. Her "thing" is sharing. Instead of being angry that he stole her sucker (which would be her typical reaction), she kept laughing and repeating "Si share." Then she'd whisper to me, "Mom, I don't mind that he stole my sucker. He's little." That wasn't the only time she shared..... she shared her toys, her tv time, her favorite dinner when we went out and even her dessert - up to and including the last scoop of ice cream. So I had a lot this weekend.... a lot of peace and a lot of moments.
But... I didn't have half of my family. That's not the sort of thing where you can say we were half full, ya know? I missed my husband - my favorite person to talk to.... my human comforter.... my buddy.... my compadre.... my strength.... my direction....my protector.... my provider.... I am a bit of a traditionalist like that. I believe the husband is the head of the household. I don't take that as a slap in my face..... some women do.... but for me, I know God made men and women differently and doled out different roles for them. I get to be the heart of the household. He gets to be the head. I get to focus on emotional stability, comfort, building the kids up, just and appropriate discipline, schooling, making sure everyone gets the time they need with both parents, trying to maintain a comfortable atmosphere in the house, managing the activities schedule.... and on and on....I look to him for direction and advice; he looks to me for the many different emotional tasks that are involved with raising children. We aren't perfect in our roles, as we are human, but there is a safety in taking on the role we feel was doled out for us. And when he was gone this weekend, I felt a bit.... well, a bit empty.
And of course, I was missing two of my kiddos. Perhaps the best time to really know what anyone, most especially little people, contribute to the household is when they aren't around. Where was my kissy-boy (Stephen)? Here's a kid who has tempers that are hot and fast (and often destructive), but when he's not in that mode is the most loving of little boys who gives me at least a hundred kisses a day. I never thought before I had children that I'd have to teach one of them that one kiss at a time is the appropriate method of showing affection. And I missed his curly head digging into my body as he plants kisses all over the place. And my Bearsie.... Clara Rose..... my mini-me who's a Tom-boy and a little spit-fire with a dry humor that is advanced for her age, a knack for knowing just what to say and do to help her mother, and an intuition about people that is truly remarkable.... an intuition that I'm (we're) working to channel into the positive instead of the negative, as she does clearly understand just how to get under each person's skin when she wants to.
The weekend reminded me of the positive in our busy life. It gave me a chance to think about the week ahead and all that needs to be done. It is a busy time in our homeschooling, as we want to get everything in and finish close to the time when Matthias is to be born. When the other half of my family came through the door, I was so relieved that they had all traveled safely.... that they were back where they belonged.... that we were together again.... There were plenty of hugs and kisses and I love yous.
And about ten minutes later, while getting ready for bed, the fighting started. Gone were the phone calls with the excited voices as siblings connected, and in their place was a return to normalcy. As soon as the first fight happened, my buzzer went off. (I'm sure we all have a buzzer that goes off, but most of us don't name it as such. It comes from the feeling that a button has been pushed that turns the anger thermometer on and plunges the red up the scale - FAST). So tomorrow, we go back to normal. And homeschooling continues.
The children will continue their studies, and I will focus on those of course, but I will also be back at the battle of controlling the buzzer, of praying to know how to properly intervene (or not) in the fights, of asking God to know how to handle each situation as it arises.... I will be back to being pruned by my Creator in the day to day. I'm not always game for that. I don't always appreciate it as I should, for I'm not good at accepting suffering in its many forms. Nonetheless, tomorrow the day to day starts again. And in the midst of my personal pruning from the Big Guy, I will be back on track for trying to help four of His little people entrusted to us as parents to also know how to know their faults/weaknesses and to work through them....(of course, I can only do that if I can, with God's help, control my buzzer and demonstrate patience) So when I ask, who learns the most from homeschooling, I think.... I think.... it's me.
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