Frailty

These days my own frailty is being made painfully clear.  I have not been able to find a good groove since school began in early September, and now in my last week of pregnancy have had to make peace with the fact that I just can't do everything.  It's funny how demanding these last few weeks can be, in a time when you have so little to give - because you know that no matter what, very soon you will have even less to give, so you'd better do what you can now.  The balance of living in what is my reality for the moment, while at the same time knowing that very soon I will have a whole new reality, can be both challenging and encouraging at the same time.

I attended a women's adoration at the beginning of the month.  In the days and weeks leading up to it I found myself not only confronted with my own burdens, but also those of several people close to me whom I love dearly, and I found myself before the Blessed Sacrament asking the question, "what is humanity?"  Immediately the answer came back to me: frailty.  And it occured to me that each one of us present that evening had her own burdens, her own problems that she was bringing before the Lord.  In fact that every person in one way or another is burdened, is frail. Sometimes we run from it, sometimes we embrace it, and sometimes we bring it to Jesus.  But regardless of how we deal with it, we are all the same, so very fragile.

And being ripe with child, the beauty of the parenthood analogy is ever before me.  No newborn baby refuses their mother's help.  They beg and plead for it endlessly, until it is satified and they are at peace.  And we look at that and say, "isn't that beautiful?"  We don't scoff at the child's lack of independance, or turn down our noses that they didn't make it through on their own.  Why then do we expect so much of ourselves?  We were made to be needy, so that our need would direct us back to the only One who can satisfy us, our Heavenly Father.  And so it makes sense that sometimes, especially for stubborn people like me who want so desperately to feel like they have it all together, God allows everything to fall apart.  So that I can beg and plead for Him, and He can wrap me in His arms and take care of it for me, until I am at peace in His embrace. Sometimes God allows you to feel the weight of your burden so that you know how much you need His help.

"Cast your cares upon Him, lay your life upon Him for only He is worthy to stand. In tribulation trial and sorrow, when you can't see through tomorrow, He'll reveal to you the frailty of a man." (John Michael Talbot)

Life These Days

...is exhausting!  The last weekend of summer was a crazy frenzy of parties (for friends going away, visiting family, and birthdays) that I wouldn't have changed for anything.  Summer went out with a bang, and boy what a summer it was.

But then I didn't slide into fall quite as easily as I thought I would.  There was of course the neverending cycle of housework that went undone over the holiday weekend, that was mine to contend with.  Along with the start of a new school year, which in my household means homeschooling three little ones from K-3.  And oh yeah, I'm 36 weeks pregnant.  Which means that there is a neverending amount of work to be done, that requires a neverending amount of energy and motivation.   And some of those things are in short supply around here.

I have been feeling pretty desperate these days, as the reality sets in that I am getting bigger and am physically just not able to do everything I used to.  No problem, right?  In a few weeks the baby will be here and my body will be back to normal.  Wait a minute...in a few weeks THE BABY WILL BE HERE!!!  Meaning I will have all of this stuff to do on top of caring for a newborn!  How will I cope then, if I'm barely keeping my head above water now?

Through our school of community, a group of friends and I have been thinking about the question, "is reality always positive?" for some time, and these days that is what gets me through.  Because my particular situation - shere exhaustion and occasional overwhelmedness - is only a small part of reality for me.  Taken on its own, that's pretty negative, desperate even.  And yet, there is a bigger picture that is my life at this moment, that is anything but negative.  There is the joy of living with this incredible family, with these incredible kids.  There is the wonder of the new life that is growing inside of me, that I will (finally!) get to meet in a very short time.  There is the miracle of Christ present to me each day, in each moment of despair, saying, "I am with you, just breathe.  I will take care of you."  And you know, He really does.

Yesterday about mid-afternoon, I was standing over the sink about halfway through a mountain of dishes when I felt completely physically overwhelmed.  I could have put my head down then and there and had a nap.  My thoughts drifted to everything I had left to do - the vaccuuming, the laundry, supper - and I thought, "if I stop now, none of this will get done. But how do I work through this when I am so pregnant and so tired?"  I decided I would offer up the rest of this work as a prayer.  For sure I would finish the dishes, since it didn't make sense to leave them halfway done.  I had to do supper.  Vaccuuming fell off the list that day, and the kids were able to help with the laundry.  And though I pushed through, I still didn't feel good about my day, because I hadn't accomplished what I set out to do, what I could normally do any other day.

And then my husband came home. And the first thing he said was, "wow, the kitchen looks great!"  Then he went to the bedroom and shouted, "and you got a lot of laundry done too - you've had a productive day!"  And he really liked the supper I made, which is pretty good because I'm a kind of hit-and-miss cook (sometimes it turns out great, sometimes not so much!) and he is a very honest subject.  Then this morning he texted me from work to say how good it was to come home to such a clean house, and that he was so grateful that I loved him so well.  And all of it in the moment seemed to be so much work, and so much desperation.  But Christ was there, walking me through it, so that even though I didn't realize that the work I was doing was good, the good was nevertheless there.  It has been my great joy to see it in hindsight, having missed it the first time around.

I know the Lord is challenging me to let go of my own preconceptions about how life should be, and in particular what a perfect day should look like (how a good Mom does it).  As life continues to become more intense in my house, I pray for the grace to do the work I need to do, and the flexibility to change as is necessary for the good of my family.  To let go of the things I can let go of, and learn to depend on those around me.  To continue to do everything I can to care for the ones I love so much.  To not think any task is too small to make a difference, and do all things in love.  And most of all, to do all things with my eyes fixed on Jesus, who guides my weary feet along this path.

Five Years Ago

Five years ago, amidst many an "I hope this is a girl!", I delivered my third child who was, just like the two before him, a perfect little boy.  I can't say that I didn't utter those words myself, but it was very early on in the pregnancy.  It's funny, because with the first two it didn't seem to matter as much - your first is your first, and then to have another boy for my first to play with just seemed appropriate.  But when I discovered that I was expecting another baby, my heart just automatically moved to wanting a girl.

I knew that whoever this baby was, it was from the moment of conception.  And so, while I hadn't found out the gender of the baby for the first two pregnancies, I decided that I wanted to for this one.  I didn't want to spend the entire pregnancy hoping for a girl if it was a boy - I wanted to be excited for whoever this baby was.  Convincing my husband however, proved to be challenging.  And while he was adament that he didn't want to know, in my stubborness I decided I would just find out anyway (I could, after all!) and that I would just not tell him.  Thinking I wouldn't be able to keep the secret to myself, he resigned himself to finding out as well.  And just like that, the decision was made in my favour.

Somewhere along the way I was praying about the baby, and was really struck with the mystery of who this little one is.  The more I prayed the more I realized that the life this child was living inside my womb was one completely closed to my eyes.  And I imagined that it was a time, probably the only time in their whole entire life, where their existence would be just between them and God.  For nine months the baby lives in this world closed off to everyone else, and I just completely fell in love with that side of my baby, the one known by God alone.  I knew then and there that I wanted to leave it until the birth day, until I fixed my eyes on the baby for myself (and not a digital image), so we could meet each other for the first time at the same time.  I knew then I wanted to wait.

And the Lord changed my heart for this baby.  No longer did I find myself wanting one gender over the other - I was excited simply to be having a baby.  I was beside myself with joy at the announcement, for the third time, "it's a boy!" on the day of Stephen's birth.  I remember feeling so much peace in the weeks following his birth, and this sense of completeness that if this is all the children I ever have, I am happy.  If I only ever have boys, I am happy - he completed our little family.

To this day as the middle of our five children, he still has that unique way of rounding out our family.  From the very beginning he just slid right into our lives like he had always been there.  He was such an easy baby, and but for a few bumps characteristic of the early years, he continues to be that calming, gentle spirit that completes all of us.  He is bright, confident, and full of joy - and has a way of wrapping himself right around your heart.  He did that even before I ever knew who he was.

Five years ago, I could never have imagined what a beautiful boy he would become.  He makes my heart happy for more ways than I could ever put into words, but mostly because of who he is - my boy, my third boy, my little spark of life, my Stephen.

Happy fifth birthday Stephen.  You are the joy of my heart!

Wanting for Something

I am five weeks away from delivering my sixth child, and am doing some serious nesting.  Getting my little home ready for one more child has been thrilling, because with each new move not only am I closer to meeting my new baby, but I am also discovering that the space I have, while small, is everything I need to be happy and raise a family - even a large one, even with more children after this one (God willing). 

It was only a few months ago that I really began to feel settled in this space that I have.  For the first time in my life I have been living with the feeling of being completely satisfied with what I have.  None of my debt disappeared, my house didn't expand, and we didn't win a lottery - what happened within me was even more profound, a moment of grace where the Lord made me understand that what He has given me is good, is enough.  Since then I have been living with this euphoric freedom, almost giddy about my tiny little house, with as much children as can possibly fit jammed into small bedrooms together (two in one, three in the other).  I feel satisfied.

And then, through a school of community that meets at our house once a week to study readings together and share our own personal experiences of Christ in our everyday lives, we began talking about this word, satisfied, in the context that we should never feel that way, because then we stop searching.  And I struggled with this, because for so long (and even still) it is the word I most feel describes where I am at with life, and even with my relationship with the Lord - I am satisfied.  And I find freedom in that.

Who are you baby?  We will know soon!

This evening after tucking the kids into their respective beds, after a successful week of pairing my toddler and preschooler together in one room (even putting them down together, awake, without issue!) and spending some time in my now vacant nursery, with the blue blankets on one side and the pink ones on the other (we don't know the gender of the baby yet) I was filled with gratitude.  And as I puttered around my kitchen tidying up a weekend's worth of mess that had been neglected to spend time with family and friends, I was happy.  And it dawned on me that the change that has happened in me is not that I am totally satisfied with every aspect of my life, but that I am satified with the things that are given to me as a gift - that I am not longing for material things as much as I once did, the bigger, perfectly clean house that always looks spotless when friends come to visit. The Lord is teaching me that people are far more valuable than things.  But I realized also that this while satifaction with my material goods, simple though they are, is a good thing - it is not enough.  I need to allow that to point me Heavenward; to be satisfied with the little I have on earth is not enough by itself because it is not my permanent home, it is a temporary step on a journey to perfection that cannot be found in this world, but CAN be found in the next. 

Lord, may my happiness with the gifts I have been given in this world always allow me to feel Your touch, so as to awaken within me a desire for You and the joy that awaits me in eternity.  May my longing never be for material things, but for the joy found in You alone.

Chicken Farming

The kids were on board from day one

For the past three months, we have been chicken farmers.  It's something my husband has wanted to do for several years, but took quite a bit of coaxing to get me on board.  I thought they would smell.  I thought they would make a mess in our yard.  I thought they would be even more living things demanding my time when it is so scarcely scattered among the living beings that already occupy my household.  Bad idea, I thought.  Bad.

Baby chicks, cozy in our mud room. 

And yet, as it turns out, 2012 was the year to dive in and give it a try.  And I am so glad we did.  Because true to his word, my husband has assumed 100% responsibility for the care and maintenance of these birds (which, apart from building the infrastructure to house them, is quite minimal).  And they add so much to our property, not the least of which is farm-fresh eggs which we collect daily.  We got them as day-old chicks at the end of April, and kept them in the house for the next two months while my husband and some good friends worked tirelessly to finish the coop and outdoor run.  We got four "pullets" (grown hens) in July and they began to lay several weeks later. The ones we got as chicks are not laying yet, but will start hopefully in the next couple of weeks.  It has been an adventure.

One of our boys feeding the fully-grown meat birds

In addition to the laying hens, we also got meat birds.  These are birds whose sole purpose in life is to eat, get fat, and be slaughtered for food.  It has been interesting to confront the attitudes we (and others around us) hold about animal slaughter, but something I am happy to be doing as a family.  It's never any fun to end the life of a living creature, especially one that you have nurtured and cared for from a baby.  And yet, most of us don't think twice about going to the supermarket and picking up a pre-processed chicken to feed our family.  I like being connected to the process.  I hope it helps us to respect the animals, who give their lives to feed our family, and to never be wasteful or take them for granted.  And I am comforted that the birds in our care receive good care for the extent of their lives, while often times the birds on commercial farms are kept in less-than-humane conditions, and are not cared for as pets. 


Most importantly, I am happy to be contributing in a more direct way to our family's food supply.  I visited a farm with the kids last fall and was so struck by their way of life, their connection with the land, and how their labor was so initimately linked to their family's livelihood (they tilled the soil, they worked the land, they harvested the vegetables that fed their family - they rarely bought food at a grocery store). In the future I hope to take on vegetable gardening as well.  But that's another journey for another day.

In the meantime, I am sincerely appreciative of the many blessings God gives my family to make our own place in this world.  And I am happy to have these little animals in our family, to care for, to provide for us, and to enrich our lives.  Farm life, I think I'm going to like it.

Visiting the laying hens

Collecting eggs

These little guys are not so bad after all

Time Marches On

Little water boy!

Summer.  The time of year when weeks and months go by and you feel like you barely have time to blink.  When you teeter aimlessly between total exhileration and complete exhaustion, and try not to get sunstroke in the process.  It's crazy, it's relaxing, it's fun, it's exhausting.  And before you know it, it will be gone.

Of course there is nothing I can do about how quickly this time seeps away.  I want to enjoy every minute, and make the most of this beautiful season before it is gone.  It is an exciting time for the kids, who get to visit with people they don't have much opportunity to see through the year, or go on day trips to fun places that are just too much to squeeze into a normal school week.  They get to escape the hot house with Mom and relax on a beach, or spend days at a time playing - just playing - in the yard with their friends. 



He found a lady bug!

And then September rolls around, and Mom breathes a sigh of relief.  No, I'm not the Mom from the Staples commercial skipping through the store picking out school supplies and singing, "it's the most wonderful time of the year" while my kids mope along behind me.  This is my fourth summer with school-aged children, and it's the first where I've felt completely free to enjoy them, because it's not a ticking alarm telling me when it's time to hand my children back over to the school system for another ten months.  Up until the birth of my fifth son almost two years ago, my entire parenting journey had been burdened with these kinds of things, that made the passing of time seem so dreadful. First was maternity leaves, which I always measured in fractions of how close to when I needed to go back to work (the first half was great - but I spent the second half trying not to think about the fact that I had less time ahead of me than behind me).  And I will never forget the summer before my oldest started Kindergarden.  It was all I could do not to sulk the whole season away.  Every day that passed was a day closer to when my little boy would be out of the house for the greater part of the day, for most of the week.  When my fifth son was born in November of 2010 my oldest was still attending a private school, and I will never forget how sad it was that we were all home and bonding with this brand new baby, and he wasn't there.

I made the decision to homeschool not for myself, but because I saw a need in my son that I worried could not be met in the traditional school system.  I had a brand-new baby (and three other young children) when we took it on full-time in January of 2011.  I was scared, but courageous - I was doing it for my boy.



Visiting with an ox - he was a bit scary!

And an amazing thing happened - it completely transformed me.  It wasn't completely unmanageable, and I wasn't being nearly as heroic as I thought.  There was no need - all God was calling me to do was simply to live.  That in devoting myself 100% to each member of my family I would not be spread-thin, but that I would discover the complete substance of who I am.  It was all the logistics around getting him ready and off to school, packing lunches, making sure homework was done, dealing the endless string of discipline issues that comes with having a spirited boy in a class full of spirited children (which, let me tell you, is emotionally draining!) - those were the things that nearly broke me in two.  As is God's way, sometimes you can't see the whole picture until you follow where He is leading you.  Only after you've walked a little way are you able to look back and see the wisdom with which you were guided.



Feeding some goats

This year three of my children are school-aged.  Which means that I have three very big reasons to be extra thankful when September rolls around.  For the first time in my entire parenting journey I don't feel like the summer is being taken away from me.  I don't feel regret every time something comes up that I just can't say no to - I am free to enjoy these days, this special time, and to watch the excitement in my children as they soak in the best that summer has to offer. All without regret or worry, because come the school year nobody is going anywhere.  Which is good news all around, because we have some serious bonding on the schedule with a certain someone who is set to make an appearance somewhere around October 9.

Hurray for summer!  Here's hoping I have the energy to keep up with everything this season throws our way.



Lazy days of summer

Peace Prayers

Yesterday was a bad day. Life has been crazy lately, and yesterday I was feeling the weight of it all.  Not to mention the day was grey and the kids couldn't go outside.  Needless to say, we were all pretty bummed out.

At eight, six, four 1/2, three and 18 months, each of the kids has their own "quirks" that challenge me according to their particular stage in life.  I struggle on a good day trying to walk patiently through these days, but with everything going on and the miserable day that it was, I was completely empty.  For the first time in a long time, I lost it - several times.  I felt awful.  I texted my husband and said, "I don't want to be everything, and I don't want to be nothing...I just want to make it through without being crushed."  I spent the day up and down between high and low points, calling on the Lord for help and lamenting my crazy, unpredictable schedule.  

I heard the words to a familiar song, and was tremendously comforted.

In my heart
there’s a sadness building up
Every turn adds to the cup
As the losses match the measure of my gains
In the shadow of this curse
Where the best implies the worst
If you’re like me you’ll need to hear somebody pray

·        May the Lord bless and keep you
May His face shine upon you
May His graciousness be like an endless stream
May the Lord show His favour
To your house and your neighbor
Until last remaining strains of striving ceaseMay He grant you peace.

(Steve Bell, For the Journey). 

It reminded me of another time a few years ago when I had a similar moment, that time on my way out for work in the morning.  I was struggling trying to get all of the kids ready when one of the older boys refused to get dressed - and I lost it.  I felt guilty all day about it, even though I apologized and he moved on pretty quickly.  I couldn't shake my guilt over the whole thing, and I was driving somewhere at noon hour that day and heard that song, and my heart just opened up in a prayer.  Sometimes, we really do just need to hear someone else pray - may the Lord grant you peace.  And then, as yesterday, the Lord filled my heart with peace, as I set about my journey once more.

It's easy to drown in guilt, especially when the mistakes you make are so huge.  But that's not where God wants us to stay.  Guilt can be a tremendous motivator for change I think, but if we stay there it can also bring us down into deeper despair, and consequently deeper sin.  Wherever you are on your journey, whatever your struggles, know that people are always praying even when you can't pray yourself.  May He grant you peace for the journey, as you strive to walk each day along His path.