1. Though I have mentioned it on Twitter, I have not officially complained about a certain two-year-old’s magnetism for mud.  I have resolved, instead, to hold off on potty training until mud season is over, because I can only handle so many outfit changes an hour.

2. I have wanted to give up on a certain Lenten project, but I haven’t.  I have also wanted to do more (you know, because I can never do enough), but I haven’t.  Instead, I’ve been holding steady, offering my small failures to God as a little gift of humility and taking the graces as a sign of love.

3. Tonight is leftover night, because I’ve been cooking this week (not with a plan, mind you, but still).

You’ll find more small successes today, as you will every Thursday, at Faith & Family Live.

The answer to my questions about God came in the form of the most wonderful boy I had ever met, and the most loving and accepting set of in-laws that I could ever hope for.  I had no reason not to, so I started going to Mass every Saturday, and I loved it!  I think that the saints are so cool, and the ceremonies are so inspiring (although I think the Methodists have better hymns).

When we decided to get married, I even started down the road to becoming Catholic.  In the end, I couldn’t fool myself, and I had too much respect and affection for both my in-laws and the priest to fake it.

In the end, this is what it comes down to for me: I just can’t believe that there really is a God, no matter how hard I try.  I know a lot of social scientists who don’t, and studying extraordinary beliefs (even though we can’t study believing in God, because God is outside of science) might be the reason, I think most of us had doubts before graduate school.

I’ve never been able to believe in things that don’t have tangible effects, and for me, there are no effects enacted by God that can’t be explained by human factors.  But, as any good scientist will tell you, God is outside of science, and I fully acknowledge that my non-belief is exactly that: a matter of belief. I would never presume to think that people who do believe in God are stupid or naïve.

I still enjoy going to church, even though I’m not a believer (I hope no one is offended by my presence).  I have always liked the singing, which was always the part I enjoyed the most as a child.  I like the feeling of community that suffuses the church; I like the quietness and the peace and the light streaming through old stain glass windows.  I like the messages of hope and love and compassion and goodness delivered in the sermon.  I like holding hands with my husband, and smiling at my family, and wishing them peace.

I like the sentiment, and I appreciate it.  I just approach it from a different direction.  Similarly, I look forward to the baptisms of my nieces and nephews as celebrations of their new lives; I marvel at how mature they’ve become, and how amazing it is that they’re old enough to receive first communion or confirmation.

In other words, I love my family and respect their beliefs, even though I have not come to hold the exact same ones.

Next week, Brittany will discuss “coming out” as an atheist.

Outside my window: It’s not my window and it’s not early morning as I look out, but there is sunshine and piles of snow waiting to finish melting. Glorious!

Rambling thoughts: Spring is springing and this Sunday is the time change. Usually I complain…but I’m not this year. I’m holding my arms open and welcoming spring (and ignoring the wasps).

In thanksgiving: For family. For hugs around my legs. For baskets of clothes to fold and a prayer to say as I fold them.

Folded hands, bowed head: For a special, special intention that I’ve been holding close for many months.

Kitchen meanderings: I have a kitchen? No, seriously, I am so out-of-tune with my kitchen…and that’s OK.  I signed up for the free Rouxbe trial through Catholic Foodie and…(plug your ears, I’m going to start yelling in my excitement)…WOW!  It’s just what I’ve been complaining about for years.  So.  My menu is suffering a bit for lack of planning, and there’s no hope for it anytime soon, but as long as I keep making corn bread (I almost have Danielle’s recipe memorized), I think I’ll be forgiven.  And hey, doesn’t spring = grill?  (It does this year!)

Nose inserted: I’m working on slowly reading the Catechism and companion books.  For my fun reading, I just started In-Sight, by Gerard Webster, which I received from the author.  I think it’s going to be one of those novels that I’m not going to be sorry to tell you about…but I need to stay awake during my reading time first (the book is not putting me to sleep…I’m just getting started too late!).

Recent reads: Oh, I can’t wait to tell you about Lost Mission, by Athol Dickson, and there’s at least one post brewing in me about Strong Fathers, Strong Daughters, by Meg Meeker.

In my ears: I’m catching up on podcasts, but I’m also really enjoying the Gerard Faucheux album I downloaded a few weeks ago.  If you haven’t checked it out, you should.

Around the house: Toddler sleeping, preschooler watching a movie, mother-in-law talking on the phone.

A favorite thing: The weekly novel installments at CatholicMom.com. Right now, they’re featuring Through the Open Window, a book I read recently and found very entertaining.

Food for thought: From my Mary Vitamin this morning:

I beg you, my Divine Jesus, to send me a humiliation whenever I try to set myself above others. But, you know my weakness, Lord. Every morning I make a resolution to practice humility and in the evening I recognize that I have committed again many faults of pride. At this I am tempted to become discouraged but I know that discouragement is also pride. Therefore O my God, I want to base my hope in You alone.

The Prayers of Saint Thérèse of Lisieux, (ICS Publications: 1997)

Worth a thousand words:

Is Lent really almost at the halfway point?

Really?

The reminder I really need this year is that Lent can start at any point.  I’m succeeding and failing in equal parts, making this a typical year in many ways.  What I’m struggling with is different than last year, but the thing I’m succeeding with is also different.  One thing, in particular, is different.

This year, I’m spending Lent with Mary.

You can read about some of my ideas for spending the rest of your Lent with Mary at Faith & Family Live, and you can share your ideas too.  I’d love to hear them.

(Note on the picture: NO, my redbud tree isn’t flowering. Last check, it’s not even budded out yet. But a girl can dream…)

1: Writer or Reader?

This week, I’ve been spending a lot of time at the Catholic Writers Conference Online.  I’m finding, once again, that all this networking with writers is stimulating me to buy books.  Some of them are as you’d expect, about writing and such.  But some of them are fiction.  Oh, how my heart soars with a good novel!  I love a good story.  Though I find myself reading a lot of nonfiction, fiction is where my heart is as a reader.

And I think the chances of me writing fiction are, well, nil.  (I’m not throwing down a challenge, mind you, just sharing where things are now.)

In any event, this book buying has me considering, once again, how linked the roles of writer and reader are for me (and for many others too, I think).

2: 1000 True Fans

On one of the forums at the Catholic Writers Conference this week, someone shared this link to an article about how, if you have 1000 True Fans, you can make a living doing your art.  Pretty interesting.  What do you think?

3: Reading the Catechism

I’m not far into the Catechism, which I started for Lent, but I’m already loving it!  I’m also reading the Compendium and The US Catholic Catechism for Adults as companions.  I thought, at first, that this imposing pile would be too much.  But the Catechism is broken into such bite-sized chunks and the US Catechism really is such a great resource to help guide me (just as so many of you mentioned!).

I never before considered just sitting down and reading the Catechism.  For one thing, LOOK AT IT.  See #1…I’m a novel gal at heart.  Here’s nonfiction taken to some extreme lengths, but it’s not bad.  It’s not inaccessibly written, which I did already know from referencing it, but which never ceases to amaze me.

I’m going to try to formulate more cohesive thoughts about it, and possibly even have my priest guest post, but…it might be a while.  I seem to have bigger ambitions than ability of late.

4: Spring is Coming

Here’s how I know:

• Wasps are suddenly appearing, crawling and weaving drunkenly, on the windowsill by my desk, on the stairs, in the kitchen.
• The smell of skunk is on the road and outside the house (though I hope not on the dogs…but the amount of barking seems to be directly proportional to the odds of them getting sprayed).
• The sun’s heat, though faint, is at least melting some of the mountains of snow.
• My calendar assures me that next Sunday is the much dreaded time change.

5: The Time Change

Oh yes, it’s that time of year.  Who are the people who think this is great again?  In the spring, there’s something to be said for the kids (in theory) sleeping in, but then there’s the whole other issue of fighting the kids to bed an hour earlier.  Then there’s the whole “what’s the REAL TIME?” discussion that takes place in my head for about two weeks.

6: In Other Places

This week, I had a chat with the lovely Lisa and the exquisite Elizabeth on the Faith & Family Livecast.  We talked spring cleaning and spiritual simplifying (so I was quiet a lot).

If you are a fan of my Mary Moment segments on Catholic Moments, then you should keep your ear tuned to the Catholic Foodie this week for a treat.

7: Leave the Room for 10 Minutes…

Jen Fulwiler of Conversion Diary hosts Quick Takes each week…be sure to visit her and see the rest of the round-up!

But…

Well, it’s turned out differently, but I’m working on my attitude about change.  And, of course, there are always small successes, if not the other kind, right? 

1. I bought some new jeans. And they fit! (I get absolutely nothing from telling you where they’re from. I can tell I’m going to be a lifelong, raving customer.)

2. I finished a novel that I’ve been working on for far too long (months?), and it was amazing!  (Both the feeling of finishing it AND the excellent writing/plot/EVERYTHING).  Now to review it…maybe next week’s success?

3. My Lenten fast this year has been something small. But the success in that has been that I’ve been keeping with it…and quietly.  I think a few of the people in my life, the ones who know me oh-so-well, know what it is, but I’ve been really focusing on not talking about it this year.  (So mentioning it here doesn’t count, does it?)

I’m late with this, but you can still share yours and cheer for everyone else over at Faith & Family Live.

Even as a small child, I had skeptical tendencies. As a toddler, I had to personally determine whether “hot” meant the same thing for fire, water, the furnace, the stove, candles, and the liquid potpourri. (I like to think that this is a sign of my natural curiosity, rather than stupidity, because I am a social scientist, so now I have a job that eerily parallels this experience, as experiments have to be replicated over and over before an effect can be deemed valid.)

I spent my childhood in a state of apathetic agnosticism once I was old enough to ask existential questions. I went to church every Sunday, but I had my doubts, mostly because some of the kids that spent the most time there and whose parents were the most “devout” were the least Christian, in the sense that Christian means kind or humble or charitable or at least unlikely to make fun of you and pull your hair.

I was a thoughtful kid who grew up to be a skeptical adult, and I couldn’t help noticing that my prayers for people to be less poor or to not die went unanswered.  “Mysterious ways” didn’t seem like a good justification for arbitrary punishments to be meted out to good people, at the same times hypocritical and plain selfish behavior went presumably unnoticed.

What kind of God, thought my seven-year-old self, could be so capricious and cruel?  If there was a God, thought my ten-year-old self, where is he and what exactly is he doing?  If coincidences and self-delusions are so likely, thought my twenty-something-self, why should I believe in the supernatural at all?

In next week’s post, Brittany will discuss being a respectful family member.

Photo by NCBrian

The word I used was “sucks.”

“Change SUCKS,” I wrote.

(And, for me, it does.)

Maybe that’s not the best word choice.  But it’s the one that resonated with me, the one that spoke best to what I was trying to get across in that post.

I am not writing here to defend or explain my word choice, but to explore something else, something that fascinates me endlessly as a writer and a reader, a mother and a friend, a woman and a conversationalist: the topic of the words we use.

People who know me well and have known me for years know that my use of words has changed over the years.  I used to have quite a potty mouth, and in the right amount of stress, I often default to some of the slang and violent language that was such a habit in the past.

“Sucks” is one of those words.  I don’t like it.  I would prefer to feel challenged or pushed or tested.  The truth is, though, that sometimes words like “sucks” explain exactly how I feel and make exactly the point I want to make.

I realized this morning that I had revealed to you something I didn’t necessarily intend to reveal.

That is a bit of truth about myself.  It’s also a bit of what makes a writer or a personality approachable and real, isn’t it?

I’m not perfect.  I know I say that a lot, but in yesterday’s post, you had a glimpse of it in a way you rarely do.  You can believe, now, that I have ticked family members off (often), that I have let people down (frequently), that I have failed (and will fail again).

So often, people tell me that they struggle with devotion to Mary.  I so understand this.  I’ve looked at her from across the church, holding a squirming toddler.  I’ve punctuated my struggles with Miss Five-Year-Old Attitude with glances at her.  She looks so flawless, so unapproachable.

Mary probably didn’t use words that make me wince in the “I shouldn’t say that” part of my mind, but she must have felt those feelings that inspire me to use them.  The feelings are human; the response is where my choice to sin or not to sin comes in.  (Is using “sucks” a sin?  Probably not.  In fact, I’d say No.  Some of the other words I might use, though, I wouldn’t say No with such confidence…)

The reminder, the lesson, is to let Mary be my guide in word choice as in all else.  She never fails to lead me to her Son, if only I’ll look to her and get over the hurdle of what I see as the distance between us.

The distance, you see, came from me.  I’m the one who walked away, who imagined it there, who grew it to the size it is.

She’s been over my shoulder, trying to hold me closely, all along.

May she hold you closely too, in your word choice as in all else.

Image source

I was going to title this post “Change SUCKS,” because that’s just on my mind today, and has been for a few weeks.

Change is fun in many ways, invigorating even.  I’ve come to realize, though, that change causes me a lot of stress.

Whether it’s a new life situation or a different room arrangement, I don’t often choose excitement as my first reaction to change.

Usually, I pout and stomp and say things like “Change sucks.”

I used to work with an annoyingly upbeat guy who had a mantra, “Your feelings are not reality.”  He’d pipe up with this at about the time I was croaking “Change SUCKS” from beneath the piles of ideas on my desk.  He was like a little bird singing a happy song and all I wanted was to lounge under the storm clouds of my bad attitude.

I’m having one of those Mondays where Bad Attitude + Low Self Esteem = Change Sucks Mentality.  All day, his voice has been in my head reminding me that my feelings are not reality.

I don’t think Mary ever looked at her life and declared that change sucked. Faced with an unexpected pregnancy, she went to share the news.  When she realized she was going to give birth — to the Savior! — in a crude stable, I’m betting she didn’t start sulking and refuse to talk to Joseph for the rest of the night.  Given the the order to flee to Egypt with only what she had on her back, she probably didn’t moan about the timing.

Seeing her Son on that dusty road in Jerusalem, back striped from the scourging, stumbling and looking terrible, I don’t think she shook her fist at God…or at Pontius Pilate or the soldiers.  I don’t think she blamed a bad day or let it get her down.

On that very worst of days, Mary was facing change in a way that was hard indeed.  I’ve been at the foot of the cross a few times.  Talk about hard and life-altering.

We have all been at the foot of the cross.  We have all suffered greatly (though we may not think so).

What’s this have to do with change? In Mary, standing at the foot of the cross, I have my call to action about my resistance to change.  In Mary, toiling through everyday life, feeling frustrated and keeping her smile, I have my reason for fighting past this attitude.  In Mary, I have my mentor in how to approach change.

My soul magnifies the Lord,
And my spirit rejoices in God my Savior.
For He has regarded the low estate of His handmaiden,
For behold, henceforth all generations shall call me blessed.
For He who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is His name.
And His mercy is on those who fear Him from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with His arm:
He has scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts.
He has put down the mighty from their thrones,
and exalted those of low degree.
He has filled the hungry with good things;
and the rich He has sent empty away.
He has helped His servant Israel, in remembrance of His mercy;
As He spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and to His posterity forever.
(Luke 1:41-45, New Revised Standard Edition)

(Not really.)

But I won’t be here. (Meaning on my blog, or, quite possibly, on any social networking sites.)

(Though Ree and I look great together, don’t we?)

Or there.

(That was Mardi Gras.)

This is the amazing Junie, who catches things out of thin air.

And these are the Budweiser horses. We didn’t really care what horses they were. We were just happy to have the smell of horse. (If only my screen had that smell…)

(I’m tired just looking at these pictures again.)

(And really, I’m only posting this for my parents.)

(Oh, and my Number One Fan.) (You know who you are, Number One Fan.)

See you Monday! Have a great weekend!