Seven Sentences

May 6, 2011 By 4 Comments

With thanks to Jennifer, our hostess for 7 Quick Takes Friday

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I have exactly five more minutes (give or take a minute) before the girls explode and insist on dinner, so this week’s takes will be especially quick.

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Is Mother’s Day really THIS weekend?

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I’m trying not to panic about a lot of things, and that’s just one of them.

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The Major Life Change is moving right along, and by next week (fingers crossed), I may just be able to announce what it is.

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We have had one day of sun in the last seven, and I’m realizing during this day of sun, just how much the cloudiness and raininess have been affecting me.

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I am also becoming aware, in a painful way, of how much interrupted sleep leads to an increase in my Yell Factor with the kids.

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Lack of sleep + crazy stuff to do + kids in general + lack of sleep = less time than I’d like for reading through the awesome pile of books waiting for me (including the one I’m currently working on, The Face of God: The Rediscovery of the True Face of Jesus, by Paul Badde, whose book on Our Lady of Guadalupe was one of the best I’ve read)

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Small Town Life and Mary

September 20, 2010 By Leave a Comment

A Mary Moment Monday post

I’ve been writing at least weekly about Mary for quite some time, and especially with my projects in the last year, I’ve “met” many different titles and apparitions of the Blessed Virgin.

In each of these “meetings” with Mary, I have found myself tugged and pulled and, well, changed a little bit. Our Lady of La Salette, whose feast we celebrated yesterday, is no different. In fact, rereading what I wrote about her last year, I started humming and downloading the song I reference. I also started thinking about small town life.

Just yesterday afternoon, wailing out some of my favorite songs as I powerwashed my porch (um, yeah, finally starting the project I was going to do months ago), I thought about growing up in Small Town America. We lived in the country until I was a senior in high school, not in town proper, but I spent a good portion of my time — especially into my teen years — wanting out of the small town.

Why, I wondered to myself yesterday, did I want out so badly? What was I seeking? Where was I heading? Was it just typical teenage rebellion?

I don’t know. But here I am, back in a small town (in the country, not in town proper). I can gripe and laugh about the shortcomings of this small town life, and I can also pontificate about what I love and cherish.

The way the sun filters through the leaves in the tree outside my office windows as the combine across the road works its way across the corn field? Definitely worth mentioning. The fact that we can stretch and bend and not worry about neighbors overhearing our, ahem, conversations with the dogs (or each other)? A big plus in my book. The miles I have to travel to get milk when I realize at 5:00 that I’m out and dinner must be served? Well, let’s keep things positive, shall we?

It’s so easy to look at small towns as quaint scenery or inconvenient slow-downs as we rush through to get to our final destination. Maybe they’re only important and critical to the people who make up their three-digit populations.

And Mary.

When she has taken the time to visit, it’s often been to out-of-the-way places. Like the hill country in Judah. Like the tiny village of La Salette, France.

I can’t help but think of Mary as a small town girl. She probably commiserates with those of us who longed for the experience of getting out of said small town, but I can’t help but think that she also appreciates the longing others of us have for the wide open spaces, the comfortable familiarity, the smallness of our small town lives.

Something about my small town life inspires prayer in a different way. And that’s my take-away from Our Lady of La Salette:

…it’s easy to overlook a simple component that Our Lady of La Salette reminds all of us, and that she admonished the two children:  we should be in prayer morning and night.  This is easier said than done in our hustle and bustle society.  If time is a problem, the Virgin Mary continued, at least say an Our Father and a Hail Mary.  Perhaps she knew that women like myself, bearing the burden of busy, would roll our eyes at the idea of continual prayer.  “When will I get my work done?” I imagine myself asking her.  “Just say an Our Father and a Hail Mary, dear,” she replied through the La Salette apparition.

You can read my full column here. And it’s worth taking some time to meditate on what Our Lady of La Salette had to say in her messages.

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Fall Morning Daybook

September 7, 2010 By 6 Comments

Outside my window: The sun is shining down on the field of corn across the road, making me think of what a bad year for corn it’s turned out to be. There’s a sudden rush of traffic going by and then silence. It’s supposed to be hot today, but it’s early fall cool outside right now.

Rambling thoughts: We’re not getting an Indian Summer, though we are getting an Ohio September. I’m seeing it through fresh eyes as my newly-moved sister-in-law observes the craziness of Ohio weather. (How quickly you forget!) Her daughters, who moved away seven years ago to the tropical clime of New Orleans when they were wee things, have never seen corn harvest or the changing seasons up close, and I catch myself smiling and appreciating this land I love even more. It’s good to have the blessing of a new perspective, and it makes me reflect, once again, how God can bring good from all situations.

In thanksgiving: For belly laughs. For kicks in the rib by a person inside me. For 89 days (give or take) until we meet our little guy. For puppies and the giggles they inspire. For friends who call me to pray with me when my world crashes in on me. For sister-friends who love me. For the near completion of the first draft of my first book.

Folded hands, bowed head: For the intentions of a novena I’m praying. For those who struggle with infertility, those who feel forced into abortion, and those who face the end of their lives. For those who grieve. For a special intention.

Kitchen meanderings: Last night, my young philosopher asked me if I would make spaghetti and meatballs “just like Nanny.” Though I’m not one for being inspired in the kitchen, there’s motivation when I’m specifically asked to cook something. I had fun with apples on Saturday, and I plan to go buy another big bag of them today to have more fun. (And if I’m the only one who wants to eat my apple creations, that’s just fine by me.)

Nose inserted: My current read, The Mystery of Joseph, by Fr. Marie-Dominique Philippe, is really giving me a new perspective on one of my favorite saints. Though it’s not a big book, it’s packed with thought and I find myself unable to whip through it. I’m savoring it, and I can feel myself growing closer to this special man. It’s also, interestingly, giving me some new insight into Mary. I have also been enjoying Let Nothing Trouble You, by Heidi Hess Saxton, during my morning devotions. I put down Pilgrim’s Progress, but I am still plodding along with Don Quixote. I especially love that I found an 89-cent copy of Don Quixote via Amazon Kindle and have it on my husband’s iPod Touch…it’s handy for car trips when the five-year-old hasn’t already claimed the Touch. :)

Recent reads: The Human Person According to John Paul II, by J. Brian Bransfield, which is, hands down, one of the best books I’ve read in a lonnnng time (maybe ever). It covers Theology of the Body with an approach that makes me want to buy copies to give away and makes me look at my reading pile with disdain, because now I want to pick the actual TOB up and dig into it. GREAT BOOK. I’ll be reviewing it in length, but don’t wait for that to go and get a copy!

In my ears: An iTunes mix of my favorite songs and albums. As I’ve typed this, I’ve heard Popple, Faith Hill, Jeremy Camp, Jordin Sparks, and Sonicflood. Up next: Carrie Underwood and I hope some Taylor Swift.

Around the house: The puppies are in the house (there’s a reason I’ve been quiet about them, and we’ll talk more about that later this week, because it’s another sequel to the Drama with Dogs series around here). It amazes me how two puppies, weighing less than five pounds total, can stampede through the rooms and make such a racket! They must be settled down with the girls now, because I don’t hear the pattering and growling play that was punctuating my morning just a bit ago.

A favorite thing: The crisp feel of a fall morning.

Plans made, possibly kept: This week, I’m going to finish my almost-last chapter of this first book project. (Yes, I’ve mentioned that twice, just in this post. I’m keeping myself honest.) I might finish the last chapter (which is the introduction) this week too, but I’m not going to push it. Then I’m taking a week off, printing first draft manuscripts and begging a few friends to tear it apart, and starting into the revising process as I jump into another book project. (Yes, you read that right. Am I on your prayer list yet? Does this get me there?) I have 89 days (give or take) to get this second manuscript to first draft. I keep reminding myself, in a mantra-like scream, that it’s really not my problem to get this all figured out.

Food for thought: “[Through their suffering] they will gain more graces and perpetual favors from His Majesty than they would in ten years through trials they might wish to undertake on their own. Just as others prize gold and jewels, they prize trials and desire them; they know that these latter are what will make them rich.” – St. Teresa of Avila, as quoted in Heidi Hess (Saxton)’s book, Let Nothing Trouble You

Worth a thousand words:

This daybook inspired by Peggy.

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When all else fails…

July 27, 2010 By 4 Comments

…post a daybook.

Right?

Well, though I have plenty of post ideas, I have a feeling that it will be either a no posting day or a late posting day if I don’t just use these handy prompts. So, in the interest of capturing real life, here goes.

Outside my window: Chirping birds and, ah, cool breezes! After a week of unseasonable heat, the cool we’ve had for the last few days is refreshing.

Rambling thoughts: Ah, the dog days of summer are here. And we have been busy and not busy, which seems to be a uniquely summer phenomenon. I am finding peace in the un-rhythm, though also starting to plan for the rhythm to change and the routines to kick back in.

In thanksgiving: For small puffs of fur. For daughters who insist on goodnight kisses. For reading aloud to others.

Folded hands, bowed head: For a colleague of my husband’s and his wife, who just lost their full-term baby. Please join me in praying for them.

Kitchen meanderings: That’s what I’m doing in the kitchen: meandering. In the cool mornings, I bring my laptop out here after prayers and enjoy the ambiance. How had I forgotten that this was my favorite place to write?

Nose inserted: I’ll be reading Don Quixote until my children graduate from high school, I think. I’m slowing down on it, though, and reading Pilgrim’s Progress in earnest, along with Going Public: Your Child Can Thrive in Public School.

Recent reads: I just finished A Broom of One’s Own: Words on Writing, Housecleaning and Life, by Nancy Peacock, last night, on the recommendation of Dorian. I really enjoyed it, and was glad I paused in some of my other reading pursuits to pick it up. Other recently finished books: Our Jewish Roots: A Catholic Woman’s Guide to Fulfillment Today by Connecting with Her Past, by Cheryl Dickow, and an old favorite, Alice Through the Looking-Glass, by Lewis Carroll.

Around the house: The kids are still sleeping at 8:00, which isn’t so unusual lately. They got to bed verrrry late last night (again) and I’m thankful that they will and can sleep in a bit. The sink is full of soaking dishes, the washer awaits replacement, and things are, basically, quiet.

A favorite thing: The soft weight of a sleeping child’s head on my shoulder.

Plans made, possibly kept: This year, the county and state fair are back-to-back and almost simultaneous. Due to some other commitments we’ve had, we won’t be (and can’t be) as involved as we have been in the past, but we did go to the county fair last night and plan to go to the state fair this weekend. The talk of the fair year, among our eldest young lady (age five), is when she will be old enough to show. She doesn’t know what she’ll show, mind you, but she knows she wants to show. (Or she thinks she does.)

Food for thought: “I don’t know how it works exactly, but something about opening my mouth and admitting what I’ve done wrong is a crucial step toward healing and reconciliation. It helps me see myself clearly.

“In this way, Confession isn’t something I do for God. It’s something God does for me.”

From “Why I Go to Confession,” by Elizabeth Esther

Worth a thousand words: The new “deadly duo” (because we need a critter dog, and if one’s good, two are better…right?):

This daybook inspired by Peggy’s work.

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Tuesday Sunshine

March 9, 2010 By 3 Comments

Mary this week: I have been reflecting on spending my Lent with Mary, but I’m also up to something new this week. Unfortunately, it’s Tuesday afternoon and I have nothing to share just yet…but I soon will. :)

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:

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Winter Wonderland Daybook

December 23, 2009 By Leave a Comment

Mary this week: She’s by the manger for me. I have a reflection on that coming up in this week’s Catholic Moments (which isn’t live as I type, but will be later today, I think).  Earlier this week, she was expecting and queening, but now, she’s by the manger.  It’s silent there, right before the visitors start rolling in.  She’s my model in these

Outside my window: I think I just heard the garbage truck, which reminds me that I forgot to take out the garbage.  Sigh.  There’s snow still on the ground, and the promise of more to come.  I’m glad for that snow; otherwise, it would be a gray day, but the snow makes it brighter.  I need that bright light as I try to get to the manger.

In thanksgiving: For morning prayer.  For Mystic Monks.  For family.  For friends who might as well be family.  For other people’s prayers.  For Poppa Gene’s continued recovery.  For Mary at the manger.

Nose inserted: I’m still trundling along with The Power of Respect, by Deborah Norville.  I am enjoying it immensely, but it’s not a book I’m whipping through.  I’m going to be starting a friend’s manuscript soon (it’s my third time reading it, and I have enjoyed watching the story change, and I also really love the characters), so there’s a chance my nose will stay inserted in Norville’s book through January.  That’s OK.  There’s a lot of good stuff in it.

Recent reads: I’m almost finished with Go to Joseph, by Fr. Richard Gilsdorf.  It’s an amazing book, and one that I’m going to be sure to write about (perhaps even as soon as next week).  On Saturday, during the drive to see my family for our Christmas gathering, I reveled in The Cricket on the Hearth, by Charles Dickens.  An aunt of mine suggested it a few years ago, then bought me my own copy (though it’s in the public domain — clicking that link takes you to a free version of it).  I try to read it every year at Christmas.  It’s considered one of Dickens’ Christmas classics, though it’s not overtly Christmas-y.  A very, very special story to me (and not a full book, though longer than what we’d consider a short story now, I think).

In my ears: I just finished episode 24 of Catholic Lab last night.  Wow.  I think I need to re-listen and take notes.  I enjoyed how Ian debunked the arguments about overpopulation and also presented a discussion about climate change.  Now I’m on to Aural Delights 111 from StarShipSofa (I’m a bit behind) and more on my podcast playlist.  The next few days might be light on podcasts and heavy on music, but we’ll see.  It’s possible I’ll carve out time to clean and listen.  I just don’t know.  And I really don’t care.  :)

Around the house: One on the couch, slipping in a bit of TV; one in the playroom, talking to a baby doll about something related to “Ready, Momma!”  The fire won’t go this morning, which is frustrating, but the coffee will brew, and that’s lovely.  The tree is silent in the corner, and I’m thinking it’s time to bring in the real tree (which will be planted in the garden after Christmas; one of the many lasting reminders we have of our Christmases together) and have the kids decorate it.  Don’t know if we’ll do that today or tomorrow.

A favorite thing: Small voices belting old carols and reinventing them as they go.

Food for thought: “I think that if God forgives us we must forgive ourselves. Otherwise it is almost like setting up ourselves as a higher tribunal than Him.” – C. S. Lewis (from a recent Women of Grace Grace Line)

Worth a thousand words: Christmas memories from this weekend


This daybook is inspired by the daybooks here.

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