reflection

Did Mary yell at Jesus?

January 30, 2012 By Sarah Reinhard 3 Comments

Did Mary yell at Jesus? I ask myself that question a lot sometimes.

Like the day I started the draft of this post.

I was trying to remain patient. I was doing my best to keep my voice calm.

I failed. I failed big.

If ever you think I am a model of motherhood or a mentor to emulate, let me set things straight right now. If you look at me and think, “I want to be like Sarah Reinhard when I grow up,” let me correct you loudly. If you smile when you read this and think I’m exaggerating, don’t tell me, because I will want to smack you.

I fail all. the. time. It’s part and parcel of who I am, how I’m made, what I struggle with.

Yelling: an ongoing struggle, a bad habit I fall back upon when I feel pushed, stressed, or otherwise cornered, and something I feel called, of late, to address.

It isn’t going to be easy to address.

Ask my fifth-grade PSR class: I’m not soft-spoken. Ask my husband: I’m not quiet. Ask my friends: I’m not calm.

So yelling fits right in, in many ways, with who I am.

Or so I used to think.

But that question keeps coming up in my mind when I think about yelling. Did Mary yell at Jesus?

Well, maybe she did: ”Jeeeeeeesuuuuus! Time for dinner! Come in, wash up!”

I can’t help but think, with some amusement, that she was one of the only people who could yell his name and not be guilty of breaking the Second Commandment.

On the other hand, I can’t help but continue to feel called to silence in different ways. And in that, my tendency to yell seems to clash.

My husband doesn’t yell a lot. For one thing, he doesn’t need to. When it comes to the kids, he can “growl” with great effectiveness. (Sudden insight: I need to learn to growl!) For another thing, he has presence. I can’t explain it more than that, but I get the feeling that it’s ingrained, not something I can learn.

Did Mary yell at Jesus, the way I slip and yell when I’m frustrated or overwhelmed? Did she give in to the emotion and let it out through her voice?

Is my yelling indicative of a lack of self-control? Does it point to a need for greater trust in others, in myself, in God?

As I consider my own question and Mary’s response in other areas, I think I stand a lot to learn, as usual, from Jesus’ mom. Maybe she did yell, but it wouldn’t have been in a way that would have been sinful. She certainly felt frustration, but did she give in and act on it?

Once again, I find myself turning to Mary and leaning back into her arms. I’m going to do my best, this week, to ask for her help when I’m on the brink of yelling in ways that aren’t positive.

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Filed Under: Inspired by the Virgin Mary, Mary Moment Mondays, Motherhood, reflection Tagged With: Mary Moment Monday, Motherhood, parenting, reflection, Virgin Mary

It’s Not About Me

January 10, 2012 By Sarah Reinhard 6 Comments

Today, I celebrate my 35th birthday.

There are at least two things I can guarantee about today.

First, I will get at least one phone call with singing from distant family. After their serenade, we’ll all laugh, they’ll ask how I am, and we’ll hang up.

Second, my daughters are going to enjoy this afternoon. They have been plotting and planning. They are up to something, and my seven-year-old especially doesn’t miss a chance to drop a hint or wink at her father across the room.

I am 35, an age I have never really thought about. Turning 30 was enough of an adventure for the rest of my life, thanks.

I’m not a big celebrator of my own birthday. I’m just not. I don’t know why.

But recently, a friend who has a talent for making me think pointed out something to me, “It’s really not about you.”

And you know, she has a point.

It’s not about me. It might be MY birthday, but isn’t this day more about other people’s celebration of my life? My parents, my husband, my children, and my friends all get a chance to thank God for the ~~scourge~~ ~~pain~~ presence I am in their lives.

Motherhood has stretched me and challenged me more than anything else in life. If I had to put my finger on one thing it’s taught me, it’s that phrase my friend uses to bring me to my senses. It’s not about me.

So today, as I bumble through a Tuesday that will be less typical than last week, I’m going to offer a prayer of thanksgiving for each of the little hurdles and reality checks that are sure to come my way. I’m going to do my best to be grateful for the gift that another year is to me.

And I’m going to eat some chocolate. (Hey, it IS my birthday!)

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Filed Under: Motherhood, reflection Tagged With: life in the present moment, Motherhood, reflection

Buying Locally Catholic [updated]

November 16, 2011 By Sarah Reinhard 5 Comments

Here in central Ohio, we’re blessed to have a Catholic bookstore that I lovingly refer to as “Catholic wonderland,” Generations Religious Gifts. It’s family-owned and operated, and it has almost everything Catholic, from books to sacramentals, decorations to cards, statues to jewelry. What they don’t have in the store, they willingly order.

I’ve come to know the owners, Larry and Phyllis, over the years, thanks to my employment at our parish and my own interest in stocking up my home with things Catholic.

There’s something about being able to go and touch and browse. Even I, the poster child for shopping on Amazon and avoiding retail outlets (I really do hate to shop), see the value and necessity of the service Catholic bookstores provide.

It’s a risky business. Earlier this year, the other Catholic bookstore in our metro area went out of business. It’s frustrating, if you’re a small business owner, to see how the Big Guys seem to come in and slash prices. I think it’s even more disappointing, though, when you start to see parishes ordering supplies from Amazon because of a perceived convenience or lower price.

I’ve started telling people (loudly, at times) that there are many books on Amazon — Welcome Baby Jesus, for example — that cost NO LESS than they would from your Catholic bookstore. There are behind-the-scenes reasons for this, and I don’t even know them all.

I have been, for years, trying to keep as much of my business as local as I can. It’s not easy: the local grocery doesn’t have exactly what I want sometimes, or they’re out, or the other store has a wait that just infuriates me.

Back when I worked at the local John Deere dealership, one of my bosses always said, “People buy from people.” As I’ve gotten older, and especially now that I have kids and a stricter budget, I see just how right he was.

Without customers, our local Catholic bookstores can’t stay in business. They just can’t. And that hurts all of us. The online retailers provide a service, I agree.

What if that Catholic bookstore wasn’t there? I challenge you, as you plan your Christmas shopping, to purchase at least one thing from your local Catholic retailer. Maybe you’ll spend a bit more, and maybe you’ll go out of your way. We could argue economics, but let’s not (neither of us will win).

Your Catholic retailer provides a service as real as the local pharmacy does. Here in central Ohio, Larry and Phyllis do what they do because they love their faith. They’re not out to fleece anyone, and I have seen them go out of their way to provide service that’s above and beyond. At the Catholic Marketing Network this summer, I met quite a few other Catholic store owners who do it, not for the fortune they’re not making, but because of a passion for their faith and their fellow Catholics.

Let’s show them some support. Let’s speak with our dollars this shopping season and tell them “thank you” for the long hours they work, the many products they carry, and the witness they provide in the marketplace.

UPDATE: As it turns out, we DO have a second Catholic retailer here in central Ohio, Catholica. I haven’t had a chance to visit them (they’re in Westerville), but I plan to at some point. If you’ve been there, I’d love to hear what you think!

Filed Under: Faith, in the world Tagged With: Catholic, economics, reflection, seasons

So Little Room

April 27, 2011 By Sarah Reinhard 2 Comments

A weed needs so little room to take root. It doesn’t even need proper soil, near as I can tell. Just a little sliver of space, maybe some moisture, a bit of sun, and wah-lah: Weed Central. You see them on the side of roads where there’s but a crack. We found one yesterday growing underneath an upstairs window.

It reminds me of how little room sin needs to get firmly rooted in me. It only needs a small crack in my resolve, a little light from the not-quite-shut curtain, a tiny seed of doubt.

Sometimes the weeds don’t look so bad. In fact, sometimes they add color and texture to an otherwise desolate area. Sometimes they flower and make you forget that they are a weed. Sometimes maybe they are even a blessing.

Isn’t that just like sin? Sometimes it doesn’t seem so bad. Sometimes it is, in fact, so much more convenient than the truth of God’s plan. Sometimes I’m tempted to think of sin as a blessing, as a better alternative, as a shortcut to the desired end.

When I put on my gloves and buckle down to get dirty with the weeds in the garden of my soul, I see that the roots go deep, intertwining with the plants I want to keep, infiltrating every part of my life.

Only God has the Round-Up that will take care of these guys. Only by his grace will I be able to keep them from taking over again. I find humiliation in this knowledge…and relief.

I don’t have to do it by myself.

I am also reminded about the wisdom of prevention. My brother-in-law showed me the beauty of mulch for keeping weeds out – but if the mulch is applied late in the summer, it doesn’t do as effective a job. When I attack my sins early on, they are easier to change, especially if they involve habits. If I wait until later, it becomes a larger challenge.

There’s probably no way in this life to avoid having the small room available for sin to take root. What I can do, though, is feed the soil of my soul with the sacraments that will help me keep sin at bay. I can surround myself with Jesus, who conquered all sin, and keep company with the saints and people of good influence. I can try to avoid the near occasions that surround me, and pray my way through the ones I stumble into.

A weed needs so little room, and so does sin. I need a lot of help to keep the way clear. Those weeds don’t waste any time in getting started…and neither should I!

Modified from a post originally published September 5, 2006

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Filed Under: Faith Tagged With: Faith, Farm Life, gardening, life in the present moment, reflection, spring

Burnout

February 25, 2011 By Sarah Reinhard Leave a Comment

Originally posted February 22, 2008, and every bit as relevant today as it was then.

Tis the season for being burned out. I seem to be coming out of it, but when I sat down and thought about it, I realized it happens to me every year around this time. I feel like I’m unable to do it all, like the universe is conspiring against me. The “to do” list seems to be impossible, an endless supply of things I won’t get done, and then the reality of the deadlines and the people I’ll let down washes over me and I feel futility set in.

I first encountered burnout in college, near the end of my time there. I look back and I just don’t know how I did it all—the clubs, the meetings, the organizations, the fund-raisers and the extra classes, the projects for charity, the parties, the hanging out, and on and on and on. That final spring quarter, I was a waste, not worth much at all. Nothing seemed to be worth it, and no matter how much I did, there was always more to do.

After I graduated, I left all that behind me and started all over. I thought that with a job, I had all this free evening time, so I set about filling it. I taught Sunday school classes, attended every evening Bible study, was a 4-H advisor, did county-level 4-H activities, helped with youth ministry at church, and found time to sleep somewhere in there.

Then I got married, and as I was getting ready to jet on over to one of the many evening commitments I had, Bob looked at me and commented, “You know, we’ll never have a family if we never spend any time together.” That really set me thinking about my focus in life, and about what I’m supposed to be doing right now.

I still struggle with wanting to do too much, and then finding myself so worn out from all that I try to do that I don’t want to do anything anymore. I’m trying to find the balance of extracurricular and home life.

Sometime, and especially as we have more children and as Bob begins to take more classes, my extracurriculars will have to nearly disappear. At one point, that really bothered me. I thought that those outside things defined who I am.

But I’ve come to understand that the most important work I do is the work God calls me to do…and to know what that is, I have to be listening.

Filed Under: reflection Tagged With: home life, life in the present moment, listening, reflection

From the Back of the Church

February 23, 2011 By Sarah Reinhard 9 Comments

Today we welcome Jenny from A Minute Captured for a reflection on Mass from the back of the church. Thank you, Jenny, for such a heart-felt post and for sharing your beautiful photography.

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He walks the pew, back and forth, back and forth. I’m afraid we may look like some weird contortion of the wave; each time he spans from the left to the right and back we lean back to let him pass by.

After a couple of minutes of frequent passes, I decide to take him to the back of the church. I begin the walk back–you know the one, where you pass everyone because you sit up front so your kids can see. I don’t really want to make eye contact because we’re all supposed to be paying attention.

I hope my shirt isn’t jacked up revealing my road map of a belly: I only judged this outfit based on how it looked while standing straight and still in front of the mirror, not wrangling a 2yo across my body as I make the mile long trek to the back of the church.

I can feel the tears begin to well up, ready to overflow. I look out over a sea of the back of people’s heads. I have seen the back of some of these heads for 10 to 15 years.

I see part of the family whose little guy was in the hospital this weekend with a concussion and fractured skull after a bike accident.

The newly pregnant and very tired momma of three toddlers smiles as she passes me and I smile back. “I know…,” I try to convey.

The blended family struggling to make smooth transitions, the women who have miscarried, the single looking, and the widowed waiting for sweet reunions; each and every soul carries its own story and I know but a piece.

I pray for many of them specifically.

“Lord, please let that family’s hurting granddaughter know Your purpose for sparing her life twice now after attempts to take it.”

“Lord, please relieve this family’s financial burden and watch over that family’s son as he prepares to leave for war.”

I am no longer one standing in the back of the church. Each Sunday we reunite. The physical bodies become the collective one that make the body of the Church.

We are all here to partake of the one Bread; this is why we come.

We dress and drive and wrangle kids and smooth creases and hair so we can be nourished.

The body of Christ Himself fills the hopeful and hurting. The life-giving blood that pumped through His very veins now becomes a part of us and we leave strengthened, even if we don’t feel like it.

The physical and spiritual body of Christ meet in this place amidst crying babies and pleading parents and the walking wounded of the world because the world hates us. I stand at the foot of the cross and notice those with me. I see the backs of their heads while He sees straight into their hearts.

Filed Under: guest post Tagged With: Catholic, Faith, guest post, Jenny H, Mass, Motherhood, prayer, reflection

To My Child

January 20, 2011 By Sarah Reinhard 2 Comments

You place your small hand in mine, without a second thought as to where I’ll lead you or what I’ll do. You have such complete confidence in me, far more than I have in myself.

I had no idea our relationship would be like this. In fact, the idea of you terrified me at the beginning. I was excited, yes, but not nearly as much as I was unsure.

It wasn’t that long ago that I would have never considered motherhood. I sure would have been surprised to see myself at home with you, not pursuing a career of some sort. I do work, yes, but I count the dishes and laundry among the writing and designing.

The miracle of you shocks me with what it reveals about me. I had no idea that taking your small hand would be so much fun. I didn’t expect that it would teach me more about life than two college degrees and countless books. I continue to marvel at how I can juggle things that would have seemed ridiculous, absurd, and unlikely even a few years ago.

You are a marvel: though you have a set opinion, you also have complete trust. While you create endless chaos, you also surround me with unconditional love. Though you have answers for the most preposterous questions, you never fail to ask the most insightful riddles about life.

I’ve learned more in six years as a mother than I did in six years getting two different college degrees. The diploma I’m earning now will be displayed at family dinners years from now, when you and your siblings are filling the house with more laughter and memories.

Thank you for your small hand in mine. You’re leading me down the path to better living, one adventure at a time.

Love,

Mom

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