How Shall I Compare Thee? Um, Let’s Not

I have a confession to make. My name is Becky Bowers-Greene, and I’m a compare-aholic. I suffer from a sometimes crippling condition called comparisonitis. I’m not proud. But alas, in just being ashamed I am subject to another relapse. I’m considering starting a support group for people like me, but I’m concerned it might be counterproductive — what with all the comparisons that would be made at the meetings.

For those of you who are unfamiliar, comparisonitis is a chronic problem whereby an individual cannot stop measuring his- or herself according to the doings and goings and beings of others.

I am a classic case. I’m a 30-something mother of three young children. I work part time as a freelance writer and occasionally try to do things like apply deodorant. I take part in a speaking ministry that keeps me and my husband busy on the weekends, and, oh did I mention, I try every now and again to have interactions with people who don’t wear Lightning McQueen underpants.

So my life is pretty crazy — big surprise. But as if it wasn’t pressure enough to get a 6-year-old to take his hands out of his pants or stop a 4-year-old from asking non-pregnant women if they have babies in their tummies or catch the 15-month-old before she stirs the toilet water with her toothbrush… for the fifth time today, I stress about how well or not well I’m doing these things in reference to others.

My final conclusion is usually, “Fail!”

Part of the problem may be that I once worked out 6-7 hours a day pursuing an Olympic dream. I measured myself based on the immediate response from a coach, who was usually correcting something I just did or scolding me for not having corrected a prior correction; or a judge, who was flashing a score that defined where I stood in reference to, what else, other gymnasts.

It’s a rough ailment to shake when you suddenly find yourself chewed up by a sport and spit out into a world where achieving perfection isn’t the only way to be successful. I’ve spent the better part of the last 20 years trying to recover from an identity that went bye-bye after my last meet my senior year of college only to morph into another identity called wife and mother. And with these roles, failure would mean far more than missing out on a gold medal. So I continue to fret over my performance, often looking around at other examples as the standard by which I measure how I’m doing.

I have a friend whose face, hair, and house always seem to be immaculate, despite having four young kids. Now, I can sometimes pull off this facade if I have several days to plan… and I borrow someone else’s home. If I take a shower, find my makeup bag, and hunt down the hair gel (which has most likely been dropped in the cat dish by my toddler after she ransacked the bathroom while I attempted to do my business), I might be able to pull myself together enough to look presentable with enough warning.

But don’t expect to just drop by my home unannounced and find Suzie Homemaker wearing her pearls and pulling a pie out of the oven. There will likely be boogers somewhere on my shirt, or at least the wall, and there’s a good chance that if you’re not careful, you’ll step on something mushy. I know, because I’ve still got smashed strawberry stuck between my toes from this morning. Our house is like a field of land mines: Watch out, don’t slip — receipt from Walmart, 10 o’clock! Sharp Lego, 5 o’clock! Library book about the digestive system off to your left. Pair of underpants off in the corner – they could be clean; they could be dirty, we just don’t know – the toddler is constantly pulling clothes out of the hamper and the clean laundry basket, so it’s anybody’s guess. Just heed caution. Take cover, that’s possibly cat vomit!

My friend knows I covet her clean castle, and if she wasn’t so darn nice and fun, I’d probably have to hate her.

Then there are people who prepare elaborate dishes for their families and manage to clip coupons and dart around town finding the best deals at grocery stores. I hear things like, “I checked out with $467 worth of groceries and paid 73 cents after all my ad matches and double discounts.”

I’m lucky I remember to buy milk when I go up to the store to buy… milk.

And of course I could come up with countless other examples of people to whom I compare unfavorably. “Oh, you jetted off to Sydney, Australia for New Year’s Eve? That’s really cool. I drove out to East Mesa the day before Christmas to buy a present off Craigslist.”

Just so you know, East Mesa is really, really far, especially when the baby is screaming in the backseat.

I find myself thinking things like, “Wow, she’s training for a marathon. I should do that.” Or, “wow, he ran a half-marathon. I should try that.” Or, “wow, the glue on her running shoes isn’t separating at the sole.”

I keep meaning to invest in a new pair.

I sigh over how little I seem to accomplish in a given day. I wonder what brilliant lessons all the other homeschooling moms completed while I cleaned up the Quaker Oats my daughter dumped all over the floor while trying to keep my son seated long enough to read a phonics book. I wonder what the mother of seven perfectly behaved kids would think of me if she could see my two boys standing in the bathroom trying to “toot” on one another while I scream for them to come back to the table. I wonder if parents who don’t home-school their kids look at me and my kids and say, “And that’s why we don’t home-school.”

I worry that I’m too strict and then I’m worried I’m not strict enough. I worry that our days are too packed and then I worry that I don’t have my kids involved in enough activities. I stress about whether I’m ignoring them during too much of the day because I’m busy moving piles of paperwork from one spot on the counter to another; then I stress that I’m doing them a disservice by raising them in a home where pine needles from our Christmas tree are still blanketing our floor (I swear I will get to those this weekend).

I learn about discipline styles of one family whose kids don’t do headstands in church, and I think perhaps we’re too easy; then I learn about what another family does, and I fear we’re too harsh. And all the while, my kids are constantly showing up in public with something on their faces. Is that peanut butter from yesterday? There’s a pile of laundry I keep hoping will fold itself. Do other husbands go to work with wrinkled shirts like mine does? And that box I keep meaning to take to Goodwill is still in the back of the car. Maybe we’ll use that George Foreman indoor grill again someday.

Thankfully, nobody is flashing a score (that I can see). And in the end, all I can do is my best. Some days I fall short; most days I get by. But the bottom line is there’s always someone who’s doing better at something, and there’s always somebody who could be perceived as doing worse.

Perceived is the key word here.

I’ve envied the exciting travels or large home of what I thought was the picture-perfect family only to find out the couple has marriage problems. I’ve been jealous of single friends who appeared to be living the life of luxury only to find out they were suffering from loneliness. I’ve looked at women who seem to have it all together only to learn they nod in agreement when I share details about my own life. That’s funny, I never would have thought that you know what it’s like to whack your head on an open cabinet door while darting across the room to swipe the cat food out of the toddler’s mouth just as another child is screaming for you to come wipe his bottom.

I was reminded by a priest friend that while I’m busy comparing myself to others, there’s somebody secretly doing the same to me. When my husband and I speak to couples who may be enduring their own personal struggles, we probably come off looking like we have our act together. They don’t know that we struggle financially, that I lose my temper with my kids, that my husband can’t for the life of him remember to go change that darn litter box, that my kids hit each other or get sassy when they’re punished or forget to flush the toilet… constantly.

It’s all perspective and perception. Parts are on display, and other parts are veiled? And that’s why we all deserve the benefit of the doubt. We all need to feel like we’re not alone — that there is solidarity in our humanity. One man’s successes aren’t a reason for us to feel like failures, just as one man’s failures aren’t a reason for us to boast success.

I realize that it’s impossible to ever draw accurate comparisons because the picture-perfect images I’m comparing myself to don’t even exist — much like the airbrushed models on magazine covers. Nobody lives the picture-perfect life. I know this because my same friend whose house I envy often asks me just days after I’ve had a baby if I have my washboard abs back already. What? She’s obviously joking, right? I don’t currently have a six-pack stomach, nor did I even have one in my athletic days — more like a two-liter at best.

But her exaggerated compliment reminds me that our interpretation of someone else’s existence is often skewed. And that means perhaps her house isn’t always as spic-and-span as I think; that she sometimes gets a zit too. That she has struggles like I do. Our understanding of the Joneses is a myth — a contorted reflection of the real thing. Objects in rearview mirror are not as they appear.

These mirages are a distraction from the truth of our own purpose and effort. They draw us away from the real focus of our journey: the truth that in doing anything — whether it’s curing cancer or letting the dishes pile up while you nurse your baby to sleep — is universally, eternally important if done in thanksgiving and for the glory of our Creator. If we spend our lives studying the Joneses, we miss out on the reality of our own lives — the gift we are intended to be for others, the purpose we are intended to fulfill.

And so I strive amidst my daily existence to overcome the comparisonitis that plagues me — to be inspired by others who may be doing something “better” and to empathize with those who may not; to appreciate the path I am walking — moment to moment — and be grateful, not for what it appears to be to others but what it truly is to God: a unique, unrepeatable piece of a beautiful tapestry that is meaningful, humorous, poignant… and incomparable to anything else in the universe.

Copyright 2013 Becky Bowers-Greene

Trinity Sunday

Many are ready to give a polite nod of some sort to Jesus of Nazareth. Most honor him as a great moral teacher. Many even confess him as Savior. But the Incarnation of the Eternal God? Second person of the Holy Trinity? God can’t be one and three at the same time. Such a notion is at worst illogical, at best meaningless. “This was all invented by the Roman Emperor Constantine in 313 AD,” scoff a motley crew ranging from the Jehovah’s Witnesses to the DaVinci Code.

Of course this charge has no historical leg to stand on. St. Ignatius of Antioch wrote seven brief letters around 110AD in which he called Jesus “God” 16 times.

True, the word “Trinity” is not in the bible. But everywhere the New Testament refers to three distinct persons who seem to be equally divine, yet one (see 2 Cor 13:13). So over 100 years before Constantine, a Christian writer named Tertullian coined the term “Trinity” as a handy way to refer to this reality of three distinct, equal persons in one God. It stuck.

But if the doctrine of the Trinity is authentically biblical, is it relevant? Does it really matter?

If Christianity were simply a religion of keeping the law, the inner life of the lawgiver would not matter. But if Christianity is about personal relationship with God, then who God really is matters totally. Common sense tells us that some supreme being made the universe and that we owe Him homage. But that this creator is a trinity of persons who invites us to intimate friendship with Himself, we never could have guessed. We only know it because God has revealed it.

God is love, says 1 John 4:8 (see too John 3:16). If God were solitary, how could he have been love before he created the world? Who would there have been to love? Jesus reveals a God who is eternally a community of three persons pouring themselves out in love for one another. The Father does not create the Son and then, with the Son, create the Spirit. No, the Father eternally generates the Son. And with and through the Son, this Father eternally “breathes” the Spirit as a sort of personalized sigh of love. “As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be.” That’s what the conclusion of the Glory Be really means, that the self-giving of the three divine persons did not begin at a moment in time, but was, is, and is to come.

If we are truly to “know” our God, we must know this.

But if we are ever to understand ourselves, we must also know this. For we were made in the image and likeness of God, and God is a community of self-donating love. That means that we can never be happy isolated from others, protecting ourselves from others, holding ourselves back selfishly from others. Unless we give ourselves in love, we can never be fully human. And unless we participate in the life of God’s people, we can never be truly Christian either. Because Christianity is about building up the community of divine love which is called the Church. If God is Trinity, then there really is no place for free-lance, lone-ranger Christians.

The family, the domestic Church, is a reflection of trinitarian love – the love of husband and wife, distinct and very different persons, generates the child who is from them but is nonetheless distinct from them, indeed absolutely unique.

And that is the final point. One of the greatest treasures of Western culture is the concept of the uniqueness and dignity of the individual person. You really don’t find this idea in the ancient societies of Greece and Rome or in other great world religions, such as Islam.

The concept of the irreplaceable uniqueness of each person came into Western culture straight from the doctrine of the Trinity, three who possess the exact same divine nature but who are yet irreplaceably unique in their personhood.

The irony? As it progressively abandons the triune God, the Western world is undermining the very foundation of personal dignity, individuality, and freedom.

So yes, the Trinity does matter.

This is offered as a reflection on the scripture readings for Trinity Sunday (Exodus 34:4b-9; 2 Corinthians 13:11-13; John 3:16-18).  It is reproduced here by permission of the author.

Copyright 2013 Marcellino D’Ambrosio, Ph.D.

Mother’s Day Pearls

Mother’s Day has come and gone, yes I am aware, yet this past Mother’s Day my eyes were opened to something so uniquely feminine, it deserved a moment of pause.  At times Mother’s Day is so focused on us Moms, which is well deserved and rightly so.  Our social culture will sell us on the perfect gift for her, flowers, mani/pedis or string of pearls.   Yet, I was overcome with a profound understanding this year about our role as mothers, as caretakers having that ‘feminine genus’ that I’ve heard of so often, yet I rarely understood.

We attended Mass that morning, and as God designed, my daughter and 1^st Communicant was invited to not only wear her 1^st Communion finery yet again, but to be the selected little girl to climb the high ladder in our parish and crown Our Lady for the May Crowning.  As I took the extra time to dress her again, curl her hair and use the many bobby pins to secure her crown and veil, I remembered something I shared with a friend, when she asked me about doing my girls’ hair every day.  I told her, “I see it as my privilege to help them do their hair, to be fun and creative for a few minutes every day.  I hope we look back at all these mornings in the bathroom with great fondness, as I felt it was my honor to assist them every chance I had.”   And so as we rushed through the Sunday morning routine, and put more pins in my little Entertainer’s hair, I smiled to myself, thinking, ‘She will never forget  these times I played with their hair, talked about big and small things, or got ready for big, special days together.   Thank you God.’

My Knight served Mass this day, as again God designed it, and during Mass he rarely made eye contact with us or me to be exact.  This day, Mother’s Day, as the sign of peace came, I searched him out.  I saw him, but he didn’t know if I was looking or not.  He simply looked my way, and made the two finger peace sign in my direction.  It was so quick and emotionless, that he thought I had missed it.  Then I smiled at him.  And his face lit up, he smiled so big in return, and I flashed the same peace sign to him, and I couldn’t stop giggling in my seat.  As I turned to my husband to see if he had seen the scene, his face told me his attention was elsewhere.  It was a moment just for me.   And tears brimmed in my eyes immediately.  This eleven year old still needs his Mom – Thank you God.

As Father called my little Entertainer forward, he motioned for me to assist, he handed me the pillow which held Our Lady’s flower crown, which I was meant to deliver with my daughter.  Such a detail…to give the flowers to my girl to give to the Mother of us both.  It was perfect.  She climbed the high ladder in her bright white dress, veil and crown.  And as my role dictated, I stood beneath her, to catch her should she trip on her flowing gown.  I heard the parish behind us singing a Marian hymn and for a moment, it was all crystal clear, this is a taste of heaven.  Thank you, God.

Upon leaving the church, I ran into someone who clearly knew me, but I had never met her.  She was an older woman, who clearly wanted to tell me something, and she stopped me short of leaving that morning.  She said, “What a beautiful family you have!   I see your son serving up there, and he’s so young, and small, yet doing his best, serving our Lord.  It’s wonderful to see.”

I mumbled a thank you or something to that affect, I suppose.  I seem to get speechless when I hear such things,…as I want to tell her all the things I know for certain I am doing wrong with these children, these five little souls that I feel so unworthy to mother.  I want to shake her, and say, “Well, if only you spent a day in my home, you might recant!”  I want to tell her I spend too much time on their hair in the bathroom they will probably end up so vain! …and I suppose a hundred other things that I feel like I am failing at.  And then it hit me, to just hug her….and tell her clearly, “Thank you.  Thank you, they are great kids, and we are richly blessed.”  For the words to speak, Thank you God.

When I finally got into our van, I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore.  Mother’s Day is giving to our Moms, yes, I get that.  Yet what makes us special is that feminine detail in us to tend to others….Even those we have no relation to.  We, as women, give to others, and other women give to us.  We tend to the details.  We say what needs to be said.  We do what needs to be done.  We can be warriors and the nurturers when the time calls for each.  We see the slightest change in the emotion of one of our young.  We sense other’s feelings or needs in so many moments of ordinary days.  It’s incredible.  As much as I give to others, they give back to me, tending to me, knowing I give to every detail; every detail has been tended to, for me, as well.   It’s in our heart, soul and overall make up of our very being.  Thank you, God.

Thank you for the many ways you have created us, sensitive and attentive, compassionate yet determined, seeing the needs, filling the needs and sacrificing and serving.

I will never be perfect at this job, but I can see a snippet of God’s design in how he created woman and mother.

Mother.

It is who I am.  It is who I was made to be.  On this Mother’s Day 2013, my vision for my own vocation, my own motherhood, gained a new clarity and vision.  I tend to the details, I was made for it.  And knowing that I may not be perfect, but going in the right direction was the greatest Mother’s Day present a gal could ask for.  It’s the string of pearls for my heart and soul.  Thank you, God.

Copyright 2013 Sahmatwork

Pope Francis, March 2013

I received a forwarded email today of a picture of Pope Francis and Pope Emeritus Benedict 16. The picture was split and the Francis side depicted a seated pope in his simple white cassock and white skull cap (zucchetto) in an elegant yet simple cushioned chair of polished wood. The other half of the photo was Benedict seated in a “golden throne” on a red carpet, donning his red Prada shoes, red stole and cape (mozetta).

The pictures are intended to be drastic opposites and point out a litany of things that are missing from the Francis side of the photo ending with the red carpet.  The final caption reads,

“He is not interested in fame and applause …Every day we like Pope Francis more!!!”  They may as well have added “more than Benedict”.

I love Pope Francis. I love his Latin style. Being Cuban myself, I connect to his natural, affectionate approach void of formality.  I appreciate that he does things his own way and that he can’t be bothered with some of the whistles and bells to which his office is entitled. Yes, he took a pass on the red Prada shoes.  He passed on the fancy chair, and he opted out of the living in the Papal residency.  Pope Francis is very “Franciscan” and that is his charm.

But does skipping the pomps of his office mean that those before him were wrong or vain or indulgent? Maybe it just me, but that’s the unspoken message I have been receiving loud and clear from media outlets, chain emails and even fellow Catholics.  If he is “a pope for the poor” does that mean Benedict was a pope for the rich? John Paul II sat over a red carpet, too, and nobody is insinuating that he is interested in fame and applause.

This attitude is symptomatic of a bigger heart issue. I have often heard people deeply scorn the Church’s opulent cathedrals and vestments as wasteful when the money could be better spent on the poor. In fact, Judas said this too.  It’s as if they believe that while poverty exists we should be ashamed at such displays.

Firstly, let me point out that the Church is the largest non-government provider of healthcare services in the entire world.  She has opened homeless shelters and hospitals, fed more hungry and cared for more sick than any other organization worldwide. Nobody can claim to care for the poor better than the Catholic Church has or does.

Secondly, people forget that God loves extravagance in worship of Him. Recall Mary of Bethany who poured oil at Christ’s feet. That oil was worth a year’s wages.  Jesus was not offended as he did not see it as a waste, rather, He was offended that Judas considered Jesus not worth the waste!

God has a history of expensive taste and rightfully so!  He instructed the building of the Ark of the Covenant in acacia wood and gold and spared no expense. Aaron and his priests were instructed to wear robes covered with precious gems to reflect God’s glory. The garment called an ephod was made of linen with gold, blue, purple and scarlet and held together at the shoulder by two onyx stones set in gold. The colors each had their own significance like gold for divinity and purple for royalty, etc. On the breastplate were fastened twelve precious stones in four rows of three. Each stone represented a tribe Israel: The sash was also of blue, purple, and scarlet linen intertwined with golden threads. When a priest was dressed in his garments and sash it meant he was prepared and ready to serve.

In the same tradition, Papal attire is worn during religious services and is rich with meaning.   The red shoes symbolize the blood of the martyrs.  The white (purity) cassock has thirty three buttons symbolizing the age of Jesus at his death. The staff is obviously a sign of shepherding and the mitre a symbol of authority to teach. The red shoulder length cape known as a mozzetta, is symbolic of his political authority as the leader of the Vatican City State. Finally, the chair itself, which is typically painted gold and not truly made of gold, symbolizes the office or “chair of peter”. The chair was a symbol of the teacher in ancient times. It’s just like the post of university professor is referred to as “the chair”.  If there is such a thing as a throne, it belongs to the King of kings, Jesus Christ. The pope sits on it because he is Christ’s chief steward, set over the Church until His return. (Luke 12:42)

The splendor of the Church’s aesthetic tradition is intended to arouse in its viewers a love of beauty and to draw the mind towards heaven. We are sensual creatures in that we use all our senses to worship. Our eyes see beauty of the stained glass and beautiful vestments and artwork, our noses smell the incense, we hear the music, etc. God knows this and invites us into the pleasure of it for His sake.

Let’s remember that the pope doesn’t own the robe, the chair or any Church artifacts, for that matter.  They are owned by the entire Catholic Church (therefore by you and me too), and have been dedicated to God.  He doesn’t get to take them home at the end of the day!

So, let each man demonstrate his own unique style and gifts to the church as vicars.  And those who scoff and tongue-cluck would do well to remember not to offend God by suggesting He is not worth the waste.  Jesus reminded us that the poor will always be among us. As long as each man do his duty to the church and guides her in her primary work to feed the hungry and care for the orphan and widow and all the spiritual and corporal works of mercy, let us not begrudge the bride her proper vestments as she awaits her groom.

Copyright 2013 Victoria Garaitonandia Gisondi

Genre

Action

Platform

Xbox 360, PC

Story

Rogue NSA operative Sam Fisher has discovered that the accident that killed his daughter wasn’t an accident.  He will shoot, stab, and torture anyone in his way in order to find out the truth.

Gameplay/Mechanics

Unlike the previous entries in the series, this is a stealth game with no options for stealth.  The player is forced to kill everyone in the way in order to get to the objectives. Instead of penalizing the player for leaving bodies all over the place, this game encourages it.

Music/Graphics

The graphics are okay, the music is forgettable.  Seriously, I can’t tell you a single note.

Morals/Appropriateness

Gratuitous violence, gratuitous language, gratuitous game.  Seriously, this game’s view of “interrogation” makes those on 24 look like sitting a suspect down for tea.  There is no real reason for the interrogations to be interactive bouts of brutality, as the player moves Sam and his victim from one place or another, and then tap a button to initiate a cut scene.   The only difference is that the game zooms in so the player can better see the impact of someone’s head against a hard surface.

This game is rated M for Mature for a reason. It should have been rated B, as in B-movie.

Community/Multiplayer

None

Addiction Danger

None. I finished the game and threw it out. There is only one way to get from point A to point B.  There is no variation, no difference, and no consequence for screwing up.

Problems/Ending Comments

The game, even on its own merits, is bad. Sam Fisher, once a tough operative who can fight off people in the way, has been reduced to a thug. It’s not even enjoyable.

ESRB Rating: M for Mature
ESRB Link

Read more of our Tech Talk columns.

Copyright 2013 John Konecsni

Sisters win a total of $55,000 for their charity 

Team Sisters of Mary in The American Bible Challenge

ATLANTA, May 24, 2013 – The Dominican Sisters of Mary, Mother of the Eucharist lost to the Wagner Warriors in last night’s finale of Season 2 of the Game Show Network’s hit show “The American Bible Challenge.” But they did, however, win “The American Bible Challenge Fan Favorite” contest, pulling in an additional $10,000 for their charity.

A trio of sisters from the Order — Sister Peter Joseph (novice), Sister Maria Suso (professed sister) and Sister Evangeline (novice) —  won a total of $55,000 for their charity, which provides for the treatment and care of the aging sisters in the Order, and to ensure that they are provided for as they advance into retirement. The Ann Arbor, Michigan-based Dominican Sisters showed America that they not only knew their Bible, but that they are a community filled with joy and can have fun.

The American Bible Challenge, produced by Relativity Television, garnered the network’s highest delivery in its 18-year history with 1.7 million total viewers for its August 2012 series premiere. Factoring in the encore airing, the premiere episode, which featured the Dominican Sisters, was watched by over 2 million viewers.

Learn more about the Dominican Sisters of Mary, Mother of the Eucharist

Watch this video on YouTube.

Picnic Casserole

Picnic Casserole

Makes 6 servings

4 red potatoes medium, peeled, diced and cooked
1/4 cup butter or margarine, softened
2 tablespoons onions minced
6 hot dogs sliced
1 10 1/2-ounce can cream of mushroom soup condensed
1 cup peas thawed
1/2 cup milk
1 tablespoon mustard prepared
1/3 cup sharp cheddar cheese shredded

1. Preheat oven to 350°.
2. In an ungreased 2-quart casserole, toss potatoes, butter or margarine, and onion.
3. In a medium bowl, mix frankfurters, soup, peas, milk and mustard. Pour over potato mixture.
4. Bake for 40 minutes. Top with cheese. Bake 5 minutes longer or until cheese melts.

Serve with fresh strawberries

Find more great family recipes and meal planning assistance at Dine Without Whine

Words do hurt, and lately, I’ve being hearing one word in particular being flung around wildly in a way that stings unfairly: bigot.

I live just across the river from Minnesota, where marriage recently was redefined. Rather than marriage being a union between a man and woman (and any children born from that union), a child-centric institution, Minnesota has now made it, legally anyway, a genderless, adult-centric union, becoming the 12th state to do so.

The news had barely hit the press when I began seeing the word “bigot” on my Facebook news feed, posted by those who supported the change, referencing anyone who had not supported it.

Some harsh things are happening surrounding this issue and I find it very disturbing.

Just last month, I read with alarm an article on LifeSiteNews.com about a priest in Belgium who supports traditional marriage and came under attack by a group of gay activists. The women had barged into a meeting he was leading and shouted curses at him while dousing him with water.

I’m concerned about these actions, which are the result as I see it of a misunderstanding regarding what those who oppose a redefinition are really saying.

I’m not sure when it happened exactly, but somewhere along the line, it became “truth” that when someone opposes something, it means they hate anyone associated with the thing they oppose.

In the case of a redefinition of marriage, based on everything I’ve heard from those with whom I’ve spoken who oppose redefining marriage, there is no absence of love toward everyone involved — children, families, and even people with same-sex attraction who desire to love and be loved. But they are deeply concerned about the implications of redefining this bedrock societal institution, and believe it will hurt families and children.

As I’ve watched this discussion happen, it appears to me that each side is speaking a completely different language. It’s easy to see how a word like “bigot” might crop up given the misunderstanding that hate is involved, but it’s a tragic misapplication and misunderstanding. I’m disturbed because “bigot” has an awfully strong implication. “Obstinance,” “intolerance” and “hatred” are some of the words linked with its definition. And in some ways, it seems, using this word without understanding the true intent of the target is actually perpetuating an attitude of bigotry in reverse.

I’m not going to argue the definition of marriage in this post. That can be for another time. I’m just very troubled right now by the venom I am seeing spewed throughout social media surrounding this topic, all based on a misunderstood base. As a result, we are losing touch with love; hate between friends is becoming commonplace. That’s a problem, because no world can thrive when that happens.

Unfortunately, I don’t see the problem diminishing anytime soon. In fact, I see the opposite in place — an escalation. In the meantime, we must pray long and hard and not lose sight of the God of love whom we serve. When wrongly placed, hurtful accusations come at us, we must not succumb and return the same in kind.

We need to keep looking to the cross, remembering the words, “Father, they know not what they do.” It is a heavy load and becoming more so by the day, but Jesus showed us what was possible through perseverance, and we owe him our best attempt at humility and love.

According to a Catholic News Agency article, Bishop Paul D. Sirba of Duluth, Minn., lamented recently that “this debate has often been used as an occasion to sow mistrust and doubt, as if followers of the God who is Love, and whose love for all people we proclaim each day as the Body of Christ, are acting instead out of some sort of ill will.”

He stressed the need to continue in charitable defense of truth.

Someday, harmony will be restored. Trust in that, and until then, continue serving God in truth and love.

Copyright 2013 Roxane Salonen

There is another Terry; this one a young man, also diagnosed as being in a persistent vegetative state after a car accident in 1989. For nineteen years, many people wondered why his parents did not just get on with their lives. But two years before the other Terry died, he surprised everyone.

Here is his mother’s story.

image source: http://www.theterrywallisfund.org/

“Please God, let my son live,” I pleaded during the hour-long drive to the hospital.  All I knew was that Terry and his friend, Lowell “Chubs”, had been in a terrible car accident early that Saturday morning in July of 1984.  My son was just eighteen with a wife and beautiful six-week old baby girl, Amber.

Since we had no phone at that time, a neighbor had come over to tell me the hospital was trying to contact us. There had been a bad accident.  My husband Jerry was out on errands with our other two sons, Perry, and George, ages seventeen and ten.  Terry’s place was about a mile away, so I drove over to break the news to his wife, Sandy. Chub’s wife, was there also.  With a car full of family members, we sped off to the hospital in a panic.

We prayed unceasingly, pleading for the lives of Terry and Chubs.  My shock prevented any tears. I could not believe this was happening to us.

We lived a simple but happy life in a modest, two-bedroom house in Marshall, Arkansas.  The two youngest boys lived at home while my daughter Tammy and Terry both lived close by with their spouses. Jerry worked as a mechanic and I had been employed at a shirt factory for eight years.

When we reached the hospital, we were told the boys had both been taken by helicopter to Springfield Hospital, the trauma center three hours away.   We got back into the car for the longest drive of my life.

At the trauma center, we were taken aside and filled in.  Terry had a brain stem injury.  This meant paralysis was a possibility.  He had been given medication to reduce his brain swelling, but the swelling continued.

“There will be machines and a lot of tubes,” the nurse explained.  “Terry has been given medication for pain and is not awake.  It is possible he might be able to hear you, so remain calm.  We do not want to upset him further in any way.”

As I walked into the room and saw all the tubes and machines, my emotions spilled out.  I quickly stepped back out.  Shaking, crying, and gasping for air, I tried hard to get myself under control.

Taking deep breaths to calm myself, I walked over to Terry’s bedside.  Love and fear overwhelmed me as I looked at my son lying unconscious.  Yet, seeing him gave me hope.  The only physical sign of the accident was a cut over his eye that required three stitches.  Terry’s arms were twisting back and forth.  “Isn’t that good?” I asked the nurse when I saw his arms moving.  “He can’t be paralyzed if his arms are moving.”

The nurse explained that twitching arms were a reaction to his brain swelling and it was not a good sign.  I swallowed hard but could not stop my tears.  I touched his hand and struggled to keep my voice steady. “Terry, hang in there. I love you and I’m going to be here for you.”

His wife also touched his hand and talked to him reassuringly.  I looked at my boy who had always been so healthy and energetic, lying there with tubes going into him.  “This can’t be,” I thought.  But I could only pray that Terry would recover. Chubs did not make it.

It was still possible that Terry could die also. For several days the doctors tried in vain to stop his brain from swelling. Day after day the only word was: “We don’t know what the extent of his injuries will be.”

But whatever kind of life Terry would have, as his mother–the one who gave him life–I would be there for him. For weeks I slept on a couch in a waiting room.  Jerry came often with the other kids.  Together, we kept praying and reassuring Terry to hang in there.

After a few weeks, Sandy and I worked out a routine taking turns at Terry’s side.

Towards the end of October, the doctor told us that there was no longer any reason to keep Terry in the hospital.  The doctors could do no more for him.

Terry was still in a coma and was placed in a nursing home two hours away from our house. At this point, some people questioned if perhaps it would have been better for Terry to have died in the accident. If he never came out of the coma, was my desire to keep him alive selfish?  I did not want to let him go, and yet, what did Terry want?

I asked God what He wanted.  “Lord, I love Terry and I want you to heal him, but your will be done,” I prayed. “I trust in you, God.”  In the midst of my pain, I began to feel some peace. If Terry continued to live, it would be because God wanted it.

I returned to work, where I had been given a leave of absence, but I spent every other weekend at the nursing home. As Christmas neared that first year after the accident, I could not imagine a family celebration without Terry.  I wanted him home.  Since he was still in a coma, there was great concern that this would be too difficult.   I was scared but I was also determined; Terry needed to be home during Christmas.

Terry’s feeding tube was removed shortly after Thanksgiving.  I watched the nurses feed him with a syringe and decided I could manage.  Staff from the nursing home helped us carry Terry into the car.  Family and friends helped us carry him into the house once we got him home.

In the familiar setting of home and surrounded by family and friends, loved ones came by to wish Terry a Merry Christmas. Everyone talked to him as if he were the old Terry.  He was still in a coma, but I believed he had to know the difference between being in the nursing home and being at home.  I could not prove it, but I felt it with my whole heart.

From that time on, we started bringing Terry home every other weekend.  By the end of the next year, Terry was moved into a nursing home in the town where I worked. I frequently stopped by to see him after work and we brought him home every weekend.

The months turned into years–five, ten, fifteen– and people saw no improvement.  Terry’s young wife got on with her life.  His daughter, Amber only occasionally saw her father as she grew up.  A few people questioned the wisdom of bringing him home every weekend but most of our family and friends supported us.  It was a strain, but Jerry and I were united in our unwavering love for Terry.

Like a bud that blooms so slowly that its movement is imperceptible, Jerry and I felt that our son was opening up.  It was so gradual that it escaped others. There were little things like a blink or a wink.  One day, Terry laughed.  And once Terry did something, he could continue to do it.

Driving with Terry in the car one morning, his head bobbed up and down after I asked him a question.  I paid no attention, thinking it was the bouncing of the car that caused it.  But Jerry cried out:  “Look, he’s answering you.  He’s shaking his head yes!” From that moment on, Terry was able to shake his head when asked a question.  Later on, he started making the sound: “uh-huh.”

Nineteen years after the accident, on Wednesday, June 11, 2003, I walked into Terry’s room and said “Hi, Terry,” as I always did.  One of the nursing home aides asked him, “Who is that Terry?”

“Mom,” he answered clearly.  I almost fell over I was so shocked.  The aid and I looked at each other with the same astonished expressions on our faces. Tears of joy rolled down our laughing cheeks as we ran over and hugged Terry.

“Did you hear that?” I cried. “He said ‘Mom!’ Terry, say that again!”

Terry laughed and again said “Mom”, the most beautiful word I had ever heard.

Terry did not say another word that day, but after nineteen years, he had spoken!  His one word was more incredible than his first “mamma” so many years before.  We brought him home for a weekend visit that Friday.  I kept asking him questions that he could answer with “Mom.”  Later that day, I got him to say “Pepsi.”

On Saturday morning, I awoke to turn him over at 4 a.m., which was a necessary task.  This was always a time when I would talk with him.  Terry was mumbling.

“I know you are trying to tell me something,” I said.  “Just keep trying and I’ll catch it,” I told him.  He kept struggling until  “Mom and Dad”  tumbled out.

“Say it again,” I pleaded excitedly through my tears.

Terry repeated:  “Mom and Dad.”

“Terry, tomorrow is Father’s Day,” I cried.  “When Dad gets up, we’ll tell him what you can say.  It will be his Father’s Day present from you.”

When Jerry got up, I could not contain my excitement.  “Jerry, Terry has a Father’s Day present for you,” I said, escorting him to Terry’s bedside.  Then, very clearly, Terry spoke:  “Mom and Dad.”

Jerry is not one given to emotions, but tears glistened in his eyes.  “That’s the best Father’s Day present I could have,” he said.

For breakfast, I expected Terry to ask for Pepsi–his new word–when I asked him what he wanted to drink.  Instead, he said: “Milk.”

When a nurse at the nursing home learned of all Terry’s words, she arranged for a speech therapist to visit Terry.  “Angilee, I believe he will be speaking in full sentences within a week,” she announced.

The next week, when I walked into his room, he was telling the people around him that his birthday was April 7, 1964.  I laughed and hugged him then asked:  “Terry, what else can you say?”

“Anything I want,” he answered, laughing.

By the end of August we brought Terry home to stay.  I quit my job to care for him full-time.  His daughter Amber is nineteen now.  She comes every day to spend time with her dad.  She loves Terry just because he is her dad.

Terry is a quadriplegic as a result of the accident.  Yet, many times he has told me,”I’m so happy.”  God did want Terry to live and now I know Terry also wanted to survive.  My family is still the center of my life, but  God is also there with us.

My son’s life is a miracle.  I keep praying and trusting, that God will continue to see us all through.

###

Follow up:  Three years after he “woke up” in 2003, research on Wallis, was published in the Journal of Clinical Investigation concluding that the nerve fibers from the cells in Wallis’ brain remained intact. It was reported by Dr. James Bernat, neurologist at Dartmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center in New Hampshire that Schiavo’s brain cells had died. Nerve cells that have not died can form new connections although it is very rare in brain cells. The belief is that for nineteen years, while others had given up on Wallis, he may have been very slowly recovering as nerves in his brain formed new connections.

Still, there was no definitive explanation as to how, after nineteen years in a coma, Terry came out of it. His parents reported that as his recovery continues, his old personality returned to the point that he can even make jokes. “He now seems almost exactly like his old self. And he very often tells us how glad he is to be alive,” Jerry Wallis said.

This story was originally told to me for  Amazing Grace for Mothers.

The Wallis family is very private and only went public with their story with the hope of getting more help for Terry. To read more or to donate go to: http://www.theterrywallisfund.org/history.html

Copyright 2013 Patti Maguire Armstrong

A while back, I reviewed an awesome new Bible study from Ascension Press and mentioned casually that I was interested in possibly hosting something online here.

And y’all responded enthusiastically, indicating an interest and a desire for something like this.

So here we are, with an announcement for something that’s the brainchild of a mom-writer-catechist I admire, has the blessing of our fearless founder, and is based on a book I’ve been meaning to read.

Lawn Chair Catechism

Lawn Chair Catechism is going to be our journey together through Sherry Weddell’s Forming Intentional Disciples: The Path to Knowing and Following Jesus. You can participate whether you’re reading the book or not.

Our own Jen Fitz put together a discussion guide, which will be the basis for our posts here, as well as a 2-pager with only the discussion questions.

Through June 6, Our Sunday Visitor will be offering the book for $10 with free shipping. From June 7 on, you can order it with free shipping from Our Sunday Visitor. Simply click here to purchase the book from them or pick it up at your nearest Catholic bookstore.

Tune in on Wednesdays:

Each Wednesday, starting May 29, at 6 a.m. Eastern (3 a.m. Pacific), we’ll have a post beginning the conversation. It will include discussion questions and a linky-do so that other bloggers can link to their thoughts and you can click around to see the discussion.

And, of course, we’ll have discussion here in the comments.

A bit about the book:

You might wonder why we picked this book. As it turns out, it was highly recommended. I’ve had it on my own review shelf for a lonnnng time. It’s come to us recommended by priests and laity, friends and family, reviewers and normal folk.

According to Christian LeBlanc,

Particulars aside, the main reason I like this book is that it plops the responsibility for New Evangelizing right where it belongs: in the lap of the laity. And having done so, it then shows how the laity can get the job done. Not by talking about the New Evangelization, but by generating a critical mass of intentional disciples in one’s parish. Based on my experience, if a parish has that, New Evangelization happens of its own accord.

I’m not going into more detail. I’ll close by saying that any Catholic who wants to see his or her parish become salt and light to the world would find this book both an interesting read and a useful guide.

A field guide for evangelizing? Yeah, I’m sold.

And then Jennifer Fitz said:

Summary: Excellent book, long-needed.  I recommend it widely, but my copy is staying in my hands.

I took note when Will Duquette posted:

The Catholic Church as a body understands how to know and love and follow Jesus. But many of us in the pews do not; and that’s what this book is about: encouraging Catholics like me to spread the word, as well as sage advice on how to go about it.

For their part, Our Sunday Visitor (Weddell’s publisher) describes the book this way:

How can we transmit a living, personal Catholic faith to future generations? By coming to know Jesus Christ, and following him as his disciples.

These are times of immense challenge and immense opportunity for the Catholic Church.

Consider these statistics for the United States.

• Only 30 percent of Americans who were raised Catholic are still practicing.
• Fully 10 percent of all adults in America are ex-Catholics.
• The number of marriages celebrated in the Church decreased dramatically, by nearly 60 percent, between 1972 and 2010.
• Only 60 percent of Catholics believe in a personal God.

If the Church is to reverse these trends, the evangelizers must first be evangelized-in other words, Catholics-in-the-pew must make a conscious choice to know and follow Jesus before they can draw others to him. This work of discipleship lies at the heart of Forming Intentional Disciples, a book designed to help Church leaders, parish staff and all Catholics transform parish life from within.
Drawing upon her fifteen years of experience with the Catherine of Siena Institute, Sherry Weddell leads readers through steps that will help Catholics enter more deeply into a relationship with God and the river of apostolic creativity, charisms, and vocation that flow from that relationship for the sake of the Church and the world.

Learn about the five thresholds of postmodern conversion, how to open a conversation about faith and belief, how to ask thought-provoking questions and establish an atmosphere of trust, when to tell the Great Story of Jesus, how to help someone respond to God’s call to intentional discipleship, and much more.

And be prepared for conversion because when life at the parish level changes, the life of the whole Church will change.

Want to do it with your friends?

We know not everyone will be able to read along, so we wanted to make this something that can have a long life.

We have resources for you on the Lawn Chair Catechism landing page. If you’re ambitious and want to set up a parish group (now or in the future), they will remain there for you.

See you next Wednesday!

Be sure to check out our Book Notes archive.

Copyright 2013, Sarah Reinhard

Be a Virtue Magnet

For we are His handiwork…Ephesians 2:10

After I finished the supper dishes tonight, I asked my son Jason what I should write tomorrow’s blog about.  He grinned and said, “Why don’t you write about how awesome I am.”  I laughed and said, “Ok, tell me three things that make you awesome.”  He declined.  He said through his goofy little laugh, “You have to think of them cause if I do that would just be bragging.”  I thanked him for his sudden burst of humility.  An hour later, here I sit and I can’t seem to move past the topic.  It’s important for everyone to understand that our Jason is and has always been the “funny guy” of the house and he is going to be completely stunned when sees this blog and realizes he gave his mamma the perfect idea.

Not wanting to sound like a gushing mother, I went directly to Jason’s little sister Shannon for an objective perspective and told her what I was planning to write about. She smiled and said, “That will be the easiest blog you’ve ever written.”  She went on to tell me that Jason was the funniest, friendliest, most patient guy she knew.  She also added that he was a great teacher, he wasn’t spoiled or worried about showing off and best of all, he always talks to everyone including his little sister in the hallways at school. “He’s someone I really look up to…he’s my role model.” she said sweetly.  WOW!  I’ll admit it, my eyes leaked a few tears!  Everything she mentioned had to do with how her brother treated others and not about his personal talents or gifts. If I was a bettin’ woman, I would bet if I ask Jason to tell me about Shannon, he would come up with a similar list.  Dave and I have been blessed with three great kids but their goodness or “awesomeness” as Jason would say comes not from us, but from the God who shared them with us.  They seek and share the positive.

Yesterday I spent a terrific day with a group of school staff and parents from all over the Lansing area learning about Virtues based school discipline.  One of the many, many great things I took from that day was a powerful reminder of the value of looking for the good in others and focusing on the positives.  We began with a sharing circle and we were asked to speak about a person who had been an inspiration to us.  It was a very powerful experience leaving us all realizing how blessed we were.  Many times a training like this would have begun by asking us to share our biggest problem or issue with student behavior.  Automatically starting with something positive framed the attitude and atmosphere for the entire day. We discussed the three Theological Virtues which are Faith, Hope and Love.  If we were to speak and act with those virtues and look for those virtues in others the world would change in an instant.  We were reminded of the words of Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta who when asked what needed to change most in this world, she simply pointed to herself and said, “I do.”

Living a virtuous life is putting the Gospel message in action.  Treating others with kindness, compassion, love, patience and humility is the stuff Mother Teresa was referring to. Treating others that way gives us hearts and eyes to see God’s handiwork in others, especially the ones that are difficult.  What do you suppose would happen if the next time that challenging person in your life entered the room you IMMEDIATELY began to think of three positive things about them instead of the things about them that frustrate or annoy you.  That’s virtue in action.  What if instead of pointing out you hard work and effort you made it a point to recognize the work and effort of someone else first. What if we each made it our mission today to purposely make someone else look good.  Give it a try.

If you made a list of the people you enjoy being around most, chances are those are the people who are positive and demonstrate virtue. Those kinds of folks are like magnets because we all seek what they freely offer.  Instead of seeking that person…why not BE that person. We are His handiwork so that means we have all the equipment necessary…we simply have to ask Him to show us which virtue to begin practicing first.

A seed to plant: Take ten minutes to do a search of virtues or read Colossians 3:12-13.  Pray over those words and ask God to show you where to begin.

Blessings on your day!

Copyright 2013 Sheri Wohlfert

‘Come, let us reason together’  Isaiah 1: 18

Is there an atheist in your life? Someone you love and have done everything in your power to pull into the light, to no avail?  Maybe you don’t know how to convince them. Maybe you’ve been going round after round with them, but your punches never land,  your arguments go in one ear and out the other. Maybe you’re starting to feel a bit like that angel wrestling Jacob all night in Genesis. Maybe you’re about ready to throw in the towel!

Then maybe it’s time to tag someone else to enter the ring.

We often feel like we have to convert the people we love. The truth is, only God converts hearts. Sometimes He chooses us to be His instruments, but, just as often, He chooses someone a little further from the heart of the one being converted. At times, it’s easier to hear what someone is saying when we aren’t in a daily relationship with them.

If you struggle communicating with an atheist loved one, introduce them to Brandon Vogt’s StrangNotions.com. Hopefully, this new site by the author  of The Church and New Media will level the playing field enough for God to get a foothold into their heart.

Most atheists are either very intelligent (or, at least, think they are). They require a very high level of dialogue that can be plain exhausting for most of us. And the simple truth is, not every Catholic has the ability to argue apologetics effectively with an atheist. Not many are called to that particular work, but, those who are can now gather in one place to do polite intellectual battle.

This army of acclaimed and celebrated Catholic thinkers, are prepared to fight for the souls of your loved ones through kind and respectful discourse on Strange Notions. The crew includes Fr. Robert Barron, Dr. Janet Smith, Fr. Robert Spitzer, Christopher West , Jimmy Akin, Devin Rose, Jennifer Fulwiler, and (my personal favorite) Dr Peter Kreeft ,

Built on Paul’s Aeropagus Sermon in Acts 17, Strange Notions sets out to be a gathering place for reasonable and open-minded atheists and Catholics to come together and debate the great questions that so fascinate the heart and mind of humanity:

• Is there a God?
• Where did the universe come from?
• What is our purpose?
• Why is there evil?
• Can (has) science disprove(d) God ?

This site has been two years in the making by the masterful Brandon Vogt, who has been on the forefront of the new evangelization movement. Beautifully crafted and aesthetically pleasing, this is one of the best organized websites I have ever seen. It is jam-packed with information, yet everything is easy to find.

So, the next time you get in a stalemate with some atheist online, or find yourself exasperated with  an unbelieving loved one, prayerfully put them in God’s hands and direct them to Strange Notions.

While currently Catholic-centric, the plan is to eventually invite atheist to fully contribute their own content. While everyone naturally will approach the debate from their own point of view, the site strives to be open-minded. After all, one shouldn’t expect the atheist to listen to a Catholic argument with an open mind if Catholics aren’t willing to extend the same courtesy.

The rules and tips section should receive an Internet Nobel Peace prize. If everyone followed theses guidelines for online discussions, the world would be a more peaceful place.

It will be interesting, indeed, to see if it achieves its goal of civil debate between such polar extremes. Strange Notions is definitely a site to watch. Let us hope and pray it fulfills its potential and becomes a successful and productive endeavor.

Read more of our Tech Talk columns.

Copyright 2013 Jen Haganey

Watch this video on YouTube.

Vancouver, BC, May.1, 2013 — MV Studios and Airace Productions are pleased to announce, after 7 months of production the short film “Letter to a Priest”. Motivated by the Year of Faith and the Catholics Come Home campaign, director Clayton Richard Long set out to create a film that would attract souls to Christ. “The film is only 12 mins in length, with a short running time it can be a challenge to create an engaging, thought provoking film, the key to this was keeping our visuals fresh and our action moving at a constant pace.”

“The ‘door of faith’ (Acts14: 27) is always open for us, ushering us into the life of communion with God and offering entry into his Church.”—Pope Benedict XVI, Apostolic Letter Porta Fidei for the Induction of the Year of Faith.

Letter to a Priest is a short film inspired by “Lettre à un Religieux”, a book by French philosopher Simone Weil.

A scene from “Letter to a Priest”

The film centers around “Jenny” a university student who, in refusing to be baptized, takes Simone Weil as the model for her life, she comes into conflict with her former boyfriend when she finds out that he, a formerly lapsed Catholic, is now planning to get married in the Catholic Church with his new fiancée, an Evangelical now converting to Catholicism.

Follow “Letter to a Priest” on Facebook for news and screening information.

Watch this video on YouTube.

The winner of The American Bible Challenge Fan Favorite contest will be announced during the show, as well, and will receive $10,000 for their team’s charity.

Should they win, the Dominican Sisters will use their winnings from the show to provide for the treatment and care of the aging Sisters in the Order, and to ensure that they are provided for as they advance into retirement.

They’ve had a terrific run on the show – surely their “winning attitude” has taught many about today’s Religious Sisters and the beauty of our Faith. We’ll be cheering for you tonight Sisters! Good luck!

Watch the Game Show Network’s “The American Bible Challenge” finale tonight at 9 p.m. ET/8 p.m. CT.

Persistent Prayerful Silence

We have this little bird house hanging under our carport. Every year one little Mama bird is brave enough to venture close enough to make her nest in it and each spring we get to hear the babies chirp and cry out until she comes with a worm, cricket, or whatever other kind of morsel of food for them to snack on.

Today I watched as she came back over and over and OVER again with food. She barely fits inside her house because the babies take up most of the room. She nervously darts around watching my boys and our cats carefully each time she comes back to feed her young. I think she left and came back 10 times in hour we were outside. Finally, she settled the bird house for her own lunch and rest time.

I admired her quiet persistence. That Momma bird just went about her job of feeding her young and had such a purpose and determination to do it! It made me picture myself, fixing lunch for my family. So often and how I complain out loud if I have to get up to get something for somebody else fourteen times before I even get to take a bite.

I hope to learn from this small creature. I want to go about my daily jobs more quietly. I love to talk on the phone way too much or sometimes, I just fill up the air with words when I probably could accomplish my task in a more prayerful silence, listening to the children instead of talking over them.

My own three little boys are growing, changing and giving me great joy. I see the joy they bring people when we go out. Especially when my youngest makes eye contact or approaches those we just met I often get many comments about how lucky I am to see his face each day. They are absolutely right!!

This week has been full of new babies, with my sister and best friend having babies a day a part! No matter how many children are in my life, each one is exciting in its own way. The more I get to know my kids, nieces, nephews and my friend’s kids I realize it doesn’t matter how many people there are out there, each one is unique and has something special to offer this world. When holding a baby, it is easier to be quiet, knowing they mostly take comfort in your presence and touch.

Do you sometimes struggle with persistent prayerful silence? I think more of this in my day could lead me closer to Christ.

Copyright 2013 Laura Buller

21 Ways to Worship

If the thought of a book about Eucharistic Adoration makes you feel guilty, sleepy, overwhelmed or uncomfortable, prepare to have your mind changed. That’s what happened to me when I picked up 21 Ways to Worship: A Guide to Eucharistic Adoration by best-selling author Vinny Flynn.

It’s probably a big, fat, sinful faux pas for for me to admit it, but I have suffered over the years from a bit of a guilt complex when it comes to the topic of Eucharistic Adoration.

My parish is blessed with a lovely 24 hour adoration chapel where I can luxuriate in Christ’s true presence, but I’ve declined to commit to a regularly-scheduled hour because of my sporadic travel schedule. For that reason, I don’t have access to the “key” that unlocks our chapel (sadly, secured because of prior acts of desecration). So my visits to that chapel are less frequent than I’d like. I’ve hesitated to “pop in” unscheduled in the past year, because I can rarely commit to an entire “holy hour”. Instead, I frequently visit a nearby chapel where I can make a visit to an unlocked chapel during the day, pray in Christ’s presence and move in and out quietly without disrupting other adorers.

OK, enough of “true confessions of Catholic Mom”. And enter Vinny Flynn’s amazing book 21 Ways to Worship: A Guide to Eucharistic Adoration. From it’s bright purple cover to its amazingly inviting tone, this is the book that will smash your previously held misconceptions of Adoration. Vinny’s tone is fun, inviting, and actually infectious. His sharing of his own personal experiences will have you nodding, smiling, and feeling less guilty than perhaps you’ve felt in the past. Adoration is a gift — indeed the greatest gift we can receive — and Vinny is the friend who wants to hold your hand and lead you to its riches.

My favorite chapter in this book is joyfully called, “Please don’t snore!” In it, Vinny Flynn addresses the concern that so many moms share on the fear that once they finally find two minutes to quietly pray, they run the risk of falling asleep. Vinny reminds us how we would feel if one of our beloved children slept (or worked, or played) lovingly in our presence — how filled with joy our hearts would be at the mere pleasure of their presence. And doesn’t God, our Father, desire the very same of you and I?

21 Ways to Worship: A Guide to Eucharistic Adoration is the perfect companion for those of us who need a reminder that we are “good enough” — just as we are — to deserve time in the presence of the God who loves us so greatly. If you’ve been away from Adoration for some reason, this book will be your faithful companion as you journey home. If you are already in the practice of praying in the presence of the Eucharist regularly, you too will benefit from Flynn’s work. There’s truly something for everyone between the covers of this book.

I’m pleased to be a small part of Vinny Flynn’s ongoing blog tour. To read what others are saying about this book, visit the rest of the tour.

Vinny Flynn

Known internationally as the best-selling author of 7 Secrets of the Eucharist, 21 Ways to Worship, and as the man who sings the Divine Mercy Chaplet on EWTN, Vinny Flynn is also a popular speaker at parish missions, conferences, and retreats. Formerly the Executive Editor at the Marian Helpers Center and General Manager of Divine Mercy International, Vinny is one of the foremost experts on the message of The Divine Mercy and is now the Executive Director of MercySong Ministries of Healing. His relatable style and his powerful teachings on the Sacraments, Our Lady, Divine Mercy, and the Father’s love have been called “Healing” “Uplifting” and “Life-changing. Visit him at www.VinnyFlynn.com. 

Order 21 Ways to Worship: A Guide to Eucharistic Adoration and support CatholicMom.com with your purchase

Be sure to check out our Book Notes archive.

Want to win a free copy of 21 Ways To Worship? Simply leave a comment below by midnight (Pacific time) on Monday, May 26, 2013. One winner randomly selected.

Copyright 2013 Lisa M. Hendey

Homeschooling or Unschooling?

I’ve heard bits and pieces about unschooling from some of you since Ifirst began this homeschooling journey.  It never really sounded like it was for us (I’m a ‘routine’ kind of gal, and if it’s not a plan set in stone, it likely isn’t going to happen around here), but incorporating pieces and parts of it might not be so bad.

Something inside of me wonders if I’ll look back and wish I had ‘gotten it’ sooner about unschooling, the way I wish I had ‘gotten it’ sooner about homeschooling.

Continue reading My World Is Rocked (I Need Your Thoughts on Unschooling and Giving Kids Free Reign on Screen Time)

Arts & Faith from Loyola Press

A religion teacher who prays while singing opera. A lieutenant in Afghanistan who brings spiritual healing to soldiers through artwork. A young dancer who uses movement to interpret Scripture. A Jesuit who studies Mexican drug ballads to find God’s presence. These are a few of the fascinating stories we’ll be bringing you in Loyola Press’s new series, Arts and Faith.

Arts and Faith is a collection of stories from Catholics around the globe who demonstrate the inspiring—and surprising—ways art expresses and deepens their relationship with God.

The special series kicks off on LoyolaPress.com with daily articles, videos, slide shows, podcasts and more from four categories of interpretive art: Music, Dance, Drama and Visual Arts.

Arts and Faith covers a wide scope of the personal and public ways faith is shared. A catechist explains why and how arts and crafts should be used in the classroom. A twenty-something describes his ministry of playing the organ at multiple parishes every weekend. A faith formation leader reflects on how she prays a form of the Examen through photography. Whether you’re a catechist, an artist, or a creative soul, you’re sure to find inspiration and meaning in the stories you’ll hear.

The stories in Arts and Faith capture snapshots of how spirituality is explored, revealed and ultimately, celebrated in our faith communities. We hope these 40+ stories inspire you to tap your own talents to express your faith through sewing, sculpting, design, fashion, cooking, collage, spoken word, photography, poetry, modern dance, and so on.

As our series illustrates, you don’t have to be a Monet to participate in the arts. Jump in, explore the stories, and share the creative ways you’re expressing your faith!

See http://www.loyolapress.com/arts-and-faith.htm

Advice from Marybeth Hicks

To: Marybeth
From: Opposed to cohabiting

Can you offer any advice for my young adult daughters about why not to live with their boyfriends? I feel strongly that living together is to be saved for marriage, but it is hard for them to understand because “everyone is doing it” and they think I’m just old fashioned. They are (or will soon be) independent adults, making good choices otherwise. So far we haven’t had to cross this bridge, but I’d like to be ready with some great advice and suggestions.

To: Opposed
From: Mb

If only “everyone” always made smart decisions. It would be so much easier to go along with what’s cool and current, wouldn’t it?

Unfortunately, changing societal attitudes about marriage have taken a toll on the institution itself, and even young adults who have been raised with the example of a healthy, traditional marriage exhibit skepticism — if not cynicism — about the value of it’s traditions, especially about the importance of establishing a home in the context of marriage.

When your daughters say “everyone is doing it,” it’s possible that everyone they know really is. A recent study from the National Center for Health Statistics says from 2006 to 2010 nearly half (48 percent) of women 15 to 44 years old cohabited outside of marriage. That number is up from 43 percent in 2002 and 34 percent in 1995. So the trend is for greater numbers of women to move in with a partner before marriage.

In fact, less than a quarter of “first unions,” defined as a first marriage or first cohabitation, were marriages during the span of the study.

Additionally, cohabiting couples are delaying marriage for longer periods of time. If young women believe that moving in with a boyfriend will speed up the process of getting married, the statistics indicate otherwise. In 1995, the average length of living together before marriage was 14 months. In the CHS study, the average was 21 months.

And a full 20 percent of cohabiting women became pregnant in their first year of cohabitation. Forty percent of first-year cohabitations transitioned into marriage within three years, but 27 percent dissolved within five years.

Yet statistics aren’t what compel young adults when it comes to decisions about marriage and living together. Love and optimism go hand-in-hand, after all, and all the data in the world won’t convince them that moving in with a boyfriend isn’t in their best interests, especially if they also cite pragmatic concerns such as the cost of maintaining two apartments.

You’re smart to look ahead and have conversations about this subject well before the time when such decisions are being made. But rather than focus your comments on the mistake you think it would be to cohabit, reinforce your confidence in the good decisions your daughters are making, and on your belief in the institution of marriage.

Obviously, you can’t control the actions of independent adults, and trying to do so (think: withholding love, support, future wedding funds) is unlikely to result in anything but strife. Instead, share these thoughts with your daughters early and often:

“I believe with all my heart that establishing your home in the context of marriage is the best step you can take to commit to your loved one and begin your life together. I’m here to do anything I can to support your decision to get married and to create a home. I love you and I want what’s best for you, and while you are free to make your own choices, I want you to know that I believe your happiness and the stability of your love will be greatest if you marry before you move in together.”

Just in case, you might want to memorize some statistics, too.

Have a question about parenting in today’s culture? Email marybeth@marybethhicks.com.

Copyright 2013 Marybeth Hicks