Of Pirates, Prayer and the Importance of Accountability

I really need to be accountable. That's why I have Atticus. And children. And a cat. And a scale. And a best friend. And a spiritual director.

This weekend, I got to see my best friend and my spiritual director. I saw Atticus, the children and the cat, too, of course, but you hear about them every day, so let's move on. The best friend and the director live in Omaha, so I don't see them as often. Saturday, I had the chance to see them both, so it was a good day for accountability.

You don't really need to know, and you probably don't care, about the things I was struggling with. Like most of us, I have the same things arise again and again. My spiritual director compares God's work on these issues -- anyone's issues -- to an onion. God peels away a layer or two at a time, helping us to get closer to the core.  My best friend has always compared it to an upward spiral: our struggles keep coming up, repeating themselves, which can be discouraging. But we are being pulled upward.

Both analogies work on the same level: we're making progress, but it's slow. Sometimes painful. Sometimes we don't feel as if we've gotten very far.

When I was an atheist, I assumed that people who had conversions were all like St. Paul: instantly different in every way.  What I've learned, as a Christian, is that some things are instantly different (let's face it, to become a Catholic is to adopt some rather dramatic changes in one's life) but other things are lifelong learning experiences. Core sins or ways of being take time to change.  Most likely, though the substance of the struggles is the same, the accidents, or the way in which those struggles manifest, is very different when we are 30 or 40 or 50 than it was when we were 15 or 20 years old.

I like to take the spiral analogy and visualize it even further. I picture the spiral as something very tightly, painfully wound at the bottom -- wound so tightly it can barely be moved or untwisted. But, as God' work begins, the spring begins to loosen. And as it is unwound, the spiral opens, and widens, and moves ever upward, widening our perspective of it as well.  So, as we move upward on this spiraling, expanding path, we get a better view, a clearer and wider sense of the things we're untangling and dealing with.

I share this because if you are ever discouraged by the fact that you seem to revisit the same sins or the same patterns of behavior repeatedly, I hope you won't despair. Compare yourself to where you were five years ago with the same sin. What about ten years ago?  Do you handle it differently?  If you're striving to seriously live your faith life, my guess is that you do handle it differently. A particular temptation or inclination might still be there, but you're probably approaching it in new and better ways all the time.

Does an alcoholic stop wanting to drink? Usually not. Does a recovering alcoholic stay away from alcohol? Yes. It's the same thing with all of our sins and temptations. We're still the same people, but the ways in which we live and behave do change, with God's grace. Sometimes we even stop wanting the drink, the sin, the temptation. God can transform us that completely.

Having said all that, I'm rerunning something that I need to revisit regularly and so I'm assuming you do, too. It's what my director called the "A-R-R-R" method of prayer, and what I then dubbed pirate prayer. All you have to remember is "ARRR" (but you don't have to add "Matey" or do anything that makes you feel really foolish. You can even eschew my silly pirate label and call it something respectable, such as "a method of prayer for those of us who enjoy acronyms.")

ARRR stands for:

Acknowledge
Relate
Receive
Respond

These steps in prayer are especially helpful to me when I'm responding to something with a great deal of emotion. At times, I find (or my spiritual director oh-so-gently points out) that I've intellectually sifted through a problem, but I'm still reacting strongly to the situation. Intellect is not enough. It's time to take it to God in prayer, and "ARRR" helps me in this way:

Acknowledge

Acknowledge what I'm feeling -- what I'm really feeling, not what I think I should feel, what I wish I could feel, what I think God wants me to feel. Acknowledge -- to myself -- my true feelings. No matter how irrational, unjustifiable or unpleasant they may be.

Relate 

Hand those feelings over to God. Tell Him everything -- tell Him what I've honestly recognized in myself. Lay it down at His feet. Give it utterly and completely to Him.

Receive

Receive what God has to offer me in return. Is He calling me to forgiveness? To healing? To action? To grieving? Be open to what He offers. (This may not come right away. Be patient.)

Respond

This is self-explanatory. What did I receive from God, and how will I put that into practice, into action?

These steps don't always occur as neatly as I've spelled them out. The "Acknowledge and Relate" stages may stretch out over many moments or sessions of prayer. Sometimes I find that I have to acknowledge over and over again what I'm really feeling about something before I'm ready to move on. So, the "Acknowledge and Relate" stages may include tears or times of simply pouring my heart out to our loving God. Because I have to empty myself of my self before I'm ready to receive anything from the Lord.

But, I also have to remember that I can't get stuck in the "Acknowledge and Relate" stages. Reminding myself that I'm in the middle of a process is so helpful. When I've really and truly given up to God all that I've been holding on to, He will pour out new graces that I'll then be ready to receive. Knowing that I'm only two steps into a process wards off despair and nurtures hope. And it keeps me from stagnating in self pity or sadness.

I know that there will be gifts to receive, and that He will give me the strength to respond to them.

"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." (Phil. 4:13)

Tomorrow: Discernment

Quote for a Saturday

When I am completely united to You, there will be no more sorrow or trials; entirely full of You, my life will be complete.

~~ St. Augustine 

Poetry Friday: Late Have I Loved You

Late have I loved you, O Beauty ever ancient, ever new, late have I loved you!

You were within me, but I was outside, and it was there that I searched for you. In my unloveliness I plunged into the lovely things which you created. You were with me, but I was not with you. Created things kept me from you; yet if they had not been in you they would have not been at all.

You called, you shouted, and you broke through my deafness. You flashed, you shone, and you dispelled my blindness. You breathed your fragrance on me; I drew in breath and now I pant for you.

I have tasted you, now I hunger and thirst for more. You touched me, and I burned for your peace.

~~ Confessions

Poetry Friday is at The Book Aunt today.

Quote for a Thursday

"I was the lion who forced you to join with Aravis. I was the cat who comforted you among the houses of the dead. I was the lion who drove the jackals from you while you slept. I was the lion who gave the horses the new strength of fear for the last mile so that you should reach King Lune in time. And I was the lion you do not remember who pushed the boat in which you lay, a child near death, so that it came to shore where a man sat, wakeful at night, to receive you."

"Then it was you who wounded Aravis?"

"It was I."

"But what for?"

"Child," said the Voice, "I am telling you your story, not hers. I tell no one any story but his own."

 ~~ C.S. Lewis, The Horse and His Boy

Ahhh, St. Monica

I used to pray to her constantly for my husband's conversion. Her perseverance was my light.

I still ask for her intercession for others ... some of them are people I don't see anymore. I'm thinking of a friend from college. We fell out of touch several years ago -- I don't think he ever got over his annoyance at my conversion, and I wonder sometimes if he would still think of my prayers for him as "condescending."

I remember that feeling so well -- bristling at someone's prayers for me. The arrogance! Who were they to decide that I needed prayers, anyway? The very fact that they were asking their version of God to "help" or "change" me struck me as extraordinarily patronizing.

So, perhaps remember that if you're praying for someone's conversion.

At some stages in the conversion process, we don't really want to hear about your prayers. 

That doesn't mean we don't need them. That we won't one day understand them. It doesn't mean we don't want your love and friendship.

It just means -- sometimes -- keeping one's mouth closed a little more often than one might like.

At the same time -- and this can be even trickier than not talking -- it means knowing when to speak up, when to speak the truth in love.  But that's really another post, which will be partially inspired by my own experience, and partially by this bit of explanation from the St. Monica entry at Women for Faith and Family:

During this anguished period of prayer for her son, Monica consulted a bishop who had himself been a Manichaean before he became a Christian. He declined to intervene with Augustine, whom, the bishop correctly observed, was not open to hearing the truth. She persisted tearfully, but he refused to intervene. Nevertheless, the bishop consoled Monica that "the child of those tears shall never perish", which she took as a sign from God. Though he continued in his heresies for nine years, Monica followed Augustine to Rome and then to Milan, in an effort to rescue her son from his errors. In Milan she met Ambrose, who helped lead Augustine into the true faith.


Monica's earthly anguish was prolonged, but God was leading. He always does.

Keeping It Simple

This is a rerun from '06, but it nicely sums up where I am with much of our school planning this year -- aside from a few major items (Teaching Textbooks for the older girls, a lecture series from the Teaching Company, biology materials), I'm doing a lot of shopping on my own bookshelves, just as I mentioned here.

*****

In School-proof, Mary Pride reminds me of the things I love about homeschooling, and of what is possible: the simplicity, the directness of the teaching, the wonderful eschewing of all-things-clutter.

One of the reasons I love homeschooling is that the kids and I get to make decisions about what we do, what we study, what we read and when we read it. My standing joke in our first year at home (after having my eldest attend Kindergarten) was that I would never again be caught off-guard by a last-minute note requesting three large soda bottles for a "fun and educational craft project." Such notes inevitably left me whining, "But we don't even buy those big bottles!"

In a chapter entitled, "Educational Clutter's Last Stand," Mary reminds us that an awful lot of what passes for curriculum is just busy work. As homeschoolers, we can easily identify busy work when a child is in school. But sometimes we lose sight of it when we become the teachers. All those delicious curriculum catalogs, those exciting ideas, the fun-and-educational projects ... they're so tempting, aren't they? And before we know it, we're the bad-guy, sending ourselves a last-minute mental note to scrounge up three large soda bottles. Yikes.

I like rereading Mary's book because she keeps me grounded in a simple truth. She says,

The secret is out -- the better teacher you get to be, the less you will need expensive curriculum and supplies. A beginning teacher can teach all her children to read with a prepackaged curriculum and have them reading years ahead in six months or less. A good teacher can teach phonics with a few simple readers, flash cards and a chalkboard. A great teacher can do it with library books and a pencil and ten sheets of paper! The difference is simply that the great teacher knows exactly where she is going and how to handle each roadblock or opportunity along the way.

Overcoming Link Laziness to Share Levertov, Courtesy of Aquilina

Having the "Shared Items" in my Google Reader has left me lackadaisical about link sharing.  Too many posts, too little time, too much typing ... you know the drill.

But, go read this one from Mike Aquilina.

"to share out joy as if it were cake or water,

something ordinary, not rare at all."

Go read it. 

Bits and Pieces of Our Days

Last month, Ramona had her seventh birthday.  We were luxuriating in a fully equipped cabin camping at the time, however, so the birthday party didn't happen until this weekend:

* Six deliriously happy little girls
* Unspeakable amounts of chocolate and sugar and artificial dyes
* Balloons and presents and streamers
* My much-needed nap after everyone went home (yes, I needed a nap even with Amazing Betsy jumping in and acting like the best Kindergarten teacher you could imagine. It seems like just a breath ago that Betsy turned seven ... now there is nothing seven about her. Sigh.) 

And now, Ramona is officially, truly, madly, deeply seven.

Here she is, working on party invitations: 

*****

School planning continues. My head is spinning -- I have two teenagers and a second grader. When did that happen? Somewhere between camping and unspeakable amounts of chocolate.

And speaking of truly, madly, deeply that's how much I love Teaching Textbooks.  And no, I am not fickle.  I am simply spanning the globe to bring you the constant variety of math books available ... the thrill of victory, the agony of defeat (cue the calculator smashing into the wall.)

No Teaching Textbooks for Ramona, though. I'm more informal in second grade, though she's requested a workbook with a princess on it. I can handle that.

*****

Work, work, work ... write, write, write ....

I have an article about novenas in the September/October issue of OSV's The Catholic Answer.  My article is not available online (though other great stuff is, so be sure to visit the link) unless you're a subscriber. So subscribe already!

*****

Stuff we're reading and about which I'll write more soon:

Chocolate Unwrapped: The Surprising Health Benefits of America's Favorite Passion (thanks, Lissa)

The Omnivore's Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals(thanks, Maria)

The City of Emberseries.

*****

I have a new virtual coffee cup up there. Do you like it?

*****

My time is up.

How could you not love this pope?

“'Will you also go away?' This unsettling provocation resounds in our hearts and awaits a response from each one of us. Jesus in fact is not contented by a merely superficial or formal belonging, an initial and enthusiastic adhesion is not enough for Him. On the contrary, we must take part in 'his thinking and his will' throughout our entire life,” the Holy Father said.

Read the whole story here.

Poetry Friday: Once Again I Fail to Read an Important Novel

I love this poem.
I don't even have to tell you why, do I?
It speaks for itself.




Once Again I Fail to Read an Important Novel
by George Bilgere

Instead, we sit together beside the fountain,
the important novel and I.

We are having coffee together
in that quiet first hour of the morning,
respecting each other's silences
in the shadow of an important old building
in this small but significant European city.

All the characters can relax.
I'm giving them the day off.
....

(Read the entire poem here.)

And now, I'm off to spend my entire day avoiding important novels.

Kyle at The Boy Reader is hosting Poetry Friday.

I'm Trilocating

Certainly not due to saintliness on my part, but rather due to the miracle of internet interaction.

In addition to my own blog, I'm at Donna-Marie Cooper O'Boyle's View from the Domestic Church today, sharing an old story that I like to revisit at this time every year: School Supplies, Serendipity, Ice Cream and Tears. It's a story about what is at the heart of our homeschool: our family and our faith.

And, I'm pondering thoughtful questions from the always thoughtful snoring scholar, Sarah Reinhard, over at Just Another Day of Catholic Pondering.

St. Bernard of Clairvaux

It's his day, and these are his words:

Love is sufficient of itself, it gives pleasure by itself and because of itself. It is its own merit, its own reward. Love looks for no cause outside itself, no effect beyond itself. Its profit lies in its practice. I love because I love, I love that I may love. Love is a great thing so long as it continually returns to its fountainhead, flows back to its source, always drawing from there the water which constantly replenishes it. Of all the movements, sensations and feelings of the soul, love is the only one in which the creature can respond to the Creator and make some sort of similar return however unequal though it be. For when God loves, all he desires is to be loved in return; the sole purpose of his love is to be loved, in the knowledge that those who love him are made happy by their love of him.

*****
In dangers, in doubts, in difficulties, think of Mary, call upon Mary. Let not her name depart from your lips, never suffer it to leave your heart. And that you may more surely obtain the assistance of her prayer, neglect not to walk in her footsteps. With her for guide, you shall never go astray; while invoking her, you shall never lose heart; so long as she is in your mind, you are safe from deception; while she holds your hand, you cannot fall; under her protection you have nothing to fear; if she walks before you, you shall not grow weary; if she shows you favor, you shall reach the goal.

One more prayer request

I said I'm usually quiet about the personal prayer requests, but tonight, I'm going to ask for prayers for one of our godsons, a toddler who is in the hospital due to dehydration after a nasty viral bout.

Thanks for your prayers for this sweet boy and his family.

Updated 8/19 to add: He's home! He's running! Huzzah! Thank you so much for your prayers.

Prayers

Sometimes you just don't know what to say.

I'm usually quiet about personal prayer requests and private griefs and difficulties, but I wanted to mention this. Mary Ellen Barrett and her family could use our prayers as they grieve a loss I've not known and can't begin to describe.

I've known Mary Ellen via the internet for a number of years now, and last summer we had the fun of meeting in person. Mary Ellen loves the Rosary and I used her description of a family's "athletic Rosary" in my book. She's a fellow Catholic mom, homeschooler and writer.

And now I just don't know what to say after the heartbreaking loss of their son. Just an expression of deepest sympathy, and a promise of continued prayers.

Here are some links from those who can say it better than I:

from Alice Gunther

from Mary Ellen's friend Chris, regarding donations that can be made in Ryan's name and memory

A Facebook page in Ryan's memory

Ramona Reflects

The other day, Ramona and I talked about what her first confession will be like.

"I picture our souls," she said, "like bright, white balls. Sort of like that light up there," she said, pointing to the globe on the kitchen ceiling. "Only smaller, and without the bugs."

I nodded (and possibly bit my lip to stifle laughter at such a solemn moment, and made a mental note to clean the globe.)

"And, the ball is in here," she continued, putting a hand on her chest, "but I picture sins like an old blanket that covers up the bright light and keeps it from being shiny."

Oh, how I love that girl.

Poetry Friday: Evening

As I write this, it is Thursday night and a delicious, cool breeze is blowing in through the open window as I sit on the couch. We've had lovely, near-crisp nights for August in Nebraska. I hear cidadas buzzing, punctuated by a cricket's chirp, and there are some katydids out there, too, I think -- they're like a little jazz trio. Peaceful and calming. It's as if they're saying, again and again, "All's right with the world, all's right, all's right. All's right with the world, it's cool, it's cool."

There's certainly plenty that's not right with the world, but it's hard to think on it on a night like tonight, when all's right, all's right.

I keep this poem in my kitchen. It's a reminder to me, on evenings like this, and on evenings that aren't one bit like this, that it's all gift. Every second. Every cicada. Every lovely, cool thing.

Evening

by G.K. Chesterton

Here dies another day
During which I have had eyes, ears, hands
And the great world round me;
And with tomorrow begins another.
Why am I allowed two?

Poetry Friday will be hosted this week at A Wrung Sponge.

Yup, we got 'em

Some of these:

And these:

And a little bit of this:

But, tonight, the old tried-and-true summer dessert: homemade snow cones, using our old Pampered Chef ice shaver (thanks, Aunt Kathy, for the gift that keeps on giving.) We froze mango juice today, and it made possibly the best snow cones we've made. For tomorrow, the girls requested frozen root beer for the snow cones.

I do have a feeling, though, that Little Debbie won't be left out in the cold.

Ramona Hints

We were looking at the grocery store ads together yesterday, and as I scribbled a few things on my list, Ramona said (rather wistfully I might add), "I've never had a Swiss Roll."

"Oh?" I said. "Well, they're a lot like Ho-hos."

She sighed. "I've never had a Ho-ho, either."

I stopped scribbling. "You haven't? Well, y'know," I said in my I'm-about-to-teach-you-something voice, "Swiss Rolls and Ho-hos are not nearly as good as homemade chocolate chip cookies. Wouldn't you rather have homemade cookies?"

"I guess," she said.

I went back to my list.

"Still ...." she trailed off, gazing lovingly at the ad.

Nary a Swiss Roll or a Ho-ho in seven years? What kind of a mother am I?

The kind, I think, that will be buying something in a box today.

Meet Me at Faith and Family Live Today

I'm at Faith and Family today, talking about "Dying to My Not So Crafty Self -- Lessons in Tacky Glue" (which could also be subtitled "Confessions of a Mom Who Avoided Glue Guns Until 2005.")

You can find the article here.

And, if you can relate, let me know. I always enjoy hearing from other moms who have dealt with chronic craft fear. The good news is, there's help. You, too, can reach that place wherein you drop phrases like, "So, I was threading the sewing machine the other day," and no one will suspect that you once broke out at the sight of bobbins.

A chatty week

Tomorrow, Pat Gohn will publish an interview (which we recorded last month) at her Among Women podcast site. Pat and I spent quite awhile talking about prayer, relationships with our Blessed Mother, the Rosary, and my book. Join us as we look forward to an upcoming holy day, the Assumption; Pat offers lots of nuggets about that holy day.

The direct link to the podcast is here.

And, some ideas for celebrating the Assumption with the kids are here at Catholic Culture.

*****

Wednesday, the 12th, I'll be on KVSS talking with Bruce and Kris McGregor. Join us at 7 a.m. central time. You can listen online -- just click here.

Just an fyi: KVSS carries loads of great shows -- check out their program guide here.

And, you know how I mention in the book that if a radio station broadcasts the Rosary at times that work for you, that can be a great way to start praying it more regularly? Take a look at some of the times from which you can choose on KVSS:

6 a.m.
The Angelus, The Holy Rosary with Sr. Mary Lucy


9 a.m.
The Holy Rosary for Vocations with Msgr. Peter Dunne


10 p.m.
The Holy Rosary with Msgr. Peter Dunne

He is Transcendent and Immanent

I remember when I first learned about this idea -- that God is both transcendent (or above and beyond us, far beyond our grasp) and immanent (right here with us, next to us, running in and through us.)

As an atheist, I used to examine the concept of God and think that if God is so far beyond us that we can't even grasp what He's all about, what is the point of a "relationship" with Him? Relationships are supposed to be two-way streets, right?

Conversely, if all God amounted to was a spiritually squishy "He's in my heart" kind of feeling, then what sort of objective Supreme Being could He be? Not enough of one for my skeptical soul. If I were going to follow someone for the rest of my life, He had better be worth following. I've got some pretty great friends, but I wouldn't change my entire way of being for them. 

The idea that God is fully and completely both transcendent and immanent finally brought it into focus for me. Grasping His simultaneous Transcendence and Immanence explained more not only about who God is, but about how He works. It explains the sacraments brilliantly ... through material things, God's Transcendence is brought into our world, used for our good and our salvation. His presence is immanent in water and oil, through vows and words and in what used to be bread and wine. He is both with us and beyond us.

And, it answers questions about prayer, too -- for me, it explains the strange way in which we can talk to a Being who is so far beyond our grasp that we can't fully conceive of who or what He is, but at the same time, feel Him right next to us and even within us.

But it also explains another thing about prayer, and that is how we can swing back and forth between those two extremes. The ideal is to have them both come together all the time in contemplative prayer, but most of us don't live with an ideal prayer life every day. Personally, I'm grateful for the times when it all comes together, and I hang on to them for dear life, because much of the time those consolations are all we've got.

But, I'm digressing, as usual. I wanted to mention a homily that a wonderful priest delivered yesterday. He talked about how familiar we can become with God -- we get into habits, we go to daily Mass, we go about our religious business, but soon we realize that we've been forgetting about God's glory and His majesty. We've been so focused on the immanence, the relationship, that we take His transcendence for granted, or we ignore it completely. Father exhorted us, in those times, to remember His glory -- to call on it ... remember Who He is.

This was such a beautiful and timely reminder, because I think anyone who's honest about her prayer life will admit that the pendulum swings. Sometimes I am fully focused on God's majesty and power -- I am overcome with awe and with gratitude (and, sometimes, tears). Other times, I am chatty and chummy with God -- and there's nothing wrong with that, in its way.  If we don't embrace an intimate relationship with God, something may be lacking. I think it all comes together when we're fully focused on both sides of the coin -- basking in the bliss of God's immanence (though the analogy of lover/beloved is much more accurate than any sort of friendship analogy) while simultaneously grasping His Transcendent Glory is, I think,  a little foretaste of heaven.

The problem comes when my familiar chattiness begins to take center stage, when I start thinking that I can call all the shots in this relationship.

It gets sticky and it's time for re-examination when I begin to take this stupendously, generously immanent God for granted, or take Him to task for the things I think He's not doing well enough in my life. Then it's time to step back and think about Who He really is. He's God, remember Karen? His transcendent, inexplicable, powerful, stunning grandeur is capable of calling all the shots in the end, and He knows far better than I what I need.

Think about Who He really is.

When I remember and cling to His Transcendence, and simultaneously ask for and cling to His Immanence, He'll be faithful. He always is.

I'm the one I have to watch out for.

Poetry Friday: The Poem That Took the Place of a Mountain

I've mentioned Wallace Stevens before.

Once, at Sara Lewis Holmes' Read - Write - Believe, I said of him, when comparing and contrasting with Billy Collins:

Billy Collins is like the pal you love and go out with for coffee ... the friend with whom you never have a conflict, because you always know exactly what he means. And he gets you, too, and you love him for that. And then you order more coffee and sigh and think, "If only everything could be this easy."

Wallace Stevens is like your inscrutable uncle, who isn't always kind, and sometimes doesn't seem to want you around, but who's so complex and interesting that you keep having him over. And when you pin him down on something, and whisper to your mother, who's sitting next to you, that now you know why he's like this, he smiles cryptically, and looks away.

Your coffee friend would, of course, be insulted at being analyzed, but your uncle practically begs for it.

(Thanks, Sara, for reminding me awhile back that I said that, and thanks for finding me italicizable.)

I am not trying to be contrary, but contrary to popular (read: my) belief, today's poem by Wallace Stevens isn't of the inscrutable stripe. Atticus stumbled on it last night, and I'd never seen it before. It's amazing. It needs very little comment, so of course I'll comment. I think that anyone who has ever been devastated, overwhelmed changed, gobsmacked, or otherwise affected by a piece of writing, or anyone who has ever struggled to find exactly the right word for the moment, the image, the feeling, or the desire, can understand this poem.


The Poem That Took the Place of a Mountain

There it was, word for word,
The poem that took the place of a mountain.

He breathed its oxygen,
Even when the book lay turned in the dust of his table.

It reminded him how he had needed
A place to go to in his own direction,

(Read the entire poem here.)


Tricia at The Miss Rumphius Effect is hosting Poetry Friday today.

Quote for a Wednesday

"I saw about a peck of counterfeit dollars once. Did I go to the window and throw away all my good dollars? No! Yet you reject Christianity because there are hypocrites, or counterfeit Christians."

~~ William E. Biederwolf

Well, there was a time when I could fully relate to this one. I remember saying to my friend, Jack, years ago that I couldn't possibly become a Christian because when I looked around a church all I saw was a bunch of hypocrites.

Jack shot back, "Well, c'mon in and join us. There's always room for one more."

Have I Ruined My Children?

As I tucked Ramona in last night, she snuggled down under the covers, then said slowly, "I am lying in bed." She paused. "I love my mother."

She glanced over at me, then said, "I am writing this on Twitter."

Quote for a Tuesday

Prayer is the inner bath of love into which the soul plunges itself.

– St. John Vianney

(Thanks, MyCatholic.com.)

Aid to the Church in Need

I was recently contacted by Aid to the Church in Need, an international Catholic charity, and I'm happy to pass their informationon, as they do vital work:

* From their Mission Statement:

Our Mission

"You assure a fundamental service to the human person when he or she is deprived of an inalienable right to religious liberty."
— John Paul II

As an international Catholic charity under the guidance of the Holy Father, Aid to the Church in Need’s mission is to help suffering and persecuted faithful worldwide.

As the voice of the suffering Church, with the help of our ACN family of faithful — hundreds of thousands of concerned and committed Catholics worldwide — we reach out to assist people in need in over 145 countries. Each year, we fulfill more than 5,000 projects through our spiritual and material aid programs. Our shared goal: To help strengthen the Church and keep the Faith alive.

Where there is darkness and despair, we provide light, hope, and a constant sign that the Church is a dynamic, single, universal body in Christ.

* How you can help

* Offering a Mass

* View specific Projects in Need that are in urgent need of funding.

You can also support the organization just by following them on the web and by spreading the word about their mission and the work they do:

• Follow Aid to the Church in Need on Twitter.
• Become a Fan of the charity on Facebook.
• Read their blog at churchinneed.wordpress.com.
• View photos of projects and people on Flickr.
  

The Foundation for Sacred Arts

If you haven't heard about it, or haven't checked out their website, do yourself a favor and take a look:

The Foundation for Sacred Arts

The Holy Father Speaks (quotes on the arts)

John Paul II's Letter to Artists

A call for artists and composers is here. The submission deadline is December, 2009.

Isn't it lovely -- vital, really -- to be reminded that God is the author of beauty? All that is true, all that is good, all that is beautiful originates in and through Him. Artistic expression is not an unecessary "extra" but is an authentic path to God, as all things beautiful point to Him.

Ramona really WILL be the Next Food Network Star

We watched the finale tonight (Huzzah, Melissa! But, we expect to see a show from Jeffrey, too .... ) and afterward, the kids had a snack.

As Ramona sat with the food and drink of her choice -- raw broccoli and chocolate milk -- she suddenly threw her hands up in disgust.

"The show is over, and I just figured out my culinary point of view!"

"What is it?" we all asked.

She waved her hand over the combo before her: "Healthy and Unhealthy!"

I'd better get that application filled out.

There's still time to enter

my friend Donna-Marie's book contest!

Hurry over there now, because she'll be picking a winner on Tuesday, August 4th.

I had the privilege of reading an advance copy of this book and -- as is always the case with Donna's work -- you will find yourself immersed in inspiration, encouragement, and Donna's deep faith in and love for God.

And if you don't win, don't despair. Just go buy the book.

I'm inclined to overlook it due to the excellent vocabulary, Ramona

Betsy: Ramona! Why did you throw that book at me?

Ramona: I didn't throw it ... I just thrust it at your back.

Betsy: Well, you thrust 734 pages at me!

P.S I didn't really overlook it.

What Kind of Blogger Am I?

This summer, I've been a relatively infrequent blogger. According to Google, which organizes my life for me, I'm averaging 4.7 posts a week, but from my perspective, they all feel slapped together. When was the last time I ruminated?

In June and July, rumination took a back seat to a blur of kids' activities, crazed 4-h frenzy, swimming, softball, horseback riding, visits from friends and/or going to visit friends ... and then there was the dishwashing -- because my kids insist on eating repeatedly. Something like six times a day, and that's not counting the popcorn popper.

And when I do have time to ponder lately (I'm switching from "ruminate" to "ponder" because ruminate can have that obsessive "chew the cud" connotation and you know how I feel about cows) I'm usually lying in bed without a computer at my fingertips (because I'm not that addicted) so by the time I get out of the bed and make it to a computer or a notepad, I've forgotten the seven brilliant ideas I had.

But the lack of lengthy, thoughtful posts has me thinking about exactly what kind of lengthy, thoughtful posts I compose when I do have the time to compose them. And it makes me think of all the various kinds of bloggers and the labels they wear, and I start to wonder, "What's my label?"

Am I a homeschooling blogger? A mommy blogger? A book blogger? A Catholic blogger? A political blogger? (A big no on that one, as I define my politics as: I'm Catholic.) Is this an author's blog, or just a blog by someone who happens to write? Is it a poetry blog? Is it the blog of someone who has too much time on her hands and posts things like this little bit of obsessive self-examination?

I guess all I'm really pondering is how much I dislike the labels in the blogging world. But it isn't just the blogging world, is it? It's the world at large. It's everywhere. I generally go blissfully through my life unaware of how others label me, or how they themselves are labeled. But sometimes, certain labels hit me. I was thinking of this the other night when our family watched "The Next Food Network Star."

One of the finalists is a stay-at-home mom of four young children. I love Melissa. She is one sharp mommy and I spotted that from the start. She has loads of cooking talent, and she's smart, adaptable, intuitive and creative. Last week, she recapped her life for them, and talked about having done a number of different things, including being successful and talented in business, but it wasn't enough for her, it didn't feed her soul. Her family and her cooking do feed her soul. One of the judges told her he was seeing her in a whole new way, and I realized it was one of the first times he had looked beyond her "mommy" label. She has been variously dumped into "mommy mayhem" and "harried housewife" categories, and I got really annoyed with the judges every time they said such things. If you happen to be a mom, and you talk quickly, suddenly you're a harried housewife and your life is full of mommy mayhem. Arrgh.

I identified with Melissa, not because I have a shred of cooking talent, but because I've done a lot of different things in my life, too, and it took awhile to figure out what fed my soul. Years ago, when I quit a job in the business world to go back to school, I told my boss that I was thinking of becoming a counselor or psychologist (obviously I didn't go that route, but I don't want to digress, so let's keep moving.) He rolled his eyes at me and said, "What a waste! If you'd said law school, I could see it, but counseling? Sheesh."

He had an idea that a woman with a brain should have a certain kind of life, a certain kind of career, and "the helping careers" just didn't pay enough for people with brains. Of course, I ended up taking a job (stay-at-home mom) that pays even less than counseling, and I'm sure that if I ran into that old boss today, he'd be even more horrified than he was the day he sat across my desk and told me I was making a huge mistake.

My point, if I have one, is this: although I understand the usefulness of labels to help us sort, sift and save time, labels can also be limiting and misleading. That's all. I have no idea what kind of blogger I am, what kind of mom I am, what kind of brain I have, what label I fit, or if it even matters. I suppose I just, since I had the time today, wanted to ruminate a little bit on blogging, labels, Melissa, and the assumptions people make about stay-at-home mommies.

Whew.

It felt good to ruminate.