On Good Friday, Mercy

One of our family’s fairly new Good Friday traditions is to begin the Divine Mercy novena, spending a small part of the sad day of the Lord’s passion looking forward to Mercy Sunday. The feast of Divine Mercy, also known as Mercy Sunday, is the Sunday after Easter every year. The message of Divine Mercy is based on the writings of a Polish nun, Sister Faustina Kowalska, who, in obedience to her spiritual director, wrote a diary recording her revelations about the mercy of God. I will post each day of the novena here.

We are assured that God loves us, no matter how great our sins and that He wants us to trust in His mercy. We beg His mercy, trust in His generous response and know that His mercy flows through us to others.

When I was on bed rest, waiting in complete stillness for Sarah to be born, Karoline was not quite 2 years old. Before bed rest, she was a nursing baby who was dependent upon me for pretty much everything. With the beginning of bed rest, she was a weaning toddler who had to learn a whole new routine. Putting her to sleep was a great challenge. Karoline was used to nursing to sleep right next to me. It fell to my 12-year-old daughter to comfort her to sleep in her own room.

Mary Beth left the bedroom door open and from my bed in another room, I could see her curled up around Karoline. She had a beautiful sung version of the Divine Mercy chaplet playing in the room. The rhythm and repetition soothed my wee one to sleep. The words of the chaplet played on during her entire naptime, every day, seeping into our souls.

Over and over, we heard, “For the sake of His sorrowful passion, have mercy on us and on the whole world.” His mercy was palpable in a home where we knew that birth could come any time and would bring with it a medical emergency. When the time did come, it was the middle of the night. I went into Mary Beth’s room to tell her we were rushing to the hospital and heard the chaplet still playing. Those words echoed in my head that whole tense day, right up to my baby’s emergency premature birth.

Now, that sung chaplet is very much a part of our family's tradition. The message of mercy is a  simple one and children (and the adults in their lives) can call it to mind as readily as ABC:

A — Ask God for His mercy. It is His desire for us to come to Him again and again, confessing and repenting of our sins and asking Him to pour His mercy over our souls in such abundance that it will flow from us to others.

B — Be merciful. When we know God’s mercy, we know what it is to be forgiven and to receive grace. God wants us to be missionaries of that mercy, to forgive others and to shower grace upon them.

C — Completely trust in Jesus. The message of mercy is that the more we trust in Jesus, the more completely we rest in Him and are peacefully confident in His mercy, the more we become channels of that mercy and grace. When we live in God’s mercy, it flows abundantly through us, spilling generously into the lives of the people we touch.

{reposted from the Arlington Catholic Herald}

Good Friday

~~~~~

Jesus was beaten until He bled. And He was given a crown of thorns.

~~~

Jesus was given a heavy cross to carry.

~~~

He carried His very heavy cross up a steep hill.

~~~

He was crucified.

~~~

The Seven Last Words:

1 "Father, forgive them; they do not know what they are doing" (Lk 23:34)

2 "I assure you: this day you will be with Me in paradise" (Lk 23:43)

3 "Woman, there is your Son" (Jn 19:26)

4 "My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?" (Mt 27:46

5 "I am thirsty" (Jn 19:30)

6 "Now it is finished" (Jn 19:30)

7 "Father, into Your hands I commend My spirit" (Lk 23:46)
~~~

  Jesus died.

~~~

He was taken down from the cross and He was wrapped in linen.

~~~

And was placed in a tomb.

~~~

With a stone rolled across it.

And now we wait.

{wooden figures available at Worship Woodworks}

Yarn Along: Where I Break the Rules

I seem to consistently break the one picture and brevity Yarn Along rules. If I didn't, I'd post three or four knitting posts a week. Instead, I save them all up in my head until Wednesday. I love Wednesday. Begging your grace?

I finished Chloe #4, blocked it, put a button on it, and gave it away. Officially, it's the first finished sweater because I still haven't put buttons on the ones for my girls.  This one went to Zoe, which means that as I knit, everyone found every opportunity to say, "Oh, you're working on Zoe's Chloe?" Yep. Very fun. And what a sweet, sweet baby...

I have cast on for yet another Chloe (the 6th I have cast on), this time for a baby not yet born. This one is in Blue Sky Alpacas Multi Cotton. It feels lovely in my hands and is stitching up rather nicely. I'm pleasantly surprised with the cotton. But I still don't want to have to knit everything in cotton.

I've promised myself that I will move beyond Chloes after this sweater. Not sure exactly where I'm going, but I'm going to knit something other than a Chloe. I think even my family is getting bored. Carmie made this adorable vest for Sarah. She's worn it and worn it and worn it since it arrived a few weeks ago. I see the value of vests for toddlers and I know that these could be the workhorses of her wardrobe, so maybe that's the direction I'm going. I just need to figure out which yarn...

Reading? I have stuck to my Lenten resolve, but I have lined up Easter Week reading. Here's my problem: my Lenten reading was on audio; I listened to all of it. But now, I have some books to read. As far as I know one cannot read and knit at the same time. How am I going to find time to knit, to read, and to blog? 

I caved and bought three book-books, despite my promise to myself only to buy books on Kindle this year. At the insistence of every knitter who offered an opinion, I'm going to read two Elizabeth Zimmermann books, simply because it appears to be the thing to do. And then, in hopes of getting my house so together that I create more pockets of time in which to knit, I am going to read Organized Simplicity. {Mary Beth notes that all our "simplicity" books are blue. Could we just paint the house blue and attain peace of simplicity?}

Be sure to stop by and visit Ginny and see what other folks are knitting and reading.

{comments are open to chat about knitting and reading and organizing and such:-)}

Quack if you're grateful

It happens probably every day. Usually a fleeting thought that I push away as it comes. I wonder for a moment if I ever will live in the tidy little cottage of my imagination. The one that sits on three acres, tucked off the beaten path, with lots of flowering trees and a picket fence and an enormous raised bed organic garden. The one that is always tidy. I push the thought away because that house is far. It's far from soccer and dance and the airport and Starbucks. And all my kids don't fit in that house.

So, it's pretty much a silly idea.

I live in suburbia. I can have an iced soy latte in exactly seven minutes after I decide I want it enough to go get it myself. Seventeen minutes if I dispatch a teenaged driver. More importantly, I can be sitting at the pedicatrician's office within ten minutes of discovering a child is sick. And I can be at the airport, kissing hello, within 20 minutes of the phone call from the runway telling me he's landed.

But I don't have flowering trees and a great big garden and quiet. I have neighbors. Lots of them. And not nearly enough nature outside my front door to suit me.

I live in suburbia. There are opportunities abounding for my children.

But I don't have wildlife.

Wait! What's this? "Come quick Mommy! The ducks are back. The ones that were here yesterday and the day before and the day before that! They're eating the bird seed!"

We live no where close to the water.

These ducks are a gift. We sit quietly and watch them. Until suddenly Sarah figures out how to say "Quack" and she talks to them. They don't leave. They talk back.

Oh my goodness, Mama Duck is coming to visit! Right up to me, tiptoeing through the tulips.

Well hello to you too, dear.

I think I might be Beatrix Potter.

Ducks, in my front yard. Fancy that.

I can almost see the picket fence.

We're catching up on a couple of weeks worth of notables in the gratitude journal:

~blooming tulips (Patrick saw them)

~blooming bluebells

~rose bushes and peonies promising May flowers

~sunflower seeds, morning glory seeds, sugar snap pea seeds, spring lettuce on the way

~Nicky reading to me as I knit

~Katie chattering to me as I knit

~homecomings

~holding my boy as tears gather and fall

~Patrick home for just a day to say goodbye to a coach and hold his family close

~watching him reach out and touch an unimaginable grief and help to heal a friend

~Mike home on Monday night. Good night.

~Beatrix and Sarah and hugs so powerful they're tackles

~boys who hit it off (at last) and the nature that united them

~sunshine on my face

~godmothers, godchildren and annual reunions in the mud and majesty

~six meals made on the weekend. now we don't have to be home until dinnertime.

~sweet friend who is tinkering around on my blog, sprinkling happy dust, while I'm off playing in the woods.

~a holy week ahead

I have dirt under my fingernails

and my face is sunburned and my hair is crazy curly with humidity and wind. We've been outdoors for days now and it's very good. But I'm way behind on --ahem--business. Please read this column to which I was supposed to link last week. It's a Lent sort of thing and you only have a few days before Lent is over. Besides, it will make my editor happy.

Who does God Want You to Be?