Wedding Day: Lord, Hear Our Prayer

 

 

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Twenty-five years ago today, a new life began. It grew from the love of a brand-new marriage. Nine months later, on September 29, 1988, a son was born. My firstborn. The baby who made me Mama, who made us family.

Today, that boy--now grown to a man--will take a wife. In many ways, he's grown up here in this space and in the pages of books and newspapers. We've stumbled along together, he and I, learning as we go, and sharing those lessons with all of you.

I'm at a loss for words. I have been all month.

I tend to take a while to process big things and this is a very big thing. We head to church this morning to meet both the same priest who baptized Michael and our dear pastor, who will concelebrate the marriage. My heart is full--very, very full. I'm eager to encircle Kristin, to call her daughter-in-love, and to fully celebrate this new beginning. But as I said, I'm at a loss for words. So, I beg your prayers for us this weekend and for Michael and Kristin as they begin their new life together.  And I leave you with Mike's words from last night, when he welcomed family and friends after the rehearsal.

 

I thought a fair-amount about what I might be able to share this evening….something that would capture what Elizabeth and I are feeling this weekend.  Coupled with that, I also considered the amount of time I would be allowed to speak before my sons would begin shouting me down.  I think I have about 30-seconds left.

Mark and Terumi, distinguished grandparents, family and friends, thank you for accepting our invitation tonight and for sharing this evening with us.  Elizabeth and I are very grateful.

In spite of what anyone might tell you (and by anyone I suppose I mean our current culture), this life is about relationships.

What we share and what others are willing to share with us.

What we do for others and what we allow others to do for us.

About half of this room is filled with people who have supported Elizabeth and me for at least 30 years and in many cases, closer to 50.  They were there to help us through school, help us through cancer, to help us change the diapers of nine children and help to drive to so many soccer games and ballet rehearsals that it would be impossible to count.
I know the other half of the room is filled with those who have supported Mark and Terumi in a similar fashion.  And while I may not know the specifics of their actions, I do know something about life…..and this outward demonstration, their attendance here tonight, is life.
As I look around this room tonight, each and every person can claim a special relationship with Kristin and Michael.  Grandparents, aunts and uncles, sisters and brothers, and many friends.  As you both consider the weekend ahead, I hope you will take time to reflect on the love and the support which surrounds you tonight, which will surround you tomorrow and which will surround you for years to come.
Kristin and Michael, as you have learned, marriage in the Catholic Church is a grace-filled sacrament.   As the early 20th century Belgian Priest and theologian, Jacques Leclercq wrote:

The sacrament of marriage is the imprint of God on the souls of the married couple, not merely in order to deify their life in general, but in order to deify their union . . . The sacrament of marriage is thus not merely a religious act sanctifying a human one, it is a seed sown in the soul and bearing fruit through the whole of married life, giving life to all its acts and sentiments . . . it is a predisposition to holiness placed in their souls by God on the day of their wedding.

As you celebrate the powerful and grace-filled sacrament of marriage and enjoy the events of this weekend,  I pray that you will find time to reflect upon the many blessings God has bestowed upon you.  Particularly the blessings of your family and your friends who have gathered with you tonight.

May God grant you many years and may He bless your marriage forever.  We love you both.

 

video credit: Mary Beth Foss, with help from Kristin's sister, Cherise.

Christmas Prayers

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Gospel
When the angels went away from them to heaven,
the shepherds said to one another,
"Let us go, then, to Bethlehem
to see this thing that has taken place,
which the Lord has made known to us."
So they went in haste and found Mary and Joseph,
and the infant lying in the manger.
When they saw this,
they made known the message
that had been told them about this child.
All who heard it were amazed
by what had been told them by the shepherds.
And Mary kept all these things,
reflecting on them in her heart.
Then the shepherds returned,
glorifying and praising God
for all they had heard and seen,
just as it had been told to them.
Think
Never be hurried by anything whatever--nothing can be more pressing than the necessity for your peace before God. You will help others more by the peace and tranquility of your heart than by any eagerness or care you can bestow on them.
~St. Elizabeth Ann Seton
Pray
St. Elizabeth Ann Seton,  you know well what it was like to prepare to celebrate Christmas in house full of children.  Please pray that I will be reminded all day long, despite my most pressing duties, that it is the Peace of Christ we will welcome tonight. Pray that the Baby might bring tranquliity to my heart and that I bring this holy peace to everyone I meet tonight and tomorrow.
Act
Take a few minutes sometime today or tonight to be still in front of the creche. Open your heart to the peace of Christ and just sit, admiring the baby.
How can we pray for you this week?

needle & thREAD

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Good morning! I don't have much to show in the sewing department today. This week's sewing is mostly under wraps. And since I hit a sewing sweet spot and just kept chugging along, I don't really have many pictures to show you after Christmas. Maybe I'll snap a few of recipients. Sometimes, as I cut specially chosen (and not inexpensive) fabric or dream up just the right design for something, I wonder if they'll "get it." I wonder if they will know how much I value the gift I'm giving, how much thought and care and love gets stitched into it or cooked into it or baked into it. Increasingly, I'm becoming aware that many people consider handmade to be of lesser value. And they consider the people behind handmade to be of little or no value at all. I love my handmade gifts and the people to whom I give them, but do the gifts lose their value if the recipient doesn't recognize the worth?

We are rapidly approaching Wedding Day here, too, and my mind is awhirl--pretty much 24-7--with details, details, details. I have not done a whole lot of reading. One thing I have noticed in the past few weeks, though, has definitely prompted me to make a reading list for the future. It seems that the more I post about intentional mothering or about homemaking arts, the more hate mail I generate. And I mean really angry mail from women who are disparaging and disgusted with mothers at home. They paint a picture of "kept women" who are leeches on society. It takes every ounce of self restraint not to respond.

This new mail is a curious thing to me. Firstly, I have collected a paycheck of some sort my entire adult life (and plenty of my teenaged life, too). The only time I didn't do some sort of paid work was when I took "time off" for chemotherapy and radiation. So, I'm not sure how I became a "them" in the us vs. them mommy wars. But my deeper ponderings have everything to do with the misconceptions of mothers at home, particularly those who try to reclaim lost homemaking arts of an era long gone.

There are a couple of articles in this years' issues of Taproot, written by Shannon Hayes, author of Radical Homemakers. She speaks to the misconception and affirms the value of women who are actually working very hard to tread lightly on the economy and on social resources, not by dabbling in needlework and berry jam, but by integrating every aspect of human experience into the tapestry of home. I re-read them last night.

We live in bizarre times, victims of a post-industrial era that, for the sake of efficiency, has segmented our culture into factions--some produce food, some produce the education, some produce goods and services. This segmentation fails to acknowledge our need to be human, to engage in daily work that feeds our minds and our bodies and reestablishes our oneness with the earth. Perhaps more carrots can be produced, more books can be written, more art can be created, more kids can be schooled, more numbers can be crunched and more albums can be produced if one person plants carrots and someone else writes the books, and someone else paints pictures, and someone else teaches our kids, and someone else crunches the numbers and someone else plants the music and someone else cooks the carrots. But none of us is experiencing what it means to be fully human, where our unique minds and bodies work in harmony with our spirits and nature to create and provide for our wellbeing.

I also read a short biography yesterday. (Or was it the day before? I forget. So busy sitting around eating Christmas bons-bons and all.) It is the story of an Eastern Orthodox saint who is a beautiful example of homemaking and a life of service. Just beautiful. So, there you go. I'm reading across the spectrum and finding women who find peace (and create it, too), by embracing home. And that's about all I can say about that, because, you know, it's days before Christmas and the week before our family's first wedding and there are just so many bon-bons to which to attend.

What are you sewing and reading this week? How does the work of your hands benefit your family? Your neighbor? Do you find that people appreciate your handmade gifts?  Are you working on Christmas presents? Racing to the finish with something special? Do tell.  

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needle and thREAD

O, Wisdom

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We put the first block in our O, Antiphon house the other day and Nick argued vehemently.

"No, it's not time yet! You have the date wrong. Wait. Stop." 

I was surprised. Ever since he was aware of time, Nicky has been obsessed with time. Most people took a screen shot of 12:12 on 12/12/12. Nick lined up every screen in the house and took as many shots as he could in that minute. 

When I explained the date and showed him "proof" that it was, indeed, time to begin the O Antiphons, he slumped into the couch. "It's going too fast..."

"What's going too fast? Advent? It's super short this year; I hear you."

"No. My childhood. It's going too fast."

Sweet boy. December is always a big month for him. His name day, his birthday, Christmas--all rolled into one sweet, happy month. This year, his sweet seems heavily spiced with melancholy. He knows change is afoot. In the space of two short winter weeks, two big brothers will leave the house. Nicholas is particularly close to Patrick, simply adores him. And he is Michael's best man. He's trying to put on a brave face, but this boy is sad.

And then there's Sandy Hook. Nick has an Instagram account. He's seen pictures that make him weep. This tragedy is touching him deeply and he can't seem to push it from his thoughts. I think, in many ways, Nicky knows that childhood as he knew it ended on a Friday in December 2012, just a week before his twelfth birthday.

We're watching him, trying to adjust his life as if we could filter it through an Instagram button. A little more light would do some good, no? And let's shade that really sad part so we can't even see it. It's Christmas and your basketball team totally rocks--you, Stephen, Christian are all together! Just think, you'll have your own room for the first time ever! The wedding reception is a buffet--you'll love dinner!

And Nick, those children?

They're in heaven.