And now I know why! At Catholic grammar schools, I'm quite sure they have wise nuns like the very entertaining Sister Mary Martha. I read Molly's recommendation on the 4Real message board, clicked over to see what all the fuss was about, and spent a good half hour laughing with the dear Sister. And now, I really must go make breakfast. And check to see if everyone has his scapular...;-)
...for a loveliness fair! Stop by Mary Ellen's and it will be more than the luck of the Irish helping you plan for St. Patrick's Day!
I've written before about the powerful effect Little House can have on childhood. This post expresses some of the same sentiments. But she asks an important question: I have a difficult time understanding where taking care of one's own (extended) family fits with Catholic ideals of generosity and charitable giving. Is giving to one's family being charitable?
I'm no expert in Catholic social thought either, but I definitely consider taking care of own's own family (extended or otherwise) to be our first field of ministry and most obvious place for charity. It can also be more difficult to give to the "cause" chosen for you in your family than it is to give to the cause you choose. Sometimes, the hard thing is the best thing. What say you?
HT:Melanie
Time to clean! Seriously, we're not living in squalor or in chaos, but some sprucing up is certainly in order and this piece is a virtual swift kick in the pants.
There is a moment between "I think we might have a problem" and the diagnosis of cancer that is the loneliest, most painful, darkest moment of all. It is the moment when you get up in the quiet of the dark hours of the morning and gaze at your sleeping baby and wander back to watch your sleeping husband and you beg. "Please, Lord, take this cup. Please!"
I know that moment, Melanie. I wish I could reach across the wine dark sea and just let you cry on my shoulder. I wish I could tell you that you will make it through this time and that your young marriage will grow stronger and sweeter and your child grow ever dearer. And I wish you could see me, whole and healthy, almost exactly seventeen years from my own Lenten despair and Easter diagnosis, just to give you tangible hope. There is an Easter, Melanie. You will arise from your knees in this garden and you will embrace the cross in front of you and you will carry it well.
And we will help you. We will pray and pray and pray. And we will even be here, in those dark hours of the early morning. In our own homes, with our own babies, we are mothers who can certainly stay awake and keep watch with you. When you think you are alone with your fears in the night, you are not. We are with you, calling upon the communion of saints to console you. We are with you and we will be there to celebrate your Easter with you, too.
I'm Elizabeth. I'm a happy wife and the mother of nine children. I grab grace with both hands and write to encourage myself and others to seize and nurture the joy of every day. I blog here with my daughter, Mary Beth, a wholehearted young lady on the brink of adulthood.
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