Divine Mercy Novena Day 9

"Today bring to Me The Souls Who Have Become Lukewarm and immerse them in the abyss of My mercy. These souls wound My Heart most painfully. My soul suffered the most dreadful loathing in the

Garden

of

Olives

because of lukewarm souls. They were the reason I cried out: 'Father, take this cup away from Me, if it be Your will.' For them the last hope of salvation is to run to My mercy."

Most Compassionate Jesus, You are Compassion Itself. I bring lukewarm souls into the abode of Your Most Compassionate Heart. In this fire of Your pure love let these tepid souls, who, like
corpses, filled You with such deep loathing, be once again set aflame. O Most Compassionate Jesus, exercise the omnipotence of Your mercy and draw them into the very ardor of Your love; and bestow upon them the gift of holy love, for nothing is beyond Your power.

Eternal Father, turn Your merciful gaze upon lukewarm souls who are nonetheless enfolded in the Most Compassionate Heart of Jesus. Father of Mercy, I beg You by the bitter Passion of Your Son and by His three-hour agony on the Cross: let them, too, glorify the abyss of Your mercy. Amen

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Divine Mercy Website

Because Happily Ever After takes a little (or more than a little) thought and effort...

Do make some time to visit Sarah and read the wonderfully inspiring collection of ideas on how to stay in step with our husbands. And take some time to pray and ponder over the scripture she's thoughtfully collected for us there. Isn't it lovely to be married to your best friend?

Little Big Man

Nicholas played his first travel soccer game at 8:00 this morning. It was 35 degrees outside. He's playing on Stephen's team, which is technically two years older than his age group. He begged to do this and he mostly holds his own. But he's still such a little guy. Actually, he's a huge guy, as big as the average nine -year-old and much bigger than Michael was at ten. Nevertheless, he's my baby boy. At halftime, they were up 3-2. Nicky played goalkeeper the second half. They lost 8-4. That's six goals scored on my baby, ladies. I wanted to cry. But I didn't.

Nick got in the car after the game and I tried as hard as I could to channel a good soccer mom--any good soccer mom.

Me: I'm so proud of you, Nick.
Nicky(raising his eyebrows): Why?
Me: Because you didn't cry out there. It was hard and you got discouraged but you didn't cry.
Nicky: Well, tears did get in my eyes, but I didn't let them out.
Me: That's because you're a big man. I think if I'd been in that goal, I would have cried. But you didn't because you are a great, big, brave man.
Nicky: Mom, you might think I'm a big man, but really, in that goal, I was a little boy. It was a huge goal.

It was.

Huge.

Questions and Answers

You all have a lot to say about housekeeping! I appreciate all the questions and have them percolating in my brain. I'll be away most of the weekend--soccer tournaments and ballet recitals will have me driving all over Virginia and Maryland. If you have more questions, leave them in the comments section and I'll try to talk about them in the next few days. Remember, comments are moderated and I'll be away, so you won't see them right away. And we're talking about homemaking...

Morning Connection

The theme for this week's Simply Lovely Fair is "Staying Connected." Sarah asks how we stay connected to our husbands amidst the busyness of everyday life. I bring my husband breakfast in bed every single day. This did not begin as an altruistic gesture or even a conscious effort at connection.   My husband awakens hungry every morning and he tends to be a grumpy hungry person. One big, hungry, grumpy person mixed in with several small hungry grumpy people, cups of orange juice, the morning paper, a dog who needs to go out, and eggs on the stove and well, it wasn't pretty. So, I resolved to take the big guy out of the picture. I got the kids settled with breakfast one morning and took a pretty tray up to my hubby. I sat there in our bedroom and gave him my apparently undivided attention while he ate breakfast. (I was still listening for sounds of chaos from downstairs.) And then, I did it again the next morning and the next and the next. When the baby was born, that became time to nurse and chat. And when she grew old enough to be interested in food, she sat on his lap and ate from his plate. Now, this is her routine and when he's out of town, she won't eat breakfast. The three of us have some time alone together. Sometimes, we just delight in how dear she is. Other times, we discuss important things well over her head. Whatever the case, we connect.

I keep it fairly simple and the menu is usually the same: an English muffin, poached eggs, and a fruit smoothie. Occasionally, I add bacon or sausage. Every once in awhile, they enjoy leftover spaghetti carbonara or muffins from teatime the day before. But mostly, it's the same thing every day. I have the "making" routine down pat and everyone seems happy with the predictability. We begin our day together, in an oasis before the crush of craziness. Sometimes, other children wander in for a morning snuggle after they've eaten and increasingly, Karoline drifts away to play when she has had her fill of food. I remain (often stilling the small voice inside my head ticking off the items on my to-do list). And we begin the day together.