Your children will see that– in spite of imperfections in their parents– joyful obedience to God is still the standard. That obedience is all the more fruitful when difficult temperaments and real life challenges are involved. Your children will learn that you can’t change someone else. But you can love them.
I'm sharing an old post at Suscipio this morning, the notes from long ago conversations with wise women. Thoughts on love and marriage. Please join me there?
The box arrived on Saturday, in plenty of time before the holiday.
They recognized the handwriting, the now-familiar return address. It was addressed to them and they knew good things were guaranteed inside.
Over and over again, they've received such boxes, always with good things inside.
Because she knows the hearts of children and she meets them where they are.
She loves them well.
This time was no exception. There were heart-shaped cardboard boxes and paints and paintbrushes and all sorts of things to spark creative enthusiasm.
It came addressed to the girls. But the boys know these boxes, too. And they circled in anticipation.
No worries. More than enough in that good box for everyone. Because she knows boys, too.
A morning spent quietly, happily.
Creating beauty.
All while praying for their benefactor.
As she struggles again with every breath.
That good heart keeps beating. He hears the prayers of children.
Pray with us, please.
I find myself:
::praying earnestly
Elizabeth DeHority has been admitted to the hospital with pneumonia. Because she is very immunosuppressed, this is particulary troublesome. Pray with me? I'll keep you updated as I get information. She doesn't have her phone right now, but I expect she will be all wired to the world soon.
::noticing God's glory
It's winter, at least for few days. I'm okay with that unless it kills the already sprouting tulips in my front bed. That would be so sad. I think this is the week to plan my garden. I have no idea how to plan a garden. But I know who to ask...
::listening to
Quiet just now. Much appreciated quiet.
::clothing myself in
Jeans and a Mickey Mouse sweatshirt. The Monday uniform?
::giving thanks for
public school friends who take the time to write letters in favor of the Tebow bill. Even more, I'm grateful that they've taken the time to assure me--despite the ugly noise to the contrary--that we are welcome and they don't see the polarizing divisions being propogated by teacher's unions and PTAs.
::pondering prayerfully
Pray: God, help me to keep my eyes—and my mind—on my own work.
Act: Look at your reading, computer, and television habits. Eliminate those things which don’t truly concern you.
from Small Steps, February 6. And yes, that link will take you to a page that let's you know that Small Steps is out of print. Makes me sad.
::clicking around these links
Hooray for the amazing Joy! Joy Messimer, that is. She's gotten me--and you--all hooked up with Delicious. So, there are live links on the sidebar once again. Joy rocks:-)
::turning the pages of this book
Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World that Can't Stop Talking. I am now halfway through the first chapter. I started this book over two weeks ago. It has been a noisy, noisy fortnight in my house. Lots of unexpected flurry. I am so in need of quiet. Hoping and praying truly that this is the week.
::thinking thoughts as I go about my daily round
These thoughts linger. For quite some time--nearly two years--I have been on a bit of auto-pilot where home education is concerned and I've been more than disenchanted with Catholic homeschool support. The creative, exuberant joy that I'd always known in home education was clouded in my sorrow. In the past couple of weeks, as I have been called to defend almost incessantly the way that we live, I'm falling in love all over again, for the deeply held personal reasons that were the genesis of this life's journey more than two decades ago. I'm grateful beyond words for that grace. It's like spring rain.
::creating by hand
A quilt for Sarah's baby. Which will come first? Quilt or baby? Go with baby--that's a very safe bet. Praying, praying, praying for Sarah.
::learning lessons in
asthma management. Seriously? Is there anything new to learn? Apparently so. My sweet Sarah Annie has given us quite a fright this month. And there, my friends, goes the last of the wood fires in my house. Fortunately that fireplace has all the underpinning to be converted to gas.
::encouraging learning
in the pages of picture books. Katie and Nicky have programs of study based almost solely on the picture books in our home. I hope to share the details of that with you next week. (I know, I said that last week. I'm working on it. Really, I am.)
::carefully cultivating rhythm
Hah! Right now, in this moment, nothing extraordinary is on the books for this week. Perhaps we can settle into that rhythm now?
::keeping house
Mike is working diligently at relocating all the books from our library closet so that the girls can have a "dressing room." We have grand plans for a considerable amount of painting, fabric-ing, repurposing, and renovating. This house is ten years old, but three times the average number of people live here. Does that make it 30 years old? Sort of.
::crafting in the kitchen
It's nearly Lent. Pantry purge and reorganization to happen today. Whole foods restocking to happen later this week. Looking at a wheat-free Eastern Catholic fast. But first, these gooey, yummy, goodies for my honey for tomorrow.
::loving the moments
when I get to sew with beautiful girls. Hilary, Paddy's girlfriend, joined me in the sewing room yesterday. She made herself a scarf. And I think she was pretty pleased with herself. She was also amused that Paddy came in to take her picture. And Mike came in to take her picture. And Mary Beth came in to take her picture. And the little girls used HIlary's phone to take her picture... You know, when the New York Times was here last week, the photographer commented that my children were perfectly at ease in front of the camera. Perhaps that comes with a blogging mom? My family apparently thinks it's totally normal to document with a camera every. thing. we. do.
::living the liturgy
Preparing for Lent. I love Lent. Is that weird?
::planning for the week ahead
Well, I've got well-planned lessons, a meal plan, a chore chart, a fully penciled-in planner, and a prayer commitment. Now, I'm just going to hold on for dear life. {I said that two weeks ago. I had no idea how hard I was going to have to hold on.}
::capturing the images of my days
Scarf fabric for all the girlies in my life. I sort of envisioned a Sunday afternoon sewing-fest. We got started yesterday, but we've barely made a dent in that pile. It's going to be a weeklong adventure instead.
A little Valentine weekend sweetness. Ginny has us thinking about the Ryan Gosling Hey Girl! memes (no links--apparently they got a little risque overnight) and our own very desirable men. Go see the links. So fun.
I know this isn't the weekend yet, but I have so many tabs open that my computer is leaning backwards. So, in an effort to clear the clutter, let me share the week's wanderings with you.
First up, don't miss Ann Voskamp's post on ways to short circuit every married fight from now until forever. Well, I guess I can't speak to every every married fight, but I will tell you that I told my older sons to read carefully. I can't speak for all women, but I do know from my limited personal experience that Ann articulates beautifully what I wish I could say and what I dearly wish men would know: Pull her close. Read it. Print it. Pray it together. Five ways to fight through to a loving marriage: Five things that truly could change your lives.
It's been an interesting couple of weeks. I unexpectedly found myself talking about homeschooling more than I have in a long time and more than I ever have with people who really don't know much about it. It's been good for me, a chance to thoughtfully reflect on what this lifestyle has meant for our family and how grateful I am for the freedom to live and breathe and educate the way we do. Just as the homeschool legislation has sparked interest and conversation, so has the misguided HHS mandate.
I find myself being the woman who is obviously in that 2% minority of Catholics who don't contracept. Oh, so that's what it looks like. Note to self: Stand up straight. Remember lipgloss.
But that 2% number is ridiculously skewed. We're having a rousing discussion of that on Facebook. (If you aren't a FB friend, just send me a request. Then, the link should work.)
There are so many layers to this issue. First, there is the layer of who thought of it and how it oppresses religious liberty and how clearly the bishops have articulated their objections. Then, there is the opportunity to express the personal side of the Church's teaching.
Just as the Tebow Bill has shed a light on homeschooling and given us the opportunity to broaden and deepen understanding, so has the HHS mandate given us the chance to affirm that yes, yes, indeed; the Church speaks loudly and clearly against contraception. The Church does not oppress women. The Church respects women and protects women. Sometimes, it's helpful to pass along a witness from an unlikely source, a writer who is used to expressing himself in clear, quantifiable terms. This piece touches on the nuts and bolts of why the Church has been right on this issue all along. I like the piece; I really do. But it doesn't begin to touch on the nuances of what this lifestyle--and all its joys and all its sacrifices-- do to the heart of a marriage and the soul of a mother. I pray that the current crisis in our country will give us opportunity to bear witness to God's love and providence when we live true openness to life.
Finally, these two newsworthy items--the Tebow bill and the HHS mandate--have me reflecting in a very personal way this afternoon. I think back to the fall of 1991. I had miscarried in November. I was terrified. I'd been warned that chemotherapy would leave me unable to bear children. Despite the fact that our second child had been conceived just seven months after finishing chemotherapy and radiation and was delivered healthy and whole nine months later, I was sure that this third baby, lost so soon, was a harbinger of things to come.
My doctor strongly encouraged contraception, at least for a few months. We had stepped out in faith. We were committed to the teachings of the Church. God had brought us so far, taught us so much throughout our cancer experience. We were not turning back now. A baby was conceived the very next month.
I was sick, super sick, can't-pick-my-head-up sick. My doctor--a new one who is 110% pro life--suggested an early sonogram to rule out twins. I was 16 weeks pregnant. The radiologist saw one baby. He knew it was a boy. And he saw cysts on his brain. They were troubling, the radiologist related, because they could be indicators of Trisomy 18, a rare chromosomal anomoly. He warned us that we might never take our baby home from the hospital. And he shared that some couples choose to abort.
In those days, we didn't have a PC; there was no surfing to research Trisomy 18. Instead, on nights when I taught childbirth classes in an OB's office, I pulled medical textbooks and journals from the shelf and read everything I could. I was so scared we'd lose this baby.
He was born on the Feast of the Guardian Angels, a Sunday that year. His head was undeniably large and my pediatrician had me back to her office every week that fall and winter to measure him. He struggled hard through January and February and a nasty bout of RSV is still with him when he pushes himself to run faster and farther. But run he does. He has no extra chromosomes. Not only did he leave the hospital, he left just 8 hours after he was born.
He grew into a fine young man who has more courage than I can ever hope to have. As the spotlight shines on Patrick these days, and people keep mentioning him in the same breath as Tim Tebow, I am a bit struck by God's protection over my own fragile baby. Life is so precious. And I am ever grateful that God granted us the grace to allow Him to be in charge.
What if it had been Trisomy 18? I can only hope that we would have responded with same grace Rick Santorum has.
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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