My Friend Knows How to Feast!

My friend wrote a book. It's really good. You should buy it.

And that's the end of this blog post.

Ok, ok. Just a little more. I'm sick and really, really tired and want to go to bed five hours ago. But I just can't do it until I sing the praises of Haley and her book. Haley was one of my first friends when we moved to Florida and she's still one of my closest. Such a beautiful soul. A great writer, devout Catholic (a convert, the best kind!), wonderful mama, and all around fun gal. We may or may not have stayed up way too late last night at a ladies night out and I may or may not have had several glasses of wine and I may or may not have called her a name that I can't retype here on this blog. In love. It was all in love.

I really do love Haley.

And her book is awesome. I've learned so much from her friendship about living liturgically and what that really means. This book is a great example. I've also been privy to Haley's cooking when she's had us over for dinner to feast on the rooster that our husband's slaughtered together. Among other, less gruesome, times. She's a good cook. And I don't think she'd be offended by my saying that her husband's even better. They're a pretty terrific team.

So if you'd like a cookbook that has REAL FOOD recipes (most of which are gluten free, yay for me), reflections on living liturgically, and facts about some awesome saints then you should buy her book. It's an ebook that comes to you via email as a PDF and she's selling it for only $4.99 through Thanksgiving (at which time it will go up to $375 so act quickly). And because Haley is super sweet and generous she offered to let me put an affiliate link on ye olde blog and make a few pennies. Gotta finance my July adventure somehow, ya know.

So if you do buy it, buy it through my link at the top of the sidebar and I'll be super grateful. ------>

And this is the real end of this blog post.

Quick Takes: Three Great Days and Some Quotes

-1-

Gratuitous Halloween Recap:

My kids were so dang cute. I wish the jacket belonged to us so I could dress Paul in it all winter. And the side pony, I'm tempted to have it make a weekly appearance.

We hosted a party with a few friends and then ventured to a nearby church from a Trunk or Treat. Hannah was in heaven. She overcame her shyness to say "titt or teat" (wow, I did't realize how bad that would look until I typed it out....) and "daint you" to every warm body holding candy. And although she was majorly pumped by the party and the dressing up and the free candy, nothing could have prepared her for the excitement of passing out candy to the strangers that came to our door. 

For Hannah, the after party was even better than the main event.

-2-

I'm really glad I have another year before I need to hit All Saints Day hard. We didn't do much this year since Hannah's not quite old enough to understand. And I had to work. But this year served as a good wake up call as to how hard I'm going to need to work to help my kids get excited about All Saints Day in the future. Following up a day filled with parties and candy and dressing up with....."We get to go to Mass tonight!" probably isn't going to cut it.

-3-

We did make a small alter to celebrate.

All the importants are represented. Noah and Miriam and saints of the Old Testament. St. Paul, St. Joseph, and Our Lady bring in the New. St. Rose Philippine Duchesne and a collection of boy Saints and holy cards for the early and modern Church. And Sts. Melissa and Doug give it a nice finishing touch.

-4-

Other than our collection of Saints, we spent All Saints Day listening to this song:

Hannah asked for it again and again and I was happy to oblige.

-5-

We failed big time with Al Souls Day yesterday. (I started these on Friday....finishing them on Sunday.) But if everything goes according to plan today we are going to go for a walk and pray in the cemetery. The weather is beautiful and there are several big statues that I know Hannah will love. I'm really looking forward to it.

-6-

Some Hannah quotes:

While reading this beautiful version of Noah's Ark and pointing to what might be an onyx.

H: What's that?

Ted: Well, I'm not exactly sure. It's from Africa. Africa is a different continent. Uh, you don't know what a continent is. It's an animal from a country that is really, really far away.

H: 

Ted:

H: It's pony?

Just go with pony, dad.

While watching me put on my robe.

H: Mommy that's a pretty dress?

Me: It's called a robe.

H: Oh. You're awfully cute.

Me: Awe, thanks Hannah!

H: I want to wear a rose like you.

-7-

Some quotes from Paul.

"mama"

And hearing that word from this boy is likely the sweetest thing I've ever heard. I have pretty stringent criteria for what I consider a first word. Not just babbling. Must be directed toward the person/object. Most be obvious that he's actually referring to person/object. Must say it immediately upon seeing person/object for the first time. Etc.

I waited three days to say for sure. He's not even eight months old so I was very skeptical. But he's saying it. For real. He's saying "mama".

Parenthood is awesome.

Happy Sunday!

Weekend Recap

It's Sunday evening and you know I'm in the mood to write a What I Wore Sunday post. They're probably my favorite. But alas, no picture. I write the WIWS post in my head every Sunday (stop laughing) but rarely get around to actually taking a picture so I can, you know, write the post. We go to 8:30 Mass. And it's 20 minutes away. And we don't wake up early before the kids to get ready. (We also don't shower....) So a before Mass picture is out of the question. And despite all my good intentions, I just cannot stay in my Mass attire for more than 15 seconds when we get home. There's the nursing of the baby and the doing of the dishes that were leftover from breakfast and the hungry toddler and the naptime routine and, well I just don't want to be dressed up for any of it. It's hot. Almost 100 this week. So I strip down to shorts and a t-shirt almost immediately and get to work on all that crap that didn't get the memo that Sunday is supposed to be relaxing.

It's really too bad. I wore my favorite favorite favorite skirt today. And up around my waist with my shirt tucked in for the first time. I felt like I was falling in love with it all over again. And Hannah was the picture of Southern perfection in her hand-me-down smocked dress and giant pink bow. Ted and Paul coincidentally wore matching white polos with gray pants and I soooo wanted to get a picture before he spit up all over himself. But it didn't happen. Just imagine us all looking really awesome. Cause we did.

So no linking up with FLAP today. But, if I mention the kids' behavior in Mass I can still qualify for this link-up. So on to bragging about the two best kids in Mass today. Not sure why. I don't ask questions. But Hannah was wonderful. She tried to sing along with the Gloria, only tried to grab Paul's paci a handful a times, was thankfully unsuccessful in unclipping the back of the carrier Paul was happily sleeping in, and entertained herself for almost the entire Mass by counting to "nen" (skipping five of course).  Paul slept on me in the Beco carrier and woke up at the end of Mass just in time for everyone to tell me how cute he is.

Both kids get A's. Link-up rules met.

Grace even mentioned me in her inaugural post, so I can't not participate. And I admit that when I read my name and realized it was me she was referring to I told Ted, "I have arrived". The sleeveless clothes in Mass discussion has been great. So great that maybe I'll even find the energy to actually reply at some point. In short, my takeaways are this: For the most part, sleeveless in Mass isn't appropriate. There are times when this rule doesn't apply (like when you have a baby strapped on your shoulders anyway). And that it's not a hard, fast rule. Some dresses are definitely modest even if they have no sleeves.

Is it possible that my black and white sense of morality is becoming a shade of gray? Could it possibly be?? On the bigs things, no. Never. Abortion=always wrong. Euthanasia=unacceptable. Wearing sleeveless shirts in Mass=eh, I dunno. Probably not but maybe sometimes?

If you know me at all, you know how hard it is to admit that.

Next up on the ramble train,

We had a great homily from our priest. At least the 60% or so that I heard was good.  He quoted St. Justin Martyr (whose feast was yesterday!) who spoke about the Eucharist in the 2nd century (because today is the Feast of the Body and Blood of Christ!)

This food we call the Eucharist, of which no one is allowed to partake except one who believes that the things we teach are true, and has received the washing for forgiveness of sins and for rebirth, and who lives as Christ handed down to us. For we do not receive these things as common bread or common drink; but as Jesus Christ our Savior being incarnate by God's Word took flesh and blood for our salvation, so also we have been taught that the food consecrated by the Word of prayer which comes from him, from which our flesh and blood are nourished by transformation, is the flesh and blood of that incarnate Jesus.

I had a thought while listening to the quote. Our Church is so rich and blessed by the writings of the early Saints and Doctors of the Church, that if all priests immediately stopped writing original homilies and all theologians suddenly ceased their studies and Catholic speakers stopped speaking and Catholic writers stopped writing, we would still have enough amazing reflections and teachings on our Faith to last us until the end of time. Priests could simply read from the great Saints that have gone before us, especially from the ones who lived in the early days of Christianity, and we would probably never hear a repeated homily. And although I am grateful for the many Christian books and talks that come out all the time, nothing beats going back to the beginning. Nothing beats finding out what the original Christians said about Jesus. Pastor so and so can say all he wants about the Eucharist. What does St. Paul say? What does Justin Martyr say? That's what really matters. It made me once again feel blessed to belong to a Faith whose roots are so deep and members are so wise.

Annnnd because as soon as I finish this post I have to get up and do dishes, I better add a few more unrelated bits of information.

We had a joint birthday party for Ted and our friend Summer today. I'd show you a picture, but oh my I cannot figure out this Mac. It has no Right-Click! How can you save pictures off facebook or correct a misspelled word with no Right-Click?! Do you know how many times I had to re-tyrp the word inaugural because I had no idea how to click on the little red line below my failed attempts? (silver lining: I can now spell inaugural)

A few of Paul's NINE MONTH clothes are too tight. And he rolled over from his stomach to his back. Before his third month birthday. Who does this kid think he is? (imagine cute picture here)

Go read these.

And check out the amazing hair on my friend's new baby.

And pray for this mama and baby.

And have you seen this? So funny. (But say a prayer for that family while you're at it.)

Ok, I'm stalling. Dishes.

[Update. Two fingers on the keypad+clicking the button=Right-Click. I'm a genius for figuring that one out by myself. Pictures successfully saved off facebook.]

Naming Paul

Unlike choosing the name for Hannah, I didn't have any say whatsoever in choosing Paul's name. Ted had it picked out before he even met me. I remember the first time I ever heard it. We were sitting on the edge of the fountain at Missouri State. Our freshman year. Not officially "dating" yet-but definitely in love. Even if we didn't know it yet.

He told me that he wanted to name his first son Paul Joseph. I was relieved that I liked the name because I remember hugging him that evening at the fountain and thinking, "This is the man I'm going to marry."

Paul. 

Ted's maternal grandfather whom he loved so much. Ted grew up right next door to him and Grandpa was like a second father. Smoking in the van while he drove Ted around and telling him not to tell Grandma. Watching baseball together on his tiny kitchen TV and offering Ted a Diet Pepsi every time. He was 6 foot, 6 inches tall and proudly wore the nick-name "Pic". As tall and skinny as a tooth pic.

Ted wanted to name his first son after the grandpa he loved so much. Sadly, Grandpa Paul died a few months before our wedding. Our Paul won't get to meet him until heaven, but I'm positive that he'll still learn to love the great man he's named after.

We started trying to conceive our sweet son just months after Pope Benedict declared it the Year of St. Paul (June 29th 2008-June 29th 2009). As the year drew to a close and we realized how much we would struggle with infertility, I prayed and prayed for my Paul to come before the year came to an end. It wasn't meant to be. And we were meant to welcome Hannah first. But Paul did come eventually. And I hope he will come to love St. Paul and his writings, even though he missed the jubilee by about five years.

Joseph. 

Ted's paternal grandfather was Edmund Joseph. His dad is John Joseph. And Ted is Ted Joseph. Ted was adamant about his son having the middle name Joseph to carry on the tradition. There were a few times I tried to convince Ted to have the first name be Joseph-but it was an argument I knew I could never win. And now I'm glad he stood strong-because I learned after we chose Paul's middle name that it was also the middle name of both my maternal and paternal grandfathers! Thomas Joseph and James Joseph. It was just meant to be.

Paul's Brother.

We haven't forgotten about the sweet twin who we lost so early in pregnancy. We waited to name that soul until after Paul was born-choosing to name him the same gender (although we really have no idea.) I knew I wanted Michael from the very beginning. St. Michael the Archangel is one of my favorites. I love that he is my constant defender and protector. I guess I kind of associated his protection with the prayers we are surely receiving from our sweet baby in heaven. So Michael just seems appropriate for his first name. And for his middle name-well I was really hoping the new pope wouldn't pick something weird so we could name our son after him. The name our Holy Father chose is perfect for our son.

Michael Francis.

We love you both so much.

St. Paul, pray for us.
St. Joseph, pray for us.
St. Michael-the Archangel, pray for us.
St. Francis of Assisi, pray for us.

A friend of mine made this rosary for Paul's Baptism. Deep red beads in honor of Divine Mercy Sunday and a St. Joseph medal attached. It's such a treasure. She is so talented!

Check our her shop-Trendy Traditions.

Happy Feast of St. Nicholas!

St. Nick's Day is one of my favorite holy days. It was always special growing up. St. Nick/Santa put a few presents in our stockings and we opened them before school in the morning. I think that was part of the fun-it was still a normal school day, but we got this extra special treat jammed into an always hectic morning. My mom (I mean St. Nick....) gave us each an ornament every year to hang on the tree. They always went along with whatever we had been doing that year-a girl riding a bike when I learned to ride my bike, a little Brownie when I started Girl Scouts. I have some of them hanging on our tree now and each one brings a wonderful memory to mind.

Ted and I are continuing the St. Nicholas Day tradition with Hannah, who awoke to a little something special in her stocking (but not her ornament, because I forgot to get it in time. I do plan to reenact the feast day on some random day when her ornament comes in the mail. Because I'm cool like that.) 

The Little People nativity set. I bought it cheap last year and have been so anxious to give it to her.

Bubbles. They're actually the bubbles she already had, I just re-filled the soap because it's been empty for a month.

She's in love with her stocking. Ted's sister Kate made all of our stockings and they just arrived. Even though they all look pretty similar, Hannah instantly remembered which one was hers. She carries it around the house and tried to put it on her feet.

Happy Feast of St. Nicholas!

I Get it Now!

I have been somewhat anti-Valentine's Day for most of my dating life. When I was a freshman in college (and not yet dating Ted) I protested the fact that people are celebrating a "Saint's feast day" with such materialism! Kind of like everyone uses Saint Patrick's feast day to get drunk. I walked around telling everyone "Happy Feast of Saints Cyril and Methodius!" and, quite shockingly, didn't get the kind of reaction I had hoped for.

When Ted and I had our first Valentine's Day a year later, we decided not to celebrate.  After all, we knew we loved each other. We said it all the time. And we spent lots of time together-going out to eat, taking walks around campus, attempting to play tennis. And he gave me little surprise gifts. And I made him blueberry muffins for no reason. And he gave me cards and wrote letters because "it was the first Tuesday of the week." And one night I got a call from him in the middle of the night telling me to go to the window of my eighth story dorm room. I drug myself out of bed to see that he had spelled out a life-sized  I Love Katie in the freshly fallen snow.

Yes, we were romantic. And we didn't need an overly commercialized feast day of some obscure Saint to prompt us.

We dated for several more years, avoiding Valentine's Day each year. Sometimes there might have been a special dessert-but that was just more of an excuse to have sweets.  When we got engaged, still no Valentine's Day. And as a married couple, the day meant nothing to us.

And even though we are still madly in love, in only a few short years of marriage and one little kiddo later-those long hand-in-hand walks, sweet notes, and just-because cards are getting fewer and farther between. I can't remember the last time I got a "first Tuesday of the week" gift, and I haven't made him a special dessert in ages. And since we're in Florida now-I doubt I'll be getting a romantic message in some freshly fallen snow any time soon.

So, I think I want to change my opinion on Valentine's Day.

(This is a big deal-I don't change my opinions often.)

Of course, I didn't tell HIM that I want to change my opinion-so I will be getting nothing. But that doesn't mean I can't make the day special for him. I have seven hours until he gets home from work-I better get started!

But first thing's first-hacking into his email again so he doesn't know it's coming. :)

Happy Valentine's Day! And Saints Cyril and Methodius while we're at it.

Restless

"Our hearts are restless until they rest in You" -St. Augustine.

Has there ever been a truer phrase uttered from the mouth of a saint? My heart is, indeed, restless.

Ted and I celebrated my birthday yesterday. It's not actually until Tuesday, but his stupid annoying LAST work trip forced us to move the celebration. On our way out to the lake for a swim he turned on the CD player in his truck so that I could hear my birthday present-the Audrey Assad CD! As I listened to the songs while hanging out of the window (his truck doesn't have AC and it was 99 degrees outside!) one struck me in particular. She uses the wise words of St. Augustine and sings, "I am restless until I rest in You."

It hit me. I'm restless. Because I'm not resting in Him.

It's been nearly impossible for me to blog about anything these last two weeks. I have no energy, no motivation, nothing to say. I've started about a half dozen posts only to abandon them to go take a nap or waste time on facebook. As I listened to the words of the song, I thought of a line from The Reed of God (the book I'm reading for Lauren's book study). Houselander writes:

Just as no one can have an ordinary child of flesh and blood without there being a union of flesh and blood first, no one can generate spiritual life without first having a union with the Spirit.

And there you have it. I have such a limited union with the Spirit right now that I am completely incapable of generating any kind of spiritual life, on this blog or otherwise.

I've had nearly two months to rest during my summer off. Two months to rest as I complete my first trimester. Rest that should have been rejuvenating, fulfilling, even spiritual.  But have I rested? No. I've been lazy. I've taken lots of naps. But I haven't rested. I haven't taken the time off to immerse myself in God's rest, in His peace. I've wasted the last two months and now it's over. Tomorrow is my first day back to work. I'm sitting here wondering how I'm going to be able to handle it. How I'm going to find the energy, the motivation, the enthusiasm that my job requires of me. When I should be sitting here with excitement and anticipation about the year to come, all of the kids I'm going to help, and the memories that will be made.

And this is NOT just because I'm tired from pregnancy. There is a fundamental difference between being tired and being lazy. And I'm just lazy. I have no strength to accomplish anything because I haven't asked God for His strength. I have no peace about what I've done during the day because I haven't reflected on His peace. And I have no true rest when I lay my head down at night because my heart as been resting in the things of this world, rather than in Him.

I made a new goal for myself-that I will spend at least a few minutes in prayer every morning and every evening by myself. I know, I know-I'm sure everyone who is reading this is thinking, "What?? You don't PRAY" And the answer is-not really. Not like I should. Ted leads us in prayer every night before bed and I try to follow along. I pray before all of my meals and ask pardon for those in purgatory. And sometimes I even go to daily Mass and stick around just long enough to say a St. Michael prayer. But that's about it. No quiet time with God. No reflecting on the triumphs and sins of the past day. No real prayer.

It would have made sense to start this new time of prayer BEFORE my life became hectic with a 40 hour work week! It would have made sense to get into the habit of morning and evening prayer when I actually had TIME to do it! But I didn't do that. So I'm starting today. Better late than never right?

I'm using the morning and and evening prayers that are included in the Magnificat. This morning's was just perfect, as were the readings for Mass. Psalm 62 says, "In God alone is my soul at rest, my help comes from Him...In God alone be at rest my soul, for my hope comes from Him."

My treasures have been stored up in earth. My rest is the false, deceitful rest of this world.

Lord, help me to find true rest in You. Unite my heart to your Spirit, so that I may generate spiritual life.

A Shared Question and a Shared Desire

I think Mother Teresa is reading my blog. I've read a little more in Come Be My Light since my post earlier this morning and was so completely struck by one line that I read. Mother Teresa had the exact same question I did! When writing to the archbishop (who had not yet approved her new order) she writes "does the good God give these desires and not mean them to come true?" You can tell by the way she words this that she obviously thinks the answer is "of course not". Our good God does not give us desires that He doesn't mean to come true. And although that is a very, very difficult concept to swallow, it filled me with hope.

There are many more days when I consider the fact that God will NOT bless us with children than days that I do. But Mother Teresa seems to be telling me otherwise. She seems to be telling me that God does, in fact, grant our desires. How do I wrestle this out in my mind? I'm not sure. I trust this beautiful and holy saint, but I also know that there are many people with my same desire who DO NOT have children. I'm not sure what to do with this. But for a brief moment, when I read those words, I actually believed that God would give us a baby. It felt wonderful. But it's already fading.

Mother Teresa continues with words that I could have written myself, although not as eloquently and not as beautiful. She writes, "It is now well over one year that they [the desires] came, they have increased with every Holy Mass and Holy Communion. I long, I desire to bring to Him many souls-to make each soul love God with a burning love..." Mother Teresa was referring to the poor souls in the slums of Calcutta. She wanted to bring them God and help them develop a love for Him. I desire the same thing, to bring souls to God. And while I don't think I'm being called to move to India, I do think I'm being called to raise children in a Catholic home and teach them to love the Lord with their whole hearts. I desire to have children so that I can bring them to God, to make them love God with a burning love. And would the good God give me these desires and not mean them to come true?

More To Offer

Remember in a post a few weeks ago I mentioned that I was really getting a lot accomplished in prayer? And that I knew it wouldn't last forever so I needed to take advantage of it? Well, I was right. It didn't last forever. And it's 100% my fault. I've been very neglectful of my holy hours and have let prayer fall to the back burner as we get closer and closer to Palm Sunday. Despite my laziness, however, God has still tried to talk to me.

Thursday night I finally sat down and forced myself to spend some time in prayer. I decided to read a little more of Come Be My Light: The Private Writing of Mother Teresa. This book really is amazing-it paints such a beautiful picture of who Mother Teresa really was. Right now, I'm reading about her strong and clear calling to found a new religious order and the obstacles she faced in making it a reality. The archbishop was very, very slow in granting her permission to found the Missionaries of Charity. You can just see her desire to found this order jumping off of the pages. You can feel her disappointment when she gets yet another letter announcing that she's not yet able to say 'yes' to her call. By this point, I'm getting kind of angry with the archbishop. "Don't you know who you're dealing with!" I want to say. But Mother Teresa is ever patient, giving all of her desires and disappointments completely to Jesus. Using them to unite herself closer to Him.

I went bed with one question on my mind: Why would God call her to found this order and give her the overwhelming desire to work with the poor of Calcutta if He wasn't going allow it to actually happen? (and yes, I know she eventually does get what she desires-but I'm not that far in the book yet.) Why would God give her such a strong calling and desire if it wasn't possible to be fulfilled? As I plopped my head down on my pillow I threw up a question to God. "Why did You allow her to have those desires God? Why did You call her to do something that she didn't have the power to actually do?" The answer came immediately and was crystal clear. "So that she would have more to offer back to Me."

I have often wondered why God gave me the desire for motherhood from such an early age if He wasn't going to bless me with children. I dare say that I've desired children and a large family more than almost any friend I've known throughout my life. Or at least it feels that way. With all my being I truly feel "called" to be a mother. Friends would always make comments about how I would be the first one to have kids and definitely have the most. When a friend of mine (that was married after us) became pregnant, some of our friends said, "wow-I thought you'd be first Kaitlin!" (little did they know we had already been trying for months). My desire for children is strong and real. It consumes me at times. It's been present from as far back as I can possibly remember. And until now, I've never understood why God would allow me to have such a burning desire that may not ever be fulfilled.

Mother Teresa gave her desire to Jesus. She offered her calling completely to Him. And because of this, she gave Him a bigger gift than those who don't have such a strong desire and calling. She had a lot to give back to Him because she had a lot of disappointment. If my desires for children weren't as strong as they are, my offering wouldn't be quite as beautiful. And just as Mother Teresa's desires were fulfilled in her eventual founding of the Missionaries of Charity, I pray that my desires for motherhood will also, one day, be granted.

But until then, I'll just be grateful I have more to offer back to Him.

My First Quick Takes

1. I strongly resisted the urge to ever do a "quick takes" or any other fad blogging post. But today, I couldn't resist. I had the urge to write about, well, 7 quick things that have been happening lately. I couldn't write about 7 quick things without giving Jen the credit for the idea. And on a Friday nonetheless! Her blog really is amazing. You should check it out if you haven't already.

2. I sewed something! Some friends of ours came down from Missouri and stayed with us during our Spring Break. Jessie is a talented "sewist" (I know "sewer" isn't right at least) and helped me make this cute box for our bookshelf. As long as you don't look at the bottom-I did a pretty good job! I really want to make more but I'm nervous I won't be able to do it without her help. I credit my inspiration to Sew and my sister-in-law Kate.

3. This cycle has been amazing! First a painless period, then no headaches from the clomid, then a PERFECT mucus cycle! I have felt some mood swings coming on (which are a side effect of clomid) but I've been able to recognize them coming and avoid a disastrous outburst. I've been telling Ted, "I'm getting really mad at you right now" and "I think I'm going to cry" in the calmest voice possible. I've managed to walk away when I'm mad and he just started praying when I was about to cry. This is MUCH better than the emotional roller coaster and constant headaches last month! Maybe the clomid will actually work....

4. Since my last post about the struggles I dealt with before marrying Ted, I've heard from several friends who are currently going through similar struggles. It seems that the only advice I'm able to give is what I've learned through the St. Ignatius retreat. Seriously, everyone needs to do this. I don't know how I ever made decisions without his help.

5. Ted and I enjoyed the sunny, 70 degree weather out on the lake today. He caught a bunch of bass and crappie that will be our dinner for the next couple of Fridays! I love spending time with him on the water, even though I just sleep and read. There's just something so special about being included in his favorite pastime (if you could even call it a pastime-more like an obsession). I'm thankful he doesn't mind that I don't fish and hope he realizes how much I enjoy just watching him do it.

6. With the retreat I haven't been reading as much as usual. I needed a book for the lake today and grabbed a Christmas gift from my brother-in-law. Come Be My Light: The Private Writing of Mother Teresa. I have had such a strong love for Mother Teresa since I was very little. I remember learning about her death in fourth grade and saving newspaper articles about her because I knew they would be treasures one day (unfortunately I have no idea where they are anymore). I've only read the first 3 chapters of the book, but I already love her more than ever. She was an incredible person, far more amazing than the world ever knew. I can't wait to read the rest!

7. Today is the Feast of St. Joseph! St. Joseph is Ted's patron saint and one of our favorites. I'm learning to relate to St. Joseph a little more since I began carrying our cross of infertility. He never had any children of his own either and was a "foster" parent to our Lord. I'm sure that wasn't the plan he had for himself, but I bet he was grateful for the way things turned out! We've been praying a novena to St. Joseph for the blessing of children and today will be the last day of our novena. Last night I told St. Joe that if we conceived this month we would name the baby after him in thanksgiving for answered prayers. I was kind of joking, but if it works I might feel pretty obligated! This isn't a problem if we have a boy, we've already been planning on using the middle name Joseph as it goes back as a middle name for three generations in Ted's family. But what if we have a girl?? I guess Josephine isn't too bad for a middle name...

Here's the prayer we've been praying. I got it from Jeremiah 29:11.

St. Joseph, you are the chaste and loving spouse of the Virgin Mary, foster father of Jesus, the protector and provider of the Holy Family and of all families. We have complete confidence in your loving care for new life and in your fidelity to the family. We commend our efforts to have a child to your prayers and protection. Intercede for us to God the Father that we might be blessed with the gift of new life. Help us always to defend the gift of human life that it may grow to the abundance of eternal life promised and bestowed on us by Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen.

The Sacrifice of Mary and Joseph

I thought I'd share another reflection I had from the Lenten/St. Ignatius retreat. I don't know how theologically sound it is, but I've never claimed to be a theologian. (Deacon Jason, if you're reading this-feel free to correct me :)

The first part of the retreat called for reflection on ourselves and our sinfulness. The second part is asking us to reflect more on the life of Christ. St. Ignatius is leading us through a series of reflections and meditations on the different milestones in Christ's life. He ends each instruction with the words, "Reflect upon this to draw some fruit from each of these details." After a couple of dry reflections, I was getting kind of angry with him. He made "drawing fruit" sound so easy! I think I even said in my head, "I'm not getting any fruit here St. Ignatius!"

Then one meditation really hit me. It was on the birth of our Lord in Bethlehem. I was supposed to do this reflection on Thursday, which was cycle day 1, and that's what caused the major meltdown. By Saturday, I was ready to do it. I read through the Nativity story (in Luke of course) and pictured myself as a "little unworthy slave" attending to Mary during and after the birth of Christ. I found myself observing the beautiful sacrifices that Mary and Joseph endured for their Son. It hit me that Mary and Joseph (and especially Mary) are the two people that have sacrificed and suffered more for Christ than any other human beings on the face of the earth. Not that others haven't laid down their lives for him, many are still doing so, but Mary and Joseph sacrificed for him in the flesh. Without the initial sacrifices of Mary and Joseph, there would be no Christian today to even have the ability to lay down their life for Christ. They offered up so much pain and suffering for this tiny, very human, little baby. No one on earth will ever be able to offer that much to Christ, as his earthly body is no longer with us. (except in the Eucharist of course!)

That wasn't the "fruit" though. That was just a realization. It then occurred to me, as I continued to watch this unfold as a "little slave", that at the time of their sacrifices and suffering, Mary and Joseph had NO IDEA what kind of sacrifice their Son would return to them. They gave him absolutely everything they had, but he gave them back so much more. They sacrificed and suffered to bring him into this world, but he gave his very life so that they could have eternal life when they left it. Not to diminish the sacrifice of Jesus' mom and dad, but it paled in comparison to the sacrifice of their Son for them! They sacrificed more than any other human ever did or ever can, yet it's nowhere near the level of sacrifice that Jesus offered to us on the cross.

And now for the "fruit". My sacrifice and suffering from not being able to have children is so small in comparison to the sacrifices of Mary and Joseph. Even if I offered EVERY SINGLE tear and heartache to our Lord (which, I assure you, I don't) it would never equal the level of sacrifice that Jesus' parents made for him. And since even their beautiful sacrifice wasn't equal to the sacrifice he made for them, how could I ever expect mine to be?

Even I spent the rest of my life barren and miserable, offering all of my sorrow to Jesus, I would still not be able to measure up to his sacrifice. I should be GRATEFUL for the sorrow that comes with infertility because it brings me one tiny step closer to offering back to Jesus what he offered for me on the cross. (I said it-grateful! I know it with my head, I don't think I feel it in my heart yet.) And that realization was some "fruit" worth chewing on.

My New Friend Luke

Very few times in my life have I heard God's voice clearly and distinctly telling me what to do or where to go. At the moment, I can actually only remember one such time. [If you're curious, I was on a retreat and in the middle of spending an hour of prayer in Adoration. I was trying to stay focused on Jesus and keep my eyes on the Eucharist but, as always, I was having trouble. I complained in my prayer, "God I can't keep my eyes on you! I can't just watch you for an entire hour!" And I clearly and plainly 'heard' him reply, "If I were a television you would keep your eyes on me for an hour." Point taken.] But usually God's voice comes to me through the words of my friends, a passage in scripture, or the quiet, gentle nudgings of everyday life. That is how I came to know my new friend Luke.

1. It seems that the during the last few weeks the majority of readings from the gospel at daily Mass have been from the Gospel of Luke, or at least during the daily Masses that I've managed to get myself to. I've found myself smiling when I look up a bible passage for a blog posting and discover that it's from Luke. Also, for an extended retreat that I'm participating in at my church, I was instructed to read an account of Philip in the Acts of the Apostles. I read the account and an explanation in my Navarre Bible. Luke is the author of Acts, so I ended up reading a lot about Luke when I was supposed to be reading about Philip.

2. Ted and I have been talking about baby names. That's nothing new-we've been talking about baby names since we met. We decided upon a boy name and a girl name within the first few months of dating. We've moved on to discussing names we like for our third child, fourth child, fifth child, etc. Maybe this isn't healthy, seeing as how there are no foreseeable babies in our future, but we can't help it. And it's fun. A few weeks ago I mentioned the name Luke. Ted liked it-so did I. It has stuck with me longer than most names.

3. The combination of the two seemingly insignificant events left me with Luke on the brain. Last night, during my hour of prayer for the extended retreat, I stuck an extra book mark into my bible to get it out of my way. At the end of the hour, I remembered the book mark and decided to check to see where it ended up, always hoping to come across a passage that really speaks to me. Where did I find it? You guessed it. Luke. And not just anywhere in Luke, but the very first page. I'm getting the hint that God wants me to get to know this saint and his gospel.

Knowing that I should get to know Luke isn't enough for me though. I immediately started analyzing the situation to determine WHY I needed to get to know Luke. My first thought was: we're pregnant, it's a boy, and we're going to name him Luke. That one didn't last long because we already have a boy name and it isn't Luke. (Twin boys perhaps...."Beggars can't be choosers," Ted said.)

I then remembered that Luke is the patron saint of doctors. We've been blessed with a wonderful (even saintly) doctor and we probably don't pray for him as often as we should. God sent me Luke to remind me to pray for our doctor. Alright, we'll add him to our nightly litany!

But, as with so many other things in my life, it took my sweet husband to bring it all to light. On the way home from Mass yesterday we were discussing the gospel (which was, of course, from Luke!) and I told him about my increasingly strong devotion to Luke and the book mark in the bible incident. "Isn't Luke the gospel that tells the most about Mary?" he asked. Of course!! How could I have forgotten? Most of the stories from Mary's life are told in the Gospel of Luke. I had a flash back to a youth group meeting from my sophomore year of high school during which Fr. Mark said, "If you want to know Mary, start with Luke." That is my goal isn't it? To know Mary and become more like her. Thanks Ted! I think I'll start with Luke!

And it doesn't end there. Last night I started from the beginning and discovered that Luke's gospel is the only one of the four that relates the story of Zechariah and Elizabeth! Elizabeth is the mother of John the Baptist and Mary's sister. She was barren for many, many years until God blessed her with John. If it wasn't for Luke, we would never have known about the miraculous conception of John the Baptist or have Elizabeth as an example of woman struggling with infertility. Just another reason why I love Luke!

I'm so excited to begin Lent with the Gospel of Luke. I also hope with all my heart that God will someday bless us with a (second) son who we can name after this wonderful saint. But even if this never happens, I'm grateful that God has shown me a clear way to get to know my Blessed Mother more fully and given me a new friend in the process!

St. Luke, pray for us!

Ora Pro Nobis

"What a cloud of innumerable witnesses surround us! So then, let us rid ourselves of everything that gets in the way, and of the sin which holds on to us so tightly, and let us run with determination the race that lies before us. Let us keep our eyes fixed on Jesus, on whom our faith depends from beginning to end." (Hebrews 12:1-2)

Saints are one of my favorite aspects of the Catholic Church. We have thousands upon thousands of holy souls surrounding the throne of heaven praying for us and interceding for us-who are we to deserve this immense blessing? Some people may not understand the benefit of the Saints and some may even feel that they detract from our relationship with Jesus, but I think the previous bible passage says otherwise. The Saints are our friends that left the earth before we got a chance to meet them. Some were married, some were priests, sisters, or bishops, and some were even children. And many, many of them died tragic and brutal deaths for refusing to take their eyes off Jesus. They lived lives of great virtue, courage, and faith. And just like we honor and look up great Americans like Martin Luther King Jr. and Abraham Lincoln for their contribution to our country, we honor and look up to the Saints for their contribution to world.

The Church has a very specific process for proclaiming someone a Saint. We have "Patron Saints" for particular needs, countries, types of people, etc. If a Saint was involved in a certain ministry during their life (St. Gerard, for example, is known for his help of pregnant women in need) the Church will present this Saint to the faithful as someone to seek prayers from for a particular intention (such as a health pregnancy). We do the same thing when we "talk" to loved ones who have gone before us and ask them to help us through our day. A stay-at-home mom at her wit's end may offer up this request to her own mother who is now in heaven, "Mom-how did you do it? Just help me get through this day!" or if your son or husband is going out hunting you might ask your deceased grandpa (who loved to hunt) to keep him safe. I truly believe that death is not a barrier to meaningful interaction between those in heaven and on earth. We ask our friends on earth to pray for our intentions, why not also ask our friends in heaven to do the same. They're closer to Jesus than our earthly friends will ever be (this side of heaven of course). And Mary was closer to Jesus while on earth than any human being ever! He lived inside of her and nursed at her breast! She was there as He died on the cross and held Him in her arms before He was placed in the tomb. Surely Jesus will listen to the prayers of His mother-we need only ask! (I think I just understood, through my own explanation, why Mary is called the Queen of All Saints!)

Kimberly Hahn (a convert and wonderful speaker and writer) described the Saints in this way (and I probably won't due this justice): It's like we're all in a GIANT arena running a race of utmost importance. We're running "with determination" to Jesus and our prize is heaven. Surrounding us in the stands are all of the men and women who have gone before us and received their prize, our "cloud of innumerable witnesses" who kept their "eyes fixed on Jesus" while they walked on the earth. And they're cheering us on and encouraging us to keep going. And when we want to give up and when we feel overwhelmed, we need only look up at the stands and listen to the heavenly roar of those praying for us to find a path that can "rid ourselves of everything that gets in the way" of keeping "our eyes fixed on Jesus". Praise God for these holy cheerleaders!

I want to share the litany that Ted and I pray nightly for the blessing of a child and for our other intentions. If you don't already, I encourage you to find a few "cheerleaders" of your own to help you in your race towards Jesus.

Sts. Joachim and Anne (Mary's parents-Anne is Patron Saint of Christian mothers and women in labor)
Sts. Zechariah and Elizabeth (Parents of St. John the Baptist, barren for many years before conceiving St. John. Luke 1:5-25)
Bl. Louis and Zelie (Parents of St. Therese-we really like Saints who had lots of kids!)
Sts. Sarah and Abraham (Sarah was barren and eventually blessed with Isaac. Genesis 16-17)
St. Peter (Given the keys to the kingdom-he MUST have some praying power! Matthew 6:19)
St. Paul (Ted's grandpa's name and writer of most of my favorite books in the Bible)
St. Andrew (Someone told us he was known for helping infertile couples, and he's a fisherman)
St. Padre Pio (Awesome Saint who was more recently canonized)
Bl. Mother Teresa (Almost a Saint! She spent so much time helping children without parents. I feel like I really know her, I've loved her since I was in second grade (she died when I was in fourth). I am so grateful that she walked on the planet during my lifetime.)
Terri Schiavo (Not yet a Saint but probably in heaven. We ask for her intercession in the fight against euthanasia and the culture of death.)
St. Philomena (Patron Saint of those who can't get pregnant! Thanks Sarah!)
St. Ulrich (Also known for helping women get pregnant! Thanks J.B.)
St. Gemma (Beautiful, lesser known Saint who I really like)
St. Gianna (One of my favorites. She died because she refused to abort her child-incredible. And her face reminds me of my Grandma Rose.)
St. Gerard (Patron Saint of pregnant women)
St. Catherine of Sienna (The Saint who I've chosen as my Patron-there's not a St. Kaitlin...yet;)
St. Martin of Tours (Ted's Confirmation Saint)
St. Rose of Lima (My Confirmation Saint and Grandma's name)
St. Therese the Little Flower (A favorite of mine-her writings are so inspired and so simple)
St. Teresa of Avila (Another favorite-she's a reformed sinner so I can relate)
St. Theresa Benedicta (A Jewish convert who died in an Auschwitz concentration camp-her feast day is me and Ted's anniversary-August 9th)
St. Joseph (Jesus' earthly dad, Patron Saint of fathers and Christian families, Ted's middle name)
St. Joseph Cupertino (Patron Saint of students-not me anymore :) just Ted)
Our Lady of Lourdes (Appeared to St. Bernadette in Lourdes, France. Water from the groto-which we have!-is said to have played a role in many miraculous healings.)
Our Lady of Perpetual Help (One of many titles for Mary-and we definitely want her help!)

I'll end this ridiculously long post with a link to a song that I read about on Conversion Diary. I really like Matt Mahar-an awesome Catholic artist! The only you-tube version I could find it in Spanish-just the text, not the audio. Enjoy! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NG75daBWPdQ

All you holy men and women, Ora Pro Nobis (Pray for us!)

Oh, and Geaux Saints! Beat dem Colts!