tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-80531632946775528202024-03-04T23:08:38.674-08:00My Apologies“As an apologist I am the reverse of apologetic. So far as a man may be proud of a religion rooted in humility, I am very proud of my religion; I am especially proud of those parts of it that are most commonly called superstition. (GKC)PattyinCThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04286757995048861826noreply@blogger.comBlogger178125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8053163294677552820.post-85379657892742120602013-06-06T00:59:00.000-07:002013-06-06T00:59:14.176-07:00Encouraging Atlas: Refelctions on a mother past her due dateMy due date was this past Tuesday. And it came and went like every other day. Everything here in my home is prepared to meet the arrival of our little son, Samuel Dominic. But my bag isn't quite ready to be thrown in the van. The car seat is still not put together. The base for the car seat isn't even installed yet. This is my sixth full term pregnancy. Aside from the first baby where I was induced at 39 weeks for pre-eclampsia, this is my fifth pregnancy "post-dates". All of my other children were born between 41 and 42 weeks. I expected the pattern to continue, and considering there is no sign on the horizon (zero contractions, zero uncomfortability, no signs of nesting even) that Samuel will come in the next couple of days, I think I will not be disappointed in my assumption. Another one of my babies "will be late."<br />
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I write this today to encourage mothers. Mothers who are waiting to hold in their arms what they've held under their hearts for these last nine months. Especially mothers for whom this may be their first time being "late" to start labor. Peace, my sisters. Your baby, your body, and your God all know exactly when the time is right. It's funny how modern common obstetrical practices look down on anything in this country but an over-medicated, intrusive labor and delivery as witchcraft, that these same "professionals" would be drawn to this tiny little "wheel of fortune" to determine universally our due date, isn't it? Just as we shouldn't trust our fate to an astrological calendar, we shouldn't trust our baby's Birthday to a spinning wheel in the hands of someone who doesn't take the time to consider our baby's growth and development but would see us through the lens of a piece of paper. More importantly the date written up there at the top. You, my sister, are more than a piece of paper, you know that that little life inside of you (which feels bigger and bigger everyday!) is more than a date. I encourage you to find the strength and support you need to allow your body and your baby decide which birth day is the best for the two of you. Too many can crowd and fret their way into this intimate time for you and Baby. Block them out. Find the support you need (luckily for me, I have the best husband in the world to run interference for me from these "Negative Nancies" and a midwife who is willing to let me go the full 42 weeks before talking induction and has been nothing but supportive and encouraging the entire way...) Seek out and cling to a supportive friend, your spouse, a parent, anyone who understands that life never comes in a convenient package, and never goes according to "the plan". We didn't begin our lives according to our own will. We will never be taken out of this world at the moment we plan (unless through the sin of despair) according to our own will. Why should the day of our birth be determined then by anyone other than He who has "numbered our days aright"? Trust, my sister, and rest easy. Your day will come, that beautiful moment in which you see your little child face to face, and it will be a moment worth the wait.<br />
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Here are some ways in which I am preparing, or have prepared in the past for the birth of my child. Maybe you can find comfort and suggestions here on what to do to pass the time. Maybe it will spur you to be more bold in voicing your need for support right now, in your decision to wait it out for that precious child. Whatever the reason, here are some more reflections on that final two week wait which seems the longest and hardest part of the entire pregnancy.<br />
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I fill my home with love. I am blessed to have a home that is already filled for me by 5 of the most beautiful and loving children I've ever met. I seek out and spend time with each of my children, and try to hold them more, to recognize them more, to have quality one on one time with each one of them. This is hard for me to do, as I'm generally more achy with a lot less energy, and I get touched out easily. But if I can find the time to snuggle with my toddler on the couch while reading her favorite book, its a good day. If I can find the time to listen to my 9 year old son explaining to me the marvels of his latest scientific exploration, its a good day. If I can go for a 10 minute walk with my middle son of 7 to hear his thoughts and ponderings on life while exploring the beauty around us, its a good day. At this point I know that quality replaces quantity time, even for this homeschooling, stay at home Mom. I am welcoming to my closest circle of friends, Moms who have been there with newborns (whether late or not), swinging by to drop me a meal, or bring me a cute layette to clothe my newborn in. I give up worrying about the state of my home when they come, I trust in my friends to understand that my body doesn't allow me to examine and clean the floors as well, and that the toys, the clutter, the chaos is also a sign of the countdown currently underway in our home. <br />
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I pray. Insomnia does set in for me at this point in my pregnancy. I lie awake, trusting that I will rest tomorrow, thanks again to my dear husband who works from home and can run "crowd control" as I nap or sleep in. But during these darkest hours, I seek out our Blessed Mother. I pray a Rosary for my upcoming birth. I pray for the grace of patience. I reflect on and fall more in love with the sounds of my slumbering husband. I do not envy his sleep, for I know that he will be strong for me in the morning when I find myself unable to be so. If I feel my little one stirring (which usually in the quiet is easier to feel) I stroke my belly and speak to him. As I feel my body begin to prepare for birth with some effacing contractions (I usually get these for two or three days prior to the start of active labor) I take the time to reflect between each contraction to write a little love letter to my baby whom I know I will soon meet. I have love letters for each one of my children, which will be given to them when they're grown and I'm gone. It's a special time for that heart to heart with my own dear child, as I feel my body begin to prepare to give them everything they need to enter into this world. <br />
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I do take walks. In some ways to encourage labor should the time be right. But also to enjoy the movements and the feelings it creates in my body. Bringing that baby down, by gently walking up and down my driveway, seeing all the beauty of nature, and feeling connected to God's great creation helps me to be strong. It helps me to pass the time. It helps me to capture a feeling of relaxation in the midst of a contraction, which I then bring with me into my labor. It's like a mental rehearsal before the big concert.<br />
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My husband takes time out of his day and takes me for walks around. We're lucky in this instance to have my Dad and a friend here with us to watch the kids so that my husband and I are pretty much free to come and go as we please. But in labors past, we would drop the kids off at friend's houses, sometimes overnight, and just spend a few hours together in quiet companionship. Either we'd go shopping, or walk around some of the more quaint New England towns in this area, or we'd spend a night in. A last chance for romance, with massages and long soaks in the tub, and whatever else a good marriage calls for. A little red wine at this point can't hurt either. A chance for two adults, two soul mates to come together and remember the very reason this child was conceived. And to rejoice in that union once again.<br />
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My sister, I would encourage you, find whatever means will support and encourage you at this time. Nourish yourself, body, mind, and soul and fill yourself with nothing but positive thoughts and love. This time too will pass, focus on the time of advent within yourself. God has a plan for you and for this child, revel in His process. There is nothing wrong with you. You read that too quickly. There is nothing wrong with you. THERE. IS. NOTHING. WRONG. WITH. YOU. You are strong, you are in control, and you call the shots. Your advocacy as Mother begins now, with you deciding what is best for you and for Baby. Even before you begin advocating for him in playgroup or preschool. Even before you begin advocating for him at the Doctor's office or to family members. Even before you begin advocating for him in any other part of his time here on earth, know that its worth the fight to let your body decide when he will make his entrance. I know you're tired. I know you're sore and more than slightly immobile. I know these aches and pains, but I know that in the end they are all worth it. You will too, and it will be beautiful. Trust in the will of God. Trust in your body. Trust in nature to take its course. This is what you were designed to do, what your body was made for. Take this time of waiting and make it into your own intimate journey towards motherhood, towards a new relationship with a precious, unique, individual soul.<br />
PattyinCThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04286757995048861826noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8053163294677552820.post-80990114458937872132013-05-24T21:44:00.000-07:002013-06-06T01:07:29.755-07:00A fight to the finishSo here it is, we're in the final month of pregnancy. Already. I can't believe it! I've got the cradle set up near my bed, the changing table in my room, newborn diapers just waiting to be opened. His coming home layette is laid out ready to be packed in my hospital bag (which I will be packing once my bag has made it back upstairs from the laundry). We're down to once a week visits with the OBGYN's office. Everything still looks great. It's a new office for me, this will be my fourth hospital in six births. A very small, country hospital, but they have everything I need to birth comfortably.<br />
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Historically I've gone 2 weeks late with all of my babies. The one and only exception to that is when I was induced and gave birth to my first-born son at 39 weeks due to pre-eclampsia. Since then I've had 2 natural births at 32 weeks and 2 inductions at 32 weeks. It seems to be the way my body works. I've begun the battle of wills already at my Doctor's office. They were asking me last week at 37 weeks if I wanted to schedule an induction or just wait and see what happens. Seriously. 37 weeks and they're already talking induction. This week, at 38 weeks I was told my blood pressure was "getting high", 100/80, another hint at induction right? My girlfriend admitted to me today that the same office induced her for blood pressure of 100/90. Seriously!!! That's not even out of the normal range! My blood pressure is good for a person who is not pregnant, let alone an overweight woman who is 38 weeks pregnant. <br />
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Here's my hang up: I hate being a squeaky wheel. I like being the person who comes in, labors under the radar, has the big moment upon birth, and then gets out of the hospital and back home as soon as possible. My insurance mandates a 24 hour stay upon giving birth. I try not to allow it to be beyond 24 hours and 10 minutes (and that includes my trip down the elevator to my car!) I'm not now, or never have been a big hospital fan. Especially when it comes to labor and delivery. Hospitals are for sick people, for people in need of care for a problem within their bodies. Labor and delivery is a normal process. It is a natural function that most women can do unmedicated. I'm not a superwoman by any means. But I am a woman. A woman who feels that she can manage the pain through the awesome support system of her husband (we use the Bradley Method of birthing). It's not that I look down on women who like to be hospitalized for their labors. I just don't feel, on average, that hospitals are necessary. And to feel pressured, in anyway, to accept medicine that I know in the bottom of my soul is not necessary, makes me anxious. Of course, I don't know that everything is going to go just fine. I don't have a plan as to how exactly its going to go. I just want my medical team to respect my decisions, my experience, and my feelings as a woman enough to not let me be just another "case of Pitocin" waiting to happen. I don't want to be a number, I don't want to walk in without having a face. I'd rather be ignored than put through the routine medicalized birth. Stick me in a hallway somewhere, let me labor, and I'll call you when you need to come catch. Don't explain to me why you're going to give me Pitocin and then not let me tell you why you're crazy. Don't look at me with that patronizing sneer when I tell you that breastfeeding is a great way to release oxytocin. That's like telling me that your aspartame is better than my cane sugar. Not even close. (Did I mention they are also telling me I have to receive a shot of Pitocin after I deliver to "make sure I don't bleed" too much. I'm sorry, but this is my fourth hospital and I've never had that as "standard procedure". And I'm not a bleeder sir. Especially when you have trained staff to massage my fundus down and you let my baby latch on and feed uninterrupted. There is no need for Pitocin if these steps are taken, because my body will ALREADY BE PRODUCING IT!)<br />
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I guess in this sense, I am a control freak. Not because I have trust issues (I'm sorry, but even if that comes across as such, how would you feel working harder than you ever have in your life and having people pushing needles at you from all sides? A little untrusting yourself I'm sure...) More to the point: I know my body. I've grown this baby within myself for the past nine months, so I'm the closest person on this earth to know his body as well. I know that if I'm left alone I will be the first one to know if something real is actually going wrong. Not only because I know my body, and I know my baby's body, but because I've labored and gone through this process 5 times before. I need to be free to respond to my body during labor. Unhindered by medical "professionals" who are more afraid of not getting me doped up on drugs, or of a potential lawsuit, than that I might actually do just fine without them. I seem ungrateful. I'm not. I truly am not. I understand the value of Nurses, Doctors, and Midwives at birth. I understand their role. What bothers me is that they're so over-inflated in their self importance that they've totally neglected MY role. I want to be in charge, because at the end of the day, this is a paycheck to them. This is the beginning of a whole new life for me. And I know from experience that birth, whether positive or negative, directly affects how mother and child bond. That time builds on a relationship that must last symbiotically for over a year from that day. Nursing, developing both mother and child, going through major milestones. An OB just wants to get you in and out of the hospital without any health (lawsuit) risks. But they forsake and risk the greatest moments of a mother's life. Allowing her, empowering her really, to have the birth she was created for.<br />
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Please pray for me, as I know this is going to be an uphill battle for me. Pray that my husband and I are on the same page as we move forward, that he at least respects my point of view. And that I'm able to get my point across to the OBGYN's office that I do not want medical intervention unless its necessary. And that I will be the one to make that call.PattyinCThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04286757995048861826noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8053163294677552820.post-13969165800668252402013-05-15T09:29:00.001-07:002013-05-15T09:29:56.311-07:0038 weeks and counting down!!!I couldn't sleep last night. Usually I find that the perfect time to get up an blog, but my mind was racing too much for me to write down a coherent thought. Today I'm going in for my 38 week OBGYN appointment. Everything has looked great thus far, my blood pressure has been lingering around 100/60, I've gained the bare minimum for weight (which considering I started out overweight I'm pleased by that), no swelling thus far, I feel great (although I'm tired easily these days:)<br />
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I should be looking forward to labor and delivery at this point, making those final countdown preparations like packing a hospital bag and preparing for the nursery. We're making these preparations, but ever so slowly. I usually go two weeks late so I'm really not in the hospital mode yet. I'm one of those women who enjoy labor and delivery. I delight in my body's strength and ability to bring children into the world. I gain a sense of renewed confidence for every son and daughter I have brought into this world. I enjoy working with my husband and my body to labor peacefully.<br />
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This time is a little different though. Yes, my baby boy is completely healthy. My body has adjusted well to this pregnancy. But, there, ever present in the back of my mind is the loss of my other two babies from miscarriage in these past two years. I'm more fearful at the end of this pregnancy, because of those losses. I just don't know, and I can't rest secure that I will be fine in this labor and delivery. The last two children that passed through me were dead. Am I alone in these feelings? How does a Mom work through them and have a positive experience? I honor my children, both born and unable to be born, but how do I work through these fears in time to welcome my son?<br />
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Please pray for me as I wrestle with these memories in my mind. Pray that I find peace and a renewed sense of what is to come.PattyinCThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04286757995048861826noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8053163294677552820.post-40014836690233360212013-04-03T20:08:00.000-07:002013-04-03T20:08:54.130-07:00What's In a Word?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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There has been much talk and hype in this house in the last week about our new Pope's decision to wash the feet of women. Mostly I talked, and my husband listened, read, and researched. I didn't want to say anything publicly on this, but I find myself delving into these long-standing inner-monologues throughout the day, which leads me to realize that I need to blog on this and all consequential subjects.<br />
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The Pope washed the feet of women. Firstly, he has the absolute right to do whatever he pleases with the General Instruction during the Liturgy. He is the supreme head of the Liturgy here on earth, he alone can make or break "the rules" according to his station. Secondly, the Pope in no way has publicly endorsed female priests or any other such nonsense. The act of washing the feet as Christ himself has shown is to embody service to ALL as to be carried out by His disciples upon His passing. This specific act has nothing to do with the priesthood. The entire rite is optional. And on, and on, and on it goes...<br />
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I am conflicted on this though. If the Pope had changed the Rubrics by way of an explanation before the service, maybe I could understand better. While I understand that the GIRM (General Instruction of the Roman Missal) indicates that this gesture of the washing of feet is to show charity and service to all, it also clearly indicates that it should be the feet of men. No, I find that it is not because the Church is misogynistic or based on an antiquated male hierarchy. It was because only men were present at the Last Supper, at least according to the Sacred Gospel accounts that we have. And according to Jewish customs at the time, only men were allowed to dine together during the Passover meal, the Seder. Women would be in another room, and if the home permitted, the women would be on a separate level as the men. Christ was not one to stand on tradition though, He could have permitted women to be present simply (and yet profoundly) because He was God. And yet He didn't. The men present, his Apostles, were there upon his willing it, and it was there that Christ also led them to the example of service in the washing of feet. He could have washed feet at any other time, but he did so right before He taught them the most sacred of meals that they would enact again and again, and which would become the lifeblood of the Church. He entrusted to these men the sacred responsibilities of service of both the body (by washing the feet) and the soul (by instituting the Eucharist).<br />
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I just think there's so much pain surrounding this act of the Pope. From all sides. Pain that comes from those who feel disenfranchised and ignored by the Church. Pain from those who embrace the traditions of the Church and her role of guiding both men and women to use their gifts by virtue of their sexuality to serve the Church. And that pain has ultimately caused a lot of knee jerk, emotional, responses. I've been confronted a lot by people of all walks of life and on both sides of the Adam/Eve debate why not? Why shouldn't women's feet be washed? After all women are called to serve and to be served are they not? The answer is obviously yes. I believe that Christ singles out women and raises them up according to his very Passion. When these same men, who became established Priests in the new Church, cowardly turned away and fled from Christ, it was the women who faithfully followed in his footsteps. It was women who wiped his face, who mourned and wept for him, who comforted him and his mother, who attended every turn on that walk to Calvary. These women were called for their constancy, and for their fearlessness. For their weeping vigil and broken heartedness. And they were rewarded, these same women, upon seeing Christ resurrected. In a mysterious way that only God can show to us in His time, what the men received in the Last Supper, the instruction to serve and to care for, the women went forth and did to Christ Himself. In action. This is not an insignificant thing. The men had their feet washed with the exhortation to wash others feet. It was a woman who washed the face of Christ. The man who received the very Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Christ went out and betrayed Him with a kiss. The woman who had been caught and held in the bondage of the sins of lust, greed, pride, and all the deadliest followed faithfully our Lord who was able to rescue her soul from death. The men wept with grief until they could no longer stay awake during our Lord's agony. The women wept again and again as they carried our Lord's agony in their witness to Him. Of course the Lord would give the women special recognition, not just because of their sex, but because of their faithfulness to him.<br />
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So then why the outcry, mostly from women, in our time? Where has this faithfulness gone? I believe that women are so hurt in our time. More hurt than in anytime in history. I think it is interesting and Godly timed that Christ spoke to women, in front of the women who would follow him to his death these words "Blessed are the wombs that do not bear and the breasts that do not nurse. (Luke 23:29)" He was speaking directly to the women of all time, but how relevant is that today? Ask any mother who has more than 3 children what kinds of scrutiny she gets when out with her family. The world throws this mantra out all. the. time. And women are hurting and bereaved more and more by it. They search for something, anything, some affirmation that the standards they are desperately trying to live up to are equal to God's approval of them. They wait on the Church to recognize their sex, the brute Bishops, Cardinals, and Pope to affirm their dignity. Women are killing themselves in our day and age, and killing one another, in some form of unspoken rat race that will lead to nowhere but a trap. A mind game that will lead to damage. The world as we live in it today offers us one lie, ladies, one big lie. If we want to serve the Church, if we want to serve one another, if we want to have our feet washed, we must eat that apple all over again. We must be the world's adaptation of the Beatitudes and make sure that our wombs do not bear and our breasts do not nurse. This is why, I believe, that no woman who wants her feet washed can stand the thought of having a man represent her. No man is equal to the sacrifice she has given to be able to serve her Church. By sabotaging her sexuality, by this rupture with nature she is so willing to cause, she wants the Church not to recognize her sex, but to recognize the sacrifice she is willing to make in subduing her sex in order to buy the lie that this will make her somehow equal to man. Christ came to raise the temple, our bodies, our very selves, in glory like His own. All that we are as men and women, all that makes us human. And in that glory there is no room for destruction or decay. So why would women feel that it is more pleasing to God to forsake all that it is that makes her "woman", to poison her own body, heart, mind, and soul in a way that cannot be undone? And this is the lie that makes the snake hiss with glee.<br />
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Yes, I do believe that BOTH men and women are called to serve Holy Mother Church. But I believe that the Church in Her eternal wisdom recognizes the gifts that BOTH men and women can bring to her. If it weren't for Christ's time on earth, women would not be recognized in the context of the dignity that only Christianity brought with it. Women were nothing more than property in Jewish times, and it was only the affirmation of Christ that raised women to the role of disciple, unheard of in the Temple days. Women have a direct connection with the founding and the history of our Church, there is no denial of that fact. But where Christ gave specific example, wouldn't we be best to follow it? For His reasons, mysterious though they are, men had their feet washed. Do we serve Christ best by following his example? Or do we serve Him best by manipulating a role He meant for men now that He's been gone these 2,000 years.<br />
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I love our new Pope. I pray for him, and I ask the Holy Spirit to be with us all. Where true charity and love are found, there is also true humility. I pray for all the gifts that the Spirit can provide on these feast days of Easter. And I ask His help to guide my heart in pondering the many mysteries that are so above my ways, its like watching a sparrow high up in the sky. Christ the Resurrected Lord, have mercy on us all. Amen.PattyinCThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04286757995048861826noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8053163294677552820.post-79341907009907771202013-03-29T09:19:00.000-07:002013-04-05T22:27:12.185-07:00Good Friday's Litany of Humility<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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O Jesus! meek and humble of heart,</div>
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Hear me.</div>
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From the desire of being esteemed,</div>
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Deliver me, Jesus.</div>
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From the desire of being loved,</div>
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Deliver me, Jesus.</div>
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From the desire of being extolled,</div>
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Deliver me, Jesus.</div>
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From the desire of being honored,</div>
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Deliver me, Jesus.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv_nPZK5Rqy6ZFJk3ps3s-lWj74h9wJV5yGWM4FgQQMkC4Nu7ZLLvbSJzsLnk_D5as0kNIV-e-Uox81wBwfGZcetDLe9elW7XktS9LskAg1J97iUkBpM0Ta0LA6XArTxhj8IoXrbE820HH/s400/the+passion+of+the+christ+judas+watching+jesus+being+beaten+in+temple+passion082.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv_nPZK5Rqy6ZFJk3ps3s-lWj74h9wJV5yGWM4FgQQMkC4Nu7ZLLvbSJzsLnk_D5as0kNIV-e-Uox81wBwfGZcetDLe9elW7XktS9LskAg1J97iUkBpM0Ta0LA6XArTxhj8IoXrbE820HH/s320/the+passion+of+the+christ+judas+watching+jesus+being+beaten+in+temple+passion082.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4wsn49__uha19lLSAZ9R_ZyLODFP3GMtTqQvH7jlD0S8Pyq6axl2Tp32li4yYqA3H8oxwhYeqYWmCqWKQtS_UJT8IQQ-qmq3JFKlV2SaMipKcFu2czAtgalSh-LETzxvIPaqHmLKXeIvN/s400/the+passion+of+the+christ+judas+giving+back+money+temple+scars+on+mouth+passion088.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a> </div>
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From the desire of being praised,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Deliver me, Jesus.</div>
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</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4wsn49__uha19lLSAZ9R_ZyLODFP3GMtTqQvH7jlD0S8Pyq6axl2Tp32li4yYqA3H8oxwhYeqYWmCqWKQtS_UJT8IQQ-qmq3JFKlV2SaMipKcFu2czAtgalSh-LETzxvIPaqHmLKXeIvN/s400/the+passion+of+the+christ+judas+giving+back+money+temple+scars+on+mouth+passion088.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4wsn49__uha19lLSAZ9R_ZyLODFP3GMtTqQvH7jlD0S8Pyq6axl2Tp32li4yYqA3H8oxwhYeqYWmCqWKQtS_UJT8IQQ-qmq3JFKlV2SaMipKcFu2czAtgalSh-LETzxvIPaqHmLKXeIvN/s320/the+passion+of+the+christ+judas+giving+back+money+temple+scars+on+mouth+passion088.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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From the desire of being preferred to others,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Deliver me, Jesus.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkSsEunhws_-j8VTYoDhRJRMg_DbKYlzbtis0vfu8TGNEcpeIU6Y1uJdCnvHXm6cdUoq-fuLowXKkJZKJEPl0x7uEsYeLtj_m4IHsJN2R9w6pFhdeeBn5HXFPwPsdCFRfiboNFR6ZoaXj0/s400/the+passion+of+the+christ+caiphus+in+the+temple+accussing+christ+passion083.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkSsEunhws_-j8VTYoDhRJRMg_DbKYlzbtis0vfu8TGNEcpeIU6Y1uJdCnvHXm6cdUoq-fuLowXKkJZKJEPl0x7uEsYeLtj_m4IHsJN2R9w6pFhdeeBn5HXFPwPsdCFRfiboNFR6ZoaXj0/s320/the+passion+of+the+christ+caiphus+in+the+temple+accussing+christ+passion083.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
From the desire of being consulted,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Deliver me, Jesus.</div>
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</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://i266.photobucket.com/albums/ii245/hawkshock/the%20passion/16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="237" src="http://i266.photobucket.com/albums/ii245/hawkshock/the%20passion/16.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
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From the desire of being approved,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Deliver me, Jesus.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLO7eQxxEv6_P7uwbyUQip5ed-40m2vWt78vn2_xSTAoWQQ9FPIxX0bXe0mTMUSy5Cdb1fI_Ba5hZ8SQwJBG8HPtxb1BWFXd2dZuuqp_Fd1nCtqiw58wWSNvPhJS7tzbJjCUwN8kJ5p1G2/s400/the+passion+of+the+christ+mary+temple+floor+passion098.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLO7eQxxEv6_P7uwbyUQip5ed-40m2vWt78vn2_xSTAoWQQ9FPIxX0bXe0mTMUSy5Cdb1fI_Ba5hZ8SQwJBG8HPtxb1BWFXd2dZuuqp_Fd1nCtqiw58wWSNvPhJS7tzbJjCUwN8kJ5p1G2/s320/the+passion+of+the+christ+mary+temple+floor+passion098.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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From the fear of being humiliated,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Deliver me, Jesus.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2008remodel.files.wordpress.com/2010/04/passion-crowning.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="235" src="http://2008remodel.files.wordpress.com/2010/04/passion-crowning.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
From the fear of being despised,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Deliver me, Jesus.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijGJN2rvmXXbr6VDHXzNZw9TsZzx4RJXRac6WsHfv6-NbmaZtwgTwDmGNPkC4fx3fO4nU283xpw8HlVAvb9U6YG2j70buTBaPY2hIEaJ3svccDePM4APGLwXNpsrZMvESPQiFH2Ru1E50/s1600/Passion+-+Scourged+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="227" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijGJN2rvmXXbr6VDHXzNZw9TsZzx4RJXRac6WsHfv6-NbmaZtwgTwDmGNPkC4fx3fO4nU283xpw8HlVAvb9U6YG2j70buTBaPY2hIEaJ3svccDePM4APGLwXNpsrZMvESPQiFH2Ru1E50/s320/Passion+-+Scourged+2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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From the fear of suffering rebukes,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Deliver me, Jesus.</div>
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</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://i191.photobucket.com/albums/z43/sevenarts/conversations/016/easter32.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="http://i191.photobucket.com/albums/z43/sevenarts/conversations/016/easter32.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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From the fear of being calumniated,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Deliver me, Jesus.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://ourfaithinaction.net/wp-content/uploads/2004/02/pilate_questions_jesus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="217" src="http://ourfaithinaction.net/wp-content/uploads/2004/02/pilate_questions_jesus.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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From the fear of being forgotten,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Deliver me, Jesus.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheV2T62Y4cwUqjD0EK8f0cYk08NOPlIRa0lSc6bJVvOZZQseCurldYC-QPgCadHLwM8zD1lSopq60ddh8M3AYR-lpBRPW8WYN4VL29jvr8FzD9u8D6C6O9xEhOvdMGM6uWwi6lVCYWqUM/s400/File_PassionMovie_Crowd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheV2T62Y4cwUqjD0EK8f0cYk08NOPlIRa0lSc6bJVvOZZQseCurldYC-QPgCadHLwM8zD1lSopq60ddh8M3AYR-lpBRPW8WYN4VL29jvr8FzD9u8D6C6O9xEhOvdMGM6uWwi6lVCYWqUM/s320/File_PassionMovie_Crowd.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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From the fear of being ridiculed,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Deliver me, Jesus.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://i1-mac.softpedia-static.com/screenshots/The-Passion-of-The-Christ_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://i1-mac.softpedia-static.com/screenshots/The-Passion-of-The-Christ_2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
From the fear of being wronged,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Deliver me, Jesus.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.womeninthebible.net/Passion_Christ_ecce.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="254" src="http://www.womeninthebible.net/Passion_Christ_ecce.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
From the fear of being suspected,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Deliver me, Jesus.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.bible-people.info/Copy_of_passion_fall.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" src="http://www.bible-people.info/Copy_of_passion_fall.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
That others may be loved more than I,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.thetablet.co.uk/images/060304.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="207" src="http://www.thetablet.co.uk/images/060304.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
That others may be esteemed more than I,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDGUhDUIIlymUyQIjALkiLcyKFnwG-T4ktlCiwMPfGjSzbEp5tZmfwzKlTXLGESqm5byXE_A9vVVOJeAvnaDm4CEgdcPA3bFFRDPtM62e34THub6RqAdGbhYlO33YLkCiYWw_7v6-wmQ/s1600/passion_of_the_christ_8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDGUhDUIIlymUyQIjALkiLcyKFnwG-T4ktlCiwMPfGjSzbEp5tZmfwzKlTXLGESqm5byXE_A9vVVOJeAvnaDm4CEgdcPA3bFFRDPtM62e34THub6RqAdGbhYlO33YLkCiYWw_7v6-wmQ/s320/passion_of_the_christ_8.jpg" width="210" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
That, in the opinion of the world, others may increase and I may decrease,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.hotflick.net/flicks/2004_The_Passion_of_the_Christ/004POC_James_Caviezel_053.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://www.hotflick.net/flicks/2004_The_Passion_of_the_Christ/004POC_James_Caviezel_053.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
That others may be chosen and I set aside,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCqldjDqfMQjy9uf_KaRwzkdEv_Mg7rNe1CacZY63CQeG6SXfYRAw-Foip03I_IQM6g_PcMmwa-WMPlXTDa0FeFTmzNWoSFOiZF5uwul-7wFDoKhzlTrjMDXe-wLWrJXGM4hzIYRQctaHw/s1600/2004+Passion+Nailing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="145" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCqldjDqfMQjy9uf_KaRwzkdEv_Mg7rNe1CacZY63CQeG6SXfYRAw-Foip03I_IQM6g_PcMmwa-WMPlXTDa0FeFTmzNWoSFOiZF5uwul-7wFDoKhzlTrjMDXe-wLWrJXGM4hzIYRQctaHw/s320/2004+Passion+Nailing.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
That others may be praised and I unnoticed,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieXJq4Cp3FCFmwbtb-ZfYmheg9r34LstMyk3dyKJqTQLxuVLdEBzupncltfakdkrYGn2WJUDtR_61pV6z0Zsa49MFpQUghuy-wS0gZsesPF-EbDDvmo5XYYkpZ3o8nmE7svSJj6wdsrg/s1600/passion_of_the_christ.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieXJq4Cp3FCFmwbtb-ZfYmheg9r34LstMyk3dyKJqTQLxuVLdEBzupncltfakdkrYGn2WJUDtR_61pV6z0Zsa49MFpQUghuy-wS0gZsesPF-EbDDvmo5XYYkpZ3o8nmE7svSJj6wdsrg/s320/passion_of_the_christ.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
That others may be preferred to me in everything,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/2/Open/20th%20Century%20Fox/The%20Passion%20of%20the%20Christ/_derived_jpg_q90_600x800_m0/ThePassionoftheChrist-Still4CR.jpg?partner=allmovie_soap" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://cps-static.rovicorp.com/2/Open/20th%20Century%20Fox/The%20Passion%20of%20the%20Christ/_derived_jpg_q90_600x800_m0/ThePassionoftheChrist-Still4CR.jpg?partner=allmovie_soap" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
That others may become holier than I,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
provided that I may become as holy as I should,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://catholicview.files.wordpress.com/2011/04/pieta.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="243" src="http://catholicview.files.wordpress.com/2011/04/pieta.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Images taken from <em>The Passion of the Christ</em>, 2004</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Words from <em>Litany of Humility</em></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Rafael Cardinal Merry del Val (1865-1930)</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Secretary of State for Pope Saint Pius X</div>
PattyinCThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04286757995048861826noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8053163294677552820.post-2981081725534755782013-03-27T18:12:00.001-07:002013-03-27T18:12:10.341-07:00Pope Francis and the Miracle of the EucharistHow cool is it that I found <a href="http://www.loamagazine.org/nr/the_main_topic/eucharistic_miracle_in_buenos.html">this article</a> about a Eucharistic Miracle in Buenos Aires while Pope Francis was then a Cardinal there? <br />
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I pray that, <a href="http://www.loamagazine.org/nr/the_main_topic/eucharistic_miracle_in_buenos.html">by reading this</a>, you are blessed with a wonderful and profound understanding or at least an appreciation of all that will take place on Holy Thursday evening in that most sacred of meals. <br />
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Enjoy!<br />
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PattyinCThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04286757995048861826noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8053163294677552820.post-39736494160588445622013-03-20T07:25:00.001-07:002013-03-20T07:25:12.332-07:00RuminationsThank you, dear Readers, for your prayers! It's the old adage at work "everything will look better in the morning". My husband and I have talked long and often about my last post, I've prayed on it and gone to spiritual council in confession. I haven't reached any formal conclusions, but the Holy Spirit has prompted me with this thought along the way: You are the decisions you make. Hubby and I made the decisions we did at the prompting of much grace in our vocation preparations. We didn't know the future, the outcome, and we still don't. But aside from personal habit changes that I'd like to make, I wouldn't change the decisions that were given to us in the gifts of our children. And I know that my husband wouldn't either.<br />
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We work harder than most of our couple friends to make ends meet. And that isn't a careless "grass is greener" judgment that I throw out lightly. When we hear our friends whine about working an 8 hour day and having an occasional over 40 (or even potentially over 50 hour) work week, we grit our teeth. When you have a home based business your workday starts before the sun comes up and ends well after the midnight oil has been burned. We work hard for every dollar that we make, and we work twice as hard deliberating how every dollar should be spent. What used to be an occasional "impulse buy" doesn't happen anymore, as even a $20 purchase would set us back in our budget for the rest of the month. We recognize that, we hope it will change and that finances will become a little easier in the future, but we also recognize that there are valuable lessons to be learned in the hard times. As a wife and mother, I'm learning to distinguish between "wants" and "needs" when planning a shop. And I'm also learning how to entrust that decision to the Lord before my purchase. I'm learning that you can go very far in America establishing a home on other people's second hand items. As a girl, my Mom used to sing and play "Secondhand Rose" on the piano, and I used to find the song fascinating. We live that now!<br />
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I need to learn the differences between "good" and "perfect". Most of the time life is good. It's the rare exception in our life when it is bad. Life has never been perfect. I need to learn and accept that as one of the 'facts of life'. I need to bloom where I am planted more and be satisfied with my situation in life. I often withhold my best in an effort to 'save for a rainy day'. For what? Scripture shows us the rebuke of the servant who buried his talents (I am paraphrasing here) in the sand. He was not entrusted with more by our Lord. Did the Lord hold back in his will for my life? Why am I holding back? I'd like to face each day as if it were my last. To live life, to seize the moment, to not hide and hope for a change I'm not sure will come despite my efforts. Life isn't like that. I love that expression 'life happens while you're busy making plans'. How true is that!<br />
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As you see here, there is so much to think about, to ponder, to explore and examine. I ask your continued prayers as I go through it all. And know that I continue to pray for all of you as well. I leave you all with a very inspiring post that I found on the blog, <em>Large Family Mothering </em>entitled <a href="http://ladyofvirtue.blogspot.com/2011/01/decorating-for-large-family-mother.html">"Decorating Ideas for the Large Family".</a>PattyinCThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04286757995048861826noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8053163294677552820.post-58172463955864078992013-03-10T00:33:00.000-08:002013-03-10T00:33:59.614-08:00The Life of MomI've come to that point in pregnancy, like in all that have been allowed to get to this point, of pondering motherhood. I dreamt of this little boy tonight, so beautiful with blonde hair and blue eyes. What a sweet smile he had, and I loved him. I wonder if my baby boy will look like this?<br />
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Yesterday was a rough day in my pregnancy. The roughest day yet. Physically I've been doing fine, although I've probably gained more weight at this point than I should have. But emotionally it was a tough day. The lowest point was yesterday afternoon. The kids and I were watching "Secondhand Lions" when my 8-year-old son turned to me and pointed out that I reminded him of the mother in this movie. For the record I'm not a skinny, smoking, floozy who drops her child off in the middle of nowhere with relatives he's never met to go philandering with a series of different boyfriends. Outwardly, the comparison could have made me laugh, but inwardly it touched and hurt my core.<br />
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My own mother was a woman who should not have been a mother. She was successful in everything but motherhood. Her career was a long and respected one in medicine. She was socially graceful, beautiful, something of a local dignitary in our Parish growing up. If she had valued motherhood in anyway, she may have admitted she failed. But I'm sure in her mind that failure could have been compared to a failure at gardening or embroidery. Motherhood, according to my mother, didn't matter in my childhood and it doesn't matter to this day. Except to me. I don't blame my mother. I thank her for allowing the three children she became pregnant with to come into this world. And in some way I thank her for allowing me the pain of bearing the end result of bad parenting, as it has made me who I am today. The lesson of my past, of my own pain, was learned in holding my first born son. I don't feel sorry for myself, except on occasion. Instead I take what I have learned and lived through, and I make every attempt to be a good mother. But now I have to wonder if the comparison of myself to this Hollywood depiction of a bad mother might hold some small shred of truth. Am I so distracted with being a "good mother" that I ignore my children in my attempt to "get it right"?<br />
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I fought long and hard for my children. The entire year that my husband and I discerned our upcoming wedding, I fought against using NFP. I felt strongly that if we were at a point in our relationship that we actively sought marriage, we should actively start preparing for and raising children. My husband always brought up finances, "what if we can't afford a large family?" I always reassured him that God would provide, that we'd be alright. I've lived in personal conflict throughout my own marriage, wondering if I have thrown our marriage off of a cliff expecting the Lord to catch and save us. I set standards, impossible ones it seems, for both my husband and me. I had to be a stay at home Mom (I didn't want to make my own mother's mistake of placing my career ahead of my family.) I had to homeschool (I didn't want my children to fail academically as I was allowed to do.) I wanted a large family (my mother had her tubes tied during her stay in the hospital after having me.) I worked very hard to convince my husband and myself that my own role as a wife and mother had to be an open act of rebellion against the hurts that my mother had placed on me. Rather than reflect upon and deal with these hurts, and do my best to heal from them and move on, I set impossible standards for both my husband and I to accomplish. And now, as we stand upon our own sinking Titanic, I feel deeply conflicted and responsible for not seeing the iceberg until now.<br />
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Why do these emotions, these hardships come at the same point in all of my pregnancies? I hope that our home business doesn't fold, that we don't lose our house, but the economy is bad right now. I always thought that moving from our mobile home would help in our journey forward. But now I wonder in fear whether it was better to be a cramped family of 7 in 900 square feet that we could afford, or to live in a home and struggle through the worst of it in a home that we can't afford? I've taken over all of the responsibilities of cooking, cleaning, tending the household needs (minus repairs) and working part time in the hopes that staying out of my husband's way would help him to grow the company. I feel more like a weight on his back all the time, and struggle more and more to ask him for less and less. I try to accommodate more and more of the routine of keeping up our family, and feel that he becomes overwhelmed when I need help with the things I think should be simple for him. I think things are important, but I doubt myself when I also think that if things were important to my husband they would be noticed and at the very least talked about. I hide from him, emotionally (he works from home and I'm a stay at home mom so there's no way to hide from him physically). But I keep all my fears and dreams from him, why should he be bothered with that too? And yet, in my second lowest point yesterday he told me that I make it impossible to be loved, to be cared for. And in the end, I have to wonder again if I bear the burden of the responsibility of this mistake? And I think the mistake is this: That as much as I hate to admit it, I used my husband. I used my husband, that open, naïve, trusting man whom I fell in love with so many years ago, to satisfy my own desires. My desire to succeed where my mother failed. I used him to furnish for me a home and an environment where I could find healing through my own attempts at adulthood as I concluded they should be. My desires, my wants, my persuasions were impossible. Again, in the same way I could have laughed at my son for his speculations on my role playing comparison to the floozy, I could have laughed at my husband for his speculations too. But really, through my own expectations, my own agenda, I have created an environment where it is impossible for him to love me and for him to care for me.<br />
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O Lord, help me. I'm still falling from that cliff and now I'm suffering even more for these innocent people I have dragged along with me. I don't want to be convincing anymore. I want to be right. And this life I'm living is not right. I'm getting amazing results in all that I do. But in questioning the heart, in looking deeper to the core, I am so sad to realize that I've learned nothing from my mother after all. This path that I've taken to reach my goal of perfect motherhood has created nothing but a void of destruction in its wake. Forgive me Lord, help me, heal me, and make me whole. Give me another chance to learn to love, another chance to re-earn the trust and love of my husband and my children. Amen.PattyinCThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04286757995048861826noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8053163294677552820.post-49352595469494654022013-03-01T23:59:00.001-08:002013-03-01T23:59:29.176-08:00What's new pussycat?So here it is, almost halfway through my Lenten journey, and I am just now starting my Lenten resolution. *sigh*<br />
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Not much is new, but everything is new it seems. So in my newness, not that much has changed I suppose you could say. As an update: After 2 miscarriages within a year, my husband and I conceived again last August. The baby is doing great, a healthy baby boy due June 18. He is so active and I thank God everyday for him. There are so many changes in this pregnancy for me, mostly psychological. I am so grateful for this baby. Not that I wasn't in my other 5 children's successful pregnancies, I just took so much for granted. It got to a point after my 5th child, my second girl, where I was ashamed to admit to people that I was pregnant. I was scared of what even my closest friends would think. I shied away from the support network that I once depended on and withdrew so that the nasty comments about the privacy of my husband's and my marriage wouldn't become the butt of someone else's joke. God reminded me that this was not His plan. That every child should be loved, and cherished, and welcomed into the world all because of Him. He saw my lack of willingness to love, to accept, even in the face of persecution, so He took two of the most precious gifts He could give back to Himself. What a lesson life hands us in loss. It really has changed my pregnancy journey this time. When people start in with their usual worldly harassment I just blink back at them, because I realize now they don't understand what underlying grace accompanies every child that is allowed to make it into this world. Instead of being ashamed by their pity upon me, I understand now that such a depraved person really is the one to be pitied. And that at the root of it all is prayer. People really, truly, desperately need prayer.<br />
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I wish I had all the same things. Money, without the time it takes to make money. A stay at home wife and mother to help support me as a stay at home wife and mother. The ability to give my children BOTH everything they need and everything they desire. The time to both do it right and to sit back and reflect on the enjoyment of doing it right. But I realize that my dreams have evolved too. I was pondering this a couple of months ago after one of my pre-natal appointments. My husband was driving me home, and like most Americans in the country right now, we were discussing financial hardships we've faced this past year. The thought occurred to me that money is not the root of a dream. Sure, it is a sometimes needed fuel to help get us there. But so many of us have fallen short on what it takes to live a dream, to succeed in a dream. Success in a dreamed-of life may not look the same to the world as to the dreamer. I realized driving home that we could always use more money, more time. But what would I long for if I had all the money that I needed and all the time I desired? I would want a large family around me. It hit me then that I'm already living the dream. I've never gone without, and neither have my children or my husband. But I've gotten more than I deserve in that I'm already living in a large family with some of the most amazing people I've ever come to love and know on this earth. People are meant to be loved and money is meant to be spent. I wonder where the world started to get that backwards?<br />
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Happy Lent my friends. I am praying for you and hope to be on again to share my ruminations as random as they are:)<br />
PattyinCThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04286757995048861826noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8053163294677552820.post-91075261370922761062013-02-10T22:20:00.000-08:002013-02-10T22:20:14.948-08:00I'll be home for...LENT!!! Giving up Facebook in the hopes I can write here once a week for Lent. I'm hoping this exercise will help me "back into the saddle"! I've missed all of you, my dear readers, and I will pray that all of you have an awesome Mardi Gras and a wonderful beginning to the beauty that is our Catholic Lenten journey.PattyinCThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04286757995048861826noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8053163294677552820.post-1860086003822557882012-10-04T15:37:00.001-07:002012-10-04T15:37:34.351-07:00Keep the prayers coming!!Romney hasn't won yet. Although last night was definitely a victory!<br />
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And Obama isn't going to shame himself twice. Not now that he knows his opponent's ability to crush him. He'll come back prepared. He'll be schooling Joe Biden for the VP Debate as well against Ryan. But this is America's comeback team we're talking about. Keep praying for the underdogs, I can't believe how many people are STILL planning on voting for Obama. Say what?!?! I can't focus on those people, I would literally drive myself insane. I have to focus on those who are wavering, unsure, disillusioned with the way Wasthington is going. A LOT of cynicism on Facebook today. "It's the same old line delivered by one more man who wants to get in the White House." I'm hearing a lot of people convinced that there is no difference between Romney and Obama (Really?!?) Is their disillusionment coming from ignorance? No, not necessarily. I think there is something to that. But how do I spin that? How do I show that there are significant differences in key policies between these two candidates? How do I point out these differences without polarizing people who may not want to be that extreme?<br />
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Go Romney! You won a key battle yesterday! But this ain't over yet...<br />
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PattyinCThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04286757995048861826noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8053163294677552820.post-15767779329610501822012-10-02T05:04:00.001-07:002012-10-02T05:04:17.716-07:00Happy Feast of the Guardian AngelsI love this photo. It has very special significance to me. My husband and I were very involved in the Presidential race in 2008. Not only debating and speaking on behalf of the unborn, but fasting, praying, attending extra Masses, confession, the Rosary. We knew it was a spiritual battle. We were never closer to the Lord in our marriage than at that point in our spiritual journey. My son (at the time 5 y.o.) started having horrendous nightmares. He said it was a hooded figure that was chasing him in his dreams and they got worse as time went on, the being behind the cloak was a ferocious demon. His last dream he told me that the demon had cornered him, and had pulled a sword to kill him, but then a giant man came and stood in front of him and began to fight and defend him. My son could only stand there and yell to the man "What is your name?" The man turned a little and yelled over his shoulder "Michael!" I had our Pastor come out and bless the house and give my son a special blessing. He gave my son the above picture and my son, jumping up and down, exclaimed "Mom! Mom! That's him! That's the man in my dreams!" I still get tears when I think of this most special protector...<br />
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PattyinCThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04286757995048861826noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8053163294677552820.post-15965027857675338482012-09-20T18:27:00.000-07:002012-09-20T18:27:21.426-07:00Constancy...And so the journey continues. I had almost given up on it. On myself. Again. But somehow I made my way back into that ongoing venture towards health. As in any journey, you have to take definite, decisive steps towards health or you will wander aimlessly until you lose heart, or you lose interest.<br />
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I didn't go to my 5K race. My son had his soccer pictures at the same time as the start of the race, and his first game immediately following that. My group went and did really well, one of the ladies I run with, the head of our group, came in first in her age category. I was disappointed to be missing the race that I had looked forward to, but I knew I was in the right place. My son needed me there to cheer him on, to support him. I don't regret my decision. It was just a difficult decision to have to make.<br />
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Two different situations happened this last week that made me realize I had to keep going, that I had to stay motivated to lose the weight. A couple of my friends and I went out for a run on Monday night. Nothing too complicated just some speed drills along the track for 30 minutes. I had a hard time of it though, and when we finished up for the night, one of the two runners looked at me and told me that I was not ready, nor would I be able to get ready for the 10K I was moving towards in October (20). While I couldn't be upset with him for speaking his mind, and I couldn't doubt his friendship with that kind of brutal honesty, it was still a slap in the face. Not that he said it, but that he felt compelled to do so after we had been running. It stung, and continues to smart a little bit. I've worked harder this week to redeem myself than I have yet in this last year of attempting to lose weight. And I've decided not to do anymore group runs until I feel I can adequately aid my fellow runners and not slow them down.<br />
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We had our insurance salesman from the Knights of Columbus out to the house. My husband recently joined and he was helping us review our options. He told me that my rates would be lower based upon my health. When he asked for my weight and height, I could not even make it into the "average" category. I was still 20 lbs above the highest weight. And that was blow #2. He couldn't change the chart, and it was obvious he wasn't trying to hurt me. Just two different jolts of reality at two different points in my life to spur me on to get healthy.<br />
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What a nasty cycle its been. This journey towards health has had me chasing my own tail! I finally figured it out...I would gain weight. Then I would beat myself up for being overweight and unhealthy. Then I would beat myself up to lose the weight. Then I would lose the weight and reward myself by letting myself get out of the routine of healthy eating and exercise habits. And the nasty cycle would start all over again. Enough! Time to break that cycle! Time to lose that routine! As part of my healing with food, I need to look at my innermost needs and desires and to figure out what food has been helping to hide in me. What has food helped me to satisfy, though not completely? This is the question that I'm going to ponder as I continue along my journey. The negatives to my eating habits must be replaced by the positives that have come upon me, through revelation and discernment. I must make each pound a choice, a postive habit or thought must replace each pound that I have lost. I think that's why weight loss is so hard. Because it is so complex and intimate. 98% of weight loss is mental. Because we're all afraid of letting go. Of recognizing the enormity of change. But I must change. For the hurt I felt over being lovingly rejected by one of my peers is nothing compared to the hurt that will soon face me when I'm told I won't be able to have anymore children. The anguish I feel in not qualifying for life insurance will be nothing compared to the feeling I have when insurance will no longer my obesity related illnesses (thanks be to God I don't have them...Yet...) I must look for ways to replace the hurt, to heal those internal wounds that have affected me deeply. To make my weight something other than a handicap. To let my innner self image be more truly reflected in my outer appearance. It's not enough that I can hide from the world through this plus sized clothing. That I can put off other people's opinions simply because "they don't understand". I don't want to hide anymore, because in all this time, I've only been hiding from me. So please, my dear readers, bear with me as I hijack some of my blog space to really work through this area in my life right now. I will travel through some deep hurts, some self projections, some hidden deep dark secret caverns of the heart. Pray with me, walk with me, and help me to see that I'm better than what I've allowed myself to become, that I can heal and be whole. That I can find that inner child and coax her back into the light. I can regain what dignity I know I deserve that I inherited from a loving Creator. That I can reclaim my role as child of God, and live in the fullness He wants for me.<br />
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...And so the journey continues...<br />
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PattyinCThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04286757995048861826noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8053163294677552820.post-73127117459596507062012-09-11T08:47:00.001-07:002012-09-11T08:47:45.076-07:00Requiem of a fallen city...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span class="userContent">Emotions have their narrative; after the shock we move inevitably to the grief, and the sense that we are doing it more or less together is one tiny scrap of consolation.<br /> Initially, the visual impact of the scenes - those towers collapsing with malign majesty - extended our state of fevered astonishment. Even on Wednesday, fresh video footage froze us in this stupefied condition, and denied us our<span class="text_exposed_hide">...</span></span></div>
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profounder feelings: the first plane disappearing into the side of the tower as cleanly as a posted letter; the couple jumping into the void, hand in hand; a solitary figure falling with a strangely extended arm (was it an umbrella serving as a hopeful parachute?); the rescue workers crawling about at the foot of a vast mountain of rubble.<br /> In our delirium, most of us wanted to talk. We babbled, by email, on the phone, around kitchen tables. We knew there was a greater reckoning ahead, but we could not quite feel it yet. Sheer amazement kept getting in the way.<br /> The reckoning, of course, was with the personal. By Thursday I noticed among friends, and in TV and radio commentaries, a new mood of exhaustion and despair. People spoke of being depressed. No other public event had cut so deeply. The spectacle was over. Now we were hearing from the bereaved. Each individual death is an explosion in itself, wrecking the lives of those nearest. We were beginning to grasp the human cost. This was what it was always really about.<br /> The silent relatives grouped around the entrances to hospitals or wandering the streets with their photographs was a terrible sight. It reminded us of other tragedies, of wars and natural disasters around the world. But Manhattan is one of the most sophisticated cities in the world, and there were some uniquely modern elements to this nightmare that bound us closer to it.<br /> The mobile phone has inserted itself into every crevice of our daily lives. Now, in catastrophe, if there is time enough, it is there in our dying moments. All through Thursday we heard from the bereaved how they took those last calls. Whatever the immediate circumstances, what was striking was what they had in common. A new technology has shown us an ancient, human universal.<br /> A San Francisco husband slept through his wife's call from the World Trade Centre. The tower was burning around her, and she was speaking on her mobile phone. She left her last message to him on the answering machine. A TV station played it to us, while it showed the husband standing there listening. Somehow, he was able to bear hearing it again.We heard her tell him through her sobbing that there was no escape for her. The building was on fire and there was no way down the stairs. She was calling to say goodbye. There was really only one thing for her to say, those three words that all the terrible art, the worst pop songs and movies, the most seductive lies, can somehow never cheapen. I love you.<br /> She said it over and again before the line went dead. And that is what they were all saying down their phones, from the hijacked planes and the burning towers. There is only love, and then oblivion. Love was all they had to set against the hatred of their murderers.<br /> Last words placed in the public domain were once the prerogative of the mighty and venerable - Henry James, Nelson, Goethe - recorded, and perhaps sometimes edited for posterity, by relatives at the bedside. The effect was often consolatory, showing acceptance, or even transcendence in the face of death. They set us an example. But these last words spoken down mobile phones, reported to us by the bereaved, are both more haunting and true.<br /> They compel us to imagine ourselves into that moment. What would we say? Now we know.<br /> Most of us have had no active role to play in these terrible events. We simply watch the television, read the papers, turn on the radio again. Listening to the analysts and pundits is soothing to some extent. Expertise is reassuring. And the derided profession of journalism can rise quite nobly, and with immense resource, to public tragedy.<br /> However, I suspect that in between times, when we are not consuming news, the majority of us are not meditating on recent foreign policy failures, or geopolitical strategy, or the operational range of helicopter gunships.<br /> Instead, we remember what we have seen, and we daydream helplessly. Lately, most of us have inhabited the space between the terrible actuality and these daydreams. Waking before dawn, going about our business during the day, we fantasize ourselves into the events. What if it was me?<br /> This is the nature of empathy, to think oneself into the minds of others. These are the mechanics of compassion: you are under the bedclothes, unable to sleep, and you are crouching in the brushed-steel lavatory at the rear of the plane, whispering a final message to your loved one. There is only that one thing to say, and you say it. All else is pointless. You have very little time before some holy fool, who believes in his place in eternity, kicks in the door, slaps your head and orders you back to your seat. 23C. Here is your seat belt. There is the magazine you were reading before it all began.<br /> The banality of these details might overwhelm you. If you are not already panicking, you are clinging to a shred of hope that the captain, who spoke with such authority as the plane pushed back from the stand, will rise from the floor, his throat uncut, to take the controls...<br /> If the hijackers had been able to imagine themselves into the thoughts and feelings of the passengers, they would have been unable to proceed. It is hard to be cruel once you permit yourself to enter the mind of your victim. Imagining what it is like to be someone other than yourself is at the core of our humanity. It is the essence of compassion, and it is the beginning of morality.<br /> The hijackers used fanatical certainty, misplaced religious faith, and dehumanising hatred to purge themselves of the human instinct for empathy. Among their crimes was a failure of the imagination. As for their victims in the planes and in the towers, in their terror they would not have felt it at the time, but those snatched and anguished assertions of love were their defiance.<br /> © Ian McEwan, 2001</div>
PattyinCThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04286757995048861826noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8053163294677552820.post-73620966916639576982012-09-06T08:25:00.001-07:002012-09-06T08:30:53.408-07:00I have to pass on the...We had a nutritionist come and give a talk last night at our "Big Losers" meeting. It was a great talk, and I must admit it could not have come at a more needed time in my journey...<br />
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I've begun running (I'll give you a minute to pick yourselves up off the floor to continue reading...) I began doing the <a href="http://www.c25k.com/">Couch to 5K program</a> about a month ago. One week into this program I was talking it up around a campfire with my friends and the help of some red wine. My friends turned the discussion into their own training, for a half marathon. I proclaimed how much I would love to do that, and one of my friends pointed out that marathons are typically run outside, in front of other people (I had been running on my treadmill up to that point). I came home that night and realized that I wanted to do it. I was further fueled by a very unfruitful attempt at encouraging other homeschooling parents to join me in starting a running club. Wouldn't that look great? To have run a full marathon on your resume? The parents looked at me blankly and said "my kids play volleyball at youth group. They don't need sports." Very unfruitful...<br />
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So I continued on and approached my running friend again. She was so supportive and encouraging. We started a page on Facebook and have been organizing group runs for the past week. My husband is running too, and is hoping to run in the half marathon as well. I can't believe how much I love it, how stress relieving it is, and what a boost its been to my weight loss journey. My half marathon training is using the<a href="http://www.jeffgalloway.com/training/half_marathon.html"> Jeff Galloway running program</a>. It's challenging, but easy to maintain (you run on average 3 times a week, perfect for this homeschooling mom)...<br />
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...My challenge has been this...I am becoming overwhelmed. I have a structured running regimen. I have a structured diet regimen (1200-1500 calories a day). And now that school is here, I am trying to implement a structured schedule too. I am easily overwhelmed by that much structure taken on that quickly. The nutritionist we had last night talked about Intuitive Eating, a way to get back to basics, to listen to your body and respond to it. Every body is different, requiring different nutritional needs, that is why there is no one diet that works for everyone. This way of eating (its NOT a diet) works by listening to your body's signals and responding to it. Basically you discern when you are hungry and what you are hungry for, and then satisfying those requests. One of my fellow weight loss attendees hearkened it to "eating like her toddler". TRUE! Kids won't eat when they're not hungry. They won't eat what they don't like. It's only as adults that we suppress those instincts, and as a country we're showing the devastating effects of that in the name of obesity. I'm sure I wasn't the only one in the room last night who was both relieved to hear this talk and yet a bit overwhelmed. We're a competitive weight loss group...Like the biggest loser...and here we are listening to how we need a gentle, affirming approach to our body's nutrition. It's like telling a public school advocate about unschooling. Or telling military personnel there are no more rules. Yeah, it was a huge concept.<br />
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So I'm going to try it out. One of the things I learned about myself last night is that I am an emotional eater. I tend to use food to help comfort me when I'm depressed or guilty. One of the first things I'm going to look at are my emotional triggers (what is causing the guilt and depression) and trying to develop some ways to deal with those emotions without relying on food. Because even healthy food, when used as a crutch, can be harmful to your body. Healthy snackfood is still just that: snackfood.<br />
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Another concept she looked at was that there's no such thing as forbidden food. There really is no food that is "harmful" for you. Even butter. Even candy. There are good things to be found even in these otherwise "off limits" groups. She showed us the bad effects of "conditional eating" (I can't have that or I will be fat" or "I can only have that as a treat after I've [insert condition here]"). We need to learn to "unconditionally eat", its a sort of way to make peace with food. I found that to be really revealing. It was like we were somehow transferring our poor self image into our food choices. And then when we wanted to combat these poor food choices, we never dealt with that deeper issue of our self image, but rather cut ourselves off from those foods in an effort to change our physical appearance. But the self image, while poor, was just tossed out. We literally threw ourselves away. Change in appearance can not just be physical. It cannot be just a superficial weight loss. We need to reconstruct our own self worth, our own self image, our internal appearance. Not just affirming who we are as people, but coming to really know and love ourselves. And yes...That's all linked back to food, and to the choices we make, and to the habits we build by eating. Yeah, I'm not even going to start tackling that one yet! LOL!<br />
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So where do I go from here? Obviously there was a lot of good food for thought here (pardon the expression:), but I want to take on baby steps. Journaling every day is what the nutritionist recommended. Not just food choices but a journal reflecting how the day has been and how I was feeling...I'll start with this. I also need to figure out what is causing this mental block in my running schedule. I was running regularly and then all of a sudden this week I just don't feel like it. I'm wondering if maybe all the stress from starting school, combined with an already hectic schedule is too much right now. My first 5K (September 15) is coming up and I'm nervous about that too. I don't expect to win it, not in the least, but I am going to finish it, and I just hope I make good time instead of making a fool of myself. I know its coming up next weekend. I know I need to prepare. Then why can't I get out there and run? I need to look at that too...<br />
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At the end of the day all we can do is the best we can. That's not relative to anyone else, in any other situation. That includes the other person of our past, or the other person of our future. We can only do the best we can, in this moment that we have. Anyone who struggles with this, or has had to cross this threshold, knows that this is not a cop out. Every journey starts with a single step. At this point in my journey I just need to keep moving...PattyinCThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04286757995048861826noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8053163294677552820.post-53978167321356802502012-09-04T12:39:00.003-07:002012-09-04T12:39:48.547-07:00And the seasons...Here it is fall already. What a whirlwind time in passing it has been. With the ups and downs of life, I have not forgotten you, my dear readers.<br />
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It's been a hard summer. Mike and I found out that we were expecting this past Mother's Day. We lost the baby at 8 weeks after a very hard first trimester. So many questions in my mind. Such a sharp pain on my heart. We had prayed after our last miscarriage (last year in August). We had tried to take care of our health issues, to wait it out until I could heal from my last miscarriage. We had waited on the Lord and trusted in His goodness to provide for us this new lovely soul. I was thrilled when I found out that I was pregnant. Even when I was sick and often found myself in bed, I took it as a blessing to have these waves of morning sickness. I would lay there and pray over my unborn baby, just happy that he was there, present with me. My womb is so lonely now...<br />
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I've gone in for testing. I'm hoping for some answers. I would not feel comfortable trying to get pregnant again without having something more substantial. If that means in my discomfort I must trust the Lord for a miracle, as no answers are available, well...I'll cross that bridge when I get there. We continue to try to get healthy as a family. I've started running, which I never thought in a million years I would do. What a great release it is from the daily strains of life. I have a great group of friends, a great support network of loving and faithful people who have desired to see me grow. It is so hard somedays. Somedays it is all too easy. But this journey is far from over...<br />
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I'm hoping with the start of this new schoolyear that I will be writing more. I hope to see you on the blogosphere as well, my dear readers. Please leave me a note and let me know that you're all doing well.PattyinCThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04286757995048861826noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8053163294677552820.post-42373492060523753562012-04-06T05:30:00.000-07:002012-04-06T05:30:00.673-07:00The glory of the Cross<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/mTYzn0V5lKY" width="420"></iframe><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>1. Abroad the Regal Banners fly,</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Now shines the Cross's mystery;</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Upon it Life did death endure,</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>And yet by death did life procure.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>2. Who, wounded with a direful spear,</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Did, purposely to wash us clear</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>From stain of sin, pour out a flood</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Of precious Water mixed with Blood. </i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>3. That which the Prophet-King of old</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Hath in mysterious verse foretold,</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Is now accomplished, whilst we see</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>God ruling nations from a Tree. </i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>4. O lovely and reflugent Tree,</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Adorned with purpled majesty;</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Culled from a worthy stock, to bear</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Those Limbs which sanctified were. </i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>5. Blest Tree, whose happy branches bore</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>The wealth that did the world restore;</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>The beam that did that Body weigh</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Which raised up hell's expected prey.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>6. Hail, Cross, of hopes the most sublime!</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Now in this mournful Passion time,</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Improve religious souls in grace,</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>The sins of criminals efface.</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>7. Blest Trinity, salvation's spring,</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>May every soul Thy praises sing;</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>To those Thou grantest conquest by</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>The holy Cross, rewards apply. Amen.</i></span></div>PattyinCThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04286757995048861826noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8053163294677552820.post-22145657027488364992012-04-05T10:48:00.001-07:002012-04-05T12:49:47.217-07:00Stabat Mater<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/-2C1pXdpkHw" width="420"></iframe><br />
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<dt style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>The grieving Mother stood weeping beside the cross where her Son was hanging</i></span></dt><br />
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<dt style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Through her weeping soul, compassionate and grieving, a sword passed.</i></span></dt><br />
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<dt style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>O how sad and afflicted was that blessed Mother of the Only-begotten!</i></span></dt><br />
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<dt style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Who mourned and grieved and trembled looking at the torment of her glorious Child</i></span></dt><br />
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<dt style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Who is the person who would not weep seeing the Mother of Christ in such agony?</i></span></dt><br />
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<dt style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Who would not be able to feel compassion on beholding Christ's Mother suffering with her Son?</span></i></span></dt><br />
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</i></span></dt>PattyinCThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04286757995048861826noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8053163294677552820.post-79204020809282475722012-03-16T14:17:00.000-07:002012-03-16T14:17:00.697-07:00Detox WeekHubby and I are on a new diet. We are currently on <a href="http://www.transitionslifestyle.com/">Transition</a>s, which is a meal plan that follows the glycemic index, while providing an exercise regime, and utilizing behavior modifications. I had joined another diet group last November (and lost 24 lbs), but with the move and other factors, I realized it was too far of a commute. I've switched to this diet in the hopes the momentum will continue.<br />
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I started a weigh loss group in my home. We call ourselves "The Big Losers", and we have a friendly competition going. Whoever loses the most weight at the end of 10 weeks will win $100. The pressure is on! Not everyone in the group is on Transitions, but a majority of us are. We had so much fun at our first meeting (yes, I just used weight loss and fun in the same context!) We're surrounding ourselves with support and affirmation to go out into an otherwise hostile environment when it comes to health.<br />
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This first week of Transitions, hubby and I are on detox. We're on an all vegetable/fruit diet. No processed foods, no protein, no caffeine, no alcohol, no grains or starches, no sugars. When we get hungry we eat, drink, and breathe vegetables. The first day was really hard on me, as I was detoxing from addictions not only to caffeine but to sugar and carbs as well. It was a rough day! Tomorrow is day three. If we feel we must re-introduce protein, we can.<br />
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Isn't it funny how Americans must deprive themselves of food so readily available and taken for granted? How almost shameful it is that we must pay to understand how to do with less? How to take our bloated forms and make them healthy and viable again. Jesus forgive me, and may I continue this fast for the entire week in small reparation for my many sinful acts of gluttony.<br />
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Please keep me in your prayers as this week will end next Tuesday evening, with our first weigh in. I've been doing fine, but after all, tomorrow is St. Patrick's day. And has been told in the story of St. Patrick, I'm beginning to feel like those sailors did when they turned to God in desperate hunger for any food. No, I'm not that bad, but I'm beginning to relate!PattyinCThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04286757995048861826noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8053163294677552820.post-51468659104147641582012-03-09T14:42:00.001-08:002012-03-09T14:50:40.817-08:00If I had all the money in the world......I would help people. I know that sounds so like a "Miss America" answer and all, but I mean it. I love helping people. Providing people with the things they need to live better lives. Today I found an amazing deal for a dear friend of mine who recently started a home business selling cosmetics. She's been doing an amazing job, scheduling appointments, doing makeovers, meeting with salon business owners, going to trainings, all the while homeschooling and keeping house. Amazing! I found her a "director's chair" and some lights, a makeup apron, and a makeup bag. Nothing brand new, but all in decent shape and with "a lot of miles left". I felt so good dropping my gifts to her house today.<br />
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You have to wonder if everyone has these best of intentions. I mean, if you look at it, I'm sure Obamacare started with the best of intentions, just as Romneycare did and No Child Left Behind. Just as the New Deal did. Helping people. But you know, that''s not the point of our government. And the very organizations that exist in our country solely for the purpose of helping people are being hurt by our government's over-reach. I think Obama, with his background in community organizing would have made an excellent philanthropist. But he's not. He's our President. And the ways in which I see him disregard the Constitutional structure that our Founding Documents put into place is disheartening to say the least. He is systematically dismantling the same Constitution he was sworn to protect.<br />
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But its Lent. It's a time in the Church when we're supposed to be looking more at the sacrifices we can make to make lives more blessed around us. Rice bowls, sacrificial giving, tithing and alms giving. All of this is increased, or asked to be increased, in this rich time of dryness in the Church. How can the Church promote a spirit of giving and goodness, and then reject the government's following suit? Is it a double standard. I really have to look deep within myself and wonder if, as a Catholic, I'm not developing a Messiah complex and insisting that I have to be a Catholic control freak. Salvation can only be found in the Catholic Church. But what about health care? Faith and actions, they meet at the Cross.<br />
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Contraception is not birth control. I appreciate the few cases of women that "need" birth control to hide their symptoms for their reproductive ailments. Yes, I use my words carefully, for really that's what birth control does. Taking birth control to help regulate the pain associated with endomitriosis is like taking aspirin to regulate the headaches that come with a brain tumor. Artificial birth control does nothing to confront the real issue, to attack the disease. There are treatments, holistic medical treatments that can help a woman in the long run. Sadly, most women are on artificial birth control for so long that by the time they recognize these other treatments exist it is too late for these same treatments to be effective. Women get duped and buy into the birth control lie, and they pay the price of years of pain when they might have had healing. Even when its not intended to regulate births, the lie of birth control is being sold to desperate women nonetheless.<br />
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Politics has gotten brutal. The name calling, the lack of respect to both men and women out there is terrible. Friends have turned against friends, family members attack one another in the name of "being politically opposed". Where is Christ in all of this mess? Where is the love of Christ shown in the way we treat one another in the political arena? Where are the ways in which we build one another up, where we leave one another in 'the peace of Christ'? I can't believe the dishonesty and the brutal attacks on people from both sides. It's shameful:(<br />
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If I had all the money in the world, I would help people. But if I had all the money in the world, I know I couldn't help those people who just don't want to be helped. I think often, when dealing with a liberal minded person, of those dwarves in the last battle, the epic end of the Chronicles of Narnia series. They made it into Aslan's country, and yet they could not see the splendor of the truth that is around them. All they could do was look in on the circle they had created during the battle, and continue to comment and be negative about their situation. I sympathize with the Left in this regard. How often have I been here in my Faith journey? Seeing only the bleak points of life instead of the majesty that is this world that God created for us. How do I reach these people? Even through my own scrim of pain and intolerance. How do I show them that life is beautiful and should be loved and accepted as a gift from our Creator? Does my attitude make them want to live more or less in the light of Truth, in the light of God?<br />
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Lord, thank you for making me have no money that is solely my own. Thank you for my poverty and my inability to control anything financial. I see so much now within myself that I need to fix. That I need to heal before I can become responsible for the many gifts you have waiting for me. Lord, if I had all the money in the world, it would still be as nothing compared to the help, and the life, that you could lead all people too. May I stop and wonder more often what I might do to help your kingdom here on earth. Here in my own little way.<br />
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My son and I finished our first <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/my-day-with-jesus-lawrence-g-lovasik/1000513965?ean=9780899422947&cm_mmc=AFFILIATES-_-Linkshare-_-7WpuIFc4R6w-_-15%3a9780899422947&">Fr. Lovasik book "My Day with Jesus"</a> today with this prayer:<br />
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</div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Jesus is my God</b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="text-align: right;"><b>Jesus, my Friend,</b></div><div style="text-align: right;"><b>Son of the Eternal Father,</b></div><div style="text-align: right;"><a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/66/SVouet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/6/66/SVouet.jpg" width="251" /></a><b>make me His obedient child.</b></div><div style="text-align: right;"><b>Son of Mary,</b></div><div style="text-align: right;"><b>make me love her as my Mother.</b></div><div style="text-align: right;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="text-align: right;"><b>My Master, teach me.</b></div><div style="text-align: right;"><b>Prince of Peace, give me peace.</b></div><div style="text-align: right;"><b>My Shepherd, guide and care for me.</b></div><div style="text-align: right;"><b>My Bread of Life, feed my soul.</b></div><div style="text-align: right;"><b>The true Way, lead me.</b></div><div style="text-align: right;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="text-align: right;"><b>Eternal Truth, I believe in You.</b></div><div style="text-align: right;"><b>Life of the saints, live in me.</b></div><div style="text-align: right;"><b>My Judge pardon me.</b></div><div style="text-align: right;"><b>My King, rule me.</b></div><div style="text-align: right;"><b>My Hope, strengthen me.</b></div><div style="text-align: right;"><b><br />
</b></div><div style="text-align: right;"><b>My Redeemer, save me.</b></div><div style="text-align: right;"><b>My Helper, protect me.</b></div><div style="text-align: right;"><b>My Model, make me like You.</b></div><div style="text-align: right;"><b>My only Joy, take me to You.</b></div><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">St. Frances of Rome, pray for us!</div>PattyinCThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04286757995048861826noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8053163294677552820.post-49362168395759012052012-03-05T17:16:00.000-08:002012-03-05T17:16:28.721-08:00Ebb and Flow of Life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://totaltrust.files.wordpress.com/2012/02/lent1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="186" src="http://totaltrust.files.wordpress.com/2012/02/lent1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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Lent is here. I'm really feeling it this year. No, we didn't commit to super huge prayers or sacrifices. But the Lord in His goodness has seen to it that every day this Lent has been just a little more difficult for me. Nothing catastrophic, just little humiliations and tests of my patience to remind exactly where I need to focus my virtual attentions:) It's like that small headache that reminds you to get your eyes checked. Or that bone itching ache that reminds your fractures to rest and heal.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://livingforjesus.com/wp-content/woo_uploads/9-namib-desert-air-p-50_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="http://livingforjesus.com/wp-content/woo_uploads/9-namib-desert-air-p-50_2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>We gave up Netflix. I have to admit it was becoming a distraction. The house would go post-explosion. My poor husband would go hungry into work at night. I would sit on the couch and watch Netflix with my kids. "At least we're together." is what I reasoned to myself. Sure, we were in the same room, but we were hardly connecting. Every one of us was staring at the electric boob tube entranced, until it was bedtime and supper was still yet to be on the table. While its harder, I feel this Lent has helped us to move away from our electronic distractions and grow closer as a family. We craft a lot more (we've already made Lenten windsocks, sacrifice mice, and bookmarks) and we read and pray and talk more. It's these times that I hope my children will remember...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://stbernardstulsa.org/site/Portals/0/images/Rosary_Hands_Shadow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://stbernardstulsa.org/site/Portals/0/images/Rosary_Hands_Shadow.jpg" width="215" /></a></div>We are praying the family Rosary at night again. What a difficult and most beautiful habit to get into. What a peaceful way to calm us all and remind us of what's most important before we retire for the evening. It's about building habits. And relying on those habits. Yesterday we were running late for Church...Again...Rather than bicker with my husband the entire ride to Church I grimacingly said a decade of the Rosary. And then when that was over we started battling again over the power struggle of who was at fault...So of course we both started in on another decade. If you can't speak peaceably, then at least make an attempt to pray peaceably. It did help. It was a good change of habit for us both. And it began with our Lenten practice of saying the Rosary as a family.<br />
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How to navigate the ups and downs of life. If we continue to clean and cook and feed and dress and kiss and discipline and teach and sew and bathe and bandage, you would think a routine would develop. But it seems to be the routine of the unroutine in this house. I start everyday with the best of intentions and end every day with the firmest of resolutions. At least when a family life is centered around public school you have the routine of a bus route to keep you up on time every morning and home at the same time every afternoon. We don't have that so we slip into school and we slip out of school and it seems very amorphous between meals. I would love to have a definite start time and a definite end time. I wonder if I'm alone in look up nonplussed that all of a sudden its lunchtime and I'm not even done with my Kindergartener's first subject? And how do we fit in the music lessons and the sports and the personal hygiene and the personal time and fitness for mom...And the laundry and the dishes and the floors? And I want to start a garden this year and maybe some chickens next year...How do I keep it all straight? At this rate I can hardly keep a straight face!<br />
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Prayers are yours my dear readers. And I'm hoping as we reach into the desert journey together that we offer some small Lenten sacrifices and prayers for one another. I'd love to hear of your family Lenten traditions too!PattyinCThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04286757995048861826noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8053163294677552820.post-72361043750065459942012-02-28T13:25:00.000-08:002012-02-28T13:25:56.708-08:00Miscarriage PrayerA friend of mine is struggling through this right now. Please keep the family in your prayers. Here is a beautiful prayer that someone posted for her on FB. I thought I'd share in case any of you are in need of comfort or in need to comfort.<br />
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<div style="background-color: white; border: currentColor; color: black; overflow: hidden; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;"> <div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"> <span style="color: #663300;">My Lord, the baby is dead!</span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #663300; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"> Why, my Lord—dare I ask why? It will not hear the whisper of the wind or see the beauty of its parents’ face—it will not see the beauty of Your creation or the flame of a sunrise. Why, my Lord?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #663300; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"> “Why, My child—do you ask ‘why’? Well, I will tell you why.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #663300; font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"> You see, the child lives. Instead of the wind he hears the sound of angels singing before My throne. Instead of the beauty that passes he sees everlasting Beauty—he sees My face. He was created and lived a short time so the image of his parents imprinted on his face may stand before Me as their personal intercessor. He knows secrets of heaven unknown to men on earth. He laughs with a special joy that only the innocent possess. My ways are not the ways of man. I create for My Kingdom and each creature fills a place in that Kingdom that could not be filled by another. He was created for My joy and his parents’ merits. He has never seen pain or sin. He has never felt hunger or pain. I breathed a soul into a seed, made it grow and called it forth.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #663300;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: x-small;"> I am humbled before you, my Lord, for questioning Your wisdom, goodness, and love. I speak as a fool—forgive me. I acknowledge Your sovereign rights over life and death. I thank You for the life that began for so short a time to enjoy so long an Eternity. </span><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> -- Mother M. Angelica</span></span></span></div><br />
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Read more: <a href="http://www.ewtn.com/Devotionals/prayers/miscarriage.htm#ixzz1niKj79Qp" style="color: #003399;">http://www.ewtn.com/Devotionals/prayers/miscarriage.htm#ixzz1niKj79Qp</a></div>PattyinCThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04286757995048861826noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8053163294677552820.post-4835046445104156742012-02-20T08:17:00.000-08:002012-02-20T08:17:50.857-08:00HHS Mandate is not a "women's rights" issue.If you've been on Facebook this past week, I know you saw this photo:<br />
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Every pro-"women's rights" guru, including some Catholic women that I know, were asking "What is wrong with this photo?" Fueled by the vitriol that is Planned Parenthood, everyone wondered aloud where the women were at.<br />
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All I can say is, get real! The testimonies of these religious leaders were for a specific purpose: religious liberty. They didn't want to hear from pro-contraceptive women why birth control was "necessary". They didn't want to hear from good Catholic women why contraception was bad. The heart of the HHS mandate has really little to do with women. It has everything to do with religious liberty, particularly for Catholic religious liberty, in the good old U.S. of A.<br />
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The bitter cynical side of me (most days my better half) would simply posit the question: can any of you who take issue with the above photo know of at least ONE woman who is a Catholic AND on birth control? Do you know at least ONE Catholic couple who contracepts? Do you know of at least ONE Catholic woman who has had an abortion? If you can answer yes to even one of these questions, then you are totally off base with the tired "women's rights" argument here. I am an ordinary American Catholic. Not good. Not bad. Just trying. And I know for a fact that I attend Church every weekend with just as many contracepting women as I would encounter at my local mall. I could argue the moral implications here, but if you go to Church, you should know these teachings anyway, so I'll save my breath. The point is, morality aside, these women have ready access to the contraception they're on. There are multiple resources in our nation for any woman who wants access to contraception. There are governmental agencies and funds available for any woman who supposedly "needs" contraception and also "needs" financial help to secure said contraception. Even while its immoral, women have access to birth control, Catholic or not.<br />
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The fight doesn't end here. 40 years ago, the fight to secure contraception was meant to be between a woman and her physician. "Keep your Rosaries off my ovaries" was a mantra chanted by those who "wanted to be liberated" from the confines of society and traditional marriage. Well now, this same woman and her physician are turning on the collar. Women and physicians who see the "moral good" in contraception are turning on the Church and attempting to force Catholics everywhere to pay for contraception. Women like Kathleen Sibelius and Sr. Carol Keehan, both Catholic, are insisting that the Catholic Church go against its moral code and pay for contraception, sterilizations, and abortifacients. "My body my choice" means there's no other option for the Body of Christ. <br />
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I would just like to point out the irony here. The birth control movement was lead by feminists who believed that birth control was the only way to empower women. To make women free of the confines of motherhood and pregnancy. To make women strong independent contributors to society like their male counterpoints. And now the birth control movement is insisting that women need to be dependent on the government for their...Birth control???<br />
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No! This is not about access to birth control for women. This is about taking birth control and making it as morally acceptable as homosexual marriage has become. As morally acceptable as cohabitation has become. It is saying that sexual freedom trumps religious freedom. We have to accept that women are going to contracept. We can no longer accept that contraception is a moral wrong and that it is a detriment to civil society. That is why this HHS mandate is so dangerous, and so very wrong. That same little pill has been the elephant in the Catholic Church since <a href="http://www.vatican.va/holy_father/paul_vi/encyclicals/documents/hf_p-vi_enc_25071968_humanae-vitae_en.html">Humane Vitae</a> was written. It has kept the Catholic Church out of a majority of Catholic bedrooms. And it is now the Trojan horse (no pun intended) with which the government of the United States is riding in to conquer the Catholic Church in America.PattyinCThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04286757995048861826noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8053163294677552820.post-28112202111144030712012-02-02T17:57:00.001-08:002012-02-02T17:58:54.485-08:00A new Blogger on the Block!Hey All!<br />
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I just wanted to give a warm Blogospheric welcome to Father Nagle! An incredible man and an incredible Priest, he's decided to put some of his profound thoughts down on...nope not paper...nope not the pulpit...For all of us, dear Readers on the web! Woo hoo!!!<br />
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<a href="http://walter-nagle.blogspot.com/">Check him out here.</a>PattyinCThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04286757995048861826noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8053163294677552820.post-5685098200677337672012-01-30T17:51:00.000-08:002012-01-30T17:51:23.161-08:00The Great ScandalSo I was sitting in Mass on Saturday night when the Priest where I work got up and told us to fast and pray that a relgious exemption will be upheld and that the Catholic Church will not have to provide access to sterilizations, abortions, and contraception as part of their federally mandated employee insurance package. Wow. Look how far it has come. And how fast.<br />
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I am fasting and praying on this. I can't believe how blatant the Obama administration is in pressing 1/4 of the American population into compliance to a federal mandate, and against their Catholic conscience. This is brutal totalitarianism that we sought to avoid when our forefathers made their way to America in the first place. It was religious liberty that was the reason why this country began in the first place. Escape from a nasty monarchy that was limiting the religious lives of every man, woman, and child who sought out and paid with their lives the very soil we stand upon today. If Obama realizes what a crime against the Constitution he is making, he is showing that he simply doesn't care.<br />
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But you know, there's another layer to this too. If I were sitting in any pew this past weekend as my Bishop's letter were read, and I were an average American Catholic, I would be beyond confused at what I was hearing. I'd be downright dismayed. It would sound to me like the Catholic Church is fine with any procedure that will, by worldly standards, enhance your marital life by artificially limiting the size of your family, but as a whole the Church will not be responsible for the bill. I wonder if any of the liberal priests or the bishop himself got yelled at by the 98% of contracepting couples in our national diocese? The same priests who either remained silent or spoke in support of every couple who struggled with the idea of being open to life and choosing to contracept, sterlize, or abort, rather than follow God's law or the Church's teaching. The same Bishops seem chagrined to speak out against the President, I would be too if I were in their shoes, as it has been estimated that 80% of the Bishops voted that man into office in the first place. And where was the Bishop, or at the very least, the Pastor of Kathleen Sibelius, she who claims to be Catholic on the teachings of the Church long before she penned a law blatantly against same said teaching? Where are the men of the Church? And if they are here now, where in the Hell were they UP TO NOW?!?<br />
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I'm looking back at those statistics. 98% of all Catholic women have at one time contracepted. One in 4 Catholic women have had an abortion. One in 2 Catholic men are sterilized. Those numbers alone are scandalizing. And yes, I choose my words carefully. You bet I do. The "great scandal" was not nearly of this proportion. Less than 4% of Priests are accused of pedophilia, and that great plague has traumatized the Catholic Church across this nation. It has single-handedly shut down Churches, ruined Dioceses, ruptured the relationship between a Bishop and his Priests, while withholding and manipulation the organic relationship between a pastor and his people. Everyone is guilty until proven innocent. Volunteers in the Church are no more, unless they want to give ALL of their personal information to some bureaucrat behind a desk. 4% of men ruined the Church by hurting children. 98% of laypeople contracept children out of existence and no one bats an eye. That is a great scandal my friend. And now, we must either turn into the biggest hypocrites of our time, and admit that we are no less than money changers in the Temple, or we must change. We must regard human life as precious and relegated only in the Sacrament of Marriage, or we must admit that we no longer hold the Truths of Catholic Church, and stop hiding in the shadows. Why proclaim in the light what we do not practice in the dark? President Obama, and more directly Kathleen Sibelius, are only trying to get the Catholic Church to make a choice. Either live the Faith that we profess or abandon it and embrace this law.<br />
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I fast and pray that we make the right decision. Our religious freedom is now in danger. And yet, what was being preached outside the field of view of the tabernacle has endangered the souls of almost every Catholic in America up until this point.PattyinCThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04286757995048861826noreply@blogger.com2