So, I'm sorry its been so long since I've last posted...
In the words of Inigo Montoya, "Let me recap..No wait...Let me sum up."
We sold our home A LOT quicker than we thought we would. So we've been scrambling to find a house so that we could close on this place and close on that place in the same day. Well, the margin within that would feasably happen has come and gone, so now we've gone on to plan B...And then plan C...And D...And E...Okay, its been a roller coaster ride!
I've officially decided that I don't like AND I don't understand short sales. Our hopes have been dashed on one, it looks like we're about to be taken down by another. The banks, the realtors, no one in this Union understands what a short sale, and all these cooks who don't know how to read the recipe are in the kitchen! *sigh* so glad I got that off my chest.
So much has happened this past summer. I wish I could catch everyone up on it now, but I think I'll just pick up and move on from here, and work the details into my future posts.
Know that I've been thinking and praying for you all! I can't wait to catch up on all the blog reading I've missed!!!
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
I'm Alive!!
Sorry I've not written. There's a ton going on right now, but I will catch up with you guys soon! Promise!
Friday, July 29, 2011
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Old MacDonald
So this is part prayer request, part ponderance on my part.
Mike and I are looking at houses. It's time. I'm sure some of my longer followers remember my first posts about getting a house. Well, we're back baby! There's a children's book that my mother used to read me called "It Could Always be Worse". It's a Jewish proverb about a man who goes to see a rabbi because his house has become too crowded. One by one, the rabbi instructs the man to bring his farm animals into the house to live with his family. It gets worse and worse, until the man almost breaks. Then the rabbi has the man put the animals back in the barn and for the first time in weeks, the family has a peaceful and quiet evening.
I think this is the story that God has played out in my family life thus far. We don't have farm animals (we have a cat), but we have 5 children in 900 square feet with 2 bedrooms. It would be okay as we've given up our room to the girls so that the 3 boys and 2 girls can sleep in separate rooms. But now that Mike works from home, he has taken over my kitchen during the day (which also doubles as my school room when the fall comes) to conduct his business. Being confined to the living room (and quiet with my 5 children who are all under 7) during the day has made me want to go visit that rabbi myself!
So this insane idea has popped into my head. Very soon we will list this tiny gem on the market, and will venture forth into the great unknown. The market is poor right now. I understand that we might lose on the house a little bit. But we need space, and we stand the chance of grabbing that right now, more than ever before.
CT is an expensive state, the second highest for gas right now. It's an expensive state to live, much less raise a large family. But the nature of Mike's business is such that we can't uproot and find our family's means somewhere else. The economy is such that we recognize Mike's ability to support us with this new business for what it is: a miraculous blessing.
So I thought to myself, in my quest for a house, that I would take whatever God would send, we're not picky. I told my realtor up front that we'll trade space for upgrades. And that if the house is small but on a larger chunk of land, that might be okay too. If we ever wanted to do an addition, it would need the land to afford the zoning for that. And now is the time to make that kind of investment, if we're ever going to do it.
And then, I started to grow these ideas in my head...What if? What if I started a small farm on the property? I've had good luck in the past with a garden. I owned horses and did 4H when I was a kid. I've "worked the land" as any decent Connecticutan can claim to have done. And besides a farm offers so many benefits - ESPECIALLY with a large family. And as I look out over our national horizon, I'm thinking now is more the time than ever to try and become self-sufficient.
But that's where my encouragement ends. I have to will myself now to get outside and mow the lawn, and tend to our pool. I still have yet to weed my flower beds, and if it weren't for the showings, that project might not get done this year. I don't know if its because my heart has given up on this temporary dwelling, and I'm in a passive sit out on this place, or if its because...I'm not meant to be a farmer...
In theory, I know what it entails. But in theory, I know what it rewards. In one word: Independence.
Pray for me, and please if you have advice share? I'm seriously considering this next step and would love whatever light in the dark you may be able to shine my way?
Mike and I are looking at houses. It's time. I'm sure some of my longer followers remember my first posts about getting a house. Well, we're back baby! There's a children's book that my mother used to read me called "It Could Always be Worse". It's a Jewish proverb about a man who goes to see a rabbi because his house has become too crowded. One by one, the rabbi instructs the man to bring his farm animals into the house to live with his family. It gets worse and worse, until the man almost breaks. Then the rabbi has the man put the animals back in the barn and for the first time in weeks, the family has a peaceful and quiet evening.
I think this is the story that God has played out in my family life thus far. We don't have farm animals (we have a cat), but we have 5 children in 900 square feet with 2 bedrooms. It would be okay as we've given up our room to the girls so that the 3 boys and 2 girls can sleep in separate rooms. But now that Mike works from home, he has taken over my kitchen during the day (which also doubles as my school room when the fall comes) to conduct his business. Being confined to the living room (and quiet with my 5 children who are all under 7) during the day has made me want to go visit that rabbi myself!
So this insane idea has popped into my head. Very soon we will list this tiny gem on the market, and will venture forth into the great unknown. The market is poor right now. I understand that we might lose on the house a little bit. But we need space, and we stand the chance of grabbing that right now, more than ever before.
CT is an expensive state, the second highest for gas right now. It's an expensive state to live, much less raise a large family. But the nature of Mike's business is such that we can't uproot and find our family's means somewhere else. The economy is such that we recognize Mike's ability to support us with this new business for what it is: a miraculous blessing.
So I thought to myself, in my quest for a house, that I would take whatever God would send, we're not picky. I told my realtor up front that we'll trade space for upgrades. And that if the house is small but on a larger chunk of land, that might be okay too. If we ever wanted to do an addition, it would need the land to afford the zoning for that. And now is the time to make that kind of investment, if we're ever going to do it.
And then, I started to grow these ideas in my head...What if? What if I started a small farm on the property? I've had good luck in the past with a garden. I owned horses and did 4H when I was a kid. I've "worked the land" as any decent Connecticutan can claim to have done. And besides a farm offers so many benefits - ESPECIALLY with a large family. And as I look out over our national horizon, I'm thinking now is more the time than ever to try and become self-sufficient.
But that's where my encouragement ends. I have to will myself now to get outside and mow the lawn, and tend to our pool. I still have yet to weed my flower beds, and if it weren't for the showings, that project might not get done this year. I don't know if its because my heart has given up on this temporary dwelling, and I'm in a passive sit out on this place, or if its because...I'm not meant to be a farmer...
In theory, I know what it entails. But in theory, I know what it rewards. In one word: Independence.
Pray for me, and please if you have advice share? I'm seriously considering this next step and would love whatever light in the dark you may be able to shine my way?
Monday, July 18, 2011
Friday, July 15, 2011
Catholic 'Mantras'
I hate to mix it up here on theologies...But you all know what I'm meaning here. Those Catholic 'mantras'...Those faith 'action statements'...Those 'words to live by' that become the slogans of our Faith...
For example, when I was growing up there was the bracelet campaign of "WWJD"..."What would Jesus Do?" It was to compel us onward in our Christianity to do as Jesus would. It wasn't until I traveled further in my Faith that I realized there was no human way for me to do that. Jesus was God. I most definitely am not. And even though I can do things with the power of His name, I will never be able to completely do what Jesus did. That start my own campaign. Instead of "WWJD" I live by "WWJHMD" "What would Jesus have me do?" It's a subtle difference but its really helping my Messiah complex:)
Then there's the newer one in my life: Be like Mary. Mary, the one who bore Christ, and surrendered everything to her Son even unto the Cross. I can't even stand to watch my sons fall down, let alone be stretched out on a cross. I try and fail to be Mary in my home all the time, and its created a conflict in me. Mary was all humility, I'm constantly reminded in my struggles with pride. But I remind my more meek stay at home Mom friends - Mary was also known to crush snakes. She was humble, not a pushover. In this journey I'm finding it best to say, I am definitely not Mary. Mary was perfect. I am not. And that is the most humbling aspect of Mary that I've grown to love:)
For example, when I was growing up there was the bracelet campaign of "WWJD"..."What would Jesus Do?" It was to compel us onward in our Christianity to do as Jesus would. It wasn't until I traveled further in my Faith that I realized there was no human way for me to do that. Jesus was God. I most definitely am not. And even though I can do things with the power of His name, I will never be able to completely do what Jesus did. That start my own campaign. Instead of "WWJD" I live by "WWJHMD" "What would Jesus have me do?" It's a subtle difference but its really helping my Messiah complex:)
Then there's the newer one in my life: Be like Mary. Mary, the one who bore Christ, and surrendered everything to her Son even unto the Cross. I can't even stand to watch my sons fall down, let alone be stretched out on a cross. I try and fail to be Mary in my home all the time, and its created a conflict in me. Mary was all humility, I'm constantly reminded in my struggles with pride. But I remind my more meek stay at home Mom friends - Mary was also known to crush snakes. She was humble, not a pushover. In this journey I'm finding it best to say, I am definitely not Mary. Mary was perfect. I am not. And that is the most humbling aspect of Mary that I've grown to love:)
Thursday, July 14, 2011
The Story of Us...Cont'd
This is Part 2 of my vocation story. Be sure to read "The Story of Us" first so that you can 'jump right in'!
There's a country song (why is it ALWAYS a country song??;) that says "God bless the broken road that led me straight to you." Well, this is the second half about my better half. And how God brought us back together.
I must back up about a year before I left off. It was a beautiful September day. I was standing outside the Student Center with my 'friends' smoking a cig. before class. Out of the blue, a young man walked up to me, a mutual friend of Mike and I, a blast from the past of our high school dating circle. I had never seen him on campus before that day. I would never see him on campus after that day either. We exchanged small talk and scanty catch ups on the last 3 years. Then he leveled with me.
"Patty, have you heard about Mike's mom?"
I shook my head in stunned silence.
"She's been battling cancer for a little while now, she doesn't have much time left. I just thought you'd want to know in case you wanted to get a hold of Mike." My heart ached as I knew that was out of the question.
I got home that evening. There was a voice on the machine. Another blast from the past in a mutual friend who had called to let me know that Mike's mom had passed that day. He left the times for the wake and the funeral. Wished me well. Hung up. Punched me in the stomach from 40 miles away. I was reeling. What could I do? "God, you made it clear to me...You wanted him...Not me...Why did you do this now? And what can you possibly want me to do in this mess? Now?" I knew what I had to do.
I missed the wake. My mom sat with me and had a coffee that evening and noticed that I seemed 'tired'. You know that's Mom code for "what's really bothering you, my child?" I poured out all of it, and told her I just had to go to that funeral. She said that yes, I needed to go to that funeral.
I snuck into the funeral just before it started. My mom had come with me, and another friend from my past, of course mutual friends with Mike, sat with me and consoled me. I glanced up in the Church I had abandoned as I slunk to a pew and noticed I was sitting under the stained glass of the weeping women. I looked across the aisle about 4 pews in front of me to see about 20 seminarians there for Mike. Great, God. That's just great. I had to be strong. For what, I couldn't possibly know. Then the procession began. There was Mike's Dad, escorted in by his loving family. His sisters in the comforting arms of their husbands. His brother with his wife and son surrounding him. And then, there was Mike. Alone. So completely alone. "This is JUST NOT FAIR!!!" What I thought was already broken in me that day broke even more, and I could hardly stand for his sorrow. For his pain.
The funeral flew by. I could not really pay attention. I was so confused by it all. I mustered the courage to stand in the receiving line. I was bolstered by the warm reception I got from both of Mike's sisters. I needed that courage to approach the honor guard of seminarians surrounding Mike. My blasted red hair. They zoned right in on me and knew who I was. The devil child. I cautiously entered their sanctuary to where Mike was. He saw me, and broke down. We rushed to each other, and I couldn't let go. We were both sobbing, and judging from the frustration on his classmate's expressions, we all knew why.
It was a pleasant afternoon, but sadly it remained just one more piece of the puzzle, as I did not attempt to re-connect with him. I let him go. He back to his world. Me back to mine.
Fast forward to the vortex that sucked me in and spat me out, homeless, friendless, and having to rush back to the refuge of my mother's home. Depleted of everything I just wanted to die, to crawl under a rock to avoid the world's taunts as it continued to turn. We stopped for dinner on the way home from my apartment eviction, I couldn't eat a bite. I was so upset. My Dad had come with us, as he was in town for my sister's wedding which would be that coming weekend. Great. Yet another: Great.
We got home and I noticed there were about 12 hang up calls on my Mom's answering machine. During dinner, my Mom had complained how some kids were having a great time prank calling her house. Wanting to be proactive in disturbing someone, I took this on as my mission. "Mom! Tomorrow I'm calling the phone company and having it out!! Who leaves 12 hang ups on a machine??? Those kids are going to GET IT!!" It would wait as we all retired to bed. Just in time for the phone to ring. I jumped out of bed and in my most menacing voice said, "Hello?!?"
"Uh, hi Patty. Uh. It's me Mike. I was just wondering if you'd go with me for a cup of coffee."
"Tonight? Like right now? It's like 10 at night, Mike."
"I know. Well, there's got to be a good coffee shop near you? I'll come up that way."
(Pause. Pause. Pause. My mind just could not comprehend what was going on.)
"There's some stuff I need to talk to you about and I'd like to see you in person."
"That should be okay. There's a Denny's that's open 24 hours down the road. I need to borrow my Mom's car, but I should be able to get there." (Yeah, in addition to my drama, my car, fully loaded with all my stuff from my old apartment, had died in the parking lot on my getaway from the ex boyfriend. Ugh.)
"Thanks Patty, I'll be there as soon as I can."
I ran in my Mom's room and gently woke her. "Mom, Mike asked me to meet him at Denny's for coffee, can I borrow the car?"
She sat straight up, with a cucumber/avocado mask on and bloodshot eyes, she looked at me pointedly. Her only answer, in her mentally clear, sleep-drunken stupor was "I cannot afford another wedding at this time."
I knew that wasn't the answer. Mike had been tapped by the Bishop to head over to Rome to continue his Priestly studies. I knew this was about my final farewell, and we were going to tie up loose ends before he left. I casually got ready to go. Mike lived 45 minutes from the Denny's and I lived a mile. I had time. About 20 minutes later I headed out the door. In the garage, I saw my moving boxes. On the top of the pile was a journal I had been keeping for Mike of all my journeys since we broke up that fateful summer following my senior year of high school. He was leaving. I was giving it to him as my parting gift. It was only appropriate.
I showed up at Denny's 5 minutes later. He was there, waiting for me. We exchanged awkward 'hellos' and grabbed a booth towards the back of the restaurant. We started small talk and I told him the basics of school, not wanting to offload the day from hell that I had just lived through. I asked him how school was going.
"Well. Uh. You see. There's this ceremony that I have to attend in front of the Bishop. The one where I give my consent to continue my program of study, and I have to do it before heading to Rome."
I wasn't really paying attention. "Wow, that's great Mike. If you want me there, I'll do my best to get there."
"Well, I can't do it." At this point, Mike just stopped and looked at me.
"Oh! Well, is it in Italian? Maybe I can help you with the pronunciation? Or in Latin? I'd be happy to help you memorize your responses. It can't be too hard Mike."
"No, its not that."
"Well, it is Rome. The farthest you've ever been from home. I can understand why you're nervous."
"No, its nothing like that either."
"Well, for goodness sake Mike! What in the world is going on with you?!?"
"I can't go through with it...Because...Because I'm still in love with you."
There it was, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, something right broke within me. I felt those walls which I had so fastidiously worked to create for years crumble down, and the healing touch of love and grace and mercy come flooding over me. I was overwhelmed. I reached for him. It was a moment of great truth. A moment that could not be ruined by pretense.
"Mike. I don't know what to say. There's so much. So much. That you don't know. I've changed. I may not be the person you remember. I've done so many things. You may not want me for all that I have done. For the ways in which I have changed."
The love in his eyes begged to differ, and 10 years later this August, it's still there whenever Mike looks at me. God brought us back together, and we haven't been the same since. Which is such a great thing! Alas, I have yet to tell you my engagement story! LOL! But that will have to be another day. For this is the beginning of "the Story of Us":)
There's a country song (why is it ALWAYS a country song??;) that says "God bless the broken road that led me straight to you." Well, this is the second half about my better half. And how God brought us back together.
I must back up about a year before I left off. It was a beautiful September day. I was standing outside the Student Center with my 'friends' smoking a cig. before class. Out of the blue, a young man walked up to me, a mutual friend of Mike and I, a blast from the past of our high school dating circle. I had never seen him on campus before that day. I would never see him on campus after that day either. We exchanged small talk and scanty catch ups on the last 3 years. Then he leveled with me.
"Patty, have you heard about Mike's mom?"
I shook my head in stunned silence.
"She's been battling cancer for a little while now, she doesn't have much time left. I just thought you'd want to know in case you wanted to get a hold of Mike." My heart ached as I knew that was out of the question.
I got home that evening. There was a voice on the machine. Another blast from the past in a mutual friend who had called to let me know that Mike's mom had passed that day. He left the times for the wake and the funeral. Wished me well. Hung up. Punched me in the stomach from 40 miles away. I was reeling. What could I do? "God, you made it clear to me...You wanted him...Not me...Why did you do this now? And what can you possibly want me to do in this mess? Now?" I knew what I had to do.
I missed the wake. My mom sat with me and had a coffee that evening and noticed that I seemed 'tired'. You know that's Mom code for "what's really bothering you, my child?" I poured out all of it, and told her I just had to go to that funeral. She said that yes, I needed to go to that funeral.
I snuck into the funeral just before it started. My mom had come with me, and another friend from my past, of course mutual friends with Mike, sat with me and consoled me. I glanced up in the Church I had abandoned as I slunk to a pew and noticed I was sitting under the stained glass of the weeping women. I looked across the aisle about 4 pews in front of me to see about 20 seminarians there for Mike. Great, God. That's just great. I had to be strong. For what, I couldn't possibly know. Then the procession began. There was Mike's Dad, escorted in by his loving family. His sisters in the comforting arms of their husbands. His brother with his wife and son surrounding him. And then, there was Mike. Alone. So completely alone. "This is JUST NOT FAIR!!!" What I thought was already broken in me that day broke even more, and I could hardly stand for his sorrow. For his pain.
The funeral flew by. I could not really pay attention. I was so confused by it all. I mustered the courage to stand in the receiving line. I was bolstered by the warm reception I got from both of Mike's sisters. I needed that courage to approach the honor guard of seminarians surrounding Mike. My blasted red hair. They zoned right in on me and knew who I was. The devil child. I cautiously entered their sanctuary to where Mike was. He saw me, and broke down. We rushed to each other, and I couldn't let go. We were both sobbing, and judging from the frustration on his classmate's expressions, we all knew why.
It was a pleasant afternoon, but sadly it remained just one more piece of the puzzle, as I did not attempt to re-connect with him. I let him go. He back to his world. Me back to mine.
Fast forward to the vortex that sucked me in and spat me out, homeless, friendless, and having to rush back to the refuge of my mother's home. Depleted of everything I just wanted to die, to crawl under a rock to avoid the world's taunts as it continued to turn. We stopped for dinner on the way home from my apartment eviction, I couldn't eat a bite. I was so upset. My Dad had come with us, as he was in town for my sister's wedding which would be that coming weekend. Great. Yet another: Great.
We got home and I noticed there were about 12 hang up calls on my Mom's answering machine. During dinner, my Mom had complained how some kids were having a great time prank calling her house. Wanting to be proactive in disturbing someone, I took this on as my mission. "Mom! Tomorrow I'm calling the phone company and having it out!! Who leaves 12 hang ups on a machine??? Those kids are going to GET IT!!" It would wait as we all retired to bed. Just in time for the phone to ring. I jumped out of bed and in my most menacing voice said, "Hello?!?"
"Uh, hi Patty. Uh. It's me Mike. I was just wondering if you'd go with me for a cup of coffee."
"Tonight? Like right now? It's like 10 at night, Mike."
"I know. Well, there's got to be a good coffee shop near you? I'll come up that way."
(Pause. Pause. Pause. My mind just could not comprehend what was going on.)
"There's some stuff I need to talk to you about and I'd like to see you in person."
"That should be okay. There's a Denny's that's open 24 hours down the road. I need to borrow my Mom's car, but I should be able to get there." (Yeah, in addition to my drama, my car, fully loaded with all my stuff from my old apartment, had died in the parking lot on my getaway from the ex boyfriend. Ugh.)
"Thanks Patty, I'll be there as soon as I can."
I ran in my Mom's room and gently woke her. "Mom, Mike asked me to meet him at Denny's for coffee, can I borrow the car?"
She sat straight up, with a cucumber/avocado mask on and bloodshot eyes, she looked at me pointedly. Her only answer, in her mentally clear, sleep-drunken stupor was "I cannot afford another wedding at this time."
I knew that wasn't the answer. Mike had been tapped by the Bishop to head over to Rome to continue his Priestly studies. I knew this was about my final farewell, and we were going to tie up loose ends before he left. I casually got ready to go. Mike lived 45 minutes from the Denny's and I lived a mile. I had time. About 20 minutes later I headed out the door. In the garage, I saw my moving boxes. On the top of the pile was a journal I had been keeping for Mike of all my journeys since we broke up that fateful summer following my senior year of high school. He was leaving. I was giving it to him as my parting gift. It was only appropriate.
I showed up at Denny's 5 minutes later. He was there, waiting for me. We exchanged awkward 'hellos' and grabbed a booth towards the back of the restaurant. We started small talk and I told him the basics of school, not wanting to offload the day from hell that I had just lived through. I asked him how school was going.
"Well. Uh. You see. There's this ceremony that I have to attend in front of the Bishop. The one where I give my consent to continue my program of study, and I have to do it before heading to Rome."
I wasn't really paying attention. "Wow, that's great Mike. If you want me there, I'll do my best to get there."
"Well, I can't do it." At this point, Mike just stopped and looked at me.
"Oh! Well, is it in Italian? Maybe I can help you with the pronunciation? Or in Latin? I'd be happy to help you memorize your responses. It can't be too hard Mike."
"No, its not that."
"Well, it is Rome. The farthest you've ever been from home. I can understand why you're nervous."
"No, its nothing like that either."
"Well, for goodness sake Mike! What in the world is going on with you?!?"
"I can't go through with it...Because...Because I'm still in love with you."
There it was, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, something right broke within me. I felt those walls which I had so fastidiously worked to create for years crumble down, and the healing touch of love and grace and mercy come flooding over me. I was overwhelmed. I reached for him. It was a moment of great truth. A moment that could not be ruined by pretense.
"Mike. I don't know what to say. There's so much. So much. That you don't know. I've changed. I may not be the person you remember. I've done so many things. You may not want me for all that I have done. For the ways in which I have changed."
The love in his eyes begged to differ, and 10 years later this August, it's still there whenever Mike looks at me. God brought us back together, and we haven't been the same since. Which is such a great thing! Alas, I have yet to tell you my engagement story! LOL! But that will have to be another day. For this is the beginning of "the Story of Us":)
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