An Open Letter of Contrition
Lord, I am so sorry. I know I have said time and time and time and time again, that I would not wander around the world wide web. But I did. I was “bored” and really, if I had been doing all the things I should have and could have been doing, “bored” would be an obscure word in my momma vocabulary.
Me, wandering around the web is like my teens horsing around an open over door…they know they shouldn’t. My older children know what can happen, just like I know what can happen following clicks I have no business following. And I wonder if You feel the same way I would feel if one of my children messed around and got hurt? My heart would be breaking for their injury and I’d want to do something to take the pain away from them. But I would also remind them, “This is why we don’t do that. There are consequences for doing what you are not supposed to be doing and ignoring what you should be doing.” Is that how You feel right about now with me God?
Lord, how many times have we been here? I know me. You know me. We both know the “what if worries” I battle. The last time…and the time before that…and the time before that…and the time before that…when I stumbled onto something that caused me to lose my peace, I promised I would not do that again. But I do…and I always regret it. And I did and I immediately started praying for holy forgetfulness. I wanted to bleach my mind Lord. I wanted to forget the tragic news I only read the headline to. The headline Lord, that’s all I read…and that was waaaaayyyy to much for me. I knew better Lord. And I’m sorry.
A simple headline made up of a dozen or less words, that’s all it takes to send me into a frenzied game of “what if…” and “but…” And guess who else knows that besides You and me…yep, the enemy of my heart, mind and soul. He was just waiting around for an opportune time, another chance at me. And I walked right into it Lord. I walked right into the ever open oven door and got burned.
Here’s the thing Lord, I want to live a joy filled life. I want to life an abundant life and that will not happen wandering around the internet. It just won’t! I can fool myself into thinking all the lovely scripture quotes on Pinterest are the equivalent of actually reading Your Word…but it isn’t. I can pretend researching a better way to cook, clean, organize, homeschool, and pray will actually translate into hours spent doing the very thing…but it won’t. What I’m doing each and every click I follow, or each time I make a visit to an old homeschooling board I haven’t been on in a while, what I’m doing Lord is wasting my precious God given time. Time You have given me to know, love and serve You and to teach You to this house full of kids. I am wasting my time walking through a war zone for my mind wearing a big ‘ol bulls-eye.
I’m sorry Lord. I’m sorry for wasting my time…Your time. I’m sorry for the sin of sloth and unnecessary curiosity that always gets me into the pit meant for my destruction. Lord, I pray for that hurting family. And I pray for myself. I pray for the grace necessary to reset my mind. I pray for fortitude to do what I am supposed to do…all for Your glory.
Philippians 4:8–Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.
Jot It Down!
Jot it down! That is one of my mother’s favorite lines, and my grandfather’s before her. All that I am going to say now is that it would do me well to say that often enough to myself.
Jot it down! That is what a high-pitched and urgent voice inside me says every time I read about something from the Internet that I can use to make the house a little more cheerful-looking, my prayer time richer, my children better-fed, our homeschooling recordkeeping more updated, and my sewing stash more attended to. So much computer time can actually go to waste if I don’t hold on tightly to what I had learned, and use them in my family’s daily life.
Jot it down! That is what I have to do.
So I gathered an old notebook, leftover gift wrapper, a piece of art paper, and a scrapbooking sticker that nobody seemed to want… and transformed those to something I can use to jot my cyberspace learnings on.
I divided my cyberspace learnings notebook (my fancy name for an ideas log) into several pages each for FAITH, HOUSEHOLD, CHILDREN, SCHOOL, and SEWING.
The contents of my cyberspace learnings notebook will feed into my prayer journal, our weekly menu, planning for liturgical living and outdoor activities, and a host of other aspects of living and loving.
The notebook’s major advantage over a Word or Notepad file is that I can have it with me all the time, giving me the chance to go over my notes whenever I need to. I also prefer my notebook to keeping Favorites and Bookmarks because I tend to keep too many of those and eventually get overwhelmed. What goes into my notebook are selected and processed in my head before before being jotted down. It’s a quality control tool, I guess.
Keeping the notebook beside me during my time at the computer will also remind me that if I have less and less to write on my notebook, maybe I am using my computer time the wrong way. Or I already have enough on my plate and I am just wandering aimlessly in cyberspace.
Do you have an ideas notebook?
How do you make sure that information
acquired during your cyberspace time bear fruit?
Marcia has five reasons to wake up in the morning — the man of her dreams and the four children that God gave them. She constantly wishes for a cleaner and more orderly home, but understands that this goal needs constant tweaking. One day, she will devote a lot of time to her sewing. She just hopes that she is not yet arthritic or half-blind by then! Marcia blogs at Imperfectly Living a Dream.
When Quality Trumps
Theresa Thomas | Everyday Catholic
The Mister and I just had a romantic dinner in the basement, served by two little girls. The main course was Fisher Price peas and pizza, real water from a sturdy, plastic teapot and Cheez-Its. We were entertained by music playing on daddy’s cell phone and the evening ended with a rousing rendition of The Village People’s “YMCA”. Yes of course we danced with the waitresses.
Planning doesn’t create spontaneous family moments like these; so often these special moments just ‘happen’, when availability meets creativity and openness. Even if we were to have tried to design this quality evening, likely it wouldn’t have come off like the spontaneous one did. “Mommy! Daddy! Come downstairs! We have a surprise!” interjected itself into my husband’s and my evening like an unexpected kiss. Planning is all fine and dandy but you simply can’t blueprint everything in real life.
Thank goodness.
Unprompted, sweet, relationship-building moments that occur from spending a quantity amount of time with those we love form the basis of daily family life. We often hear the phrase “quality time” tossed about, as though it were separate from quantity time, and something to be aspired to independently from abundant hours, days and weeks. In reality, however, quantity time trumps the often aimed-for quality time any day, for ironically when opportunities are plentiful quality time appears, and takes care of itself.
One of the best gifts Catholic (or any) parents can offer their children is the generous giving of their time. In forty years, it won’t matter to a child that his dad earned more than enough to purchase a huge entertainment center for the basement if by doing so it meant his father’s absence in working weekends, evenings and other spare moments. The extra vacation, boat or address in a premier neighborhood means less to a child than backyard ball tosses with Dad on a regular basis or the daily relaxed interaction with a present and loving Mom.
Many parents must work long hours to provide necessities for their families. They are to be admired. But there is a prevalent notion in modern society that certain things are necessities when in truth they are not. We must distinguish between the two. Some parents fall into the trap of thinking their children need more things than they really do: electronics gadgets, the latest and greatest toy or in-style clothing. The truth is, so long as a child’s basic needs are met, he is generally happy and will thrive. Luxuries like 4-H membership, swim team involvement, baseball or dance class can be good and enriching, for sure, helping a child develop his or her particular talents, but their importance is significantly less than simple one-on-one attention that a parent offers to his child. As we all know, true happiness and the ability to become one’s best possible self comes from nurturing, love and attention, not stuff, even good stuff.
Giving time is a challenge for sure. Beds must be made. Meals must be cooked. Clothes must be folded and clutter put away. Money must be earned to provide basic needs. But nothing is more important than scooping up the little one tugging at your sleeve, hugging her and showing her the bird perched out the window, and listening to the expressions of the little thoughts on her mind. When children arrive home from school one of the parents needs to be there, waiting, ready for that quality time that might pop up anywhere, at any moment. Nothing says love like our presence.
Yesterday, I was reading a science book about earthworms with my 8-year-old daughter. My girl begged to put on our boots and go into the garden to dig. She wanted to find worms to put in a glass jar and observe. I didn’t want to go. I was comfortable. I had a schedule. It was wet and icky outside. I am not a fan of worms. But I looked at my daughter, imagining the day she’ll leave for college. I wanted to give her another memory and another token of my love in this fast changing life of ours. I said ‘yes.’ We sloshed through the mud surrounded by misty air and the smell of the spring earth. My daughter tried to coax the worms, “Come on little guy” as she poked gently with a stick. We giggled. We sang a few songs. Quality emerged from quantity. Again.
We parents give our children many gifts. We work hard to provide safe homes for them. Good meals for them. Warm clothes and learning experiences. This is how we demonstrate unselfish love to our children. In our parental caring, however, we should remember: the gift of our time and ourselves is actually the most thoughtful and best gift of all.
was About.com’s “Best Catholic Book” of 2010. Her second book Big Hearted: Inspiring Stories from Everyday Families
is due out from Scepter Publishers in 2013. She has been heard on local and national radio programs including EWTN’s Sonrise Morning Show with Brian Patrcik and Ave Maria’s Catholic Connection with Teresa Tomeo. You can find her blogging at Theresa Thomas: Everyday Catholic.
Quiet Time
In the early years of our homeschooling, this overwhelmed teacher-mom needed to take a daily siesta to restore her strength and energy. My children, however, fought, kicked, and screamed when asked to take afternoon naps, so my own naps were anything but restorative.
And that was how our quiet time rule came about. We were all required to spend thirty minutes after lunch in our rooms and, well, keep quiet. Sleep was recommended but not required. That we live in the tropics, where siestas can make a difference for the rest of one’s day, nevertheless cemented the rule.
I remember Only Son spending the time working on his Lego projects. Second Daughter would occasionally join him. I don’t remember now how Eldest Daughter and Youngest Daughter spent their quiet times, but yes, they did keep quiet. I slept soundly and woke up refreshed.
We have since fell off the quiet-time rule. It is difficult to do some tracing back, but I am assuming that the children, maturing and in need of less supervision, eventually went about their affairs more sensitive of how they may disturb the routines of the rest of the family. They have also outgrown noisy games and horsing around. I, myself, do not always need daily afternoon naps now. Sometimes coffee or a sewing project occupies me.
For another reason, though, I would like to renew the quiet time practice (it won’t be a rule now 
).
At midday, it is good to gather one’s self, renew one’s peace, and refocus on the day’s goals and tasks. Oftentimes, we feel like calling it a day long before the correct chronological end. But if we pick up our patience and get back to work, we would be closer to a well-deserved end and to a fine offering to Him who generously gifted us with the day at hand.
Let nothing perturb you, nothing frighten you. God does not change. Patience achieves everything.
Second Daughter has a special devotion to saying the Angelus at noon. I cannot think of a better way to start a midday quiet time. The rest of the quiet time is really up to the individual.
For myself, I would like to do some spiritual reading first. Tackling a book in big chunks of time is almost impossible for us moms, but if we read 15 minutes or so daily, I believe that we can do better-quality reflection, and with some consistency, finish a book.
Somebody once suggested doing a mini-examination of conscience at midday. That leaves you still a half-day to renew resolves and correct whatever needs correcting. I think that would be good to do after the spiritual reading. It won’t even take five minutes!
Then it is a really good idea to set up the kitchen for dinner preps — change the kitchen towels, bring out the chopping board and place it on your work surface with the garlic, onions, and other ingredients, bring out the pans, scoop rice onto the rice cooker, and other seemingly small tasks that would actually make dinner preparation a few hours later less stressful and more fun.
Then I may or may not have a cup of coffee while adding twenty or thirty stitches to my current sewing project.
And if at the end of my quiet time, I feel some need for siesta, well, I will just go for it!
How do you recharge at midday?
Do you have a quiet time, too?
Marcia has five reasons to wake up in the morning — the man of her dreams and the four children that God gave them. She constantly wishes for a cleaner and more orderly home, but understands that this goal needs constant tweaking. One day, she will devote a lot of time to her sewing. She just hopes that she is not yet half-blind or arthritic then! She blogs at Imperfectly Living a Dream.
Moments of Grace
I feel like maybe I’ve fallen off the face of the world. I’m positive my friends feel the same. The deal is, my world has suddenly had to get very small. And that’s ok right now.
I am almost finished with 9th grade and let me tell you, the first time around it was not this hard helping Berndette finish her 9th grade year. Helping my other children finish up 1st, 3rd, 5th and 7th grade. Leo has decided he’s only happy when he’s outside. I’m crocheting a blanket for Chris. (My first blanket and it needs to cover a six foot tall man.) I am working to help prepare three of my children to receive the Sacrament of Confirmation. Soccer season for six children is wrapping up. First Communion is Sunday. Maximilian turns five the end of the month and is needing some extra attention and Lucy the dog is chewing up everything…including library books, the outside of the house, anything she can sneak in the garage to quickly grab, gardening twine for the vegetables to vine up, the garden…We got the bill in from when I had to rush Maximilian into the ER for a breathing treatment when he was struggling with croup. Bernadette got a summer job as a nanny and my three oldest leave for a one week summer camp (we have never gone to camp…or anywhere apart from each other for so long all at once) in one month. Veronica and our friend-neighbor are sewing Bridget’s First Communion dress and then Anna’s Confirmation dress. I need to buy Luke a suit for Confirmation.
There are times I don’t know which way to turn right now. But there’s grace in all these moments of mayhem. And part of the grace is being able to find it, you know. There are a couple of things that are trying to keep me grace-full: daily reading of the Scriptures, intense prayer, and reading 40 Days to a Joy-Filled Life: Living the 48 Principle
A moment of grace is how you decide to view your present circumstances.
I am trying choosing to see the grace in that ridiculuosly comical list above. I am trying choosing to find grace in God’s will, Chris’ will, seven other people’s will. Because if I focused on my will right now, I’d be a walking-talking-whining-complaining-frustrated-unhappy chocolate mess. And that’s not grace-full.
Share your Moments of Grace ladies. I’d love to see how you see God working in your life.
Healing tears
Theresa::my desert heart
As I sit at a weekday Mass with my youngest daughter, I glance over at a young mom holding a newborn with a toddler by her side. I feel a twinge of jealousy…then grief over my last two children lost (waiting in Heaven)…then regret…
…regret that many times…most of the time…I didn’t live in the moment when my older children were just little ones…I took my family for granted…was more concerned with the way my house looked…complained about those greedy nursers…grumbled about lack of sleep…too many toys around the house…no time for myself. I didn’t always bask in those sacred moments of nursing in the night or having a toddler attached to my hip. My faith was not very strong at that time and I did not recognize every moment as a gift. I just rolled my eyes at the repeat comment “Enjoy them while they are young…they grow up so fast.”
Wisdom spoken then ignored. Oh…how I want to shout it from the rooftops now!
My faith did grow stronger…a tiny seed that gradually began to sprout as I came back to my Catholic Faith and its teachings…eventually branching out and up Mt. Carmel.
Youngest daughter was born in 2004 and I looked forward to her birth and infancy with all my heart….vowing not to take a new life for granted…to savor every moment and enjoy her.
Apparently, God wasn’t in on those aspirations I had…maybe I forgot to whisper them to Him?
Youngest daughter screamed from the moment she came into this world and it continued for the first 1 1/2 years of her life. Sensitive to lights, people, noise, unfamiliar places…the slightest change would set her off. She nursed constantly with no satisfaction, she was up a multitude of times during the night, and needed to be swaddled, bounced with the same rhythm, white noise in the background over and over again. It wore…I was frazzled, a thin line to reality on the brink of snapping, sleep deprivation that made my previous insomnia look like dreamland. Her infancy is still a blur and I honestly can’t recall that many enjoyable moments…it was a dark time for me. It was by the grace of God and the support of my husband that I didn’t completely break down and fade away. After some time and prayer, it was again the grace of God that (miraculously) led us to be open to more children although the last two He has taken to Himself before I could hold them.
That little one now brings joy unbridled at 9 years old. I still struggle with living in the moment but she helps anchor me to the wonder of now. And with God’s grace, I am trying to enjoy every fleeting moment with her knowing they will be gone in a blink.
The dynamics of our household have changed drastically in the last 9 years with two in college, another getting ready to head off to college (maybe), all three of them working and youngest daughter entering 4th grade as a homeschooler. They have grown up so fast…too fast. I still have many regrets that wound the soul…many mistakes that I can’t undo…
…these are the heartaches and wounds only God can heal. I come to the tabernacle to be nourished, healed, held in His embrace. He lets me know, the One I struggle to love with my whole soul, that all is forgiven and it is time…time to focus on the present moment…this moment He gives as gift…as grace.
The tears fall…and heal.
“See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland.” ~ Isaiah 43:19
Why I bother cleaning
Theresa/my desert heart
…the bathroom was clean…sparkling faucet, clean sink, white tub, toilet wiped, clear mirror…
I realized, standing there at 6 pm, that I hadn’t been in the upstairs bathroom since I cleaned it at 9:30 am.
And it looked it.
Did I clean the bathroom today or was that yesterday? I look at the children’s books on the floor along with pieces of toilet paper, an empty toilet paper roll, smudges on mirror, toothpaste in sink, linen closet left open as well as the shower curtain thrown carelessly aside…and oh yeah…hair in the drain. What’s the point? I ask myself…why do I bother? *sigh*
I have been tempted to think that as I walk out of confession, after confessing the same fault for the umpteenth time. What’s the point Lord? I am just going to do it again. It’s just going to get dirty again.
Good thing I don’t give into that thinking with my bathroom…or my soul. Imagine the filth!
Regardless of the fact that my soul may be smudged again within a few hours of confession, there has to be a determination to begin again…even if it means a weekly cleansing in the Sacrament of Reconciliation. There has to be hope and perseverence that we will do our best with God’s grace not to commit the same sin again.
We must repeatedly say Nunc coepi…Now I begin.
Some day, my soul won’t get quite as dirty as quickly as it does now. I have hope.
To Pray, To Love, To Teach
Some years ago, Husband and I worked, breaking our backs to pay steep tuition fees, missing out on family dinners and weekends to do overtime work, aghast at what our children were learning — or not learning — and wondering whether indeed that was the way to live.
No, it was not. So I resigned from my job, signed the mandatory quit-claim, and went home. We started our homeschooling journey.
Eldest Daughter is now in the university. Only Son started attending high school outside the home last year. Second Daughter decided to continue being homeschooled until she finishes high school. Hopefully, Youngest Daughter will make the same decision.
These days, I am preparing again for another school year. Curriculum, book lists, planners, records, school supplies, sports activities, and so on. The preparations are not just for the homeschoolers. Eldest Daughter discusses her choices of courses with her father and me, and we give her non-academic advice, such as how to manage her time and maybe, that it is about time for driving lessons? Only Son is also coached on academic and non-academic matters. There is the delicate need to maintain the quality of attention devoted to all of them regardless of how they are schooled.
Did our children learn enough? Will they be at par with other students? These were paramount in our early years of having our children educated or educating them ourselves. They are not anymore. Curriculum, courses, and charts are not the compelling concerns.
Today, I am being led to sit back as I haven’t done so in the past years, distance myself from our home situation, and ask myself other questions.
Are my children happy? Do they feel loved? Have I instilled in them that God is a Father who loves them unconditionally? Will they grow up to be responsible and well-adjusted adults? Will they be faithful to their vocation? Will they merit eternal life?
Honestly? These questions scare me.
In my myopia and narrow-mindedness, I upheld academics in the homeschool over faith in God and growth and serenity in the family. Aware but unmindful that my children needed me as a friend, confidante, and gentle guide, I, instead, played the role of taskmaster. Compliance with checklists and rubrics prevailed over acceptance and encouragement. I was convinced that staring down my children will bring peace and quiet in the family, and when there are peace and quiet, checklists could be ticked off. So I stared them down when I could have lifted them up.
In my pride and arrogance, I thought that as long as I did what I believed was the right thing, God could not not make things right. So I insisted on my ways and negotiated with God on how I had thought my children’s present and future should pan out.
You could have guessed it.
Not all checklists were ticked off. Those that were took so much longer than planned. Our family atmosphere was not even a shadow of what I had dreamed of as a young bride — easy banter, laughter, warmth, fun, acceptance. Today, I can only thank Husband for his valiant balancing efforts.
So while I am sad that I learned my lessons the winding, wasteful, and painful way, I am nevertheless grateful that I learned them.
I learned that it was God who gave me my vocation, so it was to Him that I should have clung to from Day One. The children that He generously gave Husband and me were for loving dearly. And love is patient, kind, and everything else that the Apostle to the Gentiles said so to the Corinthians. If I pray and humbly ask for a true mother’s heart, God will give it to me. A mother’s heart loves and loves unconditionally and untiringly. And only when I truly love will I be capable of teaching my children. Teach them to read, write, and play with numbers, yes. But always and above all, teach them of a God who provides for, guides, and loves them like their mother can never love them.
I learned that with faith and love, parenting and teaching — and learning — will come naturally, as they should indeed come.
When I die and face my Creator, He will not ask me how many checklists I have ticked off, if I chose the toughest curriculum there was, or if my children did well in the SAT. He will ask me if I loved my children, if I spoke to them of a caring and faithful God, if I made their lives on earth a glimpse of Heaven, and if I passionately and relentlessly led them to Eternity.
And because in the very end, it is just me and my God, uh-ah-uum answers will not suffice. It’s just a yes or a no.
So today, I resolve to live in the here and now, beg God in complete trust and humility to steer the course for our family, ask the Blessed Mother to be a companion for our journey, deliberately make our home environment as nourishing, comforting, and edifying as it should be, encourage more and chastise less, give more hugs and avoid dagger looks, laugh more and lecture less, and just rather plainly love my family.
And then — yes, why not — things will fall squarely and snugly into their rightful places.
Marcia has five reasons to wake up in the morning — the man of her dreams and the four children that God gave them. She constantly wishes for a cleaner and more orderly home, but understands that this goal needs constant tweaking. One day, she will devote a lot of time to her sewing. She just hopes that she is not yet half-blind or arthritic then! She blogs at Imperfectly Living a Dream.
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