Merry Christmas Monkeyboy!

Monkeyboy had several gifts under the Christmas tree on Christmas day and we enjoyed labeling them. Maybe we enjoyed it a little too much. He didn't have a single present that was relabeled with the same name. There were gifts labeled to:

Monkeyboy (of course)

Rafiki

Big R

Him-Sir

Ramses

Mister

Pooh-pooh-doo-doo
Scrunch Monkey

We decided that next year we'll label his gifts with:

Poopey (stemming from Pooh-pooh-doo-doo)

PPDD (stemming from Pooh-pooh-doo-doo)

The Big P (also from ppdd - this one got me into all sorts of trouble because I said that was my favorite 'because sometimes I also have to take a big p'. Papa was not impressed, neither was PPDD)

and

Mister Mo' Ron

Merry Flogging Christmas!!!!

Ahhhh. It's here. It's Christmas. It's finally the Christmas season! Boy what a wait it's been.

Did you know... the Christmas season extends until January 9th? That's right bring on the festivities. That being said, the Christmas season can be quite sobering because the first day after Christmas we celebrate the Feast of Saint Stephen who was stoned to death under the witnessing of St. Paul, at the time known as Saul.

Right in the middle of our celebrations is the sobering reminder of what it means to be a disciple of little baby Jesus. You can never separate the cross from His mission.

Did you know...the mid-point of the Christmas season is the Solemnity of Mary on January 1st. That's right the mid-point is New Years' Day. It's not the end. It's the middle.

Did you know...the placing of wreaths on doors was symbolic of martyrdom, a martyrdom for the faith. The name Stephen itself means 'wreath'.

Peachy's pinch-e pots

Seems that Peachy made some pinched pots in her art class. Lucky us now have her 'lovely' pinched pots! Have I mentioned how 'not artsy' I am? When I apply myself, I can appreciate art but even then I miss so much. Perhaps that's why my confessor told me I need to develop that side of me. Eh, crafts are not my thing. I'm so happy for all the crafty moms out there but I ain't one of them. I don't speak that type of mom language and I don't get all gooey looking at her artwork. She however is ever so proud of them.

So this morning when I saw them I asked husband 'What are we going to do with Peachy's pinche (spanish expletive akin to damned) pots?'
So he reminds me ' They are PINCHED pots not pinche pots!'

No, I pretty much think they are what I said they are.

Here's your sign

The priest today pointed something out about Ahaz's refusal to ask for a sign from God (Is 7:10). He didn't ask for a sign because he didn't want to have to look for a sign, much like the people at the butt of Bill Engvall's jokes. Granted asking for a sign from God can be a bit daunting because well, you need to be careful what you ask for because you just might get it. One has to be on alert because God will always answer, just not in the way you think He might.

A friend of mine was discerning the priesthood and he wasn't sure he had a vocation. So he had asked for a sign. He got his sign in the form of a burning barn and barnswallows. You see living out in the country, one day he found himself alone in his parent's farm still unsure of the priesthood. He awoke from a nap badgered by barnswallows. They were chirping and hovering over him. So he got up chased them out of the house which was when he discovered the barn was on fire. Off he rushed. On his arrival he noticed some chicks chirping in the burning barn, the chicks of the barnswallow that had awoken him. As he rescued them, he realized that had he not been there the chicks would have perished in the fire. He connected this incident to his prayers. Internally he just knew he was called to the priesthood because it could be no one else but him to do the mission God had in store for him. God needed him to save souls from the burning fire and gratefully he allowed it.
It's like that for us too. We just need to hope, pray and be alert for the sign because it will come, just not how we imagine it.

God's own fool

"When we in our weakness believed we were strong,

He became helpless to show we were wrong."

I wonder sometimes if God isn't best understood through paradox. I was reminded of this in today's reading from Luke1:5ish where Zechariah questions the angel Gabriel. He asks him how he will know he's to be a father (after the angel announces this will happen - dude, he just told you!). His doubt results in his losing his voice. Perhaps Zechariah was like me speaking much but saying little, who knows? Perhaps his strength was his preaching, his vocal prayers but in his weakness, his inability to speak, emerges God's strength. When he regains his voice, he speaks little but says much. From his silence emerges one of the great prayers of the church. A prayer she prays daily in the morning office, the Canticle of Zechariah.

O come O come Emmanu...Pooh-pooh-doo-doo

Our advent tradition has been to light the advent wreath during meals and sing a short song afterwards. As soon as the song ends, there is a mad dash to blow out the candles, hopefully without 3rd degree burns. If I haven't mentioned before, husband never calls anyone by name. Hence, monkeyboy's pseudonym. Well, he also affectionately calls monkeyboy, 'pooh-pooh-doo-doo'. In fact he loves changing verses while singing at mass just to annoy monkeyboy. So I wasn't surprised when singing O come O come Emmanuel after dinner that he changed the lyrics:

O no here comes pooh-pooh-doo-doo

He doesn't know that he stinks

Beware his stench might make you gag

Until he takes his smelly self a bath

Rejoice! Rejoice! He's found the soap

and now he doesn't smell like a goat

Rejoice! Rejoice! He's found the soap

and now he smells more like the Pope

Yes, well, singing 'O come O come Emmanuel' shall never again be quite the same for me.

"Don't make me angry"

"You wouldn't like me when I'm angry."

Heck I don't like me when I'm angry. I turn into this incredible scum who wants to lose her temper while trying not to lose her temper. It's a battle that I so desperately simultaneously try to lose while fighting to win. Prayer. Prayer is a good thing so I'm told, but during these times it turns into a minefield where I meditate on my anger and I just get angrier. I suppose I should examine the root cause....eventually.

Our Lady is a mother

This photo is of Juan Diego's tilma or apron upon which our Lady miraculously appeared. It is framed and hangs above the altar at the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe in Mexico City. What strikes me as just hilarious of the miraculous story which you can read from iBrievary (from the report of Don Antonio) is that after Juan Diego had met with our Lady a few times, he found himself in a hurry on his next occasion because he was on an errand to find a priest for his ailing uncle. The story continues with: "Juan Diego set out on Tuesday, but he went around the hill and passed on the other side, toward the east, so as to arrive quickly in Mexico City and to avoid being detained by the Heavenly Lady."

Wow, me too buddy. Haven't we all tried to avoid our mothers at one time or another or those women who act like mothers in our life? Don't we dread being detained too or being taken care of when we can do it on our own? I know I do. Women have this henlike characteristic to take care of things for those they love. I despise it, but sometimes I can't avoid doing it. So it's reassuring to me that Our Lady is a nagging mother who won't stop looking out for her children even when her children don't want to have anything to do with her.

The Immaculate Conception

I was musing over today's first reading from Genesis and I found God's response to Eve striking, 'Why did you do such a thing?'.
Isn't that something? Why? First God goes to Adam, then to Eve and then to the serpent. In that whole exchange in the book of Genesis, I'm just profoundly affected by how gently he handles Eve. Juxtapose that against the address to the serpent.

Damn You Auto Correct Reveals 9 Funniest Texts of the Year

Damn You Auto Correct Reveals 9 Funniest Texts of the Year

When angry is the weather pattern

Calm your anger and forget your rage - Psalm 37

I had this amazing conversation with my confessor about my anger. He asked me why I was so angry and what was going on that's got me wound up? I must have had this complete lost and total look of helplessness when I answered, "I have no idea. It's like I wake up and just like the weather is cold outside, I'm angry. It's just a fact of nature. Likening a weather pattern to an emotion, is the only way I know how to explain it." Aside from the grace that flows from sacramental confession which I don't mean to downplay,..... how to deal with anger?

If it's cold outside, bundle up and protect against the elements. If it's angry inside, bundle up and protect against the elements. Here's how I bundle up: I pray. I ignore it, in the sense that I offer my anger to God. (just because I'm angry doesn't give me a free pass to act on it.) I admit/acknowledge/recognize that I'm angry - that one's important. Name it, because then you can place it. Feed on scripture and load up on grace. That's what I'm trying to do and if that helps you then praise God.

In which chunky pup teaches me how to pray

2559 "Prayer is the raising of one's mind and heart to God or the requesting of good things from God."² But when we pray, do we speak from the height of our pride and will, or "out of the depths" of a humble and contrite heart?³ He who humbles himself will be exalted;⁴ humility is the foundation of prayer, Only when we humbly acknowledge that "we do not know how to pray as we ought,"⁵ are we ready to receive freely the gift of prayer. "Man is a beggar before God."⁶ 

(Catechism of the Catholic Church)

First off. Amen. 

Did you know that 1/4 of the Catechism of the Catholic Church is devoted solely to prayer?

Man is a beggar before God. A beggar.

Chunky pup, our late golden retreiver was rescued. We took her in when she was probably less than a year old and surmised she was abused. She had quite a few fears such as the fear of being beaten. Anytime we'd raise our voice she'd expose her belly to us and wet the floor. It took us months before she was reconditioned to know that when we were upset with her, we weren't going to beat her. So she did eventually stop wetting the floor and exposing her belly to us when we were stern with her, but she never stopped cowering in acknowledgement that maybe eating the furniture was a really bad idea on her part.


That cowering and acknowledgement of our own scumminess and sinfulness before the almighty God is the power of humility that maybe doesn't move or sway God, but moves and changes us. When we do that, truly acknowledge our own shortcomings and failings honestly before God, something really remarkable happens. It has the power to change our very life because it will affect how we deal with those problem people and situations we face on a daily basis. This happens because we allow ourselves to be seen for who we really are in the light of a good, perfect and eternal loving God.

The new opinions of the new translation of the Roman Missal have gotten old

I got SO sick of reading everybody's stinking opinion of the implementation of the new translation of the Roman missal that I couldn't bear any more. Maybe my tipping point came when The New York Times weighed in noting that even the Monsignor lost his place during mass. Gasp! Horror! Shock! Oh the shame of it all!
Please spare me. I really can't take any more. Father Z has it perfectly:

(Even missal guides for the laity have the mass parts of bowing, kneeling, silence, etc written in red.) It's really that simple folks. 'Nuff said!
Perhaps instead I can address a few of the obstacles people face in returning to mass in general:

• I don't need to go to mass to get close to God.
• And I don't need to show any affection to my husband in order for him to know I love him, but is that really how I want to live out our marriage? Our behaviors matter! If I don't behave according to my beliefs, very soon I will belive in the way I behave. Go to mass. It'll reinforce your beliefs.
• I had a bad experience with the church.
• I had a bad experience with my son. At the moment he and I are not happy with each other but we both know we can't fix it by ignoring it or each other. Persevere!
• I don't like the Church's view on...
• I don't like sharing. I never have and probably never will, but it's so much easier when I just get out of my comfort zone, look at it from the other persons' perspective and just do it. Jesus loves everyone no matter what baggage you bring. He just asks we obey his commands and the teachings of the church. Note: He doesn't force us. We are always free to obey or disobey and He doesn't ask us to like any of it.
• I don't get anything out of mass.
• Sometimes I don't get anything out of sexual intimacy with my husband, nothing tangible anyway. I mean if we're not going to have a child, 'Why bother?' (note the dripping sarcasm) Any moment spent in intimacy with my husband is NEVER wasted. It's the same with prayer, and mass is the highest form of prayer.

New Church Year Resolutions

The new church year starts this Sunday, the first week of Advent.

Here are some top ten ways you can begin the new church year:
1. Hey, it's not a spectator sport, resolve to fully participate in mass. 
With the new translation of the Roman missal, we all get to read along. No longer will you feel self-conscious that you haven't a clue what the words to the creed are. None of us knows it by heart, but this gives you an opportunity to pray it from the heart, which is far more important.

2. Instead of overeating, try over-praying.
Let's face it we all sometimes eat too much, play games too much, watch tv too much but really has anyone ever gotten blocked arteries from praying too much? Give it a try, you just might find out it's been what you've been missing all along.

3. Pray for your enemies.
Anyone can hate his enemies but only the best can pray for his enemies.

4. Be a man.
Only a real man knows the true power of being able to get down on his knees in humble adoration of God. (It goes without saying that man in this context means God's beautiful creation of man or woman.)

5. Pick up the Catechism of the Catholic Church
You have questions. It has answers.

6. Say your sorry...
in the sacrament of reconciliation and say it often. We are all scared of admitting when we've failed. It says I did wrong but unless we do, we'll never really get healed. It takes courage to stand before the person of Jesus Christ  and humbly and honestly name your sins aloud. (You're in luck! The Catholic Church has men who by virtue of their ordination humbly stand 'in persona Christi', person of Christ, just for you. He also seeks the sacrament for himself before a brother priest. You can go to someone who doesn't know you. He doesn't get the benefit of anonymity.)

7. Read the Sunday gospel
before Sunday. If I have a meeting at work especially where I have to present something to the group, you better believe I will be preparing for it ahead of time. You're presenting your prayers before the God of the universe, read the meeting agenda ahead of time.

8. Don't cram for the final.
Why are there so many elderly at mass on Sunday, on retreats, at bible study, at daily mass? They have the time. True, but for many it takes a lifetime of crisis, deaths and burials to finally sway their hearts to recognize that the only sure thing in life is not death but a creator who desires the very best for you and me.

9. Make course corrections.
How happy would you be if you only sporadically spent time with your closest family members or best friend? We make time for so many things in life and then tell the God who created it all for us that we don't have time for Him. Take a few minutes each night to turn your heart to God and review your day. See where God has blessed you and thank Him. See where you failed and resolve to do better.

10. Take the 40 day challenge!
If you don't believe in the Church, church teachings or even in God, I triple dog dare you to take this challenge. Set aside your personal feelings, your views, and your opinions for just 40 days and be completely obedient to church teachings. That means you may have to learn what the church actually teaches. 40 days. What do you have to lose?

Let's play! God's shoes

Dear Heavenly Father,

I know what the problem is. It's me.

I know what the solution is. It's you. Amen.

God's shoes. I can't hear Him coming. I only recognize Him after He's past but for weeks now I have been drawn to the parable of the Prodigal son, for weeks, and if I really examine it much further I expect it's been longer than that. You recall this parable, the son demands his inheritance and leaves his father only to lose it all. He decides to return to beg his father to let him be a servant so he can have his basic needs met. He had the whole scenario played out in his head how it would go.

The son knew he lost his dignity as son but knew he was still his Father's son. This is why he returned, begging to be a servant. He hoped for mercy to fulfill his needs. He still didn't have a clue who his Father was. He only knew he was his son, commendable for sure. However the Father surprises him with forgiveness. Within this forgiveness, did the son truly accept the Father's generosity and gift? Could he? When he turned from the foreign land and left it, that was the easy part, but the long journey home (to heaven) is a long and arduous path. The parable ends at least for the prodigal when he's forgiven by the Father (I can liken this to the sacrament of reconciliation), but at the same time, the journey is only beginning because to accept, to truly accept the gift of son-ship is difficult. I ask myself how do I respond to thoughts of 'my daughter', 'my beloved'? I preach this stuff to others, but the only reason I think God has me preach it, is because I so desperately need to hear it myself. 

Honestly, it fills me with fear. It's a fear that gently beckons, 'be with me'.... and yet it's still fear. 

Male genius vs. Feminine genius

I'm suppose to give a talk this weekend on feminine genius so here are some thoughts:

Physiologically speaking women have depth. We have innie and outie bits and we're just a fine specimen to behold! Ah! However, these innie and outie bits also reveal something of the great mystery of woman. We give comfort, assurance and tenderness and it comes from within to be expressed outwardly. As women we can agonize internally and externally over our decisions, our role, our actions and we can lift others up by our distinct gifts of comfort, assurance and tenderness.
Men are surface-ential. I know it's not a word but I like it! Men have outie dangly bits and that's just gross to ponder. Really, it is! However, this physiological outwardness also tells about a great mystery of man. Men have much going on inside like women, but they hide it from the surface because what is on the surface is very important. It is their very manhood that is on the line. Their very manhood is at stake for anything they bring to the surface. So they are very selective about which traits they will outwardly show, like outwardly displaying emotions that would detract from masculinity! This is usually the case for most men, which sadly for some men never comes.

However this is one of woman's most beautiful roles. She through her nurturing, comfort and tenderness aids man to break through their surface tension so to speak. She helps him reveal what is hidden, not when she badgers, whines, criticizes or demands to have the same power as man but precisely in her feminine genius, in her tenderness and especially in her affirmation of his masculinity. Women have this beautiful and amazing role to lift up not only their children, their husbands but also all of humanity.

I've seen feminism described solely by sexuality and being in control and while sexuality is one aspect of woman, to focus on that one aspect is really to lose sight of the true gift of woman. So let's touch on it briefly. For the record, males are quite willing to let women be in control (well most males lacking self-control) if that means they get serviced in some fashion. So really, is that control? Is that really the best you can do? See how when we play a game by their rules, we lose - we lose ourselves and we miss the whole picture. If woman is really going to be in control that means a woman will protect the gift that is woman, internal and external so that she  gives herself to the one gift meant solely for her, her husband.

So many times I see feminism described as having or wanting the same power as man, doing and being the same as man, but I am not man. If I try to become one I will be distinctly unhappy because I trash the treasure that is feminine genius. (That and I really don't want dangly bits) I will only be fulfilled when I am living out my true femininity, all of it, internal and external.

Happy hair day

Yesterday the Peach pit and I went for a haircut, well a trim. We are both letting our hair grow out for Locks for Love which provides hairpieces to kids with cancer. Peachy was extremely excited to be going to a salon to get her hair trimmed. She's nine. I think when I was nine, I dreaded going anywhere near someone threatening to take scissors to my hair unless I was the one with the scissors. I'm weird that way but Peachy embodies so many distinctly beautiful feminine traits. Pride in her personal appearance is one of those things.

As the stylist finishes trimming the girls silky straight locks she asks her what she thinks. Peachy responds, "I like it, and I was wondering do you have any advice how to keep tangles out of my hair?"

Seriously at her age, my hair was a rat's nest. Really it was. Think thick, dry,  curly, did I mention thick hair. Oh it was a mess. Not once did I ever consider how to keep tangles out but I did consider how to take apart electronics and thermal coolers to see how they functioned... and did.

Pancake Day!!!

Actually I used to hate pancakes mostly because my dad made them like EVERY Saturday and Sunday and sometime in the middle of the week. I got so sick of eating pancakes on Saturday and then being conscripted to help out with the family lawn or vegetable selling business that I just couldn't take one more pancake but after a good long pause from pancakes, my attitude has mellowed.

Monkeyboy was away at a gymnastics clinic this weekend, so we missed him and Papa on Sunday. This morning as I was lying next to the monkey trying to cajole him out of bed I asked what he wanted for breakfast....'pancakes, because we missed pancakes on Sunday'. (Pancakes are a bit of work on a Monday morning and ordinarily Papa doesn't make us pancakes on weekdays.)

However, I thought awww, how sweet. Sundays are usually a special day at our house. We have pancakes or waffles, eggs, bacon maybe or omlettes after mass and by 'we have' I mean 'Papa makes'. So off I went requesting pancakes from Papa because everyone knows Papa will make anything Mama wants. I didn't really want pancakes this morning but my kids did and that was enough for me. We had Sunday breakfast on Monday morning. It was fabulous.Thank you Papa!

And that my friends is our Marian lesson for today. We pray for Mary to help us because she is the Mother of Jesus. She has a special place in His heart and in His kingdom. When we give her our prayers, she polishes them up and presents them to Jesus in a way that is irresistible for Him to deny. He loves her so much. He indulges her and she know what to ask for, how to ask for it and will never fail in acquiring for us exactly what we need.

Believe in yourself

I really do dig despair.com

Cold chicken

This whole mom thing is a funny business. I never thought that I'd be so happy to be eating cold chicken. My brother used to love eating cold leftover chicken from the fridge. Cold pizza, yes. Chicken? Not so much.

I have been super cranky lately. I've been volunteering quite a bit and maybe a bit more than usual. I've been anxious about my job and changes coming, keeping my projects moving forward so much so that even when I've been there as mom, I haven't been present to the kids because I'm doing something else for someone else. They weren't bad things. They were all good things but not 'mom' things. I let something else take the place of my primary vocation and it made me cranky.

When I realized that all these things I was doing for others was draining the life energy from me and making me a worse mom I said, "I'm done. I can't do this." So I went back to being mom. I played with the kids, talked about what was going on in their world, watched their favorite TV shows with them, and I served them dinner. I was running around getting their hot chocolate made during dinner that my dinner sat. By the time I did get to it, I ended up eating whatever was left and it was blessedly cold. I sat down with a smile on my face and life welling up within me. Why? Because I was doing what God intended.

I hope you have a cold chicken moment today, and I hope I continue to have and treasure them!

May God bless all our cold chicken moments in life. 

Good Morning Beautiful!

Every morning I say that to the Peach pit and every morning she responds, 'Good morning more beautiful'. The first few times I was incredulous, ' Seriously sweetie, have you seen me?'.
She was less than impressed and also a bit furious with my retort. Her response was 'God made you beautiful. He made you perfect. The way you are is the way He wants you to be! And YES you ARE more beautiful.'

Nine year old little twerp beat me to the gospel.

Amen, daughter of mine.

Whoopers!

One of the things I love about having kids is the blessed virginal understanding of all things. You look at the world through their eyes and it just makes you go wow!

My best friend text'd me yesterday saying her 3 year old was so upset with Dad because of the candy exodus from their house: "Daddy, don't give away the candy. That's NOT okay!"

Then there was Peachy who was all excited to tell Dad that she got "whoopers" for him. His favorite!

I was going to correct her to tell her they are Whoppers but I think I like whoopers so much better!

Anger management

I used to get so furious with the kids for doing or not doing what I expected. They know what is expected of them and sometimes they just fail. Instead of getting angry with them, I just get disappointed. Anger can be so superficial but disappointment cuts straight to the heart. When I examine anger fully, I see the true reason for my anger and it's then that I see shades of disappointment.

Both my work and church community verbally emphasize family time. However, I'm finding that I'm disappointed that only my work community puts action to words. I am expected to take time away from work and when I have a family commitment, work waits. It's understood and it's clear. I'm finding that more and more, my failures in church ministry come at least in part as a result of my family. Initially I was angry, up until the point when I examined it further and realized I was disappointed.

Whoa Nellie! Oh Nellie!

How to describe the Rangers Cardinals World Series... ebbs and flows
It was all about ebbs and flows in Game 6.
Nellie's homerun. Nellie's missed catch.
Feliz's wild pitching to come within 1 strikeout away closing.

Settle down boys. It's another game. Just do what you do. Concentrate and play ball.

Who's shoes

Have you ever played Who's shoes? It's when you can tell who's coming down the hall by their gait, the clip-clop of their hooves, or the pitter patter of the soles of their shoes hitting pavement. Just like that characteristic tell-tale give-away that someone's coming down the hall, each of us has a pattern, a way we act and react that gives us away. Sometimes it endears us to our friends. Well God is like that. There are ways He characteristically acts in our lives and sometimes you can tell it's Him if you learn to play who's shoes.

So here what he does with me: I will blog, meditate, converse on a topic and maybe get an insight or idea. The following day, I will be exposed to a teaching, a conversation, re-read my blog or read Scripture that points DIRECTLY to an insight or experience of the previous day. That's when I know it's a God moment. It's a beautiful bouquet He places in my path and then he hides the card to be found later affirming it's from Him. He doesn't always do that, but when I'm particularly confused or I need to be affirmed or convicted that's what He does.

Incidentally, the evil one plays who's shoe's too but here's the kicker: If you learn how to play who's shoe's with him, you can head him off at the pass and learn to anticipate him and his movements and dash towards Mary's loving arms. I let her deal with Him. She doesn't seem to mind because it gives her an opportunity to hug me yet again. Can't get tired of hugs!

All in

There is something to be said about contemplating a crucifix. When I gaze upon the figure of the God-man hanging in what looks like sheer defeat, I see the power of submission. Submitting to God's will doesn't mean I'll be happy, pleased or satisfied but it means I will be fulfilled, content and totally used up. It means I am all in.

I imagine Jesus didn't get up one day and decide, 'Hmmm today would be a good day to be humiliated and die upon a cross'. I expect He didn't feel like going through that, much like some days I don't feel like praying, I don't feel like going to church, I don't feel like doing my work, I don't feel like putting up with my family, boss, stress, or even opening myself up to being humiliated. No I expect he didn't feel like it but quite the opposite, he willed it because he was 'all in'. It's not something you do halfhearted. It's not something that can be done half-heartedly.

Discernment by 2x4

I'm back from retreat! We were discussing what we wanted to tell Jesus last night so I told the Peach pit how I longed for children who would clean my house. She said she longed to be an actress (dramatic hand gestures). Then she announces, 'Well we're both not getting what we want!'

Huh?!?!? Little girl, where did you come up with that! Just when I was starting to think, she's watching a little too much Disney channel, husband announces this morning, "Hmm, I'm pretty sure she got that from me. I use that line when they argue about their school work." 

It's his way of expressing a great philosophical truth. It doesn't matter what you want to do. It matters that you do what you've been called to do. That pretty much sums up my retreat experience. Thank you Jesus for your patience and the 2x4 wooden post you used to slap me. 

The glory of God in a holy man

We went to a prayer service where a man of prayer had been electrocuted when he was younger. Now the most remarkable thing about this man is that he's so unremarkable. You look at him and he's unassuming. He suffers from rheumatoid arthritis yet kneels before our Lord when crossing one side of the Church to the other. You'd think he's fine and not in pain to look at him since he exudes joy but he suffers. RA is horrible disease, but the man has a special gift, a special way God uses him in ministry. He has this ability to pray over people and he'll tell you what saints you need to pray to for whatever you need. Don't believe me if you wish but here's what happened to us:

He gets to Peachy and makes the sign of the cross on her forehead, prays then says:

"You are creative and are good at writing. Pray to St. Francis de Sales. For the math that you don't like to do(Eyebrows raised), pray to St. Albert the Great" 

Peach's jaw about dropped to the floor as she asked how did he know I hate math!

Monkeyboy got there late so he joined in an hour later. Again the same sign of the cross and silent prayer and this holy man of God tells monkeyboy:

"Oh boy, you need to pray to St. Francis de Sales. He'll help you out with your writing and english since you really don't like to do those. You are good in math and the sciences (and something about medical school - mama's heart drops as she says "Nooooooo, not medical school, been there - not MY son!") so you need to pray to St. Albert the Great. He'll assist you.

Medical school aside, the fact that an hour apart they get the exact same saints to pray to for opposite reasons is astounding. It makes life easier at home since we can pray them together. Secondly, he SO pegged them! Before you say he assigns every kid the same saints let me assure you a line of kids was ahead of me and Peachy and they got different saints. He had no idea Peachy and Monkeyboy were related. I wasn't standing anywhere near monkeyboy. A fact I lament because I didn't hear the whole discussion about medical school.

Things to take on retreat

Make sure you're packing heat!
You never know when or where the enemy will strike so make sure to take your rosary beads wherever you go.

Take a notebook
Use it, copiously.

Ignore the enemy who tries to convince you that you don't need to go
It's too much time away from work and family. It's too far. Bills are piling up, have you seen them lately? You're prayer life is fine. You're in a good spot, don't push it. You can pray from here just as easy. He'll make you restless, give you headaches, make you feel sick and super way tired and he'll start a waterboarding session with apathy. Oh how he likes to torture with apathy.

Take some spiritual reading
Probably won't have time for that but take it anyway!

Prayers
You're life should be filled with a tapestry of prayers and prayer lists. Put them in your heart and you'll never have to write them down.

Our Father who art INTERCEPTION!!!

We (and by "we" I mean the monkeyboy and I) were watching the EPSN highlight reel when, praying our communal night prayers with the Peach and Papa (before sending the kids off to bed), I yelled out INTERCEPTION at the WRONG wrong wrong time. Peachy points her chin down and raises her eyes at me, 'Interception? Really mama! Our Father who art interception? You think God likes that???'

Good point Peach, I'm sure God didn't like that interception as much as I didn't. The Cowgirls just couldn't hold on to the football. Did they coat the ball in jelly? The Pat's couldn't keep a grip on it either but sheesh!

For the record, the TV now gets turned off when saying prayers. Somehow I've managed to earn a very bad reputation. ???

Smoking and bladder cancer

The bladder cancer rates for men and women smokers are about the same, 50%, says a study from the NIH.

Do despair

Enjoy this priceless piece from despair.com

My daily med

It doesn't matter so much what we dress like if we don't cloth ourselves in holiness. It doesn't matter so much what we eat if we aren't feeding our souls with the Word of God. It doesn't matter what we do, how we arrange our day if it's not imbued with love for God.

Bless me Father for it's been two weeks since I've leveled up.

Last night the priest tells me that after mass monkeyboy asked him to come over to help him get past Lego Star Wars Clone Wars Count Dooku level 3 because he's stuck. Two things struck me about this. One: The collar doesn't matter to the boy. He sees the priest as a person, an approachable person!!! Two: It occurred to me that this sort of thing is 'normal' in our life. That happened when my priest friend told me, "I told him maybe Tuesday night."

Mass, annointing the sick, baptism, confession, helping your flock get through role playing games... what a slick job!

It's Texas State Fair time: Fried Bubble Gum and the buffalo chicken flapjack

Yep, you heard right, fried bubble gum!

The all - around winner, a buffalo chicken strip dipped in pancake batter coated in jalapeno breadcrumbs and served with syrup is this years' heart attack on a stick winner.

Emotional Intelligence

"is the ability to perceive emotion, integrate emotion to facilitate thought, understand emotions and regulate emotions to promote personal growth."

Emotional expressiveness is key to successful communication, so says an article on the behaviors of  Top CEOs. The higher one's emotional intelligence, the better one is able to cope with negative circumstances and help maintain team dynamics.

I may be finally starting to understand me. This is a key gift I've been given but have never quite understood. I can be an emotionally expressive person but I do not emote everywhere. In fact, I'd say I'm selectively emotionally expressive. I choose moments in which to act even when angry or upset. It's not always prudent to show anger and irritation in public. Sometimes it's just ghetto, so exercise patience when it's necessary to hash things out. When that time rolls around though, I'm all sorts of emotionally expressive. Although, that being said, my emotions can be raw but my language and respect for the other remains intact. I may not like the other in the midst of an argument but I will love them.

Anger notwithstanding, I tend to generate harmony and balance in relationships. It's not easy. It takes persistent effort and heroic patience. None of this I have in abundance so I find that when I'm done with my work life, I need to back off so I can recharge. Now I'll admit, the emotionally expressive person can be a lot of fun. However, I have very little respect or patience for an emotionally expressive person who is disingenuous. The study goes on to confirm that people pick up on a lack of sincerity and you'll lose credibility. So for pity's sake don't be a loser, be genuine.

Inner Beauty

Monkeyboy is on a gymnastic team with a bunch of teenage boys who display countless examples of how not to be a man. They tend to lose focus as hundreds of leotards go swirling past. Husband used their examples to discuss with monkeyboy that the girls aren't just bits and parts but that each of them is a person with feelings, hopes and desires. It is the totality of the person that makes them beautiful, not just what you see on the outside. When you look at a person from this perspective, whether she is externally pretty or not she will radiate beauty in a much greater way. Monkeyboy agreed and said, "Yeah, mama is pretty. I see her beauty shining through every day."

I guess that's why the little guy can't seem to stop kissing me.

Dear Guardian Angel,

You are not funny! I know you are highly amused and given all the trouble I put you through on a routine basis I probably deserve it. Really though, you are not funny and quit laughing. I know you're probably sniggering. Quit it!

Love,

Your sweet little heathen

"Huh", you wonder. Well let me assure you, my guardian angel is NOT funny. Last night I specifically told him, "please get me up on time for my early morning adoration hour". I refused to set my alarm last night. Sometimes I just depend on him. He has yet to let me down when I rely on his angelic alarm clock. So I was surprised when I awoke at 2 am and I let him know that it was way too early. I then drifted back to sleep. When I awoke at 15 after the hour and realized I was 15 minutes late for my adoration hour, I about flipped. Now in reality, I only had about 1 working synapse and was stumbling though the house looking for my prayer book and my beads. I couldn't find my rosary beads. Well I found about 15 sets of beads but none were the ones I was looking for, so when I finally found them I dashed out the door a full 1/2 hour late for my hour. When I arrived at the chapel, the person before me was still there, thankfully. Sometimes adorers fill in and stay a bit longer with Jesus until the next adorer arrives. So I dashed in and apologized profusely to him, explaining how sorry I was that I was so late. He turns to me with this quizzical look and says "Late? You're a full 1/2 hour early."

So I just turned to Jesus, shook my head and smiled. Which is funny because often times that's what he does to me. I'm sure he was amused too. Incidentally, today was the feast day of Guardian angels but not celebrated because it fell on a Sunday and just about no feast day trumps Sunday's, not even the Mother of God. However my guardian angel thought he'd have a little fun on his day. Live it up buddy! I hope you enjoyed it. Ornery little angel!

The body of ....TOUCHDOWN!

Oh the perils of App girl being a Eucharistic Minister! Typically I have no less than 4 ball games that I'm on top of and now that I have an app that gives me live coverage of football, I'm a little scary. College football, the NFL, hockey, Baseball playoffs and being eucharistic minister.. that's a dangerous combination.

We were watching Ohio State's dismal performance against Michigan State and Arkansas comeback to embarass Texas A&M and I think they heard me screaming in Canada. In my defense I get just as animated over Jesus.

The pope and the CEO

What do the Pope and a CEO have in common?
The best managers in my experience have been servant leaders. These are the leaders that people will follow, admire and try to emulate. I have a love in my heart for people who have the courage to live that type of leadership style. I was reading an article from Zenit and the following quote just struck a chord:
" if you're a manager or CEO of a business, you have this great opportunity and responsibility that you lead a group of people that are continuing to create the world"

The manager has the distinct honor and responsibility to enable the people they lead into that great unknown. If businesses are to be led successfully with the employees fully invested in the company's success then servant leadership will be the way to engender that kind of success.

Angels and Archangels' Job Description

Today we celebrate the feast day of the Archangels Michael, Gabriel and Raphael. An angel isn't a job title. It's a job description. It means proclaim a message. Messages that are of supreme importance say like the message announcing the birth of Christ are administered by archangels. Whereas messages of lesser importance are delivered by angels. We also have guardian angels. I love my guardian angel. I wish I could hear/understand him better but I'm guessing that takes practice, commitment and a whole lot more holiness that I don't have. I hear him dimly.

My best friend is traveling. He's on a pilgrimage and I was worried that he'd miss his connecting flight in Europe  unless they delayed it because of delays on his outbound side. I have no ordinary way to communicate with him so in the middle of morning prayers I got this overwhelming sense that his plane was in the air and he was on it. It was accompanied by a sense of peace. So after prayer I checked the flight status on my handy dandy phone (Is that a confession-able offense? I mean I also use my phone to pray. Ibrievary is awesome! Although the outage earlier this week was inconvenient.) and found out that his flight did indeed take off.

Angels, Guardian angels, Arcchangels are real. You can't see them. You can't feel them. They are like love. Love is a verb. It is an action. Angel is proclaim a message. So you will only know them in the do-ing. Love can't be weighed. It can't be touched. It can't be held. It can be given, received or experienced. So it is with angels.

Today we celebrate the archangels whose job description is to proclaim messages of God's wonderous power: Michael, God's strength: Gabriel and God's healing powers: Raphael.

Peach pit arithmetics

Peachy got a 74 on her first math quiz which is pretty good for her. She got an 84 on her second math quiz which is just outstanding for her, and on her math test she got a 45 which is normal for her.

I am the worlds' second worst hair stylist!

The Peach pit has this American Girl doll Hair book that monkeyboy gave her for Christmas a couple of years back. At this point the book is raggedy and worn because she has made me do just about every hair style in that book. I'm very grateful for the pictures and the step by step instructions. God has been very good to me. My hair is simple to arrange. People ask me all the time what I do to my hair and they take my reply as arrogance because I usually say "I wash it." Seriously, my hair is long and curly. You don't brush curly hair. You just don't. It's not pretty. I did it once for Halloween and the kids are still laughing about that one. I was the lunch lady. I had spoons, hangers, and assorted kitchen items in my hair that year.

This morning I was helping the peach pit with her hair all the while thinking "I have to be the worlds' worst hairstylist' but somehow I manage to pull off acrobatic feats of hair styling when I notice the hair in her face needed to be pulled back. So I asked her if she had a barrette or clip so we could tame her wild strands. That's when husband announces: "I have a chip clip!". It was also the moment I realized that I am the worlds' second worst hair stylist.

Not to worry. Scientist at work.

Rarely do we MR (Magnetic Resonance Imaging) physicists get let out in public. Normally they keep us confined to the magnetic fields of the MR bays but occasionally we escape.

There was the picnic where we rode vehicular amusement park rides (Think open hatch rocket with wheels and seat belts.) My MR physics colleague and I were the only 2 who rode down the street with our arms outstretched screaming our lungs out. (See that is why they should let us out every now and again to acclimate us to society. Yes there are pictures. No, I'm not sharing.) That one cost us dearly. There were 'Escaped MR Physicist' reward signs tacked up after that escapade.

Yesterday a colleague needed a scan victim... uh volunteer. So I volunteered to enter the MR Chamber of Secrets. I keep jammie pants at my desk for such occasions. (Metal zippers tend to mess with the magnetic field and gradients, hence the jammies.) My visiting colleague also needed to be escorted around the building because of badge access so I helped him out there too...in my jammies. I really should be accustomed to the bemused looks on my co-workers' faces. The other MR physicists however, didn't even bat an eye. They understand. Sometimes scientists wear jammies to work. Nothing to be concerned about. This is "normal" behavior for an MR Scientist.

In over my head

I recently applied for a high profile position. Because I wanted it??? No, because I was asked to apply.

I concede I don't have the technical prowess of the last person in that position, but I do have the competence to execute the job. I don't think I'll get the position so I'm wondering: isn't it futile to continue in the interview process?

This would be a good time for desolation to end, a really good time. I'm getting strong temptations to withdraw my name from the contenders, but I keep getting drawn back to rule #1...stay the course.

Men in briefs. Good grief!

I went shopping last night for undershirts for the monkeyboy and accidentally picked up a package of briefs with some six pack ripped man displaying tighty whities du jour. He was fit and it was gross. I wanted to spew. People who like that sort of thing are just weird. Maybe I'm weird. Forget the maybe. I need no man to dangle for my enjoyment because honestly that's just gross. (You're welcome for the visual.) 

Yes, I can wind a catheter down to the left carotid artery, maze my way through intestines on my way towards a kidney, perform surgical feats of gross anatomy and then be famished for lunch, but men in underwear gross me out. Actually I never did mind seeing my brother and dad in their underwear. As men go, my dad has a pretty stellar physique. My brother used to get home from school and strip down to his underwear. Eh, Texas. However, in general men pictured in briefs tend to gross me out. I need a level of intimacy established (a relationship) in order to see a guy in his briefs and in that case, it ceases to be spew-worthy and becomes a perfunctory occasion for conversation. 

Women on the other hand, we have innie and outie bits and we're just a pleasurable sight, (not so much when we're decked out in creepy lingerie), but put a woman in a white terry cloth robe with disheveled hair and matching slippers and we're just too adorable! 

I've always found a woman in sleepwear a far more wholesome, appealing and irresistible sight than an airbrushed woman with silk dental floss running up her butt crack. (You're welcome for the visual.)

No, that was not your country calling!

I used to leave my phone on at night for work emergencies, when it was required of my job otherwise I'd turn it off. These days I tend to leave my phone on at night for family calls, prayer emergencies for friends and emergencies in general. Occasionally the holy bat phone will ring but not often.

Last night the bat phone rang, and I must have awoken to answer it. This morning husband turned to me as I was quietly praying my morning rosary in bed and tried to prod me out of bed with "Time to get up. Your country doesn't need you on the Olympic sleep team". To which I retorted, " Yes, they do. They called last night!" Then the whole episode came back to me as he asked me "Who was that last night?"

I had no idea. I couldn't understand a word in my sleep daze but I seemed to recall they were mumbling and incoherent. Perhaps I was mumbling and incoherent. However, I thought I recalled asking, "Pardon? What did you say? May I help you? What can I do for you? Excuse me?" I couldn't be sure I said any of these until husband asked, "Who were you so polite to last night?"

So I told him the truth. "I TOLD you. My country called last night. They need me to stay in bed for a while this morning."

Sweet sleep, Jesus.... blessed sweet sleep

I've commented to my spiritual directors that I'm acutely aware that all the gifts God has given me, He can take them away at any moment. My next statement is usually something like: I sure hope He doesn't, but that I knew He could and would at any moment it pleased Him. 

I was reminded again of that this morning as I awoke after my adoration hour. I think I've posted before about sweet sleep after visiting with Jesus, but I'm gonna do it again because it finely demonstrates the glory of God.

I have an early morning adoration hour, 5 am. Not too early for some of you but seeing as how we were dog sitting last night, a 5 am adoration hour means I have to get up no later than 4 and (that's pushing it) to make the 1/2 hr drive to see Jesus. At 2:00, 2:38, 3, 3:38 and 3:42 I realized it wasn't 4 am, but it was at 3:42 when I fell asleep. So at 4 am, did I want to get up out of bed? Absolutely. Husband always offers to take my hour but I don't allow him that guilty pleasure. It's my time with our Blessed Lord. I'm not saying Jesus speaks to me, because often time he doesn't, sometimes I babble in prayer, sometimes I listen and sometimes we just spend the time together in silence. Jesus usually blesses me with not just sleep but blessed sweet sleep after my adoration hour. It's something I enjoy but not something I look forward to or expect at the end of my hour. I don't ever want to take His gifts for granted.

The sleep that follows intimate union with husband is nice and had I never experienced the blessed bliss of sleep after time with Jesus, I might even be tempted to call sleep after sex, sweet sleep but the sleep I get with husband cannot even come near to the bliss of sleep following time with Jesus. It just can't even hold a candle to it. Just like union with my husband can't even hold a candle to union with God. It's an impossibility. So after awaking this morning from the blessed bliss of sleep with Jesus I can only say to Jesus, "I love you" and "thank you". Which for me, honestly are one in the same thoughts.

Desolation = Blah, blah, blah

This has been one of the more challenging desolatory periods in my life. Usually desolation kicks into high gear and then lingers like some no-name leftover casserole that no one wants to touch or throw out. This time desolation wandered in, uninvited mind you, and kicked around for a while. I was starting to think it had wandered off and gotten abducted but alas not to be. It was just biding it's time before settling in for the long haul and then kicking into high gear. Desolation is a darkness of the soul. It can be likened to a depression, but it's not. It can be a loss of faith, hope, love, an absence of God, and it can also be complete apathy and a sadness of the soul. It's blah blah blah, kind of like my blog...hee,hee,hee!

There are strategies for dealing with desolation and every time I go through it I guess I add something else to my list or some sordid detail that's somehow suppose to help me for next time. I'm not really sure that it does. Some strategies for dealing with desolation:

1) When in desolation stay the blah blah blah

2) In desolation, remember God is blah blah blank-blank blankety blah (I'm gonna need confession for that one!)

3) The most important thing in desolation is blah blah blah

4) In desolation think blah blah blah

5) Starve desolation with increased blah blah blah

6) Know the blah blah blah

7) Consider the reasons for your blah blah blah

Well I suppose that's not exactly the correct list, but re-reading the list (at least to my soul) always feels like reading the list above. No amount of personal contact or words of encouragement ever seem to make a slight difference to the disposition of my soul. In fact sometimes it actually makes it worse. Go figure. The proper list or better stated, mine is:

1) When in desolation stay the course.

2) In desolation, remember God is present. 

3) The most important thing in desolation is patience.

4) In desolation think long term.

5) Starve desolation with increased prayer, sacramental life and ministry.

6) Know the enemy

7) Consider the reasons for your desolation. (It's either your fault because of laziness. It's a gift to help you grow or it's likely intended for re-orientation. By the way, knowing the reason for your desolation doesn't make it any easier. It's like labor pains. You just have to endure it.)

The exaltation of the cross: It's not easy but it's simple

Today we celebrate the Cross. Yes!!!! Suffering! Woohoo! Yeah, not so much, but ...today's readings (can be found here) speak to me the following:

When we exalt something we can take one of two approaches. One way is passive where we allow our emotions and affections to take control like we do with football players, coaches and teams after fabulous plays. In this case the exaltation is simple. We are emotionally disposed to lift up in this case a coach or player. The other is active where one attaches high value and worth to something that may be difficult to attain. Thus it will take more than mere emotion or affection to achieve that goal. It doesn't de-value the worth of the item, in fact it makes it all the more precious. That's how I understand the exaltation of the cross. We exalt it not because we WANT the suffering but because it is the mode of transportation for our salvation. Through it we attain our salvation. It makes absolutely no sense to secular society and it's not easy but it sure is simple.

I struggle with willing to take on the cross. Oh, I have good intentions but I don't suppose many people get into heaven based on good intention. It takes the will and thus the cross, choosing the better part. It's not easy but it's simple. When I mess it all up (when not if), I have the sacrament of reconciliation. My husband always wonders why it takes me no less than an hour when I meet with my confessor (because he thinks I'm a saint - Ha! Love IS blind.) and truth be told more often than not it takes longer than that. We discuss all sorts of things and by the time I'm absolved I always get the impression that my confessor gets more out of my confession than I get grace and that is MORE than fair. 

St Paul's letter to the Corinthians... highly irreverent!

There have been reports saying that Catholics are using the web but not for faith or spirituality. Matt Warner's got a piece in the Register discussing the whole topic. The gist is that the new media should be entertaining to capture an audience's attention. When I think about it, Jesus went to where people were. He was the worst sales and marketing person EVER! Instead of setting up huge mega-churches with dynamic preaching which is really far more efficient, he did a person to person ministry... very time consuming and that's draining, but if we are going to continue his ministry it can be no different. A lot of what he said, people didn't want to hear. A preacher isn't effective because he's dynamic (Anyone been to a Catholic mass? Dynamic preaching is not exactly what's taught in seminaries.) Preaching is effective because the priest speaks the truth, not watered down, gospel truth that cuts between joint and marrow more effective than any two edged sword and he does it by virtue of his ordination because he is acting not on his own but in Persona Christi. To Jesus, every person matters. Every single one He loves deeply. Deep enough that it's worth it to him to go person to person. He is more inefficient than the US postal service, but he's infinitely more effective! It's about a relationship and those can take time to forge. 

Because we are auditory and visually stimulated we will be drawn to entertaining media, but when the entertainment factor wears off (because it does, even with pornography or perhaps especially with pornography), we will hunger for something that will satisfy us. That is where Christ fits in and then things like blogs, faith news sites, vatican twitter accounts, catechism, and apologetic web pages. These have their impact in relational ministry and in low numbers.

Until then here's this for your Auditory Visual stimulatory enjoyment (Warning : Highly irreverent and highly hilarious!)

Nickelback Popstar parody

I am such a Nickelback fan but having kids has really excluded many of the things I like to listen to, watch, etc and placed them into the realm of 'not in my life now'. So I was really amused when my husband forwarded the Popstar parody because the other thing I'm a huge fan of is parodies, especially rather witty ones. Enjoy!

My kids are going to need therapy

When the family was gone this summer, I got used to many things: lots of quiet, empty fridge, clean house, not having to concern myself with modesty while in the house... mostly. I mean the windows were kind of closed. Dressing before/after a bath has never been a strength. I'd lazy up to my room with a towel on or not and dress there. I don't consider it that big a deal. Apparently monkeyboy does. So I've been trying to remember to shut my door when I change and make sure I'm dressed before I walk out from a closed room. I'm trying! I know it shouldn't be that hard but it's me! 

After bathing yesterday it occurred to me that I forgot to bring clean underclothes. At least I remembered to bring clean clothes (because my family is apparently conservatively modest), so someone give me a break. I'm trying, really I am! I made the executive decision to wrap my soggy hair in the lone towel that was in the bathroom (I can't stand being drippy and with my long wet hair that's a near impossibility!), put on my clean shirt because I'm modest (hell, who am I trying to kid) and sneak upstairs bottomless. It was 6 am. Honestly, who's up at that hour except me? As I turn the corner to go upstairs I glance back to the dining room and there sits monkeyboy rolling his eyes and shaking his head at my bare bottom.

Apparently I should have left a wet streak of water from my drippy hair instead of a mama streak.

God and Modern Physics

One of my best friends forwarded me some iTunes podcasts that you can find here. I've sometimes wondered how on earth I ended up a physicist. I tried to run away from Physics, ran back to it, ran away and then was thrust headlong into it (kind of like my relationship with God). 

I love my work. I really do. Here's a video (series) by Dr. Robert Spitzer also known as Fr. Spitzer and his new book also on Amazon.