Am I Some Kind of Jesus Freak? Session 3 of Lawn Chair Catechism

Hosted by CatholicMom.com

Welcome back to Lawn Chair Catechism! If you haven’t already read any of the previous discussions on the introduction or chapter 1 of Sherry Weddell’s terrific book, Forming Intentional Disciples, that’s okay! You can use the study guide that CatholicMom.com is providing, and if you’re in the mood to get deeper with it, you can order the book here and get free shipping. (Personally, I highly recommend the book. I used the study guide alone for the first 2 weeks, but received my copy in the mail just before vacation and have now caught up with the readings. If you can swing it, or even share a copy with a friend, it’s worth it!)

Okay, housekeeping out of the way. Now it’s time to get into Chapter 2: “We Don’t Know What Normal Is.” No, that’s not a description of my crazy family, you sillies. Not this time, anyway. Sherry spent chapter 1 (“God Has No Grandchildren”) outlining the problem we face as a Church: dwindling involvement in the Church, people leaving the Church in early adulthood and never really returning. The problem doesn’t lie in a lack of catechesis, necessarily, but the fact that so many Catholics don’t have a concept of a real, personal God who loves them. We aren’t helping people develop a personal relationship with God, and they don’t even know they can have one as a result. As Sherry says on p. 57, “One of our most surprising discoveries has been how many Catholics don’t even know that this personal, interior journey exists.” (Emphasis in original.)

There’s this Spiral of Silence that ensues when we sense that we are holding an opinion that is different than the majority of a group we’re in. Our brains literally and physiologically turn a switch that tells us we’re doing something wrong. We tend to stop ourselves from continuing to do something or speak about something when we realize that we are in the minority. Sherry talks about the idea of “normal” being different from what is “typical” in parishes around the country. Typically, we don’t talk about our faith with others very much; we don’t wear it on our sleeves. Typically, we see people who are “on fire for Jesus” as a little Protestant and get a bit freaked out by that sort of talk. But this is not what normal Christianity is supposed to look like.

Sherry and some friends started a support group of sorts to get together and discuss the Faith and to help each other grow in holiness. They outlined some definitions of what “normal” is really supposed to look like:

. . . It is NORMAL for lay Catholics to be excited Christian activists.

. . . It is NORMAL for lay Catholics to be knowledgeable of their faith, the Scriptures, the doctrinal and moral teachings of the Church, and the history of the Church.

. . . It is NORMAL for lay Catholics to have fellowship of other committed lay Catholics available to them, to encourage, nurture, and discern as they attempt to follow Jesus.

. . . It is NORMAL for the local parish to function consciously as a house for formation for lay Catholics . . ..

So how do we get from the kind of Catholic culture that is resistant to talking about our relationship with God to one that is comfortable with being on fire for Christ and wanting to spread that kind of joy and zeal? After all, right now, we’re about here:

The discussion questions, which will help us move towards addressing these issues, are these:

In your own faith:

• Are you comfortable talking with others about your relationship with God?
• Would you say that you’re a “normal” Catholic using the criteria outlined above? Or are you a “typical” Catholic, fighting that feeling that interest in the faith is only for a few pious eccentrics?

In your parish:

• Do you personally have, within your parish, a group of Catholics you meet with regularly, to discuss the faith, study the faith, and encourage each other to greater virtue?
• At this time, does your parish have in place a working system for actively mentoring those who want to grow in their relationship with God?

Let’s start with me, shall we?

Am I comfortable talking with others about my relationship with God? Well, I think so. I didn’t used to be, for sure. But I think as I have become more and more engrossed in my faith, I have found that I am more apt to share my faith with others. It’s not quite the way Jim Gaffigan was joking about, but it’s more a matter of my faith and relationship with God becoming so ingrained in my life that I can’t help but have it come up. And, again, I have quite a ways to go before I’m really a good disciple, as far as I can tell.

I think I vacillate between “normal” and “typical,” to be honest. I would hope I’m leaning more towards normal than I used to be, but I know there are times when I fail to be the Christian I ought to be. That Spiral of Silence, that switch in my head … it goes off sometimes, and I swallow it. As someone who battles introversion, it’s still difficult to stand out and be different. But at the same time, I am no longer self-conscious in crossing myself in public when an ambulance goes by or even simply crossing myself before praying with a group (including when the group is mainly Protestant).

There was a really fascinating part of this chapter, where Sherry describes a frustrating experience when someone explained that spiritual growth happens when you wake up one day and suddenly, you’re different! The kind of growth we’re striving for here is not something that happens, as Sherry puts it, magically. One must make the intentional effort – a conscious decision – to follow Christ, just as Saint Peter and the rest of the apostles did. That decision will help move us from spiritual infancy into spiritual adulthood, though it’s not the end of that journey.

I think what does happen, though, is that as you grow closer to God and learn to love Jesus as a real Person (someone who really exists!), you start to change to be more like Him. It’s so gradual that you don’t see it happening to yourself until, one day, you look back at something from your past and wonder, “How did I get from there to here?”

Gosh, this happens to me all the time. I’ll see a TV show I used to watch, or a movie I once loved, and I think, “I filled my head with that garbage? It’s so awful!” and I realize that I’m no longer the same person I used to be.

Does our parish have a group that facilitates this kind of intentional decision to choose Christ? Well, I think there’s a serious effort through adult catechesis to help us know the Faith better. And I’ve always looked at these are important programs to offer. But I think what has really accelerated my own journey has been my involvement with the Lay Dominicans.

This group doesn’t meet at my parish, but 2 1/2 hours away. We gather monthly to pray and to learn and to move further along the road to holiness through a Dominican spirituality. Dominicans’ lives are based on four pillars: Prayer, Study, Community, and Apostolate (or Preaching). Trying to live a life under the shelter these four pillars give has greatly improved my ability to see God as Someone with whom I am in a relationship. I think about Him as Father, as Savior. And even when I’m feeling spiritually dry, when I persevere and pray anyway, I’m often rewarded with a beautiful insight that drives home this point ever more clearly.

For me, I can no longer imagine being able to move down the path to holiness without these pillars to support me, without the Dominicans to guide me. It’s worth getting up at 5 am each month to make the drive to our meetings. The direction and formation I’m receiving in my Chapter is invaluable, and so I can see Sherry’s point in this chapter so well: we need to be able to get together and share our experiences this way. We need to be in a group where we’re seen as normal, not strange, for being on fire for Jesus. And with the strength gained in that group, we can go spread the fire to others, helping them see the beauty of our faith and the wonder of a real, personal relationship with the loving God and Father who created us and loves us without measure.

That’s when we can get to this point:

What do you think? If feel like you have a real and personal relationship with Christ, how do you share that? What helps to keep your fire for Him burning? Leave your comments here or at the CatholicMom.com site.

Lawn Chair Catechism Session 2: Chapter 1

Welcome to Session 2 of Lawn Chair Catechism! Today, we’re talking about Chapter 1 of Sherry Weddell’s book Forming Intentional Disciples. Don’t worry if you don’t have the book; CatholicMom.com has a study guide here with a summary of the chapter, which is what I’m using today, since I was late in ordering my book. (You’ve got until June 7 to order it for only $10 with free shipping, and then after that, you’ll be able to get it at regular price with free shipping. I have a friend who is reading it on her Kindle, so there’s another option that can get it into your hands faster, though I’m not sure of the price that way.)

So, let’s dive into Chapter 1: God Has No Grandchildren.

In her first chapter of Forming Intentional Disciples, Sherry Weddell describes with detailed statistics the crisis of Catholics leaving the Church. She shares the evidence that most departures happen in young adulthood, and that most who leave never come back. She concludes:

If this trend does not change, in ten years it will cease to matter that we have a priest shortage. The Builders will be largely gone, the Boomers retiring, and our institutions – parishes and schools – will be emptying at an incredible rate.

Sherry goes on to say that this is not a trend isolated in one area of the Church; everyone is affected by this trend. The root of the problem is that few Catholics have an understanding that a personal relationship with God is even possible.

Questions for Discussion:

In your own faith:

• Have you always been Catholic? How did the instruction and mentoring you received help you – or prevent you – from having a personal relationship with God?
• If you were raised in a Catholic home, are your family members all still Catholic? What events among your friends and family seem to explain why some are Catholic, and others are not?

In your parish:

• How’s your “retention rate”? What percentage of 8th graders in your parish are still practicing their faith at age 18? At age 24? Do young adults in your parish stay in touch with their childhood faith community, or do they drift away to an unknown faith?

I did grow up Catholic, but the idea of a personal relationship with God was never something discussed. I don’t think anything really prevented me from having a relationship with Him except for the fact that terminology like that wasn’t used. I always loved God very much, and I always loved being Catholic. My CCD was rather bland for the most part – better than some people my age, but not particularly rigorous – but I gained a love for Holy Eucharist that has stayed with me all my life. (In fact, I received my First Communion on my 8th birthday and cried for joy.) But my catechism classes ended after my Confirmation in the 6th grade (which was not the parish’s choice, but the choice of most parents), and so a deeper level of understanding of my faith was left untouched until my adult years. I think this prevented me from developing a deeper love for the Church and a better understanding of Her teachings.

Consequently, for my family the Catholic Church has not always been the most important thing in our lives. My father was raised Catholic, and he would never, ever leave the Church (which has always been my own attitude), but my mother was a convert whose RCIA class probably left a lot to be desired. My own delving into the Church and her history and teachings has led to me educating my parents on some issues! (Again, my life seems to have been leading up to my involvement in the Dominican Laity!) But grace before meals was only on special days like Christmas, Easter, and Thanksgiving, and I didn’t know about Holy Days of Obligation aside from Sundays until I was an adult.

I sometimes wonder if more challenging homilies on Sundays would help Catholics see the Church as more than the cultural association it seems to be, especially for cradle Catholics. Stronger preaching can lead to a desire to learn more about the faith, which leads us to a desire to be more pleasing to God in order to be closer to Him.

I think this leads to the parish questions, which I think I’ll touch on a little bit. I don’t see a good retention rate among older students who have been Confirmed (which our diocese does in the 10th grade). Many of the high school students become “too busy” for Mass and other parish activities, and it could be that they don’t feel like they could be involved sooner than Confirmation. A good friend of mine, a fellow Lay Dominican, encouraged her high school students to be involved at the parish so they didn’t feel “bored” at Mass. One 10th grade boy started to sing with the choir and discovered she was right: when he was involved in that part of Mass, he saw the Mass as more interesting. He had to pay attention and think about it; it was no longer something to sit through in his pew each Sunday.

But involvement doesn’t always lead to this kind of revelation, and can even become “boring” on its own. I think that helping people see that at Mass they are encountering a Person – Someone real who loves them perfectly – can do a lot towards keeping people in the pews. And further developing this idea by leading parishioners towards this reality while helping them get to know God through His Church will lead them towards a relationship. This relationship is the one that will never fail us, never diminish – it can only grow stronger the more we lean into it! – can lead to better satisfaction in every area of life. Perhaps we’d stop searching for fulfillment through our jobs, spouses, boyfriends and girlfriends, and our experiences if we realize that our fulfillment can only come when we accept God’s love and love Him back.

Barbara Nicolosi wrote about the sorry state of our catechetical programs in America’s Catholic parishes recently, and I think a lot of what she said about fixing the religious education programs in our parishes can be applied to helping people become true disciples of Christ:

The Problem

“Who can name the Gifts of the Holy Spirit?” It was Pentecost, and our pastor was walking up and down the middle aisle with a goofy grin and tone that said, “Bear with me, here.” There were a few embarrassed chuckles from the congregants who hadn’t already tuned out. Father pressed on, “Come on, anybody?” Again, the people dutifully and lightly snickered. This was supposed to be the funny set up of some point, right? I didn’t think it was funny at all. I raised my hand.

I think our pastor was a little put out because he really hadn’t intended for anyone to speak up. He made a comical face and then said, “Really?” The people laughed. Still grinning but with his hands on his hips, Father nodded at me, “Okay, let’s hear it.” So, I answered using the WUCKPuFF formula I had learned back in the third grade from Sr. Mary Randall, RSM. “Wisdom, Understanding, Counsel, Knowledge, Piety, Fortitude, Fear of the Lord.” (Probably because I am a child of the Sixties, I prefer the word “Reverence” to “Fear of the Lord,” but WUCKPuFR just doesn’t work as well as a mnemonic.)

People gasped. Father approached our pew actually shocked. He was intrigued and, I guess, figured maybe I had gotten lucky. “Stand up and say them again. Slower.” So, I did. And then our priest looked around and pointed at me and people applauded. Like I had done something extraordinary. Like I had said something brilliant. Like I was some kind of theological nerd, instead of just a fellow disciple in the pew, delineating something so catechetically pedestrian that seven-year-olds should know it before we ever think of placing the Eucharist in their little mouths. I would have been much more impressive explaining the meaning of all the gifts but Father clearly didn’t want to go that far with his little trivia moment.

At the Sign of Peace, an older woman behind me shook my hand and leaned in conspiratorially. She said with a touch of bravado, “I knew Piety.” I had to force myself not to grimace in dismay. “Peace be with you,” I rejoined.

If I was pastor of this parish, and only one person in the pews could name the Gifts of the Holy Spirit, I would reorient my entire preaching calendar for the next seven months. And every month for the next seven would be on one of the Gifts. I would drill it in at every Sunday Mass until the whole parish would know in depth and forever, what God’s life in us means, that is, the Gifts of the Holy Spirit.

Looking around the church as Father moved on to whatever his point was—it certainly wasn’t the scandal of religious ignorance—I thought to myself, “Was the Baltimore Catechism really so bad? Really?”

As silly as some people think it is, learning things from the Baltimore Catechism gives a foundation to build on. Learning prayers like the Act of Faith help us to build a relationship with God. Who can feel down for long when they think back to why God made him?

God made me to know, love, and serve Him in this life, and to be happy with Him in the next.

And

God made me out of His love and goodness.

And rote prayer has such a great depth that many people overlook, too. When nothing else comes to mind, those old, memorized prayers are a way to talk to God, to be with Him in prayer, and can be springboards into deeper contemplation and prayer.

O my God, I firmly believe that You are one God in three divine persons, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. I believe that your divine Son became Man and died for our sins, and that He will come to judge the living and the dead. I believe these and all the truths which the Holy Catholic Church teaches, because in revealing them You can neither deceive nor be deceived.

The prayers I say at Mass before I receive Holy Communion are ones that, if I read them carefully, I can contemplate on a deeper level:

Act of Love

Jesus, my God, I love you with my whole heart and above all things, because You are the one supreme Good and infinitely perfect Being. You have given Your life for me, a poor sinner, and in Your mercy You have even offered Yourself as food for my soul. My God, I love you. Inflame my heart so that I may love You more.

And these kinds of things, in the end, are what I think can help lead us to a deeper relationship with God. These kinds of things can help keep our children (and us!) Catholic. Instead of trying to simplify the faith by keeping it on a low-level, we should be reaching and stretching. Instead of still going over basic information in middle and high school, we should be delving deep into the why’s of our Faith, plumbing the deep, learning to defend the Church through apologetics. These are the kinds of things that ultimately led me to where I am now, though I still have a long way to go. Fortunately, the Catholic Church has almost 2000 years of material to study, so I don’t think I’ll run out of material or opportunities to grow closer to God.

Late, But Ready to Party! Lawn Chair Catechism!

CatholicMom.com is full of awesomeness, and I don’t say that to be self-serving. (Frankly, I’m low on that totem pole, and a newcomer to boot!)

Lisa Hendey and Sarah Reinhard have presented a great opportunity for spirtual growth this Summer called Lawn Chair Catechism. Weekly, we can “meet” online for a discussion. But allow me to let the crew at CatholicMom.com to explain better:

We’ll be using Forming Intentional Disciples: The Path to Knowing and Following Jesus by Sherry Weddell as our basis for this discussion.

Every Wednesday morning this summer, from May 29 to August 28, we’ll post a series of  discussion questions from our team here at CatholicMom.com. We’ll also have a link-sharing at the end, so others can participate.

You’ll be able to participate whether or not you have read or are reading the book. Here’s the complete discussion guide and questions (13 pages). If you just want the discussion questions, here they are (2 pages).

With thanks to Our Sunday Visitor.

From May 8 through June 6, Our Sunday Visitor will be offering the book for $10 with free shipping. From June 7 on, you can order it with free shipping from Our Sunday Visitor. Simply click here to purchase the book from them or pick it up at your nearest Catholic bookstore.

So today, despite not having the book yet (have I mentioned how busy I’ve been over the last month?), I am jumping in, using the study guide until my book arrives. I’ll be ordering my book and reading through ASAP. Join in here or at the CatholicMom.com site, or blog about your own thoughts and link up!

Session 1: Introduction

In her introduction, Sherry reveals that she has spoken to many practicing Catholics who can’t put into words their relationship with God. This asking-around started with one incident with a leader in her own parish that startled her:

Her stories were so vague that I wasn’t hearing any evidence of how God might be using her. . . . So I asked her a question that I had never asked before: Could you briefly describe to me your lived relationship with God to this point in your life?

After thinking carefully for a few moments, she responded briskly, “I don’t have a relationship with God.” Her answer stunned me. My first thoughts were, “That’s not possible. You’re a leader in your parish. You wouldn’t do that without some kind of relationship with God . . ..”

. . . By the end of the interview, I realized she had accurately described her spiritual reality.

Sherry goes on to say that this is a reality for many active Catholics, that we tend towards a passive reception of our faith which holds us back from truly engaging our culture and making a change for the good in the world around us.

For my own blogging, I’d like to stick with the personal discussion questions, which are these:

Questions for Discussion

In your own faith:

• How would you describe your lived relationship with God to this point in your life?

• What does the word “discipleship” mean to you?

• Do you perceive a need in the Church today to help lay Catholics become more fervent followers of Jesus Christ?

These are really thought-provoking! Let me jump in.

It’s a Big World: Find a Map!
Abraham Ortelius [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

My relationship with God at this point in my life is, I think, moving in a better direction than before. For a long time, I was trying to learn, but was a bit adrift – lacking direction for my journey. There are lots of roadmaps through the Catholic faith, for the countryside the Church encompasses is wide and there’s a lot of different kinds of beauty out there. Last year about this time, I was invited to a meeting of Dominican Laity; things clicked so quickly for me, that I jumped into discernment immediately and was received into the Third Order this past January. I think this is an important step for me; it gives me direction and a kind of roadmap through Catholicism that suits me well.

There are times that I feel like I’m a terrible daughter of God, though. I don’t call or write as much as I ought to, and my prayer life is not where I always think it should be. But I think I’ve come to realize that God loves me a lot. More than I can imagine. And knowing this – even without a full grasp of the depths of His love – is spurring me on to a better relationship with Him. I’m learning to be a better child of God.

Discipleship, to me, means that I am doing my best not to just follow Christ – playing by the rules of the Church, receiving Sacraments as often as possible – but that I am learning about my faith. The word disciple comes from the Latin word for student. And so discipleship is more than just following Christ and doing His will, but also being in a constant state of learning more about Him and His Church. It means that I don’t passively sit at Mass and hear the homily without really listening and striving to learn something new from Father this week. It means that if someone asks me why I do something as a Catholic (and often, that’s right here in my own home!), I learn why if I don’t know. It means I have books on the Faith and Lighthouse Media CDs in the car and Dr. Ray DVDs on the shelf.

Does that mean that the only things I watch, read, or listen to are Catholic things? Well, no. Not for me, anyway. I still love watching movies, old Firefly episodes, and listening to rock music in the car. But it does mean that I should make sure I get a healthy dose of Catholic stuff at some point during the day. (And sometimes that means that I pray a Rosary with intent, focusing on each Mystery as much as I can while I pray.)

Do you perceive a need in the Church today to help lay Catholics become more fervent followers of Jesus Christ? Yes! I think many Catholics, even those who learned the Baltimore Catechism by heart, never were taught the deeper meanings behind their beliefs – why the Church teaches those things. And that kind of passivity actually affects how we see our role in the Church. It’s funny that some people get all excited about the role of the laity, but don’t quite know what to do with it. A wonderful role for us as laity is to help educate other Catholics about the Church! (Yup, that’s what really clicks for me about the Dominicans; we’re all about the education!) I’ve seen this personally in my own life. When I was first married, I was not a good Catholic in the least. Yes, I was there most Sundays, and I never wanted to leave the Church, but it wasn’t until people started questioning me that I started to really dig deeper into my faith. The more I dug into it, the more committed I became. The more committed I became, the more my actions lined up with what the Church expects of me. I’m in no way, shape, or form done learning or growing or becoming a better Catholic, but I have more confidence that I’m on the right track. And now, when someone asks why I’m Catholic, I actually can answer that question with more than, “Because I’ve always been Catholic.”

How about you? What would you answer to these questions? Jump in the discussion here and at CatholicMom.com.

The Brick Wall

I have always homeschooled my children, beginning ten years ago when my older daughter was almost 5. Because she was born in October, she would have missed the cutoff for Kindergarten; in the meantime, she could read and had learned to write her letters and her name. Homeschooling was what we wanted for our children anyway, and so we moved ahead with it.

Our older daughter is a smart girl, and I don’t say this simply as her mother. She really is smart, and breezed through most of elementary school with hardly a worry. The only subject she had difficulty with was math; when we got to division, we literally had to put the book away until her brain could cope with it. (Mathematics requires a straight-line thinking pattern, which is nothing like the creative splotches of thinking that our girl has in her head.)

School got tougher in middle school, and she started slowing down in some subjects. Reading still came easily – even difficult books weren’t a problem – but research and organization (or the lack thereof) caused other problems. But they were relatively minor.

When we started high school last August, I looked at the daily lessons from Seton and didn’t see too much work for each day. I surmised that we might even be able to get done early with some subjects. We stumbled a bit, trying to find good study strategies that worked for her as a hands-on, kinetic learner, and eventually figured out a few tricks. But we never have been able to quite keep up with everything the way I thought we could.

I was really thrown for a loop here. I felt like I was hitting my head against the wall with her, like I had to drag her through every subject, no matter how easy it was supposed to be. Subjects that were “easy A” material still required me to be standing over her like a slave driver, constantly berating her to keep going. Focus! Pay attention! Why can’t you just do the test in a reasonable amount of time!!?? It was making us both miserable, and making me feel like I suddenly wasn’t able to teach my child any more. What was happening to me? Was I making a mistake in continuing to homeschool her? Could I even do it?

Then I read an article at Catholic Lane, and I realized that what I needed to do was staring me in the face.

Kindergarten schoolwork hit us like the proverbial ton of bricks. First, I yelled and screamed and fought with my daughter. Not my finest hour.  Then, I yelled and screamed and fought with various school and medical officials to get help for our daughter, who found reading, writing and arithmetic to be so terribly difficult. We obtained preferential seating and extra time on tests, we hired tutors, and I worked for hours with my daughter teaching her in the way she could best learn. Other parents skipped these “behavioral management techniques” and went straight to a medication regimen, but we persevered without it.

When my daughter began middle school, we realized behavioral management wasn’t enough. “We’re going to have her evaluated for medication,” my husband Manny and I informed the school’s vice-principal. “Good,” the vice-principal responded immediately. Still, I wondered and worried.

After this, I started considering the idea that perhaps it was time to deal with what I suspected for years: my 14 year old daughter likely has ADHD. I e-mailed Mike from Distracted Catholic with questions about his diagnosis and what I was seeing in my daughter. He was gracious enough to answer all of my questions, including the one where I asked if this was a familiar story to him. When he said it was, indeed, a lot like his experience, I made an appointment to have my daughter tested.

When I called, I learned that the testing was going to be out-of-pocket – the center does not file with insurance for ADHD testing – and I struggled for about five minutes with the idea that I was going to spend so much money on this test. When I realized that this could really make a difference for her, I berated myself for even questioning whether or not I should do it.

I ‘m waiting for the testing date to arrive, and First Things  has run an article on ADHD:

We really don’t have an ADHD epidemic in this country. Our brains are not less healthy than the French. Instead, we have an epidemic of parents looking for a scientific excuse for their own disappointment in their children, and we have a glut of lazy doctors willing to prescribe whatever drugs parents request.

Hyperactivity? Yes, many of our children are hyperactive. Inability to focus? Yes, many of our children cannot focus their attention on a particular task. I’m not saying that the symptoms of ADHD aren’t real. These symptoms, however, do not stem from biological imbalances that require medication. The problem isn’t our children; the problem is us. We’ve created their social context, and it’s not a place where they can thrive. It’s time to admit that parents are the problem, not the children.

Insulted is an understatement for how I felt when I read this article. I don’t really know much about how the French do things, but frankly, having someone basically telling parents like me that we’re lazy, that we’re doing a poor job of telling our children “no” when necessary, that we are trying to medicate our children into compliance makes me kind of want to scream.

I think my daughter would be surprised to learn that we’re lenient parents who don’t say “no” often enough. Heck, most people think we are, as Dr. Ray has put it when he speaks to homeschooling conferences, Quasi-Amish in the way we have raised our kids. We don’t lock them in the closet to prevent them from being exposed to the outside world, but we do shelter them from harmful influences until the time when we see that they’re mature enough to handle it. We aren’t permissive, and we don’t give in to the demands of our children. We don’t fill them with junk food, I do what I can to make things from scratch as much as possible, and we try to make sure they get lots of outdoor exercise. (Let’s face it, my 14 year old just finished up a season of soccer that started in January; she had four nights of two-hour practices every week. Our 11 year old just finished her school year schedule of dance with a minimum of three nights of dance per week. There’s lots of physical activity.) They go to Youth Group and Sunday school at church, we’ve been involved with other homeschoolers for co-ops, they go to birthday parties and hang out with friends when possible.

When I was a teacher, I did see some kids who just weren’t told “no” very often. Their parents never seemed to take my comments about their defiance seriously. And I worried that some boys were being put on medication for ADHD too liberally. I  thought that, perhaps, there was an over-diagnosis of the condition. (How many third-grade boys needed to be on meds? I seemed to have a lot in my classes.) I was extremely resistant to medicating my daughter, even though I knew she displayed a lot of the behaviors associated with ADHD, such as being wiggly, touching everything constantly, talking out of turn, lack of organization, etc.

But when I read the article by Caree Santos, I realized that maybe homeschooling didn’t have to feel like pulling teeth every. single. day. Maybe I was needlessly acting the slave driver part. Maybe – just maybe – my daughter couldn’t concentrate through no fault of her own, and she really was trying her best to do things quickly. Maybe it wasn’t my fault, and maybe it wasn’t hers.

And maybe there is something more I can do for her. 

 

ADHD
By Psyc3330 w11 (Own work) [GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html) or CC-BY-SA-3.0-2.5-2.0-1.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons

Note: I’ve asked my daughter to consider writing about this from her perspective, and asked her to read and approve what I’ve written. She will be contributing to this topic soon.

Hyperemesis Awareness Day

More people – including doctors – need to be aware of HG

 

Today, May 15, is Hyperemesis Gravidarum Awareness Day. Please take this opportunity to pray for women who suffer from HG and their families, and spread the word on this condition.

I’ve written about my own experience with HG, and was grateful to be able to do so on a bigger platform last December, when it was revealed that Princess Kate was suffering from it. (I cried off and on the whole week after I found out, in between being angry at the news for calling it “extreme morning sickness.”)

The first link above is more in-depth and more focused on the Catholic perspective, and the second link is boiled down to the nitty-gritty, and includes links to resources to help deal with HG.

What makes a woman who purposely gets pregnant with baby #2 lock herself in a bathroom and cry in fear only minutes after celebrating with her husband that the baby is on the way?Hyperemesis gravidarum, also known as HG. HG is scary stuff.

Take time this day to pray for women who suffer from HG and for their families. It’s nightmarish, and very often these women are encouraged to abort their precious children. So much support is needed, especially if there are other children in the home. It’s impossible for a family to get through HG alone.

When I heard this news [about Kate Middleton], I cried for the royal couple, because I know her pain rather intimately. I had hyperemesis gravidarum (HG) while pregnant with my own two children.

The press is describing it as “a severe form of morning sickness,” but this really doesn’t even come close to being an adequate definition. In fact, it’s pretty safe to say that unless you or someone you know has suffered through HG, you can’t quite imagine how awful it can be.

There’s beauty at the end of the HG tunnel

If you or someone you love is suffering from hyperemesis, you don’t have to do so alone. And you can get through it with the right help.

This post, related to mine at The New Parents’ Guide, has links to resources for families. Please pass it on. Use #HGaware on Twitter.

Seven Quick Takes: Holiness and Homeschool

~one~

I’ve entered my Novitiate year with the Lay Dominicans, which is now called “Received” because I’ve been accepted as someone to discern if this is, indeed, a vocation for me. There are times I’ve felt overwhelmed by the amount of work involved, and wonder how I’ll get it done, but I also know that I have plenty of time in my day which I currently fill with too-much-Twitter and goofing off. So if I apply myself and concentrate on What’s Important (or Who’s Important), I will easily be able to get my work done.

~two~

I’ve thought a lot about my vocation as a homeschooling mother, and I feel quite strongly that I am called to it as a method of sanctification. I struggle with sloth a lot, and if there was a way for me to live my life in bed with a supply of food and some fun time-wasting games to play, I probably would do that if left to my own devices. But God is not leaving me to my own devices, and I’ve become certain that my call to homeschool my children is a way to sanctify me and help me resist the temptation to waste time. When my high school daughter needs help with reviewing biology, I can’t be playing Bejeweled Blitz (now removed from my phone and Facebook). When my sixth grader needs to read history out loud, I need to help her with that instead of seeing what’s happening on Twitter.

And now  this journey with the Dominican Laity requires me to do certain things: daily Mass whenever possible, daily Rosary, daily study, meetings at least monthly. Instead of wasting time on unimportant things, I now need to become more aware of whether or not I’m doing what I ought to do. It occurred to me that between this and homeschooling, God is working to help me on a path to holiness; He, in His infinite mercy, is providing me with tools that will help me focus on my spiritual life rather than become more selfish as I get older and my children grow up and leave home. I realized today that, God willing, I will make First Promises next year and Final Promises three years after that. At that point, my younger daughter will be in tenth grade and my older daughter’s education will no longer be my responsibility. I will have found myself will fewer demands on my time which I’ve learned can be a dangerous proposition for me, spiritually speaking. So in addition to homeschooling helping me grow in holiness, I see the Lay Fraternity of Saint Dominic (LFSD) picking up where homeschooling is going to leave off in a few short years. My study with my children is going to give way to studying with the Dominicans.

~three~

Our family is going to take a trip to Boston near the end of April. I haven’t been there in more than 25 years, and I’ve never stayed there for an extended time. We’ve decided to walk the Freedom Trail, go see Old Ironsides, and (thanks to the generosity of my mother-in-law) take in a Red Sox game. I am resisting the urge to wear ALL of my Yankees gear to the game. Besides, everyone should go to Fenway if they can. Plus, and this is a great thing, we’ll get to see family we haven’t seen in ages! I’m looking forward to it, that is when I remember that I’m going somewhere. (I really need to get that Packing Pro app out and prepare a bit.)

~four~

We’re ahead, but let’s not let them get close to catching up.

Related to the Red Sox, I actually have a relative who had been the executor for the will of the Red Sox’s owners. So even though our family is filled with die-hard Yankees fans (and with a family history in The Bronx, can you blame us?), there was also a little bit of support for the Sox. Personally, I liked them better when they were under The Curse. Now that they’re constantly a threat to adding another ring, not so much.

~five~

Our family dealt with lots of sickness this winter. It seemed we’d never all be well, and things ranged from constant sniffles to low-grade fevers to flat-out scary temperatures that (for my 14 year old) topped 104º. Now that we all seem to be well (with the exception of allergies that are magnified by EVERYTHING blooming at once in our much-delayed Spring), I’m taking stock on where we are, school-wise, for the year. We’ve strived to keep up with some subjects that are tied to the co-op we’re involved with, but others will have to be finished in June or even (gulp) July. One thing I’ve finally figured out is that there are some optional parent activities with Seton Homeschool that I don’t need to do if I’m pressed for time. High school is definitely challenging, but I think I’m finally figuring it out. That I’ve done this before my older daughter is finished with her first year makes me happy. I hate when she bears the brunt of my ill-preparedness. However, we’ve figured out some strategies for her to maximize her retention, which can be a challenge for a tactile learner in a book-centered education.

One thing that will be really excellent is that at the end of it all, she’ll have an official transcript. This is going to be very helpful if and when she goes to college. And it’s also nice that someone else can take a look at her work and give tips on how to get up to snuff.

~six~

I started a series on Project Yummy Veggies this past week, and I hope to get back to it again this coming week. One key is that I need to renew my Flickr Pro account so I can link to the pictures in that set instead of uploading everything here. But I’m definitely going to blog more about it and keep up with how it’s going.

~seven~

Even though it’s Spring (not Fall), I can’t stop hearing this song in my head.

***Jennifer isn’t hosting Seven Takes this week, and I suppose this counts as an eighth, but her family could sure use some prayers. Her comments are closed right now, but please lift her and her family up in prayer right now. Head over to Grace’s blog for the rest of Seven Quick Takes this week.

Thanking God for the Dryness

The Floor of Death Valley – By Paxson Woelber (Own work) [CC-BY-SA-3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons

So many people have written about spiritual dryness in ways far superior to what I could probably do. Jennifer Fulwiler wrote recently about it, describing it as a mid-life crisis that, at the root, is about a growing understanding that God is the only thing we will have left in the end:

At least for me, a mid-life crisis is nothing more or less than a realization that every day brings us a little closer to that point when all we have left is God, and that we may be closer to that point than we thought we were. It sounds kind of depressing, like something I’d shout into the phone at Joe at 3 PM when I’m exhausted and the baby won’t nap and someone just spilled yogurt on the wall (“ALL I HAVE LEFT IS GOD!!!”), but it’s really quite inspiring. To go through a mid-life crisis and to come out the other side is to go through a process of purification, in which you accept the things that are gone, and realize that they were were never the source of true happiness to begin with.

Her collection of posts on spiritual dryness has been inspiring to me, and really helpful on a number of levels. For one, I had never heard of this idea (or a “Dark Night of the Soul,” as Saint John of the Cross described it) until about 8 years ago, when I was describing to a friend my horrible experiences with hyperemesis and the deep depression I felt the second time through it. I’d been blessed with great consolations in my faith as a child, and when I lacked them during my second pregnancy, it was panic-inducing.

…While I had great hope each day when I was pregnant with Big Girl, it was not so this time. When the HG struck me, I went into a deep depression. My OB sent me directly to the same high-risk OB as last time, and I was put on Thorazine right away. This time, though, it didn’t work as well. Whereas, with Big Girl, each night I went to sleep thinking that the next day might be better, this time I went to sleep thinking, “I have 20 weeks of this hell to get through.” It was devastating to my Faith. I knew God was there, but I felt abandoned. I could not feel Him there at all. I could not even pray. I brought my father to tears when I asked him why God was punishing me. I never, ever considered abortion with either pregnancy, but this time I would wish for miscarriage just so the pain would end. …

Only later, when talking about it with a friend, did I ever hear of spiritual dryness or dark nights. While I had never doubted God was there, many times the only thing I could think of when I wanted to pray was part of Psalm 22: My God, my God! Why have You forsaken me?

And yet, once she mentioned this to me, I began to see it in other places, too. Many saints experienced the same thing, and when I learned that Blessed Mother Teresa had a dark night of the soul that lasted nearly 40 years, it brought me to tears. Here was a woman, I thought, who never doubted God’s existence and worked to fulfill His will for her, even when she had no consolations. It’s a comfort to know that not only ordinary people, but even those we look to as saints, experience this dryness.

By Tom Bayly from England (British Night Sky Uploaded by russavia) [CC-BY-SA-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons

This past Lent, I began to feel this spiritual dryness. Occasionally, I’d get a break-through of emotion and feel graces flowing, but most, it’s been dry. I feel rotten about my own prayer because it feels so rote. I don’t feel as though I’m growing spiritually, and it’s a struggle to fulfill even the most basic of spiritual tasks.

It’s Easter, and all my Catholic friends are rejoicing and Alleluia-ing everywhere. And I’m here struggling to get to evening Mass or sit through Adoration. I pray “Alleluia” during Lauds and Vespers, but I don’t feel it. I know He is Risen (truly, He is risen!), and yet my heart doesn’t feel it.

And yet I know that if I persevere in prayer and continue to feed my soul by going to Mass when I don’t feel like it, praying a Rosary when I’m not in the mood, maintaining my morning and evening prayers, that this is like watering and feeding plants during a drought: the roots will grow deeper and stronger, and when the drought is over, big things can happen.

Saint Thomas Aquinas

And so I’m trying to thank God for the dryness I’m still experiencing. If I keep going, I will grow in maturity. If I maintain and pray anyway, I will grow stronger. If I wait on the Lord, He will not disappoint. I know this. And what I’m also grateful for is that I even know this. It’s such a help to understand that it’s not bad that spiritual dryness happens. It’s not my fault. It’s not wrong. It’s okay. God is here with me in the darkness, even if I can’t see Him. The words of Saint Thomas Aquinas – though meant to describe the Eucharist – also apply here:

Faith for all defects supplying,
Where the feeble senses fail.

At some point, I’m sure that consolation will return, and I’ll cry tears of joy for it. But in the meantime, I’m going to keep feeding my soul whether I feel it or not. And I’ll thank God for His mercy and love, even when I don’t feel it readily.

Inheritance

During Lauds today, I was struck by an idea that humbled me greatly. In the reading for the Thursday after Ash Wednesday, something new sunk in for me about its meaning.

READING See 1 Kings 8:51-53a

We are your people and your inheritance, O Lord. May your eyes be open to the petition of your servant and to the petition of your people Israel. Hear us whenever we call upon you, because you have set us apart among all the peoples of the earth for your inheritance.

I’ve heard the Responsorial Psalm again and again wherein we proclaim “You are my inheritance, O Lord,” but I only today realized – and this after reading it twice and contemplating it for a while – that this is not the same thing. Here, we are being told that we are an inheritance to God Himself!

I’ve always thought about God being my own inheritance, the great treasure that I am given as a gift. This inheritance is something I should care for and keep safe; my faith must be nurtured so that I never lose sight of the great treasure that God is to me.

But me being an inheritance to the Lord?

I am awed that I am anything at all to Him Who created everything! The God who spoke the universe into being treasures me? Loves me? Who am I that He would care for me at all? 

The fact is, I’ve done nothing to deserve this. As a matter of fact, it’s likely the opposite. If I showered a person with gifts each day and did everything I could to help them be happy, yet that person ignored me most of the time and threw away most of the gifts I gave him, I don’t think I’d consider him much of a treasure. I’d consider him an ingrate.

Yet in spite of the fact that I often treat God like Someone to bail me out of trouble every time I go astray, He treasures me. He calls to me daily, asking me to come closer to Him and trust Him. He never stops looking for me on the horizon.

Lord, let me work daily to live up to the image of me being an inheritance to You. Let me learn to love and trust You and to be more deserving of such a title.

 

Bending the Knee

During the Divine Office, I’ve noticed that there are occasionally readings that refer to the idea that every knee will bend for God, and specifically for Jesus, to acknowledge that He is Lord. Not long ago, Father Dwight Longnecker wrote about how many Christians have a view of Jesus that would preclude them from bending the knee:

I had this uncle–my Dad’s brother who everybody loved. Uncle Don was a terrific guy. He had a heart of gold. He was the sort of uncle who gave you a nickname and a big hug. He seemed to like everybody. He was a pastor for a while, but then dropped out because the religious people were such a pain. He spent the rest of his working life teaching kids with special needs. Uncle Don was kind, wise, loving and affirming. He passed away a few years ago, and he’s much missed.

In teaching the eighth graders this morning I told them about Uncle Don and said the main problem with Christianity is that 90% of Christians–and this includes 90% of Catholics–believe that Jesus is no more than Uncle Don. They want what Fr Barron calls “the domesticated Jesus.” They want a Jesus who tells stories, gathers the kiddies up into his lap and reaches out to touch and heal and forgive. They don’t want Aslan. They want a tame lion. They want Jesus to be like my Uncle Don.

This is certainly not to knock the Uncle Dons of this life. Would that we were blessed with more of them.

But  Jesus is more than Uncle Don. He’s the Son of God. He’s the  Lord of Lords. He’s Christus Pantokrator–Christ the Lord of All.

As much as we love the Uncle Dons, no one is going to bend the knee to him.

But Scripture says multiple times that all of humanity will bend the knee to God, worship Him and acknowledge His majesty.

“To Me Every Knee Shall Bend”

This action is not because anyone is forced to do so, though there are some people who do not understand this. These people might see Christianity as something that mandates obedience, demands fealty to a God who is vengeful and punishing.

But this is a great misunderstanding of Who God is. God does want our obedience, but He cannot – and does not – force us to give it. We all have free will, and if it weren’t so, there would be no atheists. We all have the choice to love God in return (for He always loves us and is always faithful, even when we are not), or to reject His love. We can bend the knee or not.

At some point, we will all have to accept the Kingship of Christ Jesus, as Revelation points out. But until that day comes – when Jesus comes in His glory – we have the choice whether or not we’ll acknowledge Who Jesus is.

Until then, we decide whether or not we’ll live our lives as people who know the Truth. So what causes some people to willingly give praise and worship to God – to bend the knee?

Really, what happens to a person who has made the decision to live an authentically Christian life, who happily serves God and would even go so far as to call himself a slave for Christ, is that he has glimpsed a bit of God’s glory. When someone sees a glimpse of Who God truly is, and gains a bit of understanding of His great, unbounded love for us all, he wants to bend the knee. There’s little that can stop a person who sees this Love – even a tiny portion of it! – from wanting to do everything for God, including bending the knee.

This worship isn’t from servile fear or even from duty, but from pure love.

The clip below shows a young woman who has glimpsed this Love and has decided to give her entire life over to Him Who is Love.

The look on her face when she talks about God as her Spouse … I get that look on my face when I talk about my husband. And the things I do for my husband and family are not duties that are done because I’m forced to, but things I do willingly for love of them. The running around to dance and soccer, the laundry and cooking, the arranging of parties and get-togethers … these are things that I do because I love my family, not because someone is forcing me to do them.

And this is the crux of it: when we love the Lord, when we glimpse His glory and power and love for us, we want to do everything we can for him. We can’t help but bend the knee! It’s done out of a genuine, joyful love.

As You Wish

Our family has been on quite the roller-coaster since arriving back home from the March for Life and my evening being received as a Third Order Dominican on the Feast of Saint Thomas Aquinas. I was sick, my older daughter is currently sick, and I’m holding my breath and praying that, should my younger daughter come down with whatever this is, my husband does not. (He’s got business trips lined up for several weeks in a row, and actually missed the worst of my illness last week.)

My Divine Office was pretty much put aside as I merely tried to cope with being sick, or dealing with a very sick child in the night. (Yes, even 14 year olds need their mom in the middle of the night sometimes, even if it’s for the purposes of running tepid baths and praying for 104 degree fevers to break.)

This morning, I was almost half-heartedly praying, still too weak and woozy to stand for prayers as I prefer. Any effort is better than none, I reminded myself. And I got to the reading for today, Sunday of Week IV, Lauds. It’s from 2 Timothy:

READING:  2 Timothy 2:8, 11-13

Remember that Jesus Christ, a descendant of David,
was raised from the dead. You can depend on this:
If we have died with him
we shall also live with him;
If we hold out to the end
we shall also reign with him.
But if we deny him he will deny us. If we are unfaithful
he will still remain faithful, for he cannot deny himself.

That last part (which I emphasized above) has always puzzled me. If we are unfaithful he will still remain faithful… I would look at it and just mentally scratch my head and concentrate on the rest of the reading. I’ve heard this hundreds of times in Masses over the years, and I have never really gotten it until today.

Now I feel like I’ve been extra-thick.

The first image that came to mind was The Princess Bride, in which Wesley tells Buttercup that he will always come for her:

When she thinks him dead, Buttercup no longer waits for Wesley and lives as though under a cloud, her radiance diminished by her sorrow for losting her true love. Her joy at discovering that her true love lives brings back her happiness, and Wesley chides her for not believing in true love:

 

 

Embraced Immediately by the Father Who Loves Us

Finally, I realized what it means to say that if we are unfaithful he will still remain faithful, for he cannot deny himself. No matter how much we might deny Him, God will always look for us, searching the horizon for his prodigal sons and daughters. He loves us, and will never give up hope that we will turn our hearts to Him again and come home. Like the father of the prodigal son, His desire is to have all of His children with him, happy and safe in His home. He seeks us out, calls to us from the distance, though we often ignore Him and pretend not to hear. He watches for us – how else could the father in the parable have seen his son “at a great distance” – and when we appear on the horizon, still a long way from being really, truly home, He runs to us and embraces us with the kind of love we can never truly understand in this life.

Before today, when I stumbled in my vocation (which is pretty much daily, let’s face it), I would feel badly on a number of levels. I’m disappointing my husband. I’m failing my children. I’m not doing what God wants of me. I’m hurting God by not doing His will for my life. (Who likes to watch as their children do things that will hurt them, especially when you can do nothing to stop them?)

But today I understand on a deeper level that even when I break God’s heart by turning away from Him, even when I tell Him that I can do what I want because I have free will, He never stops loving me, longing for my return to Him, and searching the horizon for me.

And when I appear on the horizon, He will run to meet me and embrace me with the desperately strong love He has for me as my Father. And I’ll always be welcome, no matter how many times I have to repeat the scene.

Praise be to God!