Remember the Magi

Between today and the 6th of January, Christians everywhere will mark their doorways with the signs 20 + C + M + B + 16.  Caspar, Melchior, Balthasar, the traditional names of three mad kings who went away and were never the same.  Don't take my word for it.  Hear it from T.S. Eliot:

I love this poem for its brutal honesty.  Cause sometimes searching for God isn't all angels-on-high and rocks crying out.  It's hard work.  It's uncomfortable.  It means tears and sleepless nights.  It means traveling in the wilderness (waste land).  We think of the wise men following the star like a lighthouse in a storm, but Scripture doesn't say anything about the star leading the way.  They tell Herod, "We saw his star when it rose. . ."  The next thing we hear in Matthew,

After they had heard the king, they went on their way, and the star they had seen when it rose went ahead of them until it stopped over the place where the child was.  When they saw the star, they were overjoyed.  (NIV)

The magi saw the star as a summons, not a safety net.  They embarked on an arduous journey knowing neither when nor where the destination.  There is no mention of the star until it appears again over Bethlehem.  Between those two times, they made their way in darkness.

Remembering that they had seen the star, believing it, that's the epiphany.  That is faith.

Liturgical Lifestyle | Martinmas

We've a long winter ahead of us.  The days are drawing up short at 5:30 pm.  But Saint Martin brings one last exhale of summer (what's now called Indian Summer) to gird us for the cold days coming.

Martinmas is a light festival.  But unlike the bonfires of All Souls' and All Saints', its lights are subtle.  Tiny flames tucked into lanterns remind us to keep the light of Christ kindled through this last stretch before Advent.

It's a time for giving in the spirit of Saint Martin, and I think for our ancestors it was a simultaneous act of faith and piety to give so freely so soon before winter, after the last of autumn slaughters.  Give in times of plenty and it'll be easier to give in times of less.  I've seen this working in mine and others' lives.

In true celebration, we ate cake first--this was a madeira cake John brought home from the store--followed by our feast of sage stuffed chicken and roasted vegetables.

Lest I give the wrong impression--I did not make extravagant preparations!  All these things were bought pre-baked and ready-to-cook.  Our little feast was thrown together the evening of.  Many people have emphasized simplicity and smallness when starting to celebrate the liturgical year, so I won't reiterate, except to say that to become fluent in the liturgical lifestyle, you have to start somewhere.

Liturgical Lifestyle | Remembering Our Dead

November is the month of the dead.

It's Hallowtide, the beginning of the month we give over to deceased souls, and while October is breathless and busy, November brings a dead-stop, like the drop of a curtain.  After today, All Souls' Day, comes a time of rest and recovery, for sitting in your bones and not doing, before the preparation and expectation of Advent.

I love November, I really do.  All of autumn is like one big, cozy bedtime, and I think that's why I love it.  It's the cosmic equivalent of getting into your jammies and slippers and sipping a mug of herbal tea in front of the fire before climbing under the quilt and turning in for the night.

Let me broken-record (verb) about how the seasons of the Church correspond with the seasons of the western hemisphere (where she was born).  How it's organic and natural and second-nature.  And if we feel a sense of something not-quite-finished, especially when we think of those gone before us, it is because we're not.  Finished, I mean.  Death isn't the end.  We know that as Christians.  But if anything of reality can be gathered from the natural world, it's that this November stillness is only temporary.  There will be work and new life and redemption to come.

So we pray for the dead.  Because, before the Incarnation, we could only hold our breath and hope, rightfully, that Someone would have mercy and not end us at what appeared to be our natural end.  And now our hope is given hands.  With the dying God, we can work because He is pleased to see us do for one another.  So we pray for the people who have died in good faith, and ask that for them the way is made smooth and brief.  Which it then is, because our Father is one who delights in giving gifts.

Please don't forget them.  Don't think it's "the end," even a happy ending.  Because before the fairy tale's happy end, the peasant girl doesn't go in rags to her wedding feast with the king.  She must be prepared.  We will go on knees in the graveyard and paint our faces like death's heads to jar ourselves to remember.

Please remember my loved ones, and yours.  And remember me when I go, too.  We're all the walking dead, which is a good thing.  You have to put the peasant girl to rest in order that the queen might live.

Here is my Hallowtide summary from a few years ago.

Here is St. Gertrude's Prayer.  When prayed it releases a thousand souls from Purgatory into Eternal Glory.

On Living Intentionally

(Note: This post was written in July, before coming to Wales.)

The knowledge of my limitations has been growing especially this past month.  With all the driving and sleeping--things necessary for the successful and healthy/happy functioning of myself and my children for the other parts of the day--I have less time than ever.  Therefore, I have had to become extremely intentional with how I spend that time.

Aside from sleeping, eating, bathing, driving, the chores of laundry, cooking, and dishes I try to tackle as they come; but they can be put off for a while.  This is carefully considered taking into account whether or not I have enough clothing, food, and clean cutlery to function for the rest of the day, and whether or not I will have enough of a time slot to accomplish them in the foreseeable future, before I do run out of them.

I'm doubling the use of my time by listening to audio books during the long drives.  And even during short ones.  I take naps whenever I can get them, drink a lot of Starbucks Refreshers, and run errands as they come up--like going to the bank or the grocery store.  Maybe a brief outing or a sweet treat for a feast day.

Skyping with my husband is important but not immediate.

The rest I have had to weigh in order of importance and value.  Value being the amount of joy, rest, or spiritual refreshment I get from the task or activity.  Because spiritual food is just as important as physical.

Right now, my intentional living must include the following: reading (or audio books), blogging (writing), playing with Roan (this can be in chunks scattered throughout the day), and bed-time routine/reading with Afon.  Those are the non-negotiables.  If I don't whip up a three-course dinner, answer my friend's email, or do my makeup one day, I'm okay with it.  Some things need to make way in order for the things of greater importance to get done.

This translates to the bigger picture, at least during my child-rearing years.  I know I won't be able to try, much less excel, at the {all of my interests}.  If I had to choose only a handful to focus on for the rest of my life, they would be these:

Writing  //  via blogging, poetry, journaling, or storytelling.  I would drop all other hobbies in order to preserve this first and last love.

Photography  //  it is important to me to capture the little daily wonders and the to document the blossoming of my children.  It is also greatly relaxing for me to sit back and edit/process photographs at the end of the day, or when I need a mental break.

Liturgical living  //  aside from prayer, Mass attendance, and the other obligations of the practicing Catholic, I strive to be aware of the liturgical calendar and incorporate the rhythms of the Church into daily life.

What about you?  Do you struggle to live intentionally?  What are your non-negotiable necessities?

Liturgical Lifestyle | July

The dog days are upon us, and they are stormy, as Saint Swithin would have it.  This bishop of Winchester died July 2nd, but in the Anglican Church his feast is celebrated on July 15th.  It rained on both days.

St. Swithin's day if thou dost rain
For forty days it will remain
St. Swithin's day if thou be fair
For forty days ‘twill rain nae mair.

There was no hope for us.

It's meant a lot of slow, careful driving to and from school in the downpour, dashing into the store under lead-weight raindrops, and only just getting out to the pool in time to pack up and leave again.  Thanks, Saint Swithin.  You're the best.  ;)

Indpendence Day was rained out, but Afon had a lot of fun jumping on the trampoline (and maybe I did too, shhhh), and then we went to Sonic and continued to be in the rain while Afon lolled around on the concrete.

Saint Benedict's Day was the 11th, and since the Benedictines are our resident monks, we were able to visit the abbey to offer a little prayer.

July 13th was Saint Mildred's memorial, and this book on the {Life of St. Mildred} is free and fun to read.  Just right for little mouthfuls of rainy summer afternoon reading.  I'm bookmarking it as one of my future favorites.

Roan also turned six months old on the 14th!  I love having a January baby.

The rest of the season was stuffed with saints' days, but we had our hands full with baptisms, aunty visits, summer plans, and a stomach bug.

Early August is a time of penance in preparation for Mary's Assumption, but we've no plans to fast this year.  What do you and your family usually do to observe this solemnity?

If religion doesn't matter. . .

Every now and then, I post something that could be controversial.  I thank you kindly for keeping the discussion respectful and retain the right to delete and block any commenters whom I feel are not remaining so.

I was browsing Instagram, one of my favorite pastimes, as it can be done through snatches of seconds at a red light or while waiting for the bacon to sizzle.  The hashtags are so interesting.  But I came upon one I found curious, almost amusing.  It was #religiondoesntmatter.

The sentiment was encouraging.  One would think it the signature hashtag of atheists and agnostics, and that would make sense in that case.  They would say religion doesn't matter because all religion is false.  But it turns out that the hashtag appeared in support of various religions, and that made it all the more confusing.  Why, if religion doesn't matter, are the Instagramers members of any religion at all?

They'd probably say something like, "Because we like it."  And to that I'd say, so?  

It doesn't matter if we like it.  Because it doesn't matter.  And if it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter in any circumstances.  And why do we expend any energy whatsoever on something that doesn't matter?  There are certainly other worthy endeavors we could be lending our precious time to: like writing the next great American novel, traveling the globe, or spending time with family.

(This is not to say that those who struggle or doubt are hypocrites.  It is not hypocrisy to say with the apostles, "Lord, to whom should we go?  You have the words of everlasting life.")

It reminded me of a conversation I had with a religious Sister and a few others.  A person said, "I don't think my religion is better--or more true--than anyone else's."  

I replied, "I hope you do.  I hope you love your faith or religion or beliefs with the fierceness of a mother's love.  Otherwise, what's the point?  Why bother practicing religion?  If there is one you find better, you should belong to it.  Or keep searching until you find your preference."

It's what C.S. Lewis means in his introduction to {Mere Christianity}, when he writes about his book being only the hall in a large house with many doors.  One does not stay in the corridor but "above all you must be asking which door is the true one; not which pleases you best by its paint and paneling."

At this point, the Sister mumbled something which, to this day, is one of the saddest things I have ever heard.  "I can't leave my religion; I've been Catholic all my life and am too old too become anything else now."

I don't pity her.  She's a good woman and doubtless has done much more pleasing in the eyes of God than my feeble prayers and half-hearted Mass attendance.  To pity someone is God's work, and I am not fit to pity anyone.  Rather, it makes me grateful.  Grateful that I should have been born into, through no virtue of my own, this most beautiful of faiths, and the last living home of truth, goodness, and beauty on this old, tired planet.  And sad that there are some who are not partakers of the banquet at which is served the Eternal Bread from Heaven.

Mental Health for Catholics

I think that as Catholics and Christians we are afraid to own up to mental health issues: anxiety, depression, OCD, etc.  It's daunting by its very nature, and because we feel the responsibility to be the face of Christ to the world, we may think that we have no right to complain, much less admit a weakness.  After all, aren't we supposed to be happy?  It obviously means you just haven't prayed enough/found peace in your life/accepted Jesus Christ as your Lord and savior, right?

Wrong.

If Jesus Himself could agonize in the garden, I think it's safe to say that "lesser beings" can expect their fair share of trauma.  After all, Jesus didn't promise us that we'd be always happy if we followed Him.  He promised us eternal happiness, and a peace that surpasses understanding.  And that can look very different from what the world commonly calls "happy."

That said, I've noticed a peculiar sort of "Catholic mindset" when it comes to mental health issues.  I'm not an expert, but I wanted to put these things out there for consideration.  I know I've learned a lot of the following the hard way in my life and wish someone had approached me with them.

Remember, always consult your doctor or a professional before making any major life changes.

1 // Don't use religion as a crutch.

I still have difficulty sometimes seeing when I am manipulating my faith to do or not do something that I want.  It's why it's good to have a trusted spiritual director, therapist, or healthy friend to talk things over with (see #4).

One (extreme) example of this would be staying in an abusive relationship because of Catholic teaching on divorce.  It's hard to give more subtle examples because faith and our daily functioning are so nuanced and personal.  I just try to ask myself, "Am I doing this because I really do care to about my faith or because I'm looking for an excuse to avoid dealing with the real issues?"

2 // Distance the people that hurt and don't help.

I know you want to balk at that.  I still do.  It sounds so mean.  Opposite of what we're supposed to do as Christians, right?  To be nice and love everybody?  How can we make excuses to reject people?

Here's the thing: God made you you, and nobody else.  That means you have a special responsibility to yourself.  And if other people are detrimental to that most important of responsibilities, after trying reasonably to make it work, you are completely justified in limiting contact, or even cutting them off.

Let me say that again:

You are completely justified in cutting off the people whose relationships are poisonous to you.

That doesn't make you a bad Christian.  Just a smart one.

3 // Take care of yourself.

Again, to those raised in a Christianity-saturated environment, this might set off alarm bells that they are a hair's breadth from hell due to sloth and wicked indulgence.  There is a difference between being selfish and reaching your finite human limits.  Know them.  Embrace them.  Honor them.  Don't let other people shame you into thinking you are being lazy and selfish and a bad Christian.  Remember Jesus stopped his preaching and His work and went up to the mountain to rest in prayer.

4 // Talk to someone.

If you keep things from airing out, you're likely to suffocate.  Sin and evil can't live in the light.  The truth shall set you free.  Speak up.  If all the people you know are too close to your situation, or if you feel worse after talking to them, find someone else--someone you don't know, but someone who will listen and care.  Talk to a priest, a minister, a therapist.  Go to Confession or schedule an appointment.

What do you think?  Are Catholics and Christians in general harder on themselves when it comes to mental health?  Do you have any other advice for navigating the treacherous waters of life and mental illness?

∆∆∆

For further reading:

• {5 Things that Make Me a Better Mama to My Children} at Everything to Someone
• {7 Ways to Pull Yourself Back from Burnout} at Whole Parenting Family
• {What I Didn't Know I'd Lost from PPD} at A Knotted Life

Liturgical Lifestyle | May

May flew by, and now we are in the thick of summer.  In central Florida, the humidity is palpable; it has a certain smell.  A wet, dewey, heavy green scent.

We kickstarted Mary's month with a visit to the grotto, where we offered prayers and placed tulips.  A lovely tradition is to do a May crowning, and although I saw all the Mary statues in all the parishes I've visited appropriately wreathed in blossoms, I didn't know of any official ceremony or prayer gathering.

In other parts of the world, there are dances around the May Pole and excursions into woods for flowers.  In Wales, it was called Calan Haf and people gathered hawthorne.  Sad that those traditions are all but lost now.

Mother's Day falls on May 9th in this country, which I suppose is appropriate as it is Mary's month, though its founding has nothing to do with that.  In the UK, Mother's Day is always in Lent.  It originated as {Mothering Sunday}, a time in pre-Reformation days when the Catholics made a pilgrimage home to their mother church or parish.

Wish we could somehow rework this philosophy back into our modern Mother's Day, but I don't see how.  Maybe in future, my family will give up American Mother's Day for the traditional Mothering Sunday, as I aim to value Church holidays over secular ones.  (Always planning, never doing, that's me!)

Then we celebrated Holy Mother Church's birthday on Pentecost, and we all wore red (of some kind) to Mass that morning!

I briefly entertained the idea of doing a Marian consecration, as I started but never finished 33 Days to Morning Glory last year.  But it was not the time.  I'm not discouraged.  Mary will always be ready and waiting, and I don't need a special month or time of year to accept her invitation to better learn how to love her Son.

How was your May?

7 Quick Takes

-- one --

Transitioning from one blog domain to another can take up to 48 hours, says GoDaddy.com.  Sorry for the inconvenience, say I.  Hope to have it settled soon.  I really wish I had just been able to buy the everything to someone dot com domain name (someone else snatched it up about a week before I could about two years ago).  C'est la vie.

-- two --

Spent all of Wednesday--really, like about twelve hours--preparing, decorating, shooting, and editing for these {photography mini sessions}.

Thanks to my mom and husband for pitching in with the kids and set up!

I'm really excited to work with this set and theme; and continuing to develop and discover my personal style!  Praying some lovely people will take me up on my offer.

-- three --

You know what I've been really into lately?  Southern Charm.  It's much more engaging than the Real Housewives.  I find the characters--well, real people--interesting and sympathetic.  Also, maybe it's just because I'm half Southern belle, but I enjoy observing that society and can identify with it somewhat.

-- four --

I am really grateful for this blog hop on {maternal anxiety and depression}.

I've lived with depression since I was at least nine years old; it's not something I volunteer to talk about just because, well, I feel like people aren't interested or I don't want to burden them--and then, there's always the stigma that goes with it, from people who don't understand.  People who think you can just snap out of it, like a bad hair day.

Being a mom to an autistic child and having depression normally, as well as my difficult family situation (my husband and I live in separate countries) has sewn anxiety in my life like a field of wretched weeds.

And then, well, there's ante-pardum depression.  Maybe a caused by my {hyperemesis gravidarum}, maybe not.  But whatever it is, it's bad enough for me to stop blogging.  Which is pretty bad.

So it's really good to read the open-air honesty from these women and know I'm not the terrible mother I sometimes believe myself to be.

-- five --

This past week, on Everything to Someone:

• {Blogging and Transparency}
• {What Roan Wore: Old Navy and Arrows}

-- six --

Something fun I made you:

-- seven --

Are you curious about this half medieval, half literary version of Christianity of mine?  It's all perfectly acceptable within the Church, I assure you.

If you were raised a Catholic but aren't sure what all the fuss is about, or don't know much about the Catholic Church and are kinda  curious about what the horse's mouth has to say about it, we Catholic bloggers are getting into the spirit (or, Spirit--ha!) with {the Credo Project}.

Join us!  Or check us out!

I'll say the Catholic Church, whether Eastern Rite or Western, is the only place I know of that can seamlessly synthesize {headcovering and public breastfeeding}.  It's just that awesome.

Joining Kelly for {Seven Quick Takes Friday}.

Blogging and Transparency

I've been blogging on and off since 2004--way back in the dark ages of the internet, I know!  I suffered my fair share of growing pains regarding privacy, other people's personal affairs, and the dread disease TMI.

But if you're a blogger, you blog because you want to connect with people.  Otherwise, you'd be jotting everything down in a paper journal rather than, well, publishing it!  It's a given that you'd want a certain amount of honesty about yourself (if you've a lifestyle blog that deals with your life, that is).

I didn't really intend for this to be a Catholic mommy blog.  It just sort of happened.  Because I'm a mother.  And I'm Catholic.  And those are integral to who I am.  So naturally, I share a lot about my children, including photos.  (I often worry about isolating childless and single people.  I never really worry about isolating non-Catholics.  (Because {Catholicism is awesome}.  And I make no apologies.))

It's hard to navigate the treacherous ocean that is the net.  I'm silent about a lot of things that may leave readers puzzled, to respect my family's privacy.  I want to be honest and open, but I also want to maintain a certain degree of that privacy.  It's not an easy balance to strike, and I'm still waffling my way about it.

What do you think?  If you're a blogger (or even just on Facebook or Instagram), how do you choose how much to share and what to keep private?  If you're a reader, at what point do you feel that a blogger or journalist loses authenticity?  And how do we honor and protect our children throughout?