"Mount Carmel, in what is today northern Israel, has always been a place rich in mystical tradition. The word hakkarmel means "the garden" in Hebrew, and true to its title, there is a remarkable profusion of plants and wildflowers on this mountain. It is considered a natural paradise and a sacred place, and in biblical times it was forbidden to disturb any of the natural life on it. Those who wanted to ascend the mountain for meditation lived in caves so as not to intrude on the landscape with unnatural structures.
In about 860 B.C., the prophet Elijah (also known as Elias) arrived on this holy mountain to begin a life of contemplation and prayer. The First Book of Kings is filled with tales of wonders he performed and prophesies he gave. In his prophetic visions on Mount Carmel, Elijah became aware of the coming of the mother of the Messiah. He and his followers mystically dedicated themselves to her, setting an example as the first monks. The descendants of these ancient contemplatives were among the first to accept the teachigns of Christ and to be baptized by His apostles. Upon meeting Mary after Christ's Ascension, they were so overcome by her sanctity that they returned to the mountain to build a chapel in her honor. For the next thousand years, Mount Carmel continued to be a place where hermits devoted themselves to prayer. By the twelfth century, pilgrims from Europe who had followed teh Crusades to the Holy Land settled with the ascetics on Carmel and started a religious holy order known as the Brothers of the Blessed Virgin Mary of Mount Carmel. Their rule, which was given by in 1209 by the Patriarch of Jerusalem, says that all converges towards the contemplation of God. The Rule of Mysticism exhorts those who follow it to live a life of continual prayer, obedience to a superior, perpetual abstinence and fasting, manual work, and total silence.
Simon Stock, an English pilgrim, had joined the group on a visit to Jerusalem. At this time, Saracen invaders forced the monks out of their spiritual home on Mount Carmel. All those who would not leave were murdered. Simon Stock was instrumental in getting the order to move to Aylesford, England, where the Baron de Grey gave them a manor house. The Carmelite lifestyle of contemplation, poverty, and silent prayer was not easily accepted in Europe, particularly among the clergy who enjoyed almost the same status as royalty. Reading into the life of Mary, Simon Stock was inspired by her unquestioning acceptance of all that befell her; her virgin pregnancy, her raising and loving a child doomed to be executed; and her staying at the foot of the Cross while others ran away. It was through his insistence that the Carmelites evolved from a band of hermit ascetics who regretted the loss of their home on Mount Carmel into a traveling society of mendicant friars, opening schools and mission houes in the major capitals of Europe. Still it was difficult for many monks to accept the alteration of the rule fo the order to adapt to European conditions. Their presence was also shunned and not easily tolerated by other religious orders. The peopel thought the hermits strange and did not accept that they chose to live in such absolute poverty and isolation. In order to preserve what was left of their order, teh Carmelites invoked their patroness, the Virgin Mary, for help in establishing their new life.
The answer came in a vision to Saint Simon Stock on July 16, 1251, when he was alone in his cell. Mary appeared to him holding the scapular of his order. She told him, "Receive my beloved son, this habit of thy order; this shall be to thee and to all Carmelites a privilege, that whosoever dies clothed in this shall never suffer eternal fire. . . It shall be a sign of slavation, a protection in danger, and a pledge of peace."
The scapular, two pieces of brown wool joined at the shoulders and hanging down the back and breast, was not new to the Carmelite order. For hundreds of years before Saint Simon Stock's vision, monks in Europe had worn scapulars. But it is thought that the brown scapular that Mary delivered was referencing Elijah's camel-hair garment on Mount Carmel. Eventually, the brown scapular became reduced in size for laypeople to wear under their clothing. This is a special devotion to Mary worn as a sign to commemorate her faith in both God and humankind.
This gift from Mary helped the Carmelites explain the historical significance of their order to the laypeople; it served as a reminder that belief in Mary as the Mother of God extended back to the Old Testament with the prophet Elijah. After Pope John XXII (r.1313-1334) had a vision of Mary where she promised those wearing the brown scapular, "I, the Mother of Grace, shall descend on the Saturday after their death and whomsoever I find in Purgatory, I shall free, so that I may lead them to the holy mountain of everlasting life," the scapular became extremely popular among the common people By the end of the sixteenth centurey it had become smaller in size and very similar to the one that is worn today. Admiration for the Carmelite Order spread as their adherence to teh rules of solitude and prayer produced some of the greatest mystical saints in Catholicism, all of whom had visions of or openhearted communications with Mary. Among them are Saint Simon Stock, Saint Teresa, Saint John of the Cross, and Saint Therese of Lisieux.
Wearing the scapular is a form of prayer and is considered a visible sign of consecrating oneself to Mary and to accepting her maternal protection."
(Visions of Mary, pg 27-29).
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Our Lady of Czestochowa
Black Madonna of the Polish Nation
"Historical legand says that St. Luke painted this icon from life. The Virgin Mary sat for while she was living in the house of Saint John the Evangelist. The cedar wood the icon was paointed on was from a table made by Jesus Christ when he was a carpenter. During the destruction of Jerusalem in A.D. 70, the early Christians hid the painting. It was rediscovered in 326, when Saint Helena, the elderly mother of Constantine made her trip to the Holy Land in search of the True Cross." This painting was revered by the citizens of Constantinople for five centuries. It escaped destruction by the Iconoclasts (746-843). "This movement of the Eastern Church strictly forbade the existence of religious images."
After Constantinople fell, the painting was moved first to a castle in Belz, Russia, and later to the Church of the Assumption, in Czestochowa (Poland) on August 26, 1382.
"The followers of a heretic priest John Hus of Prague stormed the church in 1430. In an attempt to rob the jewels embedded in the icon, one of the men started slashing at the icon's face. [He took out his sword and slashed the Madonna's face once and then twice.] As he was about to slash it a third time, he fell dead. This terrified the invaders into leaving."
The icon was restored and in 1434, completely repainted. "however, the two slashes in the face have continually reappeared despite repeated attempts to repair them." (Calamari, Barbara, "Visions of Mary," pg 121-22)
Last night, we had two members of our parish's Legion of Mary come and enthrone our home to the Sacred Heart of Jesus and Immaculate Heart of Mary. The prayer service was so touching, despite the antics from three grouchy, tired kids. Afterwards, Brother Noel brought me a picture of "Our Lady of Czestochowa." I had just read about this venerated Polish image, a favorite of JPII, in my new "visions of Mary" book. Seeing the three sword slashes on her face remind me to continually offer up reperations for those who slight our Lady's heart and her image. Let us offer up many "I lOVE YOU" during the month of May to make up for our Blessed Mother's many sorrows.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
The Merry, Mary Month of May
This month marks the first May that I've celebrated as a consecrated daughter of Mary.
I became a Catholic in 2002, yet I've always had a "block" when it came to Marian devotion. I remember clearly my first Holy Day Celebration in 2001. As a new RICA member I slid into a pew at the evening service of the Immaculate Conception. "This feels pretty weird, what am I getting myself into?" as I struggled to understand why I needed to be in church at night to celebrate an "invented" doctrine from 1950 which I'd never heard before in my 25 years of being a Christian.
May 2005 brought the heart attack which signaled the imminent death of my grandmother. Mother's Day 2005, was the first time I could bring myself to sing any of the beautiful Marian hymns with any sense of interior devotion. I sang from the heart for my dying grandmother and for our Blessed Mother in Heaven.
This year, I formally consecrated myself to Marian, through the method of St. Louis de Montfort on the feast of the annunciation. It's been a slow-a pathetically slow- process. I stumble along in darkness, groping through the nightly rosary, staring a devotional pictures, trying on unfamiliar concepts like "Mediatrix" and "Assumption."
This year is the 150 anniversary of Our Lady of Lourdes. I feel a special kinship with Saint Bernadette. Her "dullness" at the her catechism consoles me. Just as her trust and faithfulness in suffering inspires me. I've gradually gone from viewing Mary as this strange, fearful BVM, to my Blessed Virgin Mother too.
Through this journey, I've always felt this "Mary block" must be mine alone. "I must have some weird mother issues" I thought. I could figure out why so many other Catholics leaped confidentially into the lap of Mary, why I always felt shy and uneasy.
Our Blessed Mother has grace my home these past two weeks with a special presence. Our parish has a "visiting Pilgrim Statute program" where a lovely 32 inch statute of Our Lady of Fatima comes to your home. The Legion of Mary teaches the entire family how to say the rosary and leaves lots of inspirational videos.
On Sunday, we had finally tracked down a neighbor's VCR and started watching the video on "First Saturday's making reparations to our Blessed Mother's Heart." The premise behind this devotion is beautiful. The faithful devote the first Saturday of five consecutive months to going to Confession, Daily Mass, saying the rosary and my favorite "keeping our Mother company for fifteen minutes."
The reason for choosing the number five, has to do with the five major ways the world hurts our Blessed Mother's heart. First, we deny the Immaculate Conception of Mary. Second, we deny the perpetual virginity of Mary. Third, we deny Mary the title of "Mother of God." Fourth, we desecrate the holy images and statutes of Mary. Fifth, we "uprooted the devotion of Mary, particularly among the young."
The priests on the video carefully explained how each of these "hurts" harm our relationship with God. The Immaculate Conception was God's first gift of redemptive grace. Mary is "the dawn of Christ's perfect day." Her quiet, hidden sanctification was God's signal to the world that we will able be saved through Christ.The perpetual virginity of Mary, was Mary's gift back to God. He accepted that gift and insured that she remained forever a virgin, even through the birth of Jesus.
At this point, I gasped openly. I felt this sting in my heart. My Methodist faith, which I'd always seen as sort of sweet and harmless, was actively promoting four of the five harms to Mary. The Methodists (and most other Protestants) recognized Mary as "the Mother of God" and trotted her out in nativity scenes at Christmas. Otherwise, my religion was actively seeking to destroy devotion to Mary as "incompatible with the true worship of Jesus Christ alone."
We denied that Mary remained a virgin and taught that she had other children beside Jesus. We denied that she was special or above us, through the special circumstances of her conception. We tore down her "idolatrous" shrines and built crisp white churches with plain walls. We "uprooted" Marian devotion, particularly among the young, particularly among ME.
This month I'm renewing my Marian devotions with fervor. I'm taking joy in sharing her prayers with my children. It's been 350 years since my ancestors traded devotion to Our Blessed Mother, for the pale, pasty imitation of devotion to Queen Elizabeth, "The Virgin Queen." I'm proud to have moved both literally and figuratively from "Virgina" to "Maryland."
What are you doing to make your domestic churches a Mary land this May?
I became a Catholic in 2002, yet I've always had a "block" when it came to Marian devotion. I remember clearly my first Holy Day Celebration in 2001. As a new RICA member I slid into a pew at the evening service of the Immaculate Conception. "This feels pretty weird, what am I getting myself into?" as I struggled to understand why I needed to be in church at night to celebrate an "invented" doctrine from 1950 which I'd never heard before in my 25 years of being a Christian.
May 2005 brought the heart attack which signaled the imminent death of my grandmother. Mother's Day 2005, was the first time I could bring myself to sing any of the beautiful Marian hymns with any sense of interior devotion. I sang from the heart for my dying grandmother and for our Blessed Mother in Heaven.
This year, I formally consecrated myself to Marian, through the method of St. Louis de Montfort on the feast of the annunciation. It's been a slow-a pathetically slow- process. I stumble along in darkness, groping through the nightly rosary, staring a devotional pictures, trying on unfamiliar concepts like "Mediatrix" and "Assumption."
This year is the 150 anniversary of Our Lady of Lourdes. I feel a special kinship with Saint Bernadette. Her "dullness" at the her catechism consoles me. Just as her trust and faithfulness in suffering inspires me. I've gradually gone from viewing Mary as this strange, fearful BVM, to my Blessed Virgin Mother too.
Through this journey, I've always felt this "Mary block" must be mine alone. "I must have some weird mother issues" I thought. I could figure out why so many other Catholics leaped confidentially into the lap of Mary, why I always felt shy and uneasy.
Our Blessed Mother has grace my home these past two weeks with a special presence. Our parish has a "visiting Pilgrim Statute program" where a lovely 32 inch statute of Our Lady of Fatima comes to your home. The Legion of Mary teaches the entire family how to say the rosary and leaves lots of inspirational videos.
On Sunday, we had finally tracked down a neighbor's VCR and started watching the video on "First Saturday's making reparations to our Blessed Mother's Heart." The premise behind this devotion is beautiful. The faithful devote the first Saturday of five consecutive months to going to Confession, Daily Mass, saying the rosary and my favorite "keeping our Mother company for fifteen minutes."
The reason for choosing the number five, has to do with the five major ways the world hurts our Blessed Mother's heart. First, we deny the Immaculate Conception of Mary. Second, we deny the perpetual virginity of Mary. Third, we deny Mary the title of "Mother of God." Fourth, we desecrate the holy images and statutes of Mary. Fifth, we "uprooted the devotion of Mary, particularly among the young."
The priests on the video carefully explained how each of these "hurts" harm our relationship with God. The Immaculate Conception was God's first gift of redemptive grace. Mary is "the dawn of Christ's perfect day." Her quiet, hidden sanctification was God's signal to the world that we will able be saved through Christ.The perpetual virginity of Mary, was Mary's gift back to God. He accepted that gift and insured that she remained forever a virgin, even through the birth of Jesus.
At this point, I gasped openly. I felt this sting in my heart. My Methodist faith, which I'd always seen as sort of sweet and harmless, was actively promoting four of the five harms to Mary. The Methodists (and most other Protestants) recognized Mary as "the Mother of God" and trotted her out in nativity scenes at Christmas. Otherwise, my religion was actively seeking to destroy devotion to Mary as "incompatible with the true worship of Jesus Christ alone."
We denied that Mary remained a virgin and taught that she had other children beside Jesus. We denied that she was special or above us, through the special circumstances of her conception. We tore down her "idolatrous" shrines and built crisp white churches with plain walls. We "uprooted" Marian devotion, particularly among the young, particularly among ME.
This month I'm renewing my Marian devotions with fervor. I'm taking joy in sharing her prayers with my children. It's been 350 years since my ancestors traded devotion to Our Blessed Mother, for the pale, pasty imitation of devotion to Queen Elizabeth, "The Virgin Queen." I'm proud to have moved both literally and figuratively from "Virgina" to "Maryland."
What are you doing to make your domestic churches a Mary land this May?
Lord, Protect the Unwanted & the Unloved
"Lord, Creator of Life, You have blessed us with the privilege of bringing new life into the world. Open our hearts and minds to recognize Your special gift of children and Your great love for each of us created in Your image and likeness.
Through love You sent your Son Jesus to redeem us and through love He entered our world as an unborn child in the womb of Mary, His mother.
We now turn to Mary for her prayers and intercession as we struggle to protect innocent unborn children from decisions that seek to destroy them. Following Mary's example as mother and disciple, let us proclaim the truth of our faith, assist those in crisis and protect those most vulnerable, unwanted and unloved. Amen."
Prayer of the Roman Catholic Bishops of Maryland
(We say this prayer everyday at the end of Daily Mass at my parish church.)
Through love You sent your Son Jesus to redeem us and through love He entered our world as an unborn child in the womb of Mary, His mother.
We now turn to Mary for her prayers and intercession as we struggle to protect innocent unborn children from decisions that seek to destroy them. Following Mary's example as mother and disciple, let us proclaim the truth of our faith, assist those in crisis and protect those most vulnerable, unwanted and unloved. Amen."
Prayer of the Roman Catholic Bishops of Maryland
(We say this prayer everyday at the end of Daily Mass at my parish church.)
Friday, May 2, 2008
Tea With Papa Benedict
To console my heart from missing our Holy Father, I reading little snippets from "The Essential Pope Benedict XVI" during my morning coffee break.
Today I found a great nugget of wisdom about original sin:
"It must once again be stressed that no human being is closed in upon himself or herself and that no one can live of or for himself of herself alone. We receive our life not only at the moment of birth but every day from without-from others who are not ourselves but who nonetheless somehow pertain to us. Human beings have their selves not only in themselves but also outside of themselves; they live in those whom they love an in those who love them and to whom they are present. Human beings are relational, and they posses their lives-themselves-only by way of relationship. I alone am not myself, but only in and with you am I myself. To be truly a human being means to be related in love, to be of and for.
But sin means the damaging or destruction of relationality. Sin is a rejection of relationality because it wants to make the human being a god. Sin is loss of relationships, a disturbance of relationship, and , therefore, it is not restricted to the individual. When I destroy a relationship, then this event-sin-touches the other person involved in the relationship. Consequently sin is always an offense that touches others, that alters the world and damages it. To the extent that this is true, when the network of human relationship is damaged from the very beginning, then every human being enters into a world that is marked by relational damage. At the very moment when a person beings human existence, which is a good, he or she is confronted by a sin-damaged world. Each of us enters into a situation in which relationality has been hurt. Consequently each person is, from the very start, damaged in relationships and does not engage in them as he or she ought." (Scripture, page 265)
Our beloved Holy Father does have a way with words! I feel like I'm starting to grasp the mystery of original sin at last (and only after being the parent witness of three baptisms).
Reading these words make the social "sin" of slavery so obvious to me. When a little child to a slave, his experiences in life are already horribly damaged as a result of the "sin" that let his mother be owned. The little newborn did nothing to "cause" this sin. Innocent or not, the sin of slavery will continue to haunt his relationships with all people (slave or free, black or white) for the rest of his life.
Taking a step into more abstract territory, each of us is equally marked by the slavery of sin, since we are "daughters of Eve." It may be less obvious to see at first, but not if we look at our life and family relationships through our spiritual eyes.
A beloved reader once posted a question about child abuse on her blog. With a kind Catholic heart, she is considering adopting a little boy who was removed into foster care after his father punched him in the jaw. "What makes a parent punch a child so hard to break a jaw?" she asked. "How can such evil exist? Why do innocent children have to suffer?"
I felt uncomfortable reading that post. Unfortunately, I've come across even worse details of child abuse in my former life as a lawyer. However, this was the first time I'd considered such questions as a parent. A parent who falls into sin, A LOT. Granted, I'm blessed not to be physically violent with my kids (and I'm sure this reader would say that line not being crossed means everything) but sin is sin is sin, it's just a matter of degrees. Screaming hysterically at my kids in one of my fits of anger might not get my kids removed from my home, but it still scars them. My sin, which comes out of my damaged, impure heart and then actively hurts the hearts of my children, makes Jesus very, very sad.
Thankfully, the cure is Christ. As Pope Benedict explains, "Only being loved is being saved, and only God's love can purify damaged human love and radically reestablish the network of relationship that have suffered from alienation."(pg. 266). My "love work" with Christ through prayer and the Eucharist is helping me, step by step, heal into the loving mother that our Creator originally meant me to be. In the adoption situation, the parent maybe be so closed off to Christ that his saving power isn't allowed to transform a life. Yet God never leaves one of us orphaned! The saving power meant to heal a harmed child will still break through the pain, maybe through the loving hands of an adopted parent herself.
May brings lots of graduations and lots of opportunities for visits with extended family. This time, when the fur starts flying, I'm going to tuck along Pope Benedict's words into my pocket. The question isn't "why aren't we getting along?" anymore. If all relationships are damaged by sin, the simple fact that most of our beloved extended family are vocally "on the outs with Christ" explains everything. My new task from Pope Benedict is simply to "have hope." My job is to stand in love, hold Christ's hand and let his love heal my heart.
I have hope for myself. I have hope for the little boy with the hurt jaw, and hope for his frustratingly imperfect dad. I have hope for my parents, and their parents, and the great-grandparents who are probably still struggling in purgatory. "Christ is our Hope!"
May you all have a blessed day!
Today I found a great nugget of wisdom about original sin:
"It must once again be stressed that no human being is closed in upon himself or herself and that no one can live of or for himself of herself alone. We receive our life not only at the moment of birth but every day from without-from others who are not ourselves but who nonetheless somehow pertain to us. Human beings have their selves not only in themselves but also outside of themselves; they live in those whom they love an in those who love them and to whom they are present. Human beings are relational, and they posses their lives-themselves-only by way of relationship. I alone am not myself, but only in and with you am I myself. To be truly a human being means to be related in love, to be of and for.
But sin means the damaging or destruction of relationality. Sin is a rejection of relationality because it wants to make the human being a god. Sin is loss of relationships, a disturbance of relationship, and , therefore, it is not restricted to the individual. When I destroy a relationship, then this event-sin-touches the other person involved in the relationship. Consequently sin is always an offense that touches others, that alters the world and damages it. To the extent that this is true, when the network of human relationship is damaged from the very beginning, then every human being enters into a world that is marked by relational damage. At the very moment when a person beings human existence, which is a good, he or she is confronted by a sin-damaged world. Each of us enters into a situation in which relationality has been hurt. Consequently each person is, from the very start, damaged in relationships and does not engage in them as he or she ought." (Scripture, page 265)
Our beloved Holy Father does have a way with words! I feel like I'm starting to grasp the mystery of original sin at last (and only after being the parent witness of three baptisms).
Reading these words make the social "sin" of slavery so obvious to me. When a little child to a slave, his experiences in life are already horribly damaged as a result of the "sin" that let his mother be owned. The little newborn did nothing to "cause" this sin. Innocent or not, the sin of slavery will continue to haunt his relationships with all people (slave or free, black or white) for the rest of his life.
Taking a step into more abstract territory, each of us is equally marked by the slavery of sin, since we are "daughters of Eve." It may be less obvious to see at first, but not if we look at our life and family relationships through our spiritual eyes.
A beloved reader once posted a question about child abuse on her blog. With a kind Catholic heart, she is considering adopting a little boy who was removed into foster care after his father punched him in the jaw. "What makes a parent punch a child so hard to break a jaw?" she asked. "How can such evil exist? Why do innocent children have to suffer?"
I felt uncomfortable reading that post. Unfortunately, I've come across even worse details of child abuse in my former life as a lawyer. However, this was the first time I'd considered such questions as a parent. A parent who falls into sin, A LOT. Granted, I'm blessed not to be physically violent with my kids (and I'm sure this reader would say that line not being crossed means everything) but sin is sin is sin, it's just a matter of degrees. Screaming hysterically at my kids in one of my fits of anger might not get my kids removed from my home, but it still scars them. My sin, which comes out of my damaged, impure heart and then actively hurts the hearts of my children, makes Jesus very, very sad.
Thankfully, the cure is Christ. As Pope Benedict explains, "Only being loved is being saved, and only God's love can purify damaged human love and radically reestablish the network of relationship that have suffered from alienation."(pg. 266). My "love work" with Christ through prayer and the Eucharist is helping me, step by step, heal into the loving mother that our Creator originally meant me to be. In the adoption situation, the parent maybe be so closed off to Christ that his saving power isn't allowed to transform a life. Yet God never leaves one of us orphaned! The saving power meant to heal a harmed child will still break through the pain, maybe through the loving hands of an adopted parent herself.
May brings lots of graduations and lots of opportunities for visits with extended family. This time, when the fur starts flying, I'm going to tuck along Pope Benedict's words into my pocket. The question isn't "why aren't we getting along?" anymore. If all relationships are damaged by sin, the simple fact that most of our beloved extended family are vocally "on the outs with Christ" explains everything. My new task from Pope Benedict is simply to "have hope." My job is to stand in love, hold Christ's hand and let his love heal my heart.
I have hope for myself. I have hope for the little boy with the hurt jaw, and hope for his frustratingly imperfect dad. I have hope for my parents, and their parents, and the great-grandparents who are probably still struggling in purgatory. "Christ is our Hope!"
May you all have a blessed day!
In Praise of My Husband's Hands
(In Honor of the Feast of Saint Joseph the worker)
Last September, my husband came home and complained of pain in his right index finger. The tendon was so inflamed the pain shot all the way down his arm into his elbow. His workload had tripled after his firm took on two new clients. Now, my husband couldn't bend his knuckle or hold a knife.
Since all of my medical knowledge comes from worker compensation hearings, I immediately started freaking out about carpal tunnel syndrome. I looked up the facts in our little "do it yourself" health care manual from Kaiser Permenente.
"You need to ice your tendon for a half hour after work each day. You also need to take five minute stretch breaks at work. And you should do some finger strengthening exercises. And if that doesn't work we need to call your doctor-- otherwise you might need surgery!"
"I don't need to call my doctor," my husband said as he attempted to cut his pork chop with the knife in his left hand and held his fork in his right hand in a grip more awkward than our newborn's fist.
I stared at him in horror. "Everyone at this table depends upon that one hand to eat!" I exclaimed. The force of that statement hit both of us at once. "I'll ask my boss to order a better mouse pad tomorrow," my husband said with a nod. (Happily some minor changes on his computer desk have cured the problem.)
My husband is a graphic designer. He is the skilled laborer of our modern day. He loves to draw, but sadly handles pencil and paper all to rarely at work. Most of his day is spent doing click after click on his mouse. He moves type and photographs from web browser to spread sheet and then back again. Click. Click. Click. His right index finger moves up and down all day for nine to ten hours a day with only a modest break for lunch.
The steady paycheck from such humble work feeds a family of five, keeps a roof over our heads, and buys us netflix rentals and coffee grounds.
I'm so, so grateful to my husband for being a model of Saint Joseph for our family. Humble & Devout. Strong & Gentle. Diligent & Loving.
Saint Joseph pray for us, that we may always appreciate our spouses and their hard working hands.
Last September, my husband came home and complained of pain in his right index finger. The tendon was so inflamed the pain shot all the way down his arm into his elbow. His workload had tripled after his firm took on two new clients. Now, my husband couldn't bend his knuckle or hold a knife.
Since all of my medical knowledge comes from worker compensation hearings, I immediately started freaking out about carpal tunnel syndrome. I looked up the facts in our little "do it yourself" health care manual from Kaiser Permenente.
"You need to ice your tendon for a half hour after work each day. You also need to take five minute stretch breaks at work. And you should do some finger strengthening exercises. And if that doesn't work we need to call your doctor-- otherwise you might need surgery!"
"I don't need to call my doctor," my husband said as he attempted to cut his pork chop with the knife in his left hand and held his fork in his right hand in a grip more awkward than our newborn's fist.
I stared at him in horror. "Everyone at this table depends upon that one hand to eat!" I exclaimed. The force of that statement hit both of us at once. "I'll ask my boss to order a better mouse pad tomorrow," my husband said with a nod. (Happily some minor changes on his computer desk have cured the problem.)
My husband is a graphic designer. He is the skilled laborer of our modern day. He loves to draw, but sadly handles pencil and paper all to rarely at work. Most of his day is spent doing click after click on his mouse. He moves type and photographs from web browser to spread sheet and then back again. Click. Click. Click. His right index finger moves up and down all day for nine to ten hours a day with only a modest break for lunch.
The steady paycheck from such humble work feeds a family of five, keeps a roof over our heads, and buys us netflix rentals and coffee grounds.
I'm so, so grateful to my husband for being a model of Saint Joseph for our family. Humble & Devout. Strong & Gentle. Diligent & Loving.
Saint Joseph pray for us, that we may always appreciate our spouses and their hard working hands.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
A Water Moment
Lately, whenever I've been having a stressful moment in my marriage, I've drawn on the image of the Wedding of Cana. Instead of getting upset, I sort of withdraw into myself. I place myself at that lavish wedding banquet, where the worse crisis of hospitality has occurred- the bride and groom have run out of wine.
"This is a water moment," I'll tell myself. It's a sort of shorthand to my soul that says, "yes, your agitation is real, yes your feelings are proportionate-- but we are doing something deeper now than trying to validate fears and hurt feelings. We are going to wait expectantly for Jesus to turn this 'water moment' into a 'wine moment'."
I'm a visual girl, so this sort of mental prayer helps me. Placing myself at the Wedding of Cana helps me transition from the Protestant girl who expected the formula was a) find the right guy, b) get married in a church c) don't do anything seriously sinful and BAM! this formula is guaranteed to equal happiness with your spouse for all your time on earth.
There's still this part of me that expects to be drinking the fragrant wine of domestic happiness every second of my marriage feast. When the wine runs dry because of the agitation that accompanies seasonal allergies, or due to sleepless babies, etc., it used to common for me to freak out. Why isn't this working?
My inner conversation used to go "Why isn't this working when I'm such a good person?" Now, that I'm Catholic that former conceit is comical. No the conversation (which is still prideful) goes something like "Why isn't my marriage 'working' when I'm following NFP, hitting daily Mass, consecrated to our Blessed Mother-- or any of the other of my latest spiritual practice additions." Last night it went, "Why didn't my husband empty the overflowing recyclables while I was at choir practice. I'm a choir member, why is this happening to me?"
That's the moment when I try to catch myself and place myself internally at the Wedding of Cana. "This is a water moment. Wait for the wine moment."
When I practice this prayer, it always, always works for me. I get showered with graces. The deal is that, I actually have to wait patiently for the wine moment to come, and then gratefully take a gulp. Sometimes it's as easy as spending the four minutes emptying the recyclable bin myself rather than making a scene. (Yes, more pettiness to wince at during the movie rewind of my life at the end of time!) Sometimes, its a little longer in coming but even more dramatic-- as when my husband's expensive allergy medicine suddenly went over-the-counter and became available for me and the kids as well.
Anyways, many thanks to the dear friend who encouraged me to transfer this "water moment, wine moment" prayer into my life with my children, who after all are simply the fruit of my union. The sacramental graces that I draw upon to make me a better wife are equally available to make me a better mother.
Pray for me, (it's allergy season, I need it!) and I will pray for each of you. May we all one day toast our glasses in the one, eternal banquet where the wine never runs out!
"This is a water moment," I'll tell myself. It's a sort of shorthand to my soul that says, "yes, your agitation is real, yes your feelings are proportionate-- but we are doing something deeper now than trying to validate fears and hurt feelings. We are going to wait expectantly for Jesus to turn this 'water moment' into a 'wine moment'."
I'm a visual girl, so this sort of mental prayer helps me. Placing myself at the Wedding of Cana helps me transition from the Protestant girl who expected the formula was a) find the right guy, b) get married in a church c) don't do anything seriously sinful and BAM! this formula is guaranteed to equal happiness with your spouse for all your time on earth.
There's still this part of me that expects to be drinking the fragrant wine of domestic happiness every second of my marriage feast. When the wine runs dry because of the agitation that accompanies seasonal allergies, or due to sleepless babies, etc., it used to common for me to freak out. Why isn't this working?
My inner conversation used to go "Why isn't this working when I'm such a good person?" Now, that I'm Catholic that former conceit is comical. No the conversation (which is still prideful) goes something like "Why isn't my marriage 'working' when I'm following NFP, hitting daily Mass, consecrated to our Blessed Mother-- or any of the other of my latest spiritual practice additions." Last night it went, "Why didn't my husband empty the overflowing recyclables while I was at choir practice. I'm a choir member, why is this happening to me?"
That's the moment when I try to catch myself and place myself internally at the Wedding of Cana. "This is a water moment. Wait for the wine moment."
When I practice this prayer, it always, always works for me. I get showered with graces. The deal is that, I actually have to wait patiently for the wine moment to come, and then gratefully take a gulp. Sometimes it's as easy as spending the four minutes emptying the recyclable bin myself rather than making a scene. (Yes, more pettiness to wince at during the movie rewind of my life at the end of time!) Sometimes, its a little longer in coming but even more dramatic-- as when my husband's expensive allergy medicine suddenly went over-the-counter and became available for me and the kids as well.
Anyways, many thanks to the dear friend who encouraged me to transfer this "water moment, wine moment" prayer into my life with my children, who after all are simply the fruit of my union. The sacramental graces that I draw upon to make me a better wife are equally available to make me a better mother.
Pray for me, (it's allergy season, I need it!) and I will pray for each of you. May we all one day toast our glasses in the one, eternal banquet where the wine never runs out!
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