Advent Begins: A season of tiny lights

advent wreath 2Happy Advent!

“Blogger Mom” Sherry Antonetti, suffered a miscarriage this week. This energetic mother of ten is walking a “valley of shadow” that is unknown to me. A car accident when I was eighteen caused such extensive internal damage, my doctor informed me I would not be able to have children. (The only silver lining to this was that my then-boyfriend, an Argentinian jackass, dumped me the minute I came out of I.C.U. because “You’re not a real woman anymore.”)

In a way, the knowledge that pregnancy was not in the cards for me made it a bit easier when I got married. As much as I would have liked to have a child, knowing it was not possible gave me the freedom to check that particular dream off my “wish list” and find a new dream with my husband, which we could envision together.

And yet, I’ve come to realize that the pain of the not-quite-realized dream has a special place in the spiritual life. Those of us who never buy a lottery ticket, do not experience the let-down of those who splurge on $20 in tickets without a single hit. That tantalizing possibility causes us to hope in God’s goodness . . . the excruciating aftermath leads us to trust in his mercy.

As we enter the season of Advent, we recall the most extraordinary of all of divine interventions: the Incarnation, the moment in history when God definitively intervened in human history, to remake a future infinitely better than we’d imagined for ourselves. “O felix culpa …” O happy fault, that won for us so great a Savior.

This year, as we enter the Church’s new year, let’s take a moment to reflect upon those moments when we experienced a tiny point of light, a brief moment when possibility turned into disappointment. The angst of childish choices. The agony of free will turned on end. The inexplicable shadow of nature at its worst.

Bless us, O Lord, and these thy gifts,

Which even now, we receive from Thy bounty,

For better or for worse, in sickness and in health,

As long as I shall live. Amen.

Taking Time to … Breathe

Got a phone call today from school. “I think you need to pick Sarah up. Her eyes are puffy, she’s coughing, and says her neck hurts.” Turns out 16 kids in Sarah’s class are out with the flu.

Sixteen out of 24. You do the math. By the time Sarah got home, her fever was up to 102. It was normal this morning. It’s amazing how life can change on a dime, you know?

So the 1:00 meeting I had with the doctor to talk about Sarah’s test results from the educational specialist is now on speaker phone.

The 4:15 Religious Education class has been modified and laid out in the classroom so my teachers aids can carry on.

The new doctor appointment is now at 5:15.

The 7:00 Boosters meeting has been pushed back one week … since three of five of us have sick children at home.

Then, just when I stopped beating my head against the steering wheel of my car from the last-minute carpooling/errand running, I fired up the computer and read this post from Extraordinary Mom Sherry Antonetti:

So read a story to a child not because it will improve their test scores but because you think they’ll like the book. Brush their hair and put in the ribbons if they love them, even if they don’t match. Allow an older one to take a break from studying even if there’s more time, and break out the Rock Band. The pseudo accomplishments of play that aren’t taken seriously have serious benefits that no ribbons, trophies or public “Like this” thumbs up can match. Play for fun. Write for fun. Create a hearth out of your home and do all the things you do, because you would do them even without the A’s, without the accolades.

Life is not just about showing up, but about being present. Not about being noticed, but noticing others.

Be sure to read the whole thing … You’ll be glad you did!

Simple Living: A Recipe for Life

holy-familyToday I stumbled on a post by one of my favorite Extraordinary Moms, Sherry Antonetti, who has decided to close her blog “Chocolate for Your Brain.” I admire her courage — it’s not easy to stop doing (for the good of your family) something you’d much rather be doing (for yourself).  If it’s not writing, it’s something else … reading, showering, sleeping. You know what I mean.

Sherry inspired me to do something that I’ve known for some time I should be doing, to make room for new challenges ahead: Conclude my tribute to the Blessed Mother, “Behold Your Mother.” I’ll also be blogging less often at “Mommy Monsters” — mostly linking to articles here, since for some reason there doesn’t appear to be a close overlap between my readers in both sites. EMN  will be my primary blog.

Is there any area of your life where God is asking you to simplify?