Proper Language

In the past few months I’ve been trying to make an effort to be more present on Twitter and Instagram. It’s been fun, challenging and sometimes tiring, but I think it’s been worth the effort. I’ve found some pretty incredible articles and resources that I would have missed or not known about had I not been using these social media tools.

As with all things, I have also stumbled across some things I wish I hadn’t, or read statements I do not agree with. Once such instance happened this past weekend that got me so riled up, I’m still thinking about it and maybe, if this post goes well, try to formulate my thoughts into an article that I could submit to a publication (hopes and dreams anyway).

I was scrolling through Twitter when I came across this tweet from a pro-life activist:

Lots of would be mothers regret their abortions.I dont know a single mom who regrets having a child
Proper Language, especially in pro-life ministry. Daily Graces. kktaliaferro.wordpress.com
Photo by tipstimes.com/pregnancy. 2008. via Flickr. CC. Modified by Kate Taliaferro 2016

Now, there are a few things that I take issue with in this statement, and I am pro-life. Regarding the 2nd sentence, I am sure that there are mothers out there, unfortunately, who go through periods of time that they regret having children. Maybe they regret a loss of independence or ability to work, maybe they are struggling to feed all the members of their family, maybe they regret the circumstances that lead to that child. While each child is a precious gift from God, we are a broken humanity who do not always recognize God’s gifts when we receive them.

But this is not my main issue. My main issue is the term “would be mothers.” Friends, if we ever, and I mean EVER, hope to bring about a cultural revolution for the culture of life, we have to first remove the log from our own eye before looking to anyone else’s. Consider the term “would be mother.” According to Merriam-Webster, “would-be” is defined as
used to describe someone who hopes to be a particular person or type of person
or
having the potential to be
So, based on this tweet and it’s language, a would be mother is someone who has the potential to be a mother, but isn’t. And you might say, of course. In this context, we are talking about a woman who had an abortion, so she isn’t a mother.
Or is she?
Here’s the kicker folks, by calling these women “would-be mothers” we are denying the fact that they ever were mothers. We are denying the fact that the life in her womb began at conception. Fr. Frank Pavone says it best:

A woman who is pregnant is not “expecting” a child. She already has one. The child exists and is living and growing in her womb. She is not about to bring the child “into the world.” The child is already in the world. The mother’s womb is as much in the world as the mother herself.

The pregnant woman is not “going to be” a mother. She already is a mother. By saying she is “going to be” a mother, we inadvertently reinforce the notion that motherhood begins at birth. This reinforces the idea that the child really is a child only at birth.

Theotokos. Using Proper Language to describe mothers. Daily Graces. kktaliaferro.wordpress.com
By MapperDB (Own work) [CC BY-SA 4.0], via Wikimedia Commons
So, what we say about the mother directly impacts what we know and believe about her child. The Church has understood this for centuries. The early Church held Mary in high esteem as the Mother of God, the Theotokos. Prior to the Council of Ephesus, 431, this term had been widely used for Mary. However, it wasn’t until the council that she was officially declared the Theotokos, the God-bearer. While this may seem like the emphasis is all on Mary, it is actually another way that the Church was protecting and promoting the belief in who Jesus is, in particular that he is both fully divine and fully human (the Incarnation).

Heresies and questionable teachings abounded in the early centuries of the Church. It was up to the councils to discern the Truth through the guidance of the Holy Spirit. One of the most hotly contested topics, obviously, revolved around Jesus. Was he truly God but only pretending to be human? Was he a super awesome human, maybe even divine-like, but not truly God? Was he a split, 50% God, 50% man, or some other ratio? Who was Jesus???

At the Council of Ephesus, a man named Nestorius began spreading doubt that Mary was truly Theotokos. He claimed she was the mother of Christ, the mother of the human Jesus, but not the mother of God. After all, how could God have a mother? Do you see how quickly things could have unraveled? If the Church had accepted Nestorius’ teaching, they would have been denying the totality of who Jesus was. For Jesus to be both fully human and fully divine, there is no way Mary could give birth to only part of Jesus. It’s all or nothing. If you want to read more, EWTN has a great summary here.

What we say about the mother directly impacts what we say about her child. Before we can ask others to see these precious little ones as fully, completely, in the here and now, children, we have to adjust the way we speak about their mothers.

Do you want to get involved in the pro-life movement? You can contact your parish or local diocese about events, the March for Life, peaceful protests and prayer vigils. You can also volunteer at a local pregnancy crisis center or see if they accept donations. If you are a rosary prayer, you can also add this simple prayer at the end of each decade following the O My Jesus prayer: “Jesus, protect and save the unborn.” Most importantly, you can pray for all those mothers and families who are faced with difficult situations and feel they have no other alternatives.

Melting a Heart of Stone

Melting a Heart of Stone - Daily Graces. kktaliaferro.wordpress.com
By Sylda31 (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons
This day did not start out like a normal day. It actually started out as a rather terrible day. It was the day that Ben was coming home from a trip, which usually means it’s a day that is both exciting and awful all at once. Exciting because, obviously, Daddy’s finally coming home and the kids are bonkers, elated and otherwise screaming with joy. It is awful because time moves at its slowest speed and since we are all so excited our faces hurt from smiling, sometimes patience wears thin and tempers flare as we march through the day until he finally gets home.

Today was just such a day, except today started with one of my children, I won’t implicate them here, informing my still closed eyelids that there was potty on the couch while still dripping with it on the carpet in front of my bed. I flew out of bed to find indeed a soaking wet child as well as a drenched couch. Not only is Daddy coming home, now he is coming home to a pee-soaked former-favorite spot to sit.

Needless to say, I was not amused. I think my patience was forgotten in bed, probably still with my sleepy eyes and my temper was shorter than the coffee I had not yet drunk. With each paper towel, every squirt of any deodorizer I could get my hands on, and towel soiled, my heart hardened. The whole house smelled, breakfast still had to be made, children clothed and we had someplace to be by 10am. Oh, and I needed coffee. Badly.

Children truly are incredible in their ability to move on. The offending party was appropriately contrite, said all the right words and gave lots of hugs. They steered clear for a few minutes, recognizing that Mom was in rather a state. But only for a few minutes. Then, they were back to their happy-go-lucky selves, asking for extra juice and asking me to find a missing toy for them as if I wasn’t up to my elbows in pee and all manner of cleaners, almost desperate enough for a clothespin on my nose. Rather than being inspired by their uplifting attitude, it only fueled my stony heart.

I was turning into one of the disciples in the Gospel of Mark. They had just witnessed Jesus multiplying the loaves and the fish and now were looking across the sea to find Jesus walking to them in the midst of a storm. Mark says they were “astounded.” But at the same time, their hearts were hardened because they did not understand what Jesus was trying to tell them.

Jesus was trying to soften my heart through the cheerful attitudes of my children. Instead, I gave him the cold shoulder.

My mood, predictably, did not improve on its own. I needed some serious help. And thank goodness, I got it. We were driving to our morning event when Rosie asked to listen to the Vacation Bible School music that the kids had just finished that week. If it kept the car quiet and peaceful I was all for it so I turned it on, fading it to the back of course so that such uplifting, happy music wouldn’t influence my sour disposition (because who would want that? Clearly, I was stuck).

Then, very faintly, I heard the singing. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw John singing along to the song playing. Rosie quickly joined him. The next song they added some hand motions and even Clare tried to keep up, clapping and giggling. Slowly, my stony heart was melting. These beautiful, simple children, were praising God to the greatest of their abilities. They were filling the car with joy and adoration. Who was I to stand in the face of that worship, fold my arms and turn up my nose? Who was I to hold onto a grudge that I had to serve my family that morning, even if it was at a time not of my choosing or a task I was particularly fond of? I had been given an opportunity to serve my family with love, patience and and joy. I utterly failed on all counts.

The sweet joyful singing of my children brought me back to reality, sufficiently humbled and sorrowful for the example I had given them. Instead of seeing an opportunity to demonstrate love, I displayed petty anger, frustration and a general yucky attitude. And so I joined in their song, letting all those negative emotions ebb away as I allowed myself to be graced by their song. In those few moments my heart of stone was being melted away and replaced with a softened one capable of seeing God working in our day once again.

I’m not going to say the rest of the day was perfect, because of course it wasn’t. But it was better, so much better than if I had hung onto that stony heart rather than embracing a humbled, soft one.

Melting a Heart of Stone - Daily Graces. kktaliaferro.wordpress.com
The 3 causes for my joy!

God is on the Move….on Instagram!

Happy Mother’s Day! To all the moms out there, especially my own and my mother-in-law, thank you for your daily love, dedication and sacrifice to your children and families. For all the women who are hoping to be moms or struggling to be moms, find a friend, companion and dear mother in our Blessed Mother. With her, find the courage to say “Thy will be done.”

For those of you who follow me on Facebook you may have noticed a few new Instagram photos popping up. Yes, I have indeed decided to try out the pictorial world of Instagram.

I’ve been blogging for about a year now and am starting to feel that this is more than just a whim or fancy for me. I’m feeling called, challenged even, to write more and more often. Some of my writing projects are here, on the blog. Others are at CatholicMom.com. Still others are tucked away in my “Other Ideas” folder on my laptop that is increasingly filling up to the point where I should probably start using subfolders.

My greatest desire in all of these endeavors – blog, Facebook, Twitter, and now Instagram, is to allow God’s grace to shine through the words and pictures. I’m simply sharing where I find God and how I live my faith. Perhaps it will resonate with someone, perhaps it won’t, but that’s not really the point.

What is the point, you might ask? Great question! The answer I alluded to already. On the days that I’m on, I’m firing on all cylinders, I’ve got the right attitude and perspective, the point is – to give honor and glory to God who has inspired me and enabled me to share these simple thoughts and ideas. This is the goal I strive for, the heights I hope to attain.

On other days, days when I’m not feeling great, judgmental, gossipy, tired, whiny and worried, the goal is muddled. It’s easy to get lost in a desire to be noticed, to be seen, to “be somebody.” I get caught up in “wow, wouldn’t it be so great to write a book for my own fame and ego building” and “hey, hey, I have so many more followers on Twitter than a few months ago!”

But that shouldn’t be the reason why I am doing what I’m doing. It’s not the point of this blog and frankly, it shouldn’t be the point of my life. Though it’s another form of social media, I’m actually really enjoying using Instagram. It’s really helped me keep things in the proper perspective.

God is on the move...Instagram. kktaliaferro.wordpress.com #DailyGraces

Before, when I was using just Facebook and Twitter, I was starting to get caught up in word counts and how to phrase things to sound like I knew something about what I was talking about without carrying on and on. Sometimes it’s hard to express a feeling or emotion fully in just a few sentences without setting the stage, explaining the backstory or why this moment was so significant. Enter Instagram where truly, a picture speaks 1,000 words. I’ve been able to capture little moments of grace that are truly everyday ordinary things. Like cooking with my son, or putting together frozen breakfast sandwiches with my daughter for a family expecting a baby soon. They are moments of closeness with my husband or joy in accomplishing household chores.

I’ve got a song stuck in my head right now that I love, called “God is on the Move” by Seventh Time Down (which is a fantastic change to “Woody’s Roundup” from Toy Story 2 – yikes, I was desperate enough to get that out of my head I started singing other annoying children’s songs…completely ineffective.). In this song – God is on the Move – the band is singing about how every time someone chooses the good, chooses the light, chooses to share God’s Word, it’s another moment where God is on the move, He’s still on the move, and will always be on the “move in many mighty ways.”

Now this song speaks of some big moments, like when someone fully submits themselves to God’s will or takes a stand against injustice, which are incredible acts of faith. I would like to add a few that help me remember that God is on the move. They are smaller, more simple and more ordinary.

God is on the move when:

  • My son throws his arms around me for no reason and says “I love you Mommy”
  • My “baby” now 19 months gives kisses to all her baby dolls and pretends to be their mommy
  • My daughter dances with reckless abandon
  • I see new blossoms on our lemon tree
  • I wake up a few minutes before the kids and have time to appreciate the stillness of the morning
  • My husband gets home from a trip and cooks us his famous pancakes
  • The dishes are done!
  • So many more times and thanks to Instagram, I’ve found a new way to capture them.

I would love to see the moments when you know God is moving in your life. I’m using #DailyGraces on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram and hope you will too. Together, we can see how God is working in all of our lives and give one another ideas for even more places we can recognize His presence.