Empty, Open Hands

Well it sure has been a while! I’ll admit, this break was not necessarily planned or intended. It just sort of happened. I try to make this blog as close to God speaking through me as possible. So if I’m inspired to write, I write. If I’m not, I try not to force the issue. I’ve been inspired off and on during this impromptu hiatus, but haven’t found the motivation to write about it.

Until today. And I hope it sticks. Because I have some exciting news to share at the end.

This morning, Ben and I got the kids up early for daily Mass. You may recall that we moved back in January. Our new parish is a very active, welcoming community. There is a school attached to the parish and the students attend Mass throughout the week. Each grade/groups of grades go once a week. On Wednesdays, as today happens to be, the youngest students attend Mass.

When the older kids go, they are the ones who lector and serve. The little ones, however, are not old enough yet. Therefore, the homeschooling families traditionally handle these duties on Wednesdays. I love this inclusion of the homeschool families. Of course, we signed up to participate.

On this particular morning, Rosie (age 9) and John (age 10), had prepared to lector and served respectively. However when we arrived we were told by the custodian that Father was away, something had come up, and there wouldn’t be Mass. The kids were disappointed and understandably so.

The lights were off in the church. Only the tabernacle candle and the prayer intention candles at a few statues along the walls were lit. It’s October and we were still early enough in the morning for light to be faint and mysterious. Instead of going home, I suggested we go into the darkened church.

We went in and sat down. After a few minutes of not silence, I started a Rosary. Conveniently, I noticed that we have 4 main statues surrounding the pews – The Blessed Mother, Joseph holding the Child Jesus, a version of the Infant of Prague, and Jesus’ Sacred Heart. We did our first decade in the pews facing the tabernacle. We then began a traveling Rosary, stopping at each statue for a decade.

Our final stop was with Joseph. I was leading again, but standing behind the kids. Clare (age 7), was in front of me, using her hands to keep track of the Hail Mary’s. As she got to the 5th, instead of closing that had and moving on to the next, or just starting over, she kept it open. Then, when she reached the 10th, she kept both hands open and extended for the duration of the prayer.

I was so struck by the simplicity of her posture, yet it’s profound message. I wish I could have taken a picture. Here was a young girl, praying, with hands open and empty, ready to receive the graces bestowed upon her. She did not feel the need to work for the grace, she wasn’t proving she was good enough or worthy enough. It was a very St. Terese of Lisieux moment.

After we finished, Clare came up to me. “I liked that Mommy,” was all she said. I hope she keeps this attitude of prayer. The emptiness, the openness. What a witness to me and my own feeble attempts at proving my worth or being concerned over my accomplishments. God doesn’t need those. He just needs my hands to be ready to receive His gifts.

Speaking of gifts, I’m excited to share that Advent Journals are back and nearly finished! This year we are shaking things up with a brand new format I was inspired to create (truly inspired – I heard this phrase on a knitting podcast of all places and it became a fully fledged Advent journal. Only God can do that!). Remember the “Choose Your Own Adventure” books from when you were a kid? This is going to be similar. The key phrase is “Embrace Your Own Pace.” I’ll be sharing more as I get closer to pushing publish. These will continue to be completely and totally free, as usual. So get excited and please share the good news with your friends, family and parish!

Bringing Our Best

As we continue to move closer to Christmas, I find that more and more of our focus turns toward Mary. This makes sense in many ways, she is the Theotokos, the God-bearer. Her “yes” to God’s plan is one of the main reasons we are all here, all waiting the blessed day of our Savior’s birth. However, I happen to be in a unique season of life that has me thinking a lot about St. Joseph and the sacrifices he had to make in this adventure.

We are a military family and as it happens, the military has planned for us to transition to a new state in the early weeks of January. Our holiday season has already looked a lot different (even outside of the coronavirus limitations and sacrifices). We don’t have a Christmas tree this year, we have really only put up Advent decorations and minimal Christmas ones. We have had to ask our family to refrain from sending their gifts until after we move so that we don’t end up losing critical LEGO pieces or doll accessories between Christmas Day and a few days later when the serious pack out begins.

I am both a preparer and a celebrator. I like to make plans, get gifts early, make lots of cookies, decorate and leave everything up for the fullness of the Christmas season. This whole notion of emptying the freezer so it can thaw instead of filling it up is very backwards in my frame of mind for this time of year. Though we know little of St. Joseph’s personality from the few passages he is in in the Bible, I believe he and I have some things in common, our affinity for preparation for one.

When Joseph learned of Mary’s pregnancy, he immediately set out with plans — plans which would have protected Mary to the best of his ability. When the angel appeared to him, his plans clearly changed. But I believe his instinct to protect Mary, and by extension her baby, would have carried on and he would have immediately began planning for this new child. Imagine the cradle a carpenter would make for his son or daughter. Imagine the little stool or bench by the door sized for his toddler. Imagine the toys, trinkets or other baubles he would have made in the evenings by firelight as he awaited the birth of his child.

Now, imagine the pain he must have felt when they received word about the census and he calculated the timing. All of these things he had lovingly and carefully prepared had to be left behind. Imagine how his pain increased when the angel again appeared and told him not to return home to the home he had built, but to flee to Egypt. Sacrifice topped on top of sacrifice. But just because what he had built with his hands had to be left, didn’t mean that Joseph didn’t bring his best along for the journey. Joseph brought his love, his protection, his faithfulness, and his steadfastness.

This year has been fundamentally different. It was not what we planned. Sacrifice on top of sacrifice has brought us to this Advent season. However, we have been gifted an opportunity to choose to approach the coming days with the same spirit of St. Joseph. Christmas Day might not look like what we had planned, but that doesn’t mean we are bringing less than our best. Regardless of how many people are around our table, the child Jesus is with us. No matter how we find ourselves, in our pjs all day or Sunday best, Mary invites us to come and worship her newborn babe. And, regardless of our location, St. Joseph is among us, reminding us that it matters not what we brought or bought. The spirit of Christmas lies in the manger, awaiting not our gifts but our love, our faithfulness, and our devotion.

This post was published first at CatholicMom.com

Delight

Sitting at an intersection with my observant and forthright 6 year old went something like this recently:

“Mommy, why aren’t we turning?”

“Because we have to wait for a break in traffic. The cars going across us don’t have a light or stop sign so we have to wait for both sides to be clear so we can turn safely. You didn’t put ‘Get hit by another car’ on your plan for the day, did you?”

“I don’t have plans for today.”

“Really, no plans??”

“Nope, I just wanna have fun.”

Her last statement was said in a very matter-of-fact, no-nonsense tone of voice. Had she been older, the addition of, “Duh Mommy,” would not have been out of place. I had to suppress my laughter as we finally had an opportunity to turn and move on with our day.

From the mouths of babes, am I right? I just wanna have fun — when did we lose this outlook on life? When did it all become plans, tasks, goals, and deadlines? In an adult life, these things have purpose and are in many cases, necessary. But what is their ultimate aim – do they get us through the day, or do they help us enjoy the day?

While visiting my parents, my mom introduced me to her new afternoon coffee drink. She often looks for a little caffeine in the afternoon, as many of us probably do. Usually she turns to tea, but lately she discovered a version of a Korean instant coffee drink (rather than hauling out the mixer, she puts the water, sugar and coffee in a small sealed container and shakes them until foamy. You can’t dollop it on top as the recipe shows, but the effect is pretty similar and still delicious!) She calls it her Afternoon Delight.

I love the choice of word: delight. Delight can be both a verb and a noun, meaning to please someone, or simply a great pleasure. The example of the noun is “the girls squealed with delight.” I love this! You can hear little girls squealing — not laughing, not giggling, squealing really is the right word for the sound that explodes from them when they take great delight in a puppy, a new doll, or the idea of piggyback rides on Daddy.

When is the last time you, “squealed with delight?” The first time I sipped my mom’s new afternoon treat, I didn’t necessarily squeal out loud, but that same feeling bubbled into my smile. It was … delightful! It caused me to think about why I hadn’t felt this feeling in a long time, and challenged me to consider how to allow more delight into my day.

I came up with a list, one that I’m working on adding to, of things that bring me that same feeling of delight.

  • The coffee drink
  • Caramel apple dip, especially in the fall
  • Good quality, soft yarn
  • Hummingbirds
  • My 17-month-old’s smile
Image via Pixabay 2013

As we transition from fall to winter, and from Ordinary Time to Advent, it is a unique time to consider what brings us delight. This burst of energy and glee can make a big difference in an otherwise dull day spent indoors because of bad weather, cold, or in this particular year, Covid-19. Advent is a time of waiting, yes, but we also hear about the delight of Mary and Elizabeth as the children in their wombs leapt for joy upon meeting one another. This moment of delight can inspire us to look out for our own moments of delight. And like Mary and Elizabeth, we ought to savor them, not hurry over them to the next task or plan.

As adults we have plans, we have responsibilities. We cannot, as my daughter wishes, just wanna have fun and expect the laundry to be folded, zoom meetings attended, dinner prepared and the kids in bed on time. We can, however, intentionally seek out little opportunities of delight. These moments are opportunities to deeply feel God’s loving presence within us. We know that God delights in all He made: this includes us. As creatures made in God’s image and likeness, we glimpse a small piece of God’s great delight when we allow ourselves moments like these.

How long has it been since you experienced delight? What is something or someone you can take delight in this week, today even? If you can, make a list of regular or reliable sources of delight and see if you can increase your opportunities to experience them this Advent season.

This post was originally published at CatholicMom.com.