Checking In

I'm still here, just not posting much. I've been such a bad blogger of late. Mostly it's because I'm trying to get a handle on my real life. I found the camera, so I can show you!

This was the parlor with bins from the storeroom in the midst of being organized.


And here are the 5 big garbage bags of clothes donated to Catholic Charities, woo!

I still need to get the study taken care of as it's a huge disaster. I can't even vacuum in here. Baby is adorable and fun, older kids are wonderful though challenging in unique ways. Everything is busy and blessed.

I was thinking yesterday about my efforts to Take the Poor With Me and how limited my success has been because I'm so focused on my family and my home. In some ways, that's not a bad thing. I know my primary vocation is as a wife and mother and God calls me to focus my energies there for a reason. Also, I need to get a handle on our family spending; it blew way out of proportion while I was sick and we still haven't gotten ourselves back on track. Part of that is the vacation we took into the mountains last month, but a large part is also that I'm not taking the time to sit down in front of my spreadsheet. I need to find that time and break it all down or our money gets away from us like a herd of fleeing wildebeests.

However, it is a problem for this blog because instead of reading books and articles about the plight of the poor, I am reading books about food allergies and de-cluttering. Instead of giving money, I am volunteering my time, which gives me even less opportunity for research. Instead of blogging, I am cleaning and cooking.

I have been successful in my prayer life. Anna posted a while back about the power of her daily Rosary, and I've been inspired to dedicate a decade each time I pray. The immediate benefit is that it has brought me a huge amount of peace. Mostly I am praying for the future (my children's chastity, their vocations, our adoption, my husband's conversion) and knowing that I am able to do something NOW about these hugely important issues is very comforting.

I've also been praying for those who suffer. It's so hard for me to calm my spirit when I am troubled by the state of the world. Even something like watching a few minutes of Fiddler on the Roof while the baby is nursing will torment my heart for days. If I can do nothing else for the poor of this world, I can pray for them. I say a Trinity Prayer (Our Father Hail Mary Glory Be) while I wash dishes or fold laundry, offer up my aches and pains, and ask God to bless others when I thank Him for my blessings (like a clean glass of water or my bed.)

I don't know if I will have future insights on this topic. It hasn't stopped being near and dear to my heart, even if I have shifted my focus to my immediate family for the time-being. I am trying, as much as I can, to think of the poor while I am taking care of my family and being active in my community. I am trying to remember that caring for my children is caring for Christ. For now, that's all I am able to do. I hope soon God will show me a way to do more.

Trust, Confidence and Peace

I have been a bad blogger, a bad volunteer and a bad mom lately. All I can manage at this moment is to gestate this baby and try to keep my family in some semblance of order. It's not pretty around here. The house is a complete disaster, I am eating pre-made, processed stuff that I would normally go hungry rather than consume, and my kids haven't done a Saint of the Day or a Devotions in weeks. I'm no longer doing my St. Vincent de Paul work, and I've cut down on the number of times I drive into Denver to see my Catholic Charities families as well. I'm not even attending Mass every single Sunday, let alone during the week, and have totally abandoned the children's Rosary group I started in 2009. Others have been picking up my slack for me, bless them.

I'm honestly okay with this. It's not a choice for me to cut back on the things I like to do. I am physically, emotionally and mentally incapable of living my normal life right now. Things will work out and hopefully I can get back on track by summertime.

For the past seven months I've been trying (mostly without success) to get a handle on my parenting method. This is my version of nesting for a third child! We have all the equipment and I'm well practiced at attachment parenting, so the real question I'm struggling with is: What comes after toddlerhood?

There are SO MANY models, methods, books, and theories that it makes my head swim. Since I don't live on a desert island with my kids, I also have to factor in wildly divergent grandparents and, of course, my spouse. At its core, though, parenting is about what's comfortable for me and my kids, and this is where the biggest problem lies. I simply do not have any confidence at all in my parenting.

My word for the year is ABANDONMENT, and it's come to me precisely because I am struggling so desperately with parenting issues. It's not enough for me to love my children and do my best. I have to know that the method I'm using is approved by this that or the other expert, that it has been proven not to have any long-term psychological downsides, and that it creates harmony in my home. Needless to say, I'm still searching!

There's no perfect method because there are no perfect people -- parents or kids. No matter how many books I read, I'm never going to hit upon the ideal method that works every time and results in adult children who are self-sufficient, holy, and an asset to their communities. The best I can hope for is a method that allows flexibility, focuses on character rather than behavior, and preserves the inherent dignity of each family member.

I have to be okay with the idea that I'm not really in control, that I'm going to make mistakes, and that, despite all my efforts, the chances are that my kids are going to have to struggle to find their place amid the chaos that is this world. They're going to make mistakes, too, and I can't blame myself for how they turn out (even if they blame me!) just as I can't take all the credit if they end up actually being holy, productive members of society.

I think the link between trust and confidence is much closer than the link between experience and confidence. I could let myself by stymied by the magnitude of my responsibility (this person's ENTIRE FUTURE is in my hands!) or I can trust that God is in charge and that my contribution, while important, is by no means absolute.

That thought is bringing peace to this harried, hormonal mom right now. Just thought I'd share it!

Happy New Year!

While I don't go in for New Year's Resolutions, I did think this Saint Finder by Jen is a fabulous thing. I got St. Ignatius of Antioch and since I've been wanting to read more of the early Church Fathers, I think he's a great place to start. I really love the idea of dedicating the year to the intercession of a Saint, and will absolutely be doing that today. Thanks Jen!

I do like developing a Word for the Year. Last year my word was "discipline" but honestly, I don't feel like I did much to work on it. Part of the problem is that I didn't have a plan, I just wanted to keep the word in mind and try to make better choices based on it. A couple weeks/months in, though, I lost sight of the word and bam, it was gone.

I did something new this year: I ordered new pages for my desk planner. They came with goals, values, and mission worksheets as well as weekly goal reminder pages that focus on the multiple "roles" we serve and ways in which we can improve each of them. I LOVE THIS. During the Christmas break, I've been reading through the instructions and thinking about each of my "roles", as well as pondering what our family mission statement might be.

What has me most excited is that this planner allows me a central repository to keep track of notes and progress, write down a monthly or weekly or even daily plan, and provide checks and measures for my goals. I need stuff like this. I have the tendency to overthink and get easily frustrated, which probably means I give up on things much earlier than I should. Planning out ahead of time and building in occasional progress checks should help keep me on track.

I know what my word ought to be this year (and maybe every year): ABANDONMENT. Abandon the self, abandon my illusion of control, abandon my plans and my needs. Allow those around me the freedom to be themselves, and put all my trust and hopes in the Lord.

I will soon have a newborn, which gives me ample opportunity for abandonment! My body is not my own, and likely won't be for another year. My time won't be my own, either. It may seem that my word for this year is the opposite of last year's (discipline), although I personally think it takes discipline to practice abandonment. When I want to rant on and on about my feelings and troubles to my husband, it takes discipline to abandon that want and instead ask, "Did you find a way to get those documents you needed for your case?" or even to allow my husband some silence. It takes discipline to fight the irritation I feel when I discover the kids have not put their toys away, and to abandon my schedule for vacuuming in order to wait for them to come home from school so they can participate in the housecleaning. It takes discipline to decide I must behave differently instead of following the same old patterns of the years before.

The hope of a New Year is such a beautiful thing, isn't it? So much promise and possibility. I love looking back at the Old Year, as well, and remembering where I was, where my children were, and the amazing changes everyone has undergone in that time. God is good, and all things good come from the Lord. May your New Year bring you closer to Him who is, and was, and ever shall be, AMEN!

Photo credit.

Interconnectedness

A few months ago I read Ceremony, by Leslie Silko, for my book group. It centers on a Native American boy who fights the Japanese front in WWII and comes back home to his Laguna tribe with severe post-traumatic stress disorder and survivor's guilt. When all other avenues fail, he turns to the ancient ceremonies of his people to heal his mind, and finds that his journey is one that he doesn't take alone: his actions link him both with his people and those he fought during the war.

One of the themes deals with the interconnectedness of everything in the world. This is, of course, a well-documented philosophy among many Native American tribes, but the book took things even a step beyond man's relationship with the land to man's relationship with man. What we do affects our families, our communities, the Earth itself, and by extension, people in every corner of the Earth. I am an environmentalist for precisely this reason, and am happy to be supported by the teachings of the Church.

Our lives as wealthy Westerners are FULL of consumption and waste. How many garbage bags do we throw away each week? Think of how it increases at Christmastime, or whenever we throw a party. The very act of consumption requires waste: 1. we are replacing something that is used/broken which must be discarded, 2. the packaging around our new acquisition must be discarded, and most importantly, 3. production of anything produces massive amounts of waste, and this is a part of the cycle over which we have very, very little control.

Here's a question, and a challenge: We often donate used clothing items to Goodwill, right? Are we also shopping there? My two favorite household items came from a thrift store, as did my coffee maker, bedroom furniture and many of my picture frames. Of course, there are many things you simply can't buy at the Salvation Army store. Underwear, obviously. And sometimes you need an item that isn't available there, like a dress for a wedding or a pair of kahkis or, in my case, Ugg boots to protect my Raynauds-afflicted toes from wintry weather. What matters is that we make the effort to search thrift stores regularly for those things we need, rather than relying on Target, Walmart, Kohls or ToysRUs. Even those discount stores contribute to the overconsumption that is the root of so much waste and materialism.

This is a struggle in our culture. I do not make light of the pressures that assail us from every direction to consume, consume, consume. Our children beg for new toys, while the hundreds that they already own lie strewn about the house. Our parents criticize our wardrobes or hint that we "need" another appliance. Our friends re-do their kitchen and suddenly we notice how cramped our own is. A new season begins, and we are embarrassed to see our growing kids running around in pants that end above their ankles.

I've been struggling for a long time with a call to give up makeup. *gulp* I just don't know if I can do it. I am very sensitive about my looks. I thought maybe I'd give it up for Lent one year and see if that frees me, but then every Lent I decide I should do something else instead, because I am a coward. A vain, insecure, coward. It is a lot easier for me to limit my shower length, shop at thrift stores and re-use plastic bags than to leave the house without doing my face. I am praying about this, and working towards it. If it's truly what God desires for me, I pray He will give me the strength to embrace the challenge...someday. Was it St. Augustine? "Lord make me chaste, but not yet!"

In the meantime, I repeat to myself: Do what you can. When I'm tempted by the King Arthur's Flour catalog and all their beautiful pans, mixes and gadgets, I say, "This I can do." I can resist purchasing a scone pan. Hooray! When I'm tempted to go out for dinner because I'm just tired and don't want to cook, I say, "This I can do." I can cook a meal for my family. Yippee!

It works with kid stuff, too. When I'm confronted for the eightieth time one day by a string looped across the hallway as part of an Indiana Jones game, I say, "This I can do." I can duck under or untie the string to walk past without getting mad at the kids. Huzzah!

Some of you are perhaps farther along on your walk towards simplicity, humility and counter-culturalism. What are your tips for reducing waste, consumption and vanity in this crazy, materialistic society we inhabit?

A little more Person, please

I am doing better. Thank you, everyone, for your beautiful words of encouragement. I've found that my physical and mental healing are progressing together. I can't remember on whose blog I read it, but a woman who had recently suffered a miscarriage spoke of her "shoulds" turning to "woulds." Instead of feeling, "I should be 22 weeks pregnant now," she had begun to think, "I would be 22 weeks." The difference encapsulates what I'm feeling, too. While I'm still sad, I don't feel the aching emptiness anymore. I don't feel that I'm "off" because I'm not pregnant.

At the moment, I'm reflecting on Lent and discerning my Lenten sacrifice. Gretchen Rubin of the Happiness Project had a post last December with tips on refraining from holiday indulgences. In it, she describes two personality types: abstainers or moderators. After careful thought, I have discovered I am a moderator. I like an occasional treat and can stop after a little bit, whereas when I am totally deprived of something, I grow crabby and whiny and obsess over it.

In fact, it's led me to a realization that I hope will help me better order my time. I think I've been neglecting one of the five Ps (as illustrated in A Mother's Rule of Life): I'm not taking time to feed myself as a Person. This is not to say that I am work, work, work 100% of the day. Far from it, unfortunately. I spend more time than a person should vegging out in front of the TV, and I frequently bake myself any kind of treat I feel like. In fact, do you know what I had for lunch today? Scones with blackberry jam and cream. They were awesome, BTW. I highly recommend that recipe.

The point, though, is that indulging my immediate desires does not grow me as a person. In the serious parts of my life -- prayer, parenting, providing, partnering -- I am growing. But in terms of my self, my professional core, I am doing the equivalent of living on fast food and cupcakes. Those things I do to entertain myself, like watching Star Trek or dancing to salsa music, while thoroughly enjoyable, do not grow me.

So I think what I need to do is give up those little indulgences that make me feel good in the moment, but don't do anything concrete to grow me as a person. Instead, I need to spend that time on something productive, say, finishing my book or writing a short story or critiquing a friend's novel. Out with the mindless, in with the fruitful. Giving up the internet for Lent seems a good place to start, though I think I will follow the example of some other faithful Catholics I know who have done this and allow Sundays for checking email and catching up on blogs. Otherwise, the amount of backlog come Easter is overwhelming.

Jen had an awesome post on this a couple days ago, and I know Anna gave up the internet for Lent last year. Several of the families in my homeschooling network don't own televisions at all (!!!) so I know this is not only an achievable goal, but a laudable one that can bear significant fruit. I'm excited to embark on this journey!

Picture credit.

Turning Annoyances into Opportunities

The vacation is over. (sigh) I came home to a disgusting house where nothing was in the right place and a long to-do list of doctor's appointments, paperwork, errands and organizing that needed to be done STAT. My husband was so wonderful in my absence and got an amazing amount of work done. He painted the whole basement, tore up the old carpet, and sealed and primed the floor for the new laminate that we had a contractor put down the day after I arrived back. He also moved the incredibly heavy wood furniture that I found on sale at a thrift store and bought the day I left for my vacation. It's all in our bedroom looking lovely.

Of course, all this work meant that things which normally stayed in the basement out of sight or in our bedroom holding our clothes were now all over the house, taking up space and inviting the kids to mess with them. Trying to clean and get back into the swing of things with everything so chaotic really stressed me out. This sort of situation is the worst for my temperament. I get very focused on a task and if I am interrupted (as I constantly am by my two children, or the phone, or whatever) my visceral response is anger. I need to consciously work to overcome that anger and deal with the new situation, which is exhausting for me. I am also very easily discouraged and a perfectionist, which means that I set ridiculously high goals for myself and then am thrown into a depression when I'm unable to meet them the way I want to.

Since learning about my temperament, I've been consciously focusing on seeing my emotional reactions for what they are. Rather than letting myself become angry or depressed when I am confronted with challenges, I need to use them to grow closer to God.

Two good examples of this from last week helped me to realize what God is calling me to do. On Tuesday morning our neighbor's dog got run over by a car. Since I saw the accident and knew who owned the dog, I rushed to their house to let them know. Unforunately, it was first thing in the morning and I was still in my nightgown, so I didn't linger in the street to express my sorrow. I ran back inside and by the time I was changed the owner was removing the dog from the street and heading back into their house. I wanted to express my condolences, so I tried to bake them some zucchini bread. I say "tried" because it didn't work out. The bread came out overdone, as it almost always does because I STILL have not figured out how to bake at high altitude (even though I was using a HIGH ALTITUDE COOKBOOK. Ahem.)

My personality took over at this point. Overcome with disappointment that my nice gesture had failed, I sadly ate the bread myself and did nothing for my neighbor. Now, I know I could have used the opportunity for something. Humility, perhaps, in giving a less-than-perfect loaf of bread to the neighbors. Patience, by baking another loaf. Flexibility (which is a virtue, even though it's not usually listed,) by writing out a condolence card and putting that in their mailbox. After all, they didn't NEED zucchini bread to know that I was thinking of them. But I didn't do any of that.

I have been observing lately how often I allow my temperament to control my actions. While I can't change who I am, I can be a better me. I must not allow myself to be ruled by my impulses. I need to master them. It's all part of the greater goal I have for spiritual discipline and going outside my comfort zone to do God's will.

If the first example shows me where I am deficient in my deeds, the second shows me that I am also deficient in my thoughts. Because I want to keep this blog somewhat free of politics I won't go into a long explanation of what has bothered me these past few weeks. Suffice it to say I am not always impressed with other people's opinions or the way they choose to express them. So that, often, when I encounter an abundance of vitriol about a particular issue, my reaction is to turn away from the entire discussion and stick my head in the sand. I give up, not only on the discussion, but sometimes on the person themselves.

Giving up is not in God's plan. But I've been wondering if He is leading me to silence and prayer rather than dialogue and debate. The fact is, I am good at expressing myself, but I am not good at rhetoric. I am too emotionally involved in the issues to discuss them rationally and reasonably. I'm inclined to consider this a strength: I am passionate in my beliefs. My natural inclination is to engage, engage, engage on issues I believe in, but my temperament means that this activity all too often tempts me into judgment and despair.

I feel God is challenging me to give up my way of engaging an opposing viewpoint and instead turn to prayer -- silent, personal, active prayer. When next I encounter a viewpoint or argument that makes me clench my fists and gnash my teeth and consider a witty, hateful status update on Facebook, I need instead to bring my palms together gently, fall upon my knees and pray for peace, kindness, compassion, justice, wisdom, courage, and love. What a beautiful response to being annoyed!

Accountability Analysis
Week of August 30th
Working on: Organizing house for start of homeschool, cleaning, meeting requirements for all activities
Successes: healthy eating, consistent outdoor playtime, all requirements for activities met!
Challenges: finding time for prayer, keeping my temper
Average daily HOS: 0

Week of September 7
Working on: establishing Rule and routine for school year, turning to God when annoyed

Picture credit.

I'm writing from my vacation up north in Michigan. My in-laws have a house right on the lake in a little village that used to be a thriving lumber town before the turn of the century. It's just south of Sleeping Bear Dunes and part of the National Lakeshore, which makes it a truly remarkable place with views that bring peace into your soul. Today the lake is extremely windy and agitated. From inside, through a window and while sitting in a patch of sunlight, the lake is lovely. Trying to sit on the beach, though, would be totally miserable.

If I thought about it long enough, I feel like I could come up with some cool metaphor linking the beauty of a windy lake from inside the security of a warm log house with the beneficence of faith sheltering me from the winds of circumstance or something, but you know what? I am on vacation and I just don't have the brainpower! Sorry...

Since I am away from home (and on vacation, have I mentioned that?) I am relaxing my Rule in terms of keeping on schedule. I do have several guidelines for my month up here, though.

(Those of you with kids can read these like the Genie from Aladdin)
Rule #1! I can't completely let go of my prayer life. At a minimum, I want to drag the kids to Mass on Sunday for one hour of absolutely hellish aggravation that makes me question my decision to raise my children as Catholics, pray the Chaplet of Divine Mercy daily for my parents, say one decade of the Rosary for the intentions of the Rosary Crusade each night, and offer each morning to Jesus through the Immaculate Heart of Mary.

Rule #2! I can't overindulge myself. I can have pie, ONCE a day. I can have ice cream, on a day I DON'T eat pie. Just because my in-laws are generous, fun-loving people does not mean I can take advantage of their munificence and get a new outfit every time we walk around the downtown. It's not a bad idea to keep some level of discipline going with the kids, too. One new toy per outing is PLENTY.

Rule #3! I can't pawn off my children entirely on their grandparents and spend the day blogging...oops. No, seriously. Doob Time and Gin Time need to be preserved. 1/2 an hour a day for each child, concrete, one-on-one activities that they choose. It really is too easy up here to let Grandma and Grandpa entertain them all day. Especially because all four of them enjoy that time so much.

So there you have it. Minimum standards for vacation. I have additional goals of setting out my curriculum plan to begin Homeschooling the Doob when we return, and possibly finishing Pope Benedict XVI's latest encyclical, of which I am 1/2 way through. There's also a book on the 1967 Arab-Israeli war that's caught my attention, and possibly something on Northern Michigan flora and fauna...but more likely I will spend my evenings chatting with my in-laws and watching what passes for news up here. Last night's Top Story: the weather forecast. I kid you not. We are all on vacation up here, I guess!

God Bless you all.

Picture credit.

Transparency

I'm noticing an increasing need for more accountability in my life. I have grand ideas and excellent intentions, but I keep falling away from the disciplines I'm setting myself. A spiritual director would be ideal for this (*wistful sigh*) but I really just can't see how that can happen. I have spoken with the Priests at my Parish and none of them do counseling (except for those discerning a vocation.) Regnum Christi provides spiritual counseling as part of its charism to those who join, but I've not received an indication that God wants me to go that route. I've heard only wonderful things about the Neocatechumenal Way, which we have at my Parish, but they are formatted in lay groups to support members' spiritual growth. I really do not need support; I need guidance. The Lanteri Center for Spirituality does do counseling, but I'm at a loss as to how to work the child care aspect as they are far away and only open during business hours. It's one of my fundamental dillemas: how to pursue my spiritual needs without overburdening my husband or our finances.

So, I've told the Lord to show me an opportunity for spiritual counseling if that's His will, and in the meantime I'm trying to go it alone.

Which is the crux of my problem. I am not independently motivated and am very, very, VERY bad at self-discipline. I need, as one dancing partner in my salsa classes once told me, "A firm hand." It's apparently true for my life as well as my dancing.

At the moment I have a daily schedule as outlined in A Mother's Rule of Life that organizes my day into activites around the 5 Ps (Prayer, Person, Partner, Parent, Provider. I add Pastorage as well, because I don't feel my volunteer time is accurately encompassed by either Prayer or Person.) It's realistic, balanced (though necessarily heavy on time with the kids and taking care of them,) but liveable. I'm not following all of it, though, because I tend to do only those things that people are asking me to do. Given that the most vocal people in my life are my children, I am excellent at tending to their needs. However, the activities that have no one advocating for them, such as afternoon prayers and sewing, have stopped entirely, and I'm watching reruns of Star Trek at night instead of reading or spending time with my husband.

I'd like to post weekly on my successes and challenges, mostly so that I have a place to look back and determine patterns in my progress, but also for the practice of reporting my efforts. If that little bit of motivation helps me to choose wisely when I'm confronted with temptation, it will be well worth the small bit of embarrassment from admitting just how much of my day is dedicated to spec-fi.

Week of: June 14
Successes: One-on-one time with kids, keeping up with laundry, sticking to budget
Challenges: Scolding and sarcasm, self-indulgences, obsessing over Star Trek
Average daily HOS (Hours On Schedule): 3

Week of: June 21
Working on: Getting everyone ready by 9 am

Star Trek Fan in Withdrawal Credit

Prayer and Fasting

I had the privilege of attending a talk by Ivan Dragicevic, one of the 6 Medjugorje visionaries, last Monday night. We had an hour of the Rosary, during which the Virgin Mary appeared to him up by the altar, then we had Mass followed by Ivan's talk on Mary's message.

Her message, as it always does, revolves around peace, love, and a call to prayer, sacrifice and deep devotion to God. That is what she has been asking for in just about every apparition in all the centuries. Ivan talked to us about the type of prayer she wants: nothing less than wholehearted, passionate, intimate conversations with God, who made Himself incarnate to draw us nearer to Him.

She has said that we should all be praying 3 hours a day. People tend to react with immediate horror whenever they hear this. In Church on Monday the congregation gasped. Three hours! Every day! Impossible!

I don't think it is. Ivan clarified that it doesn't all have to be at once, nor does it have to be quiet, contemplative prayer. Reading the Bible counts. Attending Mass counts. Corporal works of mercy count.

And because I'm a mother, I've compiled a list to illustrate how a typical mom might be able to reach that three hours in fairly simple and straightforward ways without taking too much time out of her busy day:

Daily Mass: 30 minutes (if you're lucky enough to get a particularly long-winded or slow-talking presider, this could bump up to 45)

Morning Offering: 5 minutes

Nightly meditation: 5 minutes

Various daily prayers (to St. Anthony for a lost item, to Jesus, Mary and Joseph for patience, to the Holy Spirit to guide a conversation, to the Archangel Raphael for safe car rides, etc.) 5 minutes

Reading Bible or Daily Meditation: 15 minutes

Rosary after kids are in bed: 15-30 minutes (1 1/2 hours if full 20 mysteries are prayed)

Cheerfully singing hymns while washing dishes: 15 minutes

Moved to tears listening to local Christian radio station while running errands: 15 minutes

Reading Letters of St. Augustine or A Mother's Rule of Life or Daily Catholic news on web: 15 minutes

Making meal for friend who just delivered a baby or sorting and delivering donation to Goodwill or knitting scarf for homeless or packaging books for overseas soldiers or volunteering at nursing home or delivering communion to the homebound, etc etc: 30 minutes

Rocking child to sleep singing slow, meditative hymns: 15 minutes

TOTAL: 3 hours

Other suggestions:

Reciting seven Our Fathers, Hail Marys and Glory Bes while folding laundry/taking out garbage/waiting for schoolbus/emptying dishwasher/scrubbing bathtub/standing in checkout line/waiting on hold for customer service, etc.

Teaching children the name of a Saint and his/her patronage

Divine Mercy Chaplet or Chaplet to a Saint

Listening to Rosary on CD while driving

Confession

Participation in Parish organization (cleaning linens, baking host, St. Vincent de Paul, Extraordinary Ministers of the Eucharist, etc.)

Fasting

This last one I'd like to expand upon a bit. The messages from Medjugorje are explicit in their call for fasting. Mary is asking us to fast twice a week on Wednesdays and Fridays consuming only bread and water, and with the special intention for conversions (defined by Mary as anyone who has not felt the overpowering love of God in their lives.) Since Wendesday was Ash Wednesday and a day of fast anyway, I tried it.

I found it surprisingly easy. Not in the sense that it was fun, in any way enjoyable, or that I'm eager to do it again soon, but easy in the sense that I never felt unbearably hungry. I had thought, since bread and water is considerably stricter than the general Catholic guidelines for fasting (two small meals), that I would be doubled over in pain and nausea by the end of the day, desperate for nourishment.

On the contrary, the worst thing I experienced was a slight case of dry-mouth. My stomach barely rumbled. Like the time I gave up shoping for a week, the fast served to alert me to just how much excess food I consume in a day. It also brought home how often I eat just for the sake of eating. As my mother said when we discussed it today: "I know that I have all this food in my house. I have pecans in the pantry just waiting for me to eat them. Every single cuisine on Earth is available, from China to Argentina. It makes me want to eat." When we are surrounded by temptation, it makes it all the harder to resist.

Yet the truth is, our bodies don't NEED to eat three complete meals a day. We certainly don't need meat more than once a week, and unless we're digging a well or planning to raise up a barn, we certainly don't ever need "seconds."

So why do we eat so much? Well, because it's there. Studies have shown that people consume more food when they are served a large portion at a restaurant, regardless of how much they are paying for it. And if bread, condiments, appetizers and hearty beverages accompany the meal, people will eat those, too. (Interesting tidbit: 3-year-olds resist eating past the point of being full, 5-year-olds do not.)

Plus, food tastes good. We want to eat because we like the taste of things. That was mostly what I thought about during my fast when I was tempted by the smell of something. I thought about how good it would taste to chew it up and swallow it. My body was not sending me hunger signals, but my emotions were.

The hardest part of fasting is not the hunger. It's resisting temptation. Likewise, the hardest part of prayer is not the actual praying, but the setting time aside to do it. Whenever I begin the Rosary I feel such a sense of peace it makes me wonder why I put it off so often or get distracted by something else.

Discipline. That's the key to true spiritual fruit. This Lent, I hope to make myself and my desires smaller, while making God bigger. All Glory and Honor to You, Almighty Father, for ever and ever!

New Directions

I've been overwhelmed lately with emotions. Part of it is from medication I'm taking (mood swings and ultra-sensitivity have made for some pretty ugly days around this house.) It's become abundantly apparent to me that I have difficulty controlling my emotions. No one seems to have a good answer for this. Everything I've read and heard just comes down to one solution: Do what's right and don't worry about how you feel.

I can see the wisdom of that. Mostly, that's what I aim for. I don't feel like getting up at 2 am and patting the baby back down to sleep, but I do it. I feel like giving all our money away to an orphanage in Uganda, but I count pennies at the grocery store instead. I'm pretty adept at doing what I need to do. Sometimes kindly. Sometimes not. Yet I am still a roiling sea of resentment, frustration, impatience, intolerance and misery.

The other advice I often hear is to Give it to Jesus. Umm, apparently, Jesus doesn't want it? Because somehow I still have all the pain. He must have given it back or something. Who knew the Christ was a re-gifter?

Anyway, being as there doesn't seem to be a way to change my emotional reaction, I think a bit of a switch is in order. It is time to stop whining about how difficult it is to be Woe-Is-Me and focus instead on the ones this blog was designed to focus on. The poor. When I first started, I intended to post maybe 25% of the time about my personal efforts to Take the Poor With Me. The rest was supposed to showcase the lives of the poor, highlight NGOs doing good around the world, share prayers and novenas and Saints who focus on the poor, maybe with a dash of politics every now and then.

Thus I intend to start focusing on some of those other things. Look for more regular and useful posts in the near future!

Picture Credit.

Self-Indulgences

I have been MIA these past months from a combination of writer's block, emotional frustration and personal crises. Everyone is mostly healthy now (my son broke his arm in early May and has been sick since mid-June with a nasty stomach bug that just won't.go.away and which everyone else has shared) and we're past all the big events that have taken so much of my time (trips to visit family, planning my son's 5th birthday party, and houseguests.)

My heart has been stilted for a while now. I'm trying to keep busy so I don't think about the constraints that keep me from acting as I wish to, but every now and then something reminds me and I'm upset all over again. On Thursday evening I was making dinner when the phone rang. Our alma mater was calling to thank us for the generous gift we gave them.

I said, "Oh. Sure, no problem." and then asked my husband if we had given them something. Yep. $20. I know it's not much, but according to his arguments, we can't afford ANYTHING for charity right now. I wish I could say I accepted the news with grace, went off and prayed about it, then respectfully discussed the matter with him a few days later. But instead I snapped, "Then you won't mind if I give $20 to our Church building fund, will you?"

I still wonder if I'm doing the right thing by doing nothing. There's always another financial setback (our insurance company just raised our deductible from $300 per person to $4,000 because of all our trips to the ER in the last couple months) and it just doesn't seem to me that my husband has any incentive to change his thinking. We are further from being able to adopt and give to charity than we were when I began this blog a year ago, yet I've been praying daily, offering up my Masses and sacrificing my own principles for the sake of our marriage.

Trust. The theme of every message I've gotten recently comes down to one simple fact: I am not trusting God to perform a miracle for me. I still think there's something I need to be doing, or saying, to convince my husband to my position. It might take years for his heart to be softened, and in the meantime I absolutely cannot be nagging, prodding, complaining or whining.

I just wish that it didn't hurt so much. That I didn't start crying any time someone even so much as says "Africa." That passing the empty basket at Church didn't cause me physical pain. That I didn't have to throw out every envelope from Save the Children, St. Jude's Hospital, Save Darfur, Samaritan's Purse...

In conversation with a friend the other day, it became clear that God is asking me for concrete sacrifices dedicated to my husband's conversion. I'm incredibly self-indulgent. When my alarm goes off in the morning, I press snooze for half an hour. I snack constantly. I'm on the computer a hundred times a day. I sometimes skip prayer to watch TV. I wallow in self-pity and bad moods, show all my emotions as soon as they appear, rant and complain more than I care to admit, and generally indulge every whim.

I'm willing to make sacrifices for the poor. Why not for God and my husband?

I've decided to start small. Getting up when my alarm goes off. (I call it "Sit up for Jesus!" and that's what I say silently to myself every morning. "Sit up for Jesus, Tienne. Sit up!") Fasting from one meal a week. Limiting myself to one serving size of desert after a meal.

I'm hopeful these little sacrifices will strengthen my will and fit me for the trials to come. Conventional wisdom says things will get worse before they get better. Mary, my model, be with me and guide me. Shower me, God, with strength. Amen.

Christmas Preparations

Happy and Blessed First Week of Advent to everyone! I love this time of year. I love lighting the candles on my Advent wreath and decorating the house, baking cookies (and eating them), singing Christmas carols, finding gifts for friends and family and the general smells, sights, sounds and sensations of the season.

We try to be as Catholic as we can during the season. We don't put up the tree till Gaudette Sunday, and we refrain from Christmas carols till Christmas itself (though I make an exception for the kids: we sing one Christmas song every night as part of our nighttime routine.) St. Nicholas comes with a small present for the kids on December 6th, and Christmas itself is dedicated to Christ and family. I'm pondering ways to truly embrace the spirit of the season, though. I want to prepare for Christmas with sacrifice and prayer much like Lent prepares us for Easter.

I've contemplated a Buy Nothing Christmas, but I'm not sold on the idea for a couple reasons. First of all, I think the urge to celebrate by giving gifts is a nice idea. If it's being taken to extremes by marketing agencies and shopping malls, well, they're free to try and convince me to buy more if they want to. It doesn't mean I have to buy nothing in response. The main problem, though, is that it requires EVERYONE you know to buy into it. Otherwise, you receive an abundance of love but don't communicate your goodwill in a language your friends and family understand.

I do, however, like the idea of homemade gifts, simplifying the holiday, and cutting through the propaganda to unearth the true spirit of the season: Christ's love.

So I've made a pledge: I will not buy a single Christmas decoration this year. I've already stopped buying Christmas lights, though I did pick up some used coils at a garage sale last June. I'm also going to try and say a prayer for the persecuted Christians in China whenever we pass any decorated trees/homes/lightpoles/signs, etc. Lights are everywhere, so the prayer has to be short! "Lord, please strengthen and bless those who suffer for You." We have four whole boxes of decorations in the storeroom already, so I really shouldn't need any more this year. I know I'll want some, though. We've moved to a new house and I'm already at a loss for what to put on my front doors, since we now own two instead of one. Still, I'm going to try and resist. Even if I find things on sale! This includes fresh evergreen wreaths, of which I'm particularly fond. Maybe I'll hunt through my decor and see if I can find a pine scented candle tucked away somewhere, or maybe I'll see what I can cobble together from the overgrown juniper bushes in the backyard.

I've been lax lately about my prayer life. I need to return to saying the Rosary every day, to start. I've also found this wonderful site with a guide to Advent prayers for each day of the season, something which I hope can help me focus my thoughts and energies on the magnificent gift God sent us in His son.

As always, though, I'm seeking ways to remember the poor in my every day life. This season, I'm particularly conscious of those who don't know our Lord loves them, or who reject him for whatever reason. I'm mindful, too, of those who live under the oppression of a hostile government and aren't free to share their wonder and joy at Jesus' birth. And I think of those unfortunate families who are so caught up in the stress and materialism of the season that they mostly just feel pressure to keep up with the Joneses. For all these, and for the poor souls in Purgatory who are waiting to be reunited with Christ, I will dedicate my daily Rosary.

Best wishes to everyone at the start of this marvelous season! How blessed we are to have this opportunity for reflection and anticipation!

Advent Prayer

Come, long-expected Jesus. Excite in me a wonder at the wisdom and power of Your Father and ours. Receive my prayer as part of my service of the Lord who enlists me in God's own work for justice.

Come, long-expected Jesus. Excite in me a hunger for peace: peace in the world, peace in my home, peace in myself.

Come, long-expected Jesus. Excite in me a joy responsive to the Father's joy. I seek His will so I can serve with gladness, singing and love.

Come, long-expected Jesus. Excite in me the joy and love and peace it is right to bring to the manger of my Lord. Raise in me, too, sober reverence for the God who acted there, hearty gratitude for the life begun there, and spirited resolution to serve the Father and Son.

I pray in the name of Jesus Christ, whose advent I hail. Amen.

Stewardship Sunday

Today was Stewardship of Treasure Commitment Sunday at my parish. That's a long and fancy way of saying that they pass out the envelopes and ask everyone to write down a weekly or yearly pledge. Fr. Andrew gave an excellent homily addressed to the "5 groups of people in this congregation." The first group was those who have never given and have no intention of giving to the parish. And I had to sit there and listen to the message, knowing that I was part of that group. I wanted to stand up and yell, "I'd give, but my husband won't let me!"

It's so frustrating. I know God is aware of our family situation right now and I know that He wants me NOT to give. Truly, it's not that I care that the office clerk is going to tally up my envelopes for the year and shake her head and think, "Another family who gave nothing." What makes me so annoyed is that the church NEEDS my gift and I'm unable to do anything about it. Our parish is redoing the sanctuary starting tomorrow (there's a special Mass tonight and procession to move the Eucharist into its new spot in the school gym) and I can't be a part of it. They still need 7 million dollars to finish the reconstruction, but I can't give. Our community has hungry and needy that the parish cares for, but I can't participate. (Yes, I can donate spare goods -- which I have -- but the primary need is monetary. I worked for a nonprofit and frankly, unless you're Goodwill those material donations are more of a hindrance than a help. People like new things, many children's toys and equipment get recalled or are no longer usable, and the donations don't always exactly match the needs of the community. Money is really the best way to help.)

I don't want to be in the first group! I want to be in the last group, the group that tithes 10% every year and has only to readjust their pledge to accurately reflect any new income.

I had a strange conversation with my husband the other day. I'd found this site from one of the adoption blogs I'm following and had mentioned it with some excitement. "We wouldn't have to wait as long to find the money; we could start the adoption process next year!" My husband looked pained. "Isn't it need based? Because there's no way we'd qualify. We have too many assets."

"What do you mean, wouldn't qualify? Aren't we like, thousands of dollars in debt?"

"In my head we are." I must have looked poleaxed because he explained, "I sold stock to cover the debt. You know that."

This is the sort of thing that always made me nuts about economics and business when I had to take them in high school. I don't care what state the money exists in. I don't care if it's in a savings account, or it's stock, or it's cash under the mattress. There's only two kinds of money: assets and credit. We use our assets to make payments and our credit to purchase things that would take too long to save up for (a car, a house, etc.) Good financial stewardship means maintaining sufficient assets to make all required monthly credit payments and cover the expenses of living, while setting money aside for emergency savings, retirement, and significant future expenses (college, down payments on a house, etc.) Everything else is window dressing as far as I'm concerned.

If our assets were sufficient to cover our debt, it means we have no debt. We DO, of course, have house payments, car payments, insurance payments, school fees and a host of other expenses, but that's not the problem. My husband isn't saying that we can't give to charity or adopt a child until we own our own home. I misunderstood from his email that timing was an issue in this matter. Based on what I know now, I don't think it is. The stock has been sold already. We're not racking up interest payments on the debt anymore. So why can't we do a 1/2 and 1/2 sort of thing? How about we live frugally, pinching money wherever possible, then whatever we save, 1/2 goes into an account to offset the amount of the recent debt, and the rest gets put toward charity or adoption?

I don't know whether to bring this up to him. I'm really doing a VERY POOR job of humbling myself and waiting for God's time on this issue, but I'm just having such trouble justifying the delay. People need our help NOW and we can't even set a firm timetable for when we would be in a position to give. It's all this arbitrary, subjective point where we've put "enough" into a savings account. "They recommend you have an emergency fund equal to three months worth of expenses," says my husband. "How much would that be?" I asked.

The answer? Twice the current amount of our "debt."

I almost fell through the floor. How does the situation keep changing and our debt keep getting bigger and the wait keep getting longer?

"Well what about adoption?" I said. "Is that something we'd sell stock to cover, or would we save up for that?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "I guess we could sell stock."

I didn't ask the follow up question to that, which was, So, if we sell stock for an adoption, does our "debt" then increase by $30K? Is that ANOTHER threshold we have to meet before we can give money to charity?

Pray for me, please. It's all I can do right now to not shake the man. I'm succeeding in having these conversations with him rationally and calmly. I'm truly seeking to understand his point of view and accept his decisions.

But I'm really having a hard time.

Picture credit.

Ambition and Kairos

I had an interesting conversation with my mom a few days ago. I sent her this link from Et Tu, Jen?'s Weekly Favorites and while discussing it we broached the subject of feminine ambition.

Though I hadn't really thought too much about it, I immediately said that I wasn't ambitious. I did well in school because I was expected to and because I liked being in the honors classes with my friends. It didn't hurt that I liked to read, so at least English, History, French and Religion were interesting and fairly easy for me. Still, I didn't work as hard as I could have (especially in college) and I performed up to the standards other people set for me rather than aiming for greatness in myself. Once I graduated, I cared only that my job be in the nonprofit sector where I could do some good; I had little interest in climbing the corporate ladder and even within the organizations where I worked, I never sought to gain management or leadership positions.

"I mean really, the only thing I've ever cared about is serving God. "

Immediately my mom replied, "Well, that's more than most people aim for."

I shrugged. "I don't know. Isn't it just the minimum expected of us as Christians?" And we moved on to other things.

But I've thought about the conversation more since then and come to realize that I am highly ambitious. Deeply, thoroughly, loftily ambitious. Serving God is an ambition, perhaps one of the most difficult and exhausting goals that exist in this world. And it's something I've always aspired to, even when I've fallen pathetically short. Which I have. Often.

If my primary ambition then is to serve God, and if I am serving Him in humility and obedience, then why do I allow myself to feel small because I'm not out there doing something for the world? Am I sure that what I want is really what God wants from me?

For years now I've felt that I failed God, that I gave up on my dreams of serving the poor in Africa because of weakness and selfishness. I wanted to get married. And so that's what I did. Had I possessed ambition or strength of will, I would have trusted God and followed Him instead of grabbing at the best man I could find and working on him until he proposed (after I'd booked the hall and Church, btw.)

It's true that I didn't follow my plan to live in Africa and work with the poor. That doesn't mean I'm not serving God. It doesn't mean I've given up on my dreams. The manner in which I serve God may be different than I had originally planned, but I am no less His.

Nor have my ambitions been compromised. I still want nothing less than to dedicate my entire self to Him. Wherever He wants me to go, I'll go. Whatever He wants me to do, I'll do. Even when I don't want to do it. Even when the very thought of it makes me cry.

My husband sent me a beautiful, bittersweet email the other day. He had to sell some stock to cover our debt, and discovered it's twice the amount we'd feared it was. He proposed setting up a separate account into which we could dump any money we saved by spending less on groceries, giving up eating out, canceling our cable, etc., etc. until we'd paid off the debt. At that point, he pledged, he'd be much more open to giving to charity.

Part of me rejoiced. A plan! Wonderful! A committment to really saving money! Tremendous! A promise to be charitable! Praise God!

Then I did some calculations. Years. That's what we're talking here. YEARS of limiting our grocery bills, living without new clothes or furniture, scrimping as much as possible in hopes of paying down this debt. The scrimping I can handle. We've always lived simply. But years to go before I can give anything to help the hungry? I was thinking a year at the most, just to get us back on our feet from the move and give my husband some time to reflect on the many blessings we have to share with others. When I decided to stop pressuring my husband to give to charity and instead focus all my efforts on paying down our debt, I certainly wasn't thinking years...

What annoys me so much is that we haven't accumulated this debt with any sort of excessive living. This is the result of adhering to our values. Had my husband taken a job with a big defense firm in Chicago when he graduated law school, he would have made four times the salary he got at the small, consumer rights firm at which he did take a position. Even his salary now is half what it would be if he practiced corporate law instead of consumer law. Part of me is wondering what God's up to. We're in this debt because we were trying to do the right thing, and because of this debt we can't give any money to charity and we can't adopt a child from Kazakhstan and we can't afford wine which God quite CLEARLY wants us to consume great quantities of. (Wedding Feast at Cana anyone? Last Supper? Drinking wine is practically a commandment!)

It took me a while to calm my soul and see that I'm trying to over-control things again. There are things I desperately want to do, like adopt a child and send money to Africa. I want to do these things NOW. But God is saying no. I don't know why. I don't know if it's temporary, or if it's something I'm never meant to have and never meant to do. Only God knows that.

My response now must be to wait on Kairos -- His time. If God wills that I go to Africa someday (and I pray He does) then it will happen when HE wants it to, in the appointed time that He decides. If it is God's will that we expand our family through adoption, then that, too, will happen when the time is right. If it is God's will that we give generously to those in need, then I must wait for the opportunity He will provide.

I've been angry that the things I'm reaching for remain so firmly out of my reach. I try a ladder and it's knocked away from me. I ask for help and am met with indifference. But all my stretching won't get me somewhere God doesn't want me to be. When things don't come together despite my best attempts, I need to stop, back away, and turn to God.

I'm listening, Lord. Show me what You want me to do.


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Ask and Ye Shall Receive

I want to thank everyone for their insightful and supportive comments, especially for the recommendations to read up on St. Frances of Rome (could there be a more perfect patron saint for my situation!) and to wait for God's time in finding a solution to my problem.

For a while now I've been praying that God will guide me, and He has. Through Scripture, through the words of the priest at daily Mass, through conversations with people, the insights on my friends' blogs and the inspiration of the Saints, He's spoken to me.

My son's Godparents, both good Catholics and close friends of mine, gave me The Story of a Soul by St. Therese of the Little Flower, which I've been reading off and on. (It's one of the books by my nursing chair, so it entirely depends how cooperative my youngest decides to be as to whether or not I get to read any of it each day.) So many things have struck me in her story, but foremost above all is the simple, faithful, all-encompassing love she had for God, even as a very young child. She wanted nothing so much as to love Him and serve Him. Loving Him and serving Him brought her joy.

That's how I feel about the poor. I have an inherent love for them within me that's been there since I was a child. I don't try to help the poor because I believe that it's good and right to do so (though it is,) or because God instructs us to care for those in need (though He does.) I do it because my love for the poor rises up and shakes me into action. I recognize this now as a gift. God wants me to serve the poor, of that I'm certain. He would not have put this drive in me for no purpose.

But the key is that I serve Him in the way HE wants, not the way I want. Some of you have touched on this in your comments to me, and I've really taken them to heart. I think it's telling that my gut reaction to Jen's idea of fundraising was "God no, NO! Anything but that." and to Anna's suggestion to step back was "But then my husband WINS."

This isn't the reaction of someone who's seeking to serve God and follow His will. It's the reaction of a hyper-controlling, uptight, Type-A personality. My way obviously isn't working right now, so I need to find a new way. God's way.

I read once that the Mongols (or perhaps the Huns?) were so successful in battle because they were taught to fight like water, finding cracks in the defense and working their way through bit by bit until they overcame. This image has been churning around in my head the past week or so. I feel like my desire to help the poor is the current of a river -- it's flowing intensely within me right now, urging me on. And I keep running up against the dam of my marriage. It's making me frustrated and swelling my resentment of my husband. The force of my drive to help is causing me harm.

And God is gently trying to redirect this river, opening up channels to provide relief and continue the flow of water to where it's needed. Am I really going to keep butting up against the dam when other avenues exist?

I've talked again with my husband about our money situation. We had the exact same circular argument we always have, just with different words. For him, it all comes down to our debt. For me, it all comes down to our choices. We can't work together unless we're on the same page, and he's made it quite clear that he can't change to meet me.

So I must take on his focus as my own.

I can commit myself to doing everything in my power to pay down our debt. I can forgo all things for myself, including pizza (woe!) and gifts. I can do my best to save money wherever and whenever I can, including on our grocery bills and clothes for the kids. After all, I'm doing all that stuff anyway. But instead of fighting my husband to send the money we "save" to the poor, I can turn it over to him for our debt.

In some ways, this is all semantics because I don't really have a choice as to what I do. I have to save money. I can't give money to the poor. So it seems almost self-delusional to now claim that I'm doing these things for God. But a true Christian spirit is to take the things God gives us and turn them back over to Him, to accept with love and grace the burdens He places on us and to carry them cheerfully for Him. I cannot change my situation, so I will instead change my attitude. What a beautiful gift for God -- my heart and will instead of my money!

The hardest part, and I still don't know how I'm going to handle this, is what I do when my husband makes a decision I completely disagree with. These don't come very often, thankfully. I'm blessed that my husband is even more frugal than I am and would never just go out and buy $20,000 of home entertainment equipment on a whim (yes, I do know someone who has done this.) But I can't force this commitment on him. If he wants to spend five hundred dollars traveling to our alma mater for a football game, my sacrifice is to say nothing to him about it and go on quietly working to save money on my own.

I feel this is where I'm really going to have problems. I'm not very good at letting things go. Or with trusting God. Or with patiently waiting. And the underlying marital disconnect is still there. I just need to find a way that it doesn't affect me as much. I think making this sacrifice will help. I'm doing it partly for my husband -- this debt is obviously very important to him. I'm doing it partly for the poor, in the hopes that once the debt is gone we can move towards a lifestyle that incorporates giving generously to charity. But I'm mostly doing it for God, in obedience to the path He's setting out for me.

It's here that I'm so inspired by the example of St. Frances of Rome. What she wanted most in life was to be a nun, yet she spent all but 4 years of her life carrying out the domestic tasks required of a noblewoman's wife. Through it all she found ways to serve God, often doing things she hated, like attending a party with her mother in law. Like it or not, this is my path. I can choose to go where God directs me, or stagnate and grow angry forcing my own way. I choose God's path.

I have a new mantra, in addition to the one I say to help me be a better mother ("Mary, my model, be with me and guide me.") It is "My all for you, my God." I hope the frequent repetition of it helps remind me that everything I'm doing is for Him and worthy of being done with joy.

Picture Credit

Unity in the midst of Strife

A conversation I had with a friend of mine the other day has me thinking about unity; specifically: the unity of a married couple where one partner disagrees with the other on a matter of moral responsibility.

Specifically: my marriage, in which my husband and I disagree on the manner in which we should spend our money.

I started this blog to track my efforts to do more for the poor in my everyday life, but I haven't been posting so much about the main struggle that I'm encountering. My husband is a good man, highly ethical, supportive and a good provider. We make a perfect match, actually, because he is pragmatic while I am idealistic. As I told him the other day "Together you and I make a good person." Without him, we would be in fantastical debt. Our bills might not be paid. Our children's future would be entirely unsecured. We certainly wouldn't have a house without his responsible stewardship of our credit rating.

But he does not think we can afford to give anything to charity at the moment. In the past, when I've come to him with a certain cause I want to contribute to, he has agreed on the condition that we cut back on something we're currently paying for. My Netflix subscription, for example, was canceled so we would have money to give the Archdiocese of Chicago for their annual campaign.

In general, I think his method is both morally and financially sound. I don't need a Netflix subscription (good bye, dear historical romances.) I feel much better about giving money to my church than spending it on entertainment. But as of right now, there's nothing more we can chip away at to find extra money. We're living frugally and responsibly. So if we want to give to charity (which I do) we have to start giving up the things we need to share with others.

The paint is an example. I want to give equal the amount we've just spent on painting our house to refugees from the Darfur conflict. So I suggested that instead of painting the rest of the walls this weekend, which we had planned to do, we wait another month so we have money to give to Darfur. To put it simply, I was met with resistance.

And this is my quandary. I don't have any money of my own. Neither does my husband. The money he makes at his job, we share. The money I've made, we share. We are a unit, a partnership, and neither of us can act unilaterally.

Yet what to do when my conscience urges me to spend in a way that he disagrees with? How much say should one partner have over the other's spending habits, especially in a marriage where we trust each other to make responsible financial decisions for the general good of our family?

As a Catholic, I know that my marriage is a vocation. It is through it that I am called to serve God. Subsuming my own desires for the sake of my marriage is absolutely necessary, even when those desires aren't directed for my own benefit. My mother has counseled me numerous times to simply leave the issue alone, to serve the poor in non-monetary ways. For the most part, I try to do this. But I am called so strongly to do something for the poorest of the poor, particularly in Africa where my heart has always been drawn.

Moreover, I know that we DO have money to give to charity. It is important for me to decorate our house and create a welcoming place for us to live, just like it is important for me to send my son to Montessori, to give him the best start possible in his education. Yet when it comes right down to it, neither of these things are so necessary that if my husband were to lose his job tomorrow, we wouldn't immediately stop spending money on them. There is money in our budget for Darfur, if we are creative and willing to sacrifice.

Yet if one partner is not willing to make that sacrifice, then what?

I'm attempting something this week which can be characterized as courageous or deceitful, depending on how you look at it. My hope is that it's courageous, and when I share my experiment with my husband, I hope he'll see it that way, too. I ask for your prayers as we work through this division, and for our future together. If anyone wishes to share their insight on unity in a marriage, believe me, I'm all ears!

Q & A

What is all this exactly?

Take the Poor With You is a way of thinking, mostly centered around awareness of the many people in this world who are much less privileged than I. When I am aware, I am grateful. When I'm grateful, I want to give back. My goal is to always be thinking globally, so that everything I do benefits the world instead of just myself.


What does that mean in practical terms?


The general guidelines are explained best in the "Three Rs to Remember" post. Basically, I am trying to reduce my consumption and live more simply, support companies that are responsible to the poor, and balance my spending on myself with donations to charities.


Why not just sell everything and go live on a commune in Africa?

Some people are called to that vocation. Others are called to support them. Jesus called us all to be His disciples, but He only called twelve to leave their families and walk with Him as He proclaimed the Gospel. In my vocation as a wife and mother, in my location in America, in my own capacity and with the talents God has given me, I want to do as much for the poor as I can. So while taking care of my family and providing a loving, God-centered home, I'm trying to live simply, be responsible with my money and time, and donate where I can to assist those who are directly ministering to the poor.


Is this some sort of religious thing?

I am a devout Catholic. Everything I am and everything I do will be impacted by my faith. Take the Poor With You is not about religion, it is about love. For some, the two are synonomous, but you don't need to be a Christian to understand that there are those who need our help, and we are morally bound to provide it if we can.


I work hard for my money. Why should I give it away?

If hard work were the only requirement for wealth and prosperity, then most of the world's rich people would be poor and most of the poor would be rich. The real disparity is not in effort, but in opportunity. So if we've been blessed with opportunities and talents, it's our responsibility first to make good use of them, and then to turn around and share them with others. That means building schools, providing food and humanitarian aid, working for justice and democracy, promoting fair trade and international business ethics, working to cure and prevent deadly diseases and ensuring that basic human rights are met in every country around the world.

If everyone adopted this method our economy would tank. We need motivated workers for businesses to succeed and active spending to support commercial enterprise. Living "simply" and giving to charity sound like good ideas in theory, but people just won't work as hard if there's no benefit for them.

There's plenty of benefit. It's the difference between enough and too much. Imagine a restaurant with two tables. The first is piled high with food: omletes, salad, roast beef, smoked salmon, honey glazed ham, onion rings, green beans almondine, spinach pies, bread of all kinds, drinks of all kinds. The people at that table are eating, laughing, talking with their friends, pushing back from the table and rubbing their stomachs. "Oh, I ate too much!" "I'm so full!" The other table has nothing but bread. Does it make sense for the first table to call out for dessert and tip the waitress to add extra chocolate sauce, when they are already so full they can't sit comfortably? Does it really matter in this scenario who has money and who doesn't? Will the restaurant go under if the first table buys a decent meal for the other table instead of ordering dessert?


The purpose of money is to buy things. Of course. But it's what we buy, why we buy it, and for whom that matters.



But you're taking things too far. Your posts sound like you consider it wrong to buy a chai at Starbucks. Shouldn't you enjoy life once in a while?

I think there's room for a discussion on why we enjoy buying things so much. We truly do not need most of the things we own. So why do we buy them? To impress our neighbors? To feel the pride of ownership? To soothe an anxiety or distract us from a worry? Simply because we can? Why do I want that chai latte? It isn't the caffine fix. I can spend 7 minutes boiling water for tea at home and it would jolt my system in the exact same way, and for pennies. A treat from Starbucks fills a desire in a specific way that homemade tea or free office coffee does not. THAT'S what we're buying. Starbucks, for the most part, treats their employees well and offers fair trade varieties of their coffee, so I'm not saying we shouldn't support Starbucks! I am saying that we cling to our rituals and our freedom to spend frivolously for the wrong reasons.


Of course we should enjoy ourselves once in a while. God is a loving father who wants to provide us with good things and see us happy. But we can think before buying that chai: is there someone who needs this money more than I? Can I buy a tall instead of a grande and donate the difference? Can I get a plain coffee instead of an iced frapuccino with caramel swirl and donate the difference? Can I donate the same amount I'm spending to charity? Can I go without coffee today and strengthen my will? How can I take the poor with me, right here, right now, and make a difference that matters?


And that's the point.

A few Rs to Remember

Taking the poor with us is a mind frame, a way of operating that keeps those in need in the forefront of our thoughts. Ideally, it will prevent us from consuming to excess, help us appreciate what we have, and motivate us to give from our hearts to alleviate the plight of the poor throughout the world.


Reduce, Reuse, Recycle

Probably among the best advice possible for living a simple life. First and foremost, reduce consumption. Do I really need that latte? Can I make myself a cup of tea at home? Can I fast in solidarity with the poor and offer my caffeine deprivation to the Lord? We must strive to buy only what we truly need, and not simply whatever we want. What about the things we already own? Let's reuse them as much as possible. Tear up old t-shirts and use them as rags. Repair the scuff on that shoe and use it for another season. Borrow a party dress or a suit from a neighbor and give them one of ours in return. There's lots of life in our current possessions, if we get creative with them. And when something is no longer usable or used, we can give it to Goodwill or to our parish. Both HP and Dell offer free recycling for their old computers, printers and scanners (Dell will also recycle other brands for a small fee.) The Salvation Army takes old furniture. Almost anything can be given away with Freecycle. There's plenty of opportunities to give, if we just look for them.


Research

We need to be informed as to the impact our decisions can have. Look into fair trade and support companies that engage in profit-sharing with the workers who manufacture their goods. Boycott companies whose practices oppress the poor or fail to fairly compensate them. We should always know where our purchases come from, and what it took to bring them to our doors. Conscientious Consuming has a good overview of the principles of responsible buying. Perhaps the company we shop with is on the National Labor Committee's watchdog list. Before buying anything, google the company to see whether they conduct ethical business practices, and what their policy is towards the global market. Get informed, stay informed, act on the information.


Responsibility

The problem of poverty is man made. It must be solved by man.

That means us.

Those of us who by the grace of God were born into a free country and given the opportunities to receive an education and provide for our families are in a position of power and responsibility. We are the stewards, the leaders. Our actions can perpetuate the disparity between rich and poor, or we can help alleviate it.

When we accept that our good fortune requires us to give back, we accept our responsibility. From there, we must act on it. Some good sites to begin the journey of discovery are the Fair Trade Federation, Institute for Policy Studies, and the Center for Economic and Social Justice.

On a more personal level, we must be responsible stewards of what we have been given. That means first and foremost staying out of debt. Always live within our means, never trap ourselves into a cycle of unpaid bills and credit. Invest for our future, secure our children's education, plan for our retirement. Keep a cushion of money for medical bills or unforeseen emergencies. We can't help others if our own financial situation is a mess.


Request

Perhaps the most important step of all. We know that God answers prayer. As our loving Father, He wants all good things for us, His children. We can turn to Him for guidance, help, and support. Pray every day for the poor, but pray too for the rich. Pray that we may change our hearts and be generous, sympathetic, compassionate and brave.

Pray for miracles.

Goals and Aspirations

Without a lot of fanfare, I want to start this. It's something I've felt called to do for years now, and I'm letting a lack of support and direction prevent me from making something real out of it. So let's begin. Let's start the journey and learn along the way.

Here's the goal: Take the Poor With You.

In all I do, think first about the impact on the poor, and adjust my actions accordingly. Each day, blog about the decisions (especially purchases and activities) that I've made and assess whether they had an impact, what it was, and how I can better serve my fellow man.

Be with me, Jesus, and guide me as I seek to serve You.