Surrexit Christus Alleluia!

Happy Easter! The strife is o'er, hope is renewed, and we are celebrating with all the food and drink and music and joy we can muster.

Perrin watching Daddy make a pussy-willow bough at Babcia and Dziadzia's house.

Our basket for the food blessing.

Ben made a lovely early breakfast for the two of us <3

And the warmth and sunshine made for the best sap flow yet!

Good Friday: On Fear and Not Carrying the Wrong Cross

In Fr. John Lacey's Good Friday service homily, he pointed out that we will always have our crosses whether or not we believe in Christ or choose to carry them.

It was actually a relief for me to be reminded of this. When I hear the phrase "carry your cross", I tend to strongly resist. I suppose I think that somehow, if I say yes, that is what will allow suffering to be heaped upon me. Accepting any cross Christ gives me? - my mind jumps to the most extreme versions of what that could entail: concentration camps, martyrdom, or (worst of all) losing my child - um, no I'm not ok with any of that, thanks.

But in reality, both good and bad things will happen in my life regardless of whether or not I choose to place them in God's hands.

In fact, I realized that the cross Christ wants me to carry isn't usually as heavy as the one I cut out for myself. What I am actually asked to deal with is the real things that are happening in my life, whether that means not-being-asleep at 3am when I really want to be, or financial setbacks, or family conflict. There is pain involved, but it is by no means crushing me. Now I know that some people are experiencing much much greater, more excruciating things, and that maybe at some point I might have to as well. But that's where I have to have the faith that God will give us only what we can bear (knowing how small and weak we are), and try my best to support those with the hardest burdens.

What I am not meant to be carrying is the fear of All Of The Things. All the possibilities that my brain cooks up to worry itself over but that have no bearing in reality. These root me in fear, rather than love. I waste my limited energy resources trying to carry a cross that doesn't even exist, while getting distracted from the actual needs of the moment that do.

There is only one cross that contains every human suffering, and it is His.

Thoughtful Thursday: What Child is This?

A Blessed Christmas Eve to One and All!

   This year, celebrating Christmas for the first time with a child of my own, I was thinking about the day to day reality of Christ becoming a little baby. An actual baby, not just a cherub on a card, a picture-perfect infant with a halo, but a real live newborn.

   Such practical questions as "How did Mary and Joseph wash the swaddling cloths?" and "Did they have multiple ones to use while the other ones dried?" have been circling in my mind.

   I get a more concrete sense of the Incarnation when remembering that Jesus would have cried, spit up, hiccupped, cooed, gooed, giggled, pooped explosively, pulled off the breast making milk spray everywhere, and made hilarious baby faces to the constant amusement of his parents.

   He became man. He took on our humanity and all the nitty gritty beautiful difficult mess that comes along with it. He jumped right into the thick of it, out of total and utter love. Right into our helplessness, our vulnerability, our weakness - starting as one of the tiniest and least, unable to control anything, even His own feeding or cleanliness.

   In the midst of whatever sufferings we are struggling with this season, here is the greatest consolation, that He is right here along with us, embracing our human condition with all His dear heart in order to raise us up with Him in the Resurrection. And there are baby smiles to delight along the way.



 
 

Mindful Monday: Live Till You Die

   This morning we attended the funeral of Fr. Pat McNulty of Madonna House. He was a special priest with the appearance of St. Nick, loud shake-you-up preaching, and the gentleness of a teddy bear. In the MH paper Restoration there is a photo of him holding Peregrine a couple months ago, which may have been the last photo taken of Fr. Pat. We'll treasure that one.

  Restoration published a farewell article from Father wrote wherein he talked about approaching the end of his life and how he needed to spend his final days, not focused on the process of dying, but instead - living. Paying attention to the people around you, doing life-giving things (he picked some books to read and study), and being present in life until the last moment.

   Athough we aren't all as close to death, (but who knows, right?) I can't imagine better advice. All of us will die, in the end, and it is so tempting to allow the tendrils of death - fear, darkness, despair - to creep into our minds and hearts when we see suffering around us and remember the shortness of life.

 Even those who don't believe in an afterlife can understand that we will miss out on what we have now if we go through our days concentrating on the end. But if I believe in the mercy of Christ and the fullness of life after death, I can choose to stop already dying and start living my entire life, now being only the beginning chapter to eternity.

   Something everyone can relate to right now is the threat of terrorism. C.S. Lewis, despite living in an earlier era, talked about how to approach the possibility of being bombed. He said:

"Let that bomb when it comes find us doing sensible and human things - praying, working, teaching, reading, listening to music, bathing the children, playing tennis, chatting to our friends over a pint and a game of darts - not huddled together like frightened sheep and thinking about bombs."

- On Living in an Atomic Age -

  To take my cue from Fr. Pat and C.S. Lewis, I want to become a person who spends each day mindfully: enjoying tea, bathing the baby, feeding the bunnies, cleaning up our messes, kissing my husband, grieving in a healthy way, celebrating beauty, praising God. Embracing life, not death. I would like to screw worrying about when my moment of death might come and let it find me truly "being", so that it can become a but a doorway into "Being".

Thoughtful Thursday: Security

 Thursday I have reserved for my Deep Thoughts, which I dare say are much less deep than I like to believe. And yes, I know it's now Friday. That happens with a two-month old. :) Nevertheless, here we are, and I've decided to start with one that is frequently on my mind - the idea of security.

   It's what we all want, isn't it, to know that everything is going to be alright.

  In recent years I have found myself battling with my nemesis, Anxiety. She is not as much nerves and flutters as she sounds, but rather a numbing, paralyzing force that overwhelms and strikes fear to the heart. That is in her worst moments, of course. I haven't seen her as much recently, in the contentment of family life and, I believe, a grace of respite. These days are mostly peace and joy. Every now and then, though, she appears, and usually associates herself with questions of security.

   Unlike my eternal optimist husband, I have always been inclined to look to the future, to store up ahead of time so things will be improved later on - to do university readings a week in advance so I wouldn't have to the next week, to eat the plain ice cream first and save the rolo pieces for last (which backfires, as that is inevitably when someone comes along and asks for a bite). Sometimes I do it so much I forget to reach the more enjoyable future that I have prepared for and just keep preparing.

   Ideally, i would love everything to be secure, to have all the money to pay the bills already in the bank, to have the propane tanks full to the top, to be all prepped for my weekly meal plan. And on a bigger scale, to know that the government is going to make the best choices, to know that my loved ones' lives and relationships are going to work out, to ensure health and safety for us all.

 Unfortunately nothing in this life is secure, the fallen world doesn't work like that. Employment is uncertain, governments are flawed, sad things happen, people die - the only true security is in the salvation of Christ, his love and promises of an eternal home.

   My anxiety feeds off the desire for security - there is nothing inherently wrong with feeling anxious, it happens, and that's ok, and it's also ok to try to change your feelings to more pleasant ones - it is when anxiety turns into a desperate need to control, and especially a suffocation of generosity, that it becomes sinful. It becomes avarice, as Fr. Denis Lemieux' book Idol Thoughts has been (kindly) hammering home to me. I am frequently tempted to decide that because my desire for security is understandable, it is therefore justifiable to let it take over.

  An example might look like this: finances fluctuate, I panic over some little instance, having spent a little more that we can currently cover - I become rigid and ungenerous - no, we can't possibly share one of those little yoghurt cups with a visitor, there's just the right amount for lunches this week! Finances fluctuate again, for the better - no, we can't possibly give more to charity, we have to hoard more away in case the hard times return. Always too much focus on earthly security, the storing away for tomorrow, telling myself that I can be in control and make sure there will be enough and that it will be alright. Even if I say "I trust in You", I catch a little voice in my head saying, it will turn out ok, I can choose to be trusting because I can always find ways to spend less. Ummmmm. Trusting in God somehow just turned into trusting my own thriftiness...

   If I want to live fully and joyfully as a Christian, I will have to give up on security... (to be cont.)

On the Incarnation

Made flesh, like a true word penned

Whose deep black ink sinks into every fibre,

Permeating substance, offering to lend

Itself, its own high meaning to the page

That, open-faced, awaits the scribe.