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A different kind of labor on my baby’s 16th birthday

Sixteen years ago today — right now — I was in labor with my firstborn. It was a moment in time that would change me forever, a day that would usher into my life a new definition, a new vocation, a new and fierce kind of love. Today, as Noah stands on the brink of adulthood, Read more

My Ebenezer Scrooge moment

Today, in the midst of my absolute craziness, I was given the gift of a little sacred moment in an unlikely place. And, as far as I’m concerned, those are the best sacred moments, and usually the ones we need most.

After my haircut this morning, I ran into the library to grab a book waiting on hold for me, the whole time thinking about how I didn’t have a spare minute for any of these errands and activities. As I headed back out, I looked down the side hallway in the library’s entry and stopped short.  Read more

Covert Advent operations: Can we sink any lower?

You may recall that last week’s kick-off to the Advent festivities at our house deteriorated into fighting, screaming, a coin toss, and, eventually, a declaration (by me) that all fun Advent activities would cease at once and until further notice. (We did keep up our Advent wreath practice before dinner each night, however.)

So this morning I asked Chiara if maybe she’d like to retrieve the wooden Advent calendar from the basement, along with the Playmobil Nativity set, and the little Advent Christmas tree. Her immediate reaction was a panicked, “NO!” That seemed curious, so I persisted. In a teary voice, she said that she didn’t want to take out the Advent activities because she was afraid there would be more fighting.

Hmmmm…Things were getting curiouser and curiouser. Read more

Doesn’t everyone start Advent with a coin toss?

I wish I could begin this post with some inspiring story about how we returned from Saturday evening Mass and a lovely dinner out last night to gather around the Advent wreath and begin this season of hopeful anticipation with joy and love and peace. And I guess I could tell you that if I just wanted to sound good in print, but (as I mentioned yesterday in my welcome-to-the-new-blog post) this place is about honesty on the spiritual journey, and so I have to tell you what really happened. Read more

Mass like it was in the early Church

Sun room chapel

Last weekend we were lucky enough to have Mass celebrated at our home by Chiara’s godfather, who was up for a visit. (He’s vicar general of the Metuchen Diocese in N.J.) Olivia, Noah, and Noah’s friend were the readers, and Chiara was the altar server.

Footlocker altar

If you ever have the chance to experience Mass in such a way, grab it. The closeness of the altar and the intimacy of the liturgy really make for a powerful experience, just like it must have been for those early Christians who gathered in homes to pray and break bread.

Godchild and Godfather

Everyday Divine: The Eye of the Storm

 
A mild storm in upstate New York

Although New York’s Capital Region was spared any serious weather issues due to Hurricane Sandy, I have lots of family and friends facing really difficult times ahead. No power, trees down, houses damaged. Today I’m sending out prayers to all of them and everyone else whose lives have been turned upside down by the storm.

So often, when things like this happen, we find ourselves questioning. Why? Why here? Why me? Why not me? All of that made me think of a passage from my new book, so I thought I’d share it here today even though my book will not be released until one week from now. Read more

Home office, Part II: The circus side of sacred

I’m way back there in the corner to the left.

So when Dennis saw those photos of my home office virtual tour yesterday, he asked the Million Dollar Question: “Where’s the cat condo?”
Truth be told, I did get the cat condo in a few photos, but when I was posting, I had way too many photos. So, of course, the cat condo was among the first things to go.

Here, then, is the less flattering view of my office with all the flotsam and jetsam that is part of the deal. I still love it, even with the less-than-Zen nonsense that goes with it.

The photo above gives you the long view of the basement. My office is at the far end, just past the futon and video game section. But before you get there, you have to run the toy gauntlet.

This is where Barbie lives. She has a much better office.

How many cars does one Barbie need?

To the right of the overflowing toy bin, through that dark door is where the centipede lives.

Oh, that’s right. We have 73 Barbies. Lots of cars needed.

At least I can pick up breakfast on my way into work. This looks only slightly messier than our real kitchen.

Drive thru.

This (below) is where you leave the toy mayhem behind and enter my office. The Chinese characters spell out tranquility, home, and peace (or so I’ve been told). See that nifty board-game room divider I created? It’s supposed to be filled with office files and sacred objects. For now I have to go with Scrabble and Battleship. At the very least I guess I should put dried flowers in the empty vase.

Enter the tranquility.

Here’s what our cats are doing to the recliner near my office. Good thing they’re cute.

And still I refuse to de-claw them.

Behind my desk and right next to my sacred space is the cat condo. It’s not pretty, but it keeps them from trying to vault over the big-screen TV to get to the only other window. That sad little casement window is my only source of natural light.

When you’re in my office looking out, this is what you see…games…hermit crab tank…light saber…mini-fridge stocked only with 100 percent juice, fruit cups, seltzer, and the occasional pudding.

Can we at least get some macadamia nuts in that mini-fridge?

Someone yesterday asked if my office section always looks this neat. NO! That’s why I had to document it. Here’s what it usually looks like, and even this isn’t that bad for me.

Taken during a book-writing project, no doubt.

And finally, one last not-so-crazy look at my main office. See why I love it? If you click on it, you can see all my beautiful book posters up close. (My publishers are awesome.)


Simon Who? First pope revelations

Here’s how tonight’s dinner conversation went:

Dennis: Who did Jesus tell,”Upon this rock, I will build my Church?”
Olivia: Simon?
Mary: Yes. Simon who?
Chiara: Simon Cowell?

We don’t normally focus on this sort of stuff while passing the mashed potatoes, but tonight we went off on a religious education tangent. This answer definitely won the prize.

These are days to remember…

I was driving to and from Noah’s film club meeting, Olivia’s horseback riding lessons, and Chiara’s competition ballet-tap-jazz class yesterday — and squeezing in some much-needed raking during the “spare” minutes at home in between –when I started to get that overwhelmed, woe-is-me feeling. I was heading down the same road for the third time in less than an hour, wondering how we had reached this tipping point.

As I pulled onto the long gravel road leading to the stables to wait for Olivia’s lesson to end, Natalie Merchant started singing “These Are Days,” and suddenly I could feel tears forming out of nowhere. Not tears of frustration or desperation, but tears of sudden realization. Tears of gratitude for what I know is a blessing, as difficult as it can sometimes feel.

These are the days
These are days you’ll remember
Never before and never since, I promise
Will the whole world be warm as this
And as you feel it,
You’ll know it’s true
That you are blessed and lucky

In a flash I went from fragmented to full, fast-forwarding to some day down the road when my children no longer need me to cart them around or read the stories they make up or take them on a camping trip.

I remember when Noah was a toddler, and people who were parenting teens at the time would tell me to savor the terrible twos because adolescence was going to make it look like a cake walk. And they were right. And now, when I complain about a house cluttered with toys and book bags and school papers, those same parents remind me that in a few short years my house will be quiet and clean, and I will long for the days of clutter and confusion. And I have no doubt they will be right again.

These are days to remember, even when I want to forget.

Here’s Natalie to sing us out. Have a great weekend, and remember to savor the moments, even the ones that make you crazy.