My Joyful Mysteries, and A Revolution of Real

Yesterday was summer. Seriously. Today I realized we are closing in on March. Days and Months are flying by. When it came to this Fall, and Winter there was so many things I wanted to do- I haven’t done many of them. 

Instead I am still knee deep in this place where I’m catching up, trying to figure it out, and wondering why at 38 I have way more questions than I did 5 years ago. I feel like I’ve dropped something in a murky lake and am trying to find it…I know it’s there but I also know I’ll be searching for a while longer. 

I really wanted to get a regular routine of exercise in but having 4 kids in three different schools and a revolving door on sports, along with my job, and a husband whose job is never predictable has made it super hard to figure out. My friends who build their lives around exercise won’t understand that, they’ll wonder why I can’t figure it out…my answer is…

I’m so damned tired. I used to make a joke that I’ve been tired for the last 15 years but really it’s just the last three. And I used to schedule my life around my long runs, and the classes I taught. I used to only buy workout clothes. I used to post pictures after my long runs with Koya, or post about amazing classes I’d taken. And now when I get to go it’s a luxury. But it’s also not easy, the harder I work – the more tired I am after. 

I really wanted to have my health stuff all figured out before now, but it’s been hard getting people to listen. Instead I’m seeing more closed doors than open ones.  I am not a person who advocates well for myself, I also am not fond of making appointments or even going to a doctor. Instead I ignore and hope things go away. When I do go I’m painfully honest, and I hope that something will lead to good results and help. And then I try the natural things first, and mind over matter. But hippy oils, and vitamins, and tapping pressure points hasn’t worked. So I wait for a door to open, and I get another referral, and I thank God that my husband and kids are so amazing, and that I’ve finally found some doctors who seem willing to listen. 

I really wanted to start watching a show, but the one that everyone keeps telling me to watch is “This is Us.” This is also the one that almost everyone that watches it posts about how much they cry at episodes…um No thanks. I watched two episodes. It’s beautifully written, and seems wonderful. But I don’t want to voluntarily sit down for a good cry over fictional characters. Especially since I rarely watch TV as it is. Instead I watch reruns of “The Office” with my family, and spend the rest of the week quoting Creed and Michael Scott. And nobody cries.

I really wanted to take my kids sledding…actually that’s a total lie. I don’t want to go to the snow. Ever. 

I really wanted to figure out to buy leggings or books or something from an online sale, but I can’t seem to figure out how all these multi marketing leveled sales work. Also I just don’t have time to figure it out. Something has to make sense and be perfect. And then I’ll still ask questions. 

I really wanted to surprise my kids with fresh cookies after they worked in the yard yesterday, and the only thing I surprised them with was the smell of the cookies I burned. Ps. Micah said they were delicious. 

I really want to not worry. 

High School baseball tryouts are tomorrow and I’m so worried. I’m worried about some people I love who are dealing with illness’s where the outcomes don’t look good.  I’m worried that my daughter may never figure out subtraction. I worry about finances and pressure to have it all together. I worry that God closed doors he had previously gave me a yearning for for good. I worry about my friends who are battling addictions.  I worry about how I look and feel so often that I beg God to make me be kinder to myself. I worry about the people that think they don’t fit,  that hurt and resort to dark places and don’t want to go on. I worry about our divided country, that we won’t stop arguing and I pray that we will start to bind together for ALL of us. I worry about the kids at my school that are so starved for attention because they have become second to a screen, to an addiction, to a relationship, that they act out in ugly ways and I’m worried I won’t know how to love them. I worry that my kids will choose this world over their faith, and their wives will be shameless hussies. I worry that Grace will move away someday(and not take me with her).  I’m worried I’m too far behind. I’m worried I won’t figure it out- that I’ll still be searching months for now- but I can’t give up. I worry that I’m failing them…my family, with the fatigue and my health. 

I don’t want to fail them. 

And then…AND THEN… I read the gospel for today: 

24 ‘No one can be the slave of two masters: he will either hate the first and love the second, or be attached to the first and despise the second. You cannot be the slave both of God and of money.
25 ‘That is why I am telling you not to worry about your life and what you are to eat, nor about your body and what you are to wear. Surely life is more than food, and the body more than clothing!
26 Look at the birds in the sky. They do not sow or reap or gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they are?
27 Can any of you, however much you worry, add one single cubit to your span of life?
28 And why worry about clothing? Think of the flowers growing in the fields; they never have to work or spin;
29 yet I assure you that not even Solomon in all his royal robes was clothed like one of these.
30 Now if that is how God clothes the wild flowers growing in the field which are there today and thrown into the furnace tomorrow, will he not much more look after you, you who have so little faith?
31 So do not worry; do not say, “What are we to eat? What are we to drink? What are we to wear?”
32 It is the gentiles who set their hearts on all these things. Your heavenly Father knows you need them all.
33 Set your hearts on his kingdom first, and on God’s saving justice, and all these other things will be given you as well.
34 So do not worry about tomorrow: tomorrow will take care of itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.’

Matthew 6: 24-34 

God’s love is an open door…his words are real and salve to the worried soul. His timing is always perfect. Piece by piece as I wrote this, I laid my worries at his feet. I gave him these fears and he placed his words over mine. The words His Son said, the words My God said. 

I gave him my worries and walked away. Because standing outside a closed door leads nowhere…but moving forward, finding new doors, and being open to letting God be great, and remembering to set my sights on him. Only Him. 

While the last months I’ve been searching through the waters looking down, whenever I’ve looked up I’ve seen amazing tremendous miracles…God hasn’t disappointed. Maybe I haven’t found the answers but he has always shown up. 

I need to look up more often.  I need to seek Him first. And hold tight to those who matter most.

Happy Sunday. don’t Worry. 

to God be the glory. 
Love, Kristin Ann 

(Recently there have been a lot more questions than answers. In fact I couldn’t write for months, and have rewritten this short post multiple times. Back space. Start again. Delete. Try again. And I’ll probably second guess every word later. Sigh.)

I’ve carried a lot with me for a long time: anxiety and fatigue over a long term health issue and wanting/waiting to be heard, mourning the loss of relationships and people. People who hurt my family by attacking my husband’s integrity and job- people I thought loved us, people that chose politics over love, people that I realized only show up when they need something. Even when I never ever gave up on loving them, inviting them into our lives, and my heart–even when their words hurt my family and their indifference hurt me so deeply. 

I’ve carried worry for the people I love who are struggling financially and are scared, hurting physically, and dealing with lifes big huge hurts. I hurt for people are taking care of the dying,  for people who are fighting to live, and people who just received a diagnosis. I’ve carried their hurts and worries with me. Because that’s what you do when you love someone…you show up. 

I’ve carried regret for all the ways I will never add up, the ways I was never enough. And the ways I’ve failed in my family, in my marriage, and as a parent. 
But. But.

In the past month God has shown me a lot…I have been rendered speechless by the realness of God. I have been humbled to witness a miracle, I have been given some answers medically, and I have learned that it’s not my job to make everything all right. Instead it’s my job to believe, and pray. Trust, and pray. 

And hope.

I’ve found Hope. And I’m choosing it…because hope only gives way to Love. Hope only gives way to Life. Even in uncertainty Hope brings peace.

The truth is I’ve been pretty broken for a while…but I’m ok. And I’m love. So love. And in love, brokenness looks small. And is manageable. 

But I had to make a choice. 

It’s a choice I make everyday. 

I choose to live in Hope. 

I choose to trust in God. 

I don’t know if everything is going to be all right. But I do know God. And God is good. So, I make a choice without knowing how it’s all going to turn out. 

I choose hope.

…to a God be the Glory. 

…Live. 

Art by Brian Andreas. 

Last month I suffered a concussion after trying to deal with two of my kids in two different directions and the side of my head and temple went into the side view mirror of my husbands truck. The big joke was “I parent so hard.”

I have had a headache every day since my concussion and am still having some slight memory issues(they say this can last up to two months). I am fearful of working out because I’m afraid to fall, because I’m afraid of the dizziness and nausea coming back. But all in all- I’m actually doing great considering. It could have been so much worse.

One of the weirdest things is I actually have had some suppressed memories come up- and they have been raw and real. I also have lost my filter. And I cry…a lot.(okay that’s not a new thing, but I’ve been crying about new things.)

So I guess this is kind of a disclaimer before you read my posts for the next while. I usually care about who I may offend, but I don’t right now. It’s not that I don’t care about you, but I do care that we spend so much time being offended these days. And I’m kind of over it.

And here’s the thing…pretty much my whole lifestyle is offensive to some groups.

I’m a practicing Catholic- like we even go to church on vacation- we pray the Rosary- and get this- we’ve never used birth control…like we are those Catholics. Years ago I had a lady thank me(in the meanest way) when I was Nine Months pregnant for adding another Carbon footprint…while my husband revved the engine of our big red suburban. In fact I would have had a million more children if I could. Thankfully I get to be around 600 everyday.

I breastfed in public, and if my kids couldn’t have nursed I would have totally owned bottle feeding.

I (gasp) let my kids eat McDonald’s.  I use my kids eating at McDonald’s as a excuse to buy my self Diet Dr. Pepper. In fact I’d like you to buy me a Diet Dr Pepper.

I love that I married a Super Hero. I love that he chose to go into Law Enforcement 15 years ago even though I am fearful every single day. I hate how people treat our Officers, and I fear for my family. But my husband shows up- in honor and sacrifice, He does his job and I will never stop fighting for him.  He is a good man.

I won’t discuss Politics, but I will tell you I compare Modern Politics to the game telephone we used to play when we were kids. Because of social media the truth becomes distorted and most of us “sharing” articles or ranting about issues usually are taking things out of context or aren’t privy to the whole truth. I’m a big fan of research- beyond popular blogs or even news-sites. We live in such a fast paced society that it shocks me how little we really know. Or how hypocritical we are as humans. I’m also a big fan of voting. And voting your conscious. I’m not a fan of Colin Kapernick and it has nothing to do with him kneeling during the national anthem(in fact I respect him for staying during it), but it has everything do with him choosing not to vote.  And I was actually bummed to hear Miley Cyrus is not moving out of the country. But whatever I’m praying for them both. And I need to go to confession for not loving them. PS. This won’t be the first times I’ve confessed this.

I struggle a lot with my body image. A lot.  And I have let my anxiety live rent free for a long time about it. That probably isn’t offensive except when I tell you I hate posts where people talk about how healthy they are, or post “motivating” pictures of themselves doing lunges in teeny shorts. And they always have perky boobs. Anyway I don’t feel motivated. I feel shamed. I do however feel motivated when I see people out running- face beat red, and they look like they are working hard and they are out there…And I like seeing pictures of people after races with the victory on their faces. I used to be one of those people. I miss that. Because it wasn’t about how I looked it was about how hard I worked.

I say Shit a lot. I say it out loud a lot and in my head even more. I know it’s not classy and shit. (And my Grace just read me writing this over my shoulder and giggled and said “You do say that a lot.” And all I could think was I’m so glad she’s reading…)

I really feel like we need to love better. To be kinder. To stop with the discussing our point over and over so that we’ve forgotten how to hear someone else. We need to listen. Especially to our kids. 

And we need God. We need Jesus. So so much. Last night as a family we sat in church for a long time. And all of us lay this heaviness down in prayer. My kids are dealing with their own heaviness and as a family we are clinging to what we know is true…

We cannot take on the World, but we know Who can.

We cannot do it all, but we know Who will.

And we know that God is good. Even in the darkness, even in uncertainty, even in all of the ugly that surrounds us- together we entrust our family to something bigger. To someone better.

I don’t know how you can survive without Faith. I don’t know how you can survive without God.

So while I’m flawed in every which way possible,  seeing my boys last night across the aisle reminded me of what matters…

Faith…and absolute surrender to God.

Because God is Love. And He loves so Hard. No one is exempt from this Love- and as a family we will follow his lead and show love and kindness fiercely.

God is Love. And He Gods so hard. 

Don’t ever change little sparkler…

Shine bright. 

Even when someone leaves you out, or doesn’t include you.

Even when someone makes fun of the way you dress, or wants you to fit into a mold like everyone else. 

Shine bright. 

Even when you are told to stop twirling. 

…to stop singing. 

…to stop dancing. 

Shine bright. 

Even when the tests don’t reflect your beautiful brain. 

Even when you don’t make the team, or get the part.

Shine bright.

Even when people are mean, and tell you you aren’t good enough.

Even when your best friend breaks your heart.

Shine bright. 

Even when you are too short. 

…or too tall. 

…or too pale.

…or too dark.

Shine bright. 

Even when someone calls you mean names. 

Even when someone hurts you, makes you feel small and insignificant. 

Shine bright. 

Even if you aren’t asked to dance. 

Even if he stops loving you. 

Shine bright. 

Even when it’s dark. 

Even when you’re scared. 

Even when you feel alone. 

Shine. Bright.

Because you, my little sparkler, illuminate our whole world. From the moment you were lifted out of my womb you have changed us with your absolute incandescent light- joy upon joy– every single day of your life. 

Your light never went out as you battled through health issues.  You  kept glistening, shining, hoping, and reaching for health…never doubting it would be there. You’ve never doubted healing would come. 

You bring bright twinkle lights and such happiness into your friendships, into the classroom, and everywhere you go. You love so well…freely- openly. People want to know you- they want to be around you- because your love is without condition. Your arms are wide open to the world and you love it all. 

And I hope that as you grow and change, that your light continues toshine around   you.  I hope that you always know that you, little light of mine, are truly a gift of Amazing Grace, from a God who saved me. 

And you saved me…you, my little sparkler- you remind us that God is good. 

You saved us all in so many ways. 

You remind us everyday…God is faithful. And joy is never overrated. 

Shine Bright my Grace. Shine Bright. 

*bottom picture by k Dimoff photography. 

I’m sorry if I haven’t returned texts or calls…you see I’ve been busy.

I’ve got kids playing four different sports, and there’s four different instruments being learned, youth group, and first reconciliation classes starting…and my husband works so much. 

I’m sorry if I haven’t made more of an effort. The truth is I’m really tired, and feel like I’m never quite there…I’ve got so much to juggle and so many schedules to handle. I’ve cried almost every night this past week because I’m falling so far behind. 

Because I can’t finish the laundry. Because I can’t get a work out in.    Because I can’t be more to everybody. 

I drove 40 minutes to watch 10 minutes of my sons flag football game, and then drove 40 minutes to get back in time to pick up another son from soccer. 

And yeah; I know it was crazy and not wise…my husband already told me that. 

But he also knows I wouldn’t have done it any other way. Because that’s who I am. 

That’s who he married. 

I’m running on empty. And still I want to wrap all the little faces in my school that tell me their stories, that share their loss with me on the playground, in my arms and give them a safe place. A place where they don’t doubt that they are loved.

I’m failing at laundry, and dinner, and organic produce. But I’m not failing at love. My kids don’t doubt my love. Ever.

So today when I cried again…I thought- is this just me? Does anybody else feel like they just aren’t enough…that’s they’re too far behind…that they may never catch up? 

How do I handle it all with work and three schools, and all the activities, adding in call-outs, and life? 

I recently read an amazing article on minimalism and I’d love to do it, but how the hell do I find the time to minimize? I can’t even poop without scheduling it. 

How do people do it? Is there a gene missing from me that should be able to handle it all? 

So I’ve just gotta write what I know…

And they are worth it. All the busy means that they are living and I get to be a part of that. And I keep reminding myself that they’ll remember the love. So much love. 

And somehow I need to find the balance of sleep, or maybe just learning to let go of my guilt for what I’m not doing right- for how I’m not adding up. Because these circles under my eyes along with my tight pants aren’t really the look I want to pull off with boots this fall. 

So…I’m not there yet. Instead I’m off to pick up Pizza for a fundraiser before I pick up kids from football and baseball. 

And I’ve just gotta say…

Who ever invented the term “having it all” was full of shit. They are probably the same person who invented am group texts, and the comments on articles on the Internet. 

 You can have some, and when you’re lucky realize what a blessing it all is…this busy season. But having it all is too stressful. 

So here’s to those of you like me…who can’t figure out Pinterest and think you may be wearing your shirt backwards- you got up. You got your kids ready. You got home at 8:59pm and everyone got pizza. And everybody loves pizza. And while it’s not perfect…it’s pretty damn good on paper plates. Less dishes. Boom. You can do this. 

We can do this…imperfectly. But with a whole lotta love- and foundation and spanx. We can. 

May the force be with you- along with copious amounts of Diet Dr Pepper. 

to God be the glory. 

There was a day when you shared little things- like the first time you locked eyes, like the unspoken friction as you spoke…the way you were shy and tried so hard to pretend you weren’t hanging on every glance, every word, every quickening heartbeat. 

There was a time where you placed “firsts” in the pockets of your heart…firsts like holding hands on walks after dark. The first dance when you were surrounded by people,and there wasn’t even music, but it didn’t matter. The first time you sat next to eachother at church and your knees touched.  Receipts from lunch at the Safeway Deli, tickets to movies, and the note left on a  windshield with a flower picked from a neighbor’s yard. Kisses in an old Red Toyota Celica. 

There was a place where you learned the ugly parts, the parts you couldn’t hide from this person who said they loved you …red hot jealousy over past loves. The time where anxiety was so overpowering you had to sit in the car, rather then meeting their friends. Fighting over petty little things, and learning to listen, and choosing to not be passive aggressive. 

There was a space you began to share the little things…the parts of your history that were painful, but filled in the parts of you that hadn’t made sense. Suddenly his space was your space, and you didn’t know where you ended and he began. He gave you his name, and you wore his ring. 

There was a day when you threw up teaching a class. And suddenly things changed. And He swung you around and around when you told him. And then you threw up again. That day you found out that everything you’d shared so far, didn’t even compare to the moment you knew that you were going to be parents. 

There was a time when each of them was placed in your arms. Where you saw their bright eyes blink, and their first yawn. And in those moments you had no idea what you were going to do, how on earth you would ever be good enough, but knew they were they most beautiful things you’d ever seen. And you got to be a part of their existence. 

There was a place where you held each other, legs wound tightly, crying until your chest hurt–holding your first daughter born sleeping. Where you placed your lips on feverish foreheads, and stared bleary eyed at each other over empty cups of coffee. When you only had six hours of sick leave left, and youngest was just diagnosed with pneumonia and another kidney infection. 

There was a space where you tried to balance work that you couldn’t leave there, and a house full of  little faces that kept changing…and still find time for each other. In the middle of all the penciled in schedules, there was never enough groceries but an excess of laundry and bills. And somedays you didn’t even get to hear the others voice.

There was a day when you realized that you had been together more than half your lives, that all your big and small memories ran together. And times could be so hard that you couldn’t remember the days where your heart beat fast and you’d held hands… and you felt too much distance at the table, in the conversations, and between you in bed. 

There was a time when it would have been easy to rationalize all the things that didn’t work, and yet all the important stuff you’d lived was together. Your memories were tangled and even though you knew all the ugly mess the other could bring, they were your person.  

There was a place in life where you traveled side by side, bound by vows, and children, and memories…but so much more. Little things like the way you interlocked your hands without thinking, or the way you both just knew how to make the other one laugh. Together you are Home.

There was a space where you found intimacy was watching your husband dry off your incision after a c section, and whispering with you at night as two child lay between you. Where you had laugh lines, and grey sprinkles across temples, and your children are taller than you but still asked you to pray with them at night…together. 

And you just knew. 

Any day, any time, any place, any space…I choose you. 

I choose this. 

I choose all of it. 

…to God be the glory. 
* photography by k Dimoff photography 

I remember years and years ago when the Teenager was in first grade and we went to his curriculum night at school. We were a classroom full of nervous parents- our knees banging underneath small desks, when the teacher said to us, “Your children are unique and special, and you may even find an extra layer of sensitivity in them. After all they are 9/11 babies.” 

And those words took my breath away. 

Because it was true. 

I was three weeks from my due date on 9/11. I couldn’t see my feet and I still didn’t feel like I was grown up enough to be someone’s Mother. That day every thing changed…it changed the course of our family. My husband decided to go into public service. And I became fearful of the country my unborn child was being born into, because it was my job to protect him. The intensity of what motherhood meant burned in my core. And I was terrified. My America had been attacked, all in the name of Evil. 

In the days and weeks after, I began to see the Flag waving everywhere I went. And as I became closer to my due date I was filled with gratitude for those who had served so valiantly in the face of this Evil. And suddenly singing the National Anthem brought more than me trying desperately to sound like Whitney Houston, but instead standing and filling my lungs with love for the country I get to call home. I would sing it to my newborn son as I rocked him, and cry. I haven’t sang the song since without getting choked up. 

My teenager is a Child of 9/11. He grew up in a time when terrorism started storming through our doors.  He has watched his cousins say goodbye to their Dad, his Uncle, twice for deployments as he has fought for our Country. 

My teenager is a Child of 9/11. He was aware when his Dad’s friend was killed on duty, as I sat in shock at a family gathering and dropped my cell phone. He is aware of the chasm in our nation, and fears for his Dad’s safety by a media that is tearing us a part.  

My teenager is a Child of 9/11. He is a sensitive soul, and feels everything in a cerebral introspective way. He went through things this past year that I thought would break him forever. And instead he has shown resilience and faith. He has shown mercy and forgiveness, and strength and maturity beyond his years. He’s shown Fight. And he’s shown Gratitude and Honor. 

Resilience and Faith…

Mercy and Forgiveness…

Strength and Maturity…

Fight…

Gratitude and Honor…

All of the beautiful things I love about my America- our America…are the things he lives everyday. 

And we need to see more of that. We need to stand and remember what we are fighting for…we are fighting for Eachother. All of us. We are fighting for Love of a Country, and the people who were lost that day in September. We are fighting for their families who still grieve, and for each one of us who grieves with them…as we pray and whisper “We remember…we remember…We Remember.” 

I remember.

And no it’s not perfect. But what family is?  But it’s all of our country. On 9/11 we all knew that…bonded by grief. Let’s be bonded by remembrance tomorrow*. Let’s be bonded by the beauty of this Land of the Free and our Home of the Brave. 

…and my Jonah who is a child of 9/11- he wants to do ROTC when he graduates. In his words “I want to serve and do more…” 

Gratitude and Honor. We need more of that. 

*other things you can do to remember 9/11, and change your life and honor your country…

Hang your American Flag tomorrow. 

Go to church and pray for the families grieving their loved ones who were killed on 9/11. Light a candle. Have a moment of silence. 

And hug your family tighter. Appreciate them longer. And love others. 

Sing the National Anthem. Stand for those who fought. 

God bless the USA. 

(Joyfulmysteries Note: I was pleased when the homily  at church touched on St Teresa today. It was what I started writing about this am.) 

Orare est laborare; laborare est orate. To pray is to work; to work is to pray. 

Today in Rome Mother Teresa was canonized a Saint. It’s not easy to be declared a Saint, there are certain hoops one has to jump through from Heaven…but no one ever doubted that she was. And today She was declared one. But She was a living breathing Saint in our midst as she served the poorest of the poor in India, as a missionary of Charity, the Order she founded. She had already been a nun she’d had a vision about the ministry of service she was called to build. 

My husband was slated to become a Missionary of Charity Father. He lived with a group of her sisters and served people with AIDS at a hospice they ran in downtown Denver. I flew there and volunteered with him for a week. I was discerning becoming a Nun. I had narrowed it down to the Carmelites and the Sisters of Providence, and was leaning towards the former. But I had also felt called to see him and serve with him, the boy who I saw and thought instantly “I’m going to marry him.”  I didn’t take discernment lightly. That trip was a turning point in my decision making as I realized God was pointing me in a different life path. 

It was beautiful but also terrifying, because I was afraid it would hurt the security I had gained in my faith. 

What is funny now is that people who knew me back then- were convinced I would marry someone because I loved everything about a good love story, and all the feelings of infatuation.  But I also was intensely turned off by the worldly influence in relationships. They had seemed so self serving, so when I was nearing the end of my Junior year in High School I was being drawn away from marriage, and I shifted my feelings on a vocation to become a Nun.

I only told two people of my decision…my friend, the Bishop of Yakima, Francis George(who our Daniel is named after), and a Nun who I met with weekly at the Hospital by my high school. I didn’t tell my youth leaders, or friends, but I’m sure my parents saw the shift. I started going to church daily, and craved the intimacy I realized that God had been calling me in to. 

One of my pet peeves is when single friends have joked they should become a nun, because of celibacy…because while that may be the world’s perceived notion of what a nun is, it’s one very small part and it’s not what the vocation is about. It’s about choosing to serve God in such a way that your entire life is being in prayer and service to others through Him. It is one of the most beautiful calls in the world. And for a while I believed it was my calling- and I was honored. 

I craved being in communion with Christ. (Galatians 2:20) 

I thirsted for Him. 

So I was thrown for a loop when twice in the week with the missionaries of Charity, a Priest and a Sister told me I was going to marry Dyp. And then one night while watching him serve dinner to a man deathly ill with AIDS, I knew I was meant to serve God next to him for the rest of my life. 

6 months later, He left the Fathers in Mexico knowing he was being called to Me. 

Both of us were changed, by the simple mission of a small woman in India, who people called Mother, who served the poorest of the poor, the orphaned, and the dying…who had a call with in a call. 

As a couple we have told our children about Saints, and how they spend their time in heaven praying for us, and relishing in the presence of God.  But on earth they served God and people, sinful and flawed and yet with such Faith. We pray they are open to discerning their vocation to serve God where He’s calling them, and we want them to thirst for Him.

One of our sons has longed to be a priest since he was 5. It has now been 7 years that he has felt this calling.  Our son named after the Priest, who became a Bishop, who became a Cardinal, who was my friend. God may change Daniel’s call someday, he would be an amazing husband and dad…but either way, He already longs to serve God. He dreams about it. He even says he would like to be called Fr. Francis, after his namesake.

God is good.

And  yet. And yet…

I have been burdened by the lack of people in the pews at church the past year.* I have wondered why people have left. What is lacking? 

Saint Teresa of Calcutta fed 9,000 people every day in her home. 

I can barely put a dinner together. I struggle with the day to day tasks. I feel like I’m failing a good chunk of the time. 

Saint Teresa held dying children everyday to her chest. 

I become impatient and snappy especially at bedtime, when all they want is to be held.

She served the poorest of the poor. 

I have a hard time making eye contact with the men who hold signs on the street…I always say a prayer, but I am scared of them. I am ashamed of this.(John 15:12) 

Many of these people she served didn’t know God or believe in God, but she still loved them. 

I have become so disheartened with the attacks on everything I believe in this past year, that I haven’t wanted to love. I have carried hate in my heart because of hurt. 

Today I read pages and pages of what kept Saint Teresa resolute in her love and service…and it was so simple.

Because she was called to it by God. Only God. Always God.

Tonight as I sat in church, they sang Amazing Grace, my favorite song since I was a little girl. I cried. I feel like I am falling short in my vocation as a wife and a mother. 

I was called to do this by God, a call with in a call, a call to serve Him, while serving   My family. 

And all I could think to do was pray. So I prayed. I prayed for the work God has done, and the work I know He will continue to do. Because maybe people will remember me someday as the person who prayed for, and with them. Or maybe as the person who loved them. But I hope they also know how much I love Him. 

Who called me first to Him. To love. To Serve. 

 I thirst for my God. (Isaiah 43:1-4; 49:15-16) 

 I’m thankful for the holy people that I met along the way, who inspired and loved me enough to show me God by their example and their service of Him. I’m so thankful for the life of St. Teresa of Calcutta, her mark on the world is still changing lives…all in the name of the God she served. All in the name of Love. 

“Love has a hem to her garment that reaches the very dust. It sweeps the stains from the streets and lanes, and because it can, it must.” -Saint Teresa of Calcutta 
*if you ever want to go to church with our family– let me know, we’d love for you to come. And if you have any questions about our faith I’d love to answer them. And I will always pray for you. To God be the Glory. 

Everything I’ve ever needed to know I’ve learned from my Mother…

Everyone is good at something. Find what you’re good at and allow yourself to flourish. 

Birthdays don’t need to be limited to one day. 

When singing, don’t be afraid to find the harmony. 

There are mean people in this world, and you don’t have to be friends with them. 

Mints are a wonderful tool to use when watching your children’s sports, so you don’t yell…too much.

Popcorn is a comfort food.

It’s never too late to change and grow. 

You can’t spoil a newborn. 

Use creativity in every part of your life.

We should all have one look that can say a million insults, without speaking a word. 

Treat children to know their value, and To never doubt it. 

Trust your spidey sense, if a situation feels wrong it usually is. 

Don’t ever just sit and watch, always ask “What can I do?” 

Show up. 

Almost everything can be solved with a brisk nighttime walk and prayer. 

You are never too old to dress up. 

Honor your Mother and Father.

Forgive your Mother and Father.

Remember the stories of your life, and tell them to your children and grandchildren. 

Play an instrument. 

Wear your retainer! 

Grades are never an indication of success- your integrity and heart is.

When you drink coffee, take your time. 

Always take quiet time.

Laughter is the best medicine. 

Give memories, not presents. Give presence over anything else.

Crying is a good for the soul. 

Let your children mess up. It hurts you more than it hurts them.

The smell of chocolate chip cookies* will sell your house. But you will always burn the first batch.

Kids should be encouraged to feel joy, and reflect on the tough stuff- all feelings count. 

The Rosary is a beautiful gift to pass on, and teaching our children to pray for others is one of the best gifts we can give them. 

Gratitude is never overrated. 

It’s okay to be mad at God, He can handle it. 

Helping someone with their laundry,or cleaning their bathroom or kitchen, is one of the best things you can do for them. 

Serve the poor, serve the poor, serve the poor. 

Live your Faith. 

Forgive yourself.  

Make sure you have a unique clap so that your kids and grandkids can imitate it for years to come. 

If you cry when you are upset or angry,  it doesn’t make you weak, it means you are passionate enough to feel it in every part of your body. 

When your daughter says “Let’s get pedicures!” On Mothers Day, and takes you instead to get your noses pierced – Do it. 

Never turn down red hots. 

Always write a letter to “the powers that be” when you’re pissed off, even if you don’t plan to send it. 

There is always a good time to throw “shit” in a sentence. 

Stick up for your kids. Advocate for them, and teach them how to advocate for themselves.

Always carry Benedryl. 

Get the giggles. Don’t take yourself too seriously. 

Be in photos. 

And pass on your face to one of your granddaughters. 

Say I love you, often, without condition. 

Be open to beauty in chaos.

Make each of your grandchildren know they are your favorite. 

Be the person your daughters long to emulate. 

Teach Love.

Acknowledge each day as a gift…each day is a gift. 

And always give God the glory. 

Happy Birthday Mom. I love you so so much. 

*”and make the best no bakes ever for your son in law…” -from your son in law. 

Recently I asked the teenager if he ever thought about leaving behind Our Faith, and what I consider to be the most central part of our Family. 

Because I’d been thinking…

I am in touch with many lifelong friends who were raised in Christian houses, and now as adults have left the Faith. (Ps. This isn’t a post about why I am still a strong faithful Catholic Christian- I’ll save that for another day) Some of these friends have renounced any Faith. And some of these friends, still go to church once, maybe twice a year, but Sunday is a day they now sleep in. 

And now their faith is investing in their families, their lifestyles, their education, their careers, their kids sports…etc. These all are good things, but many of them seem to be searching. They aren’t contented after vacation, or a big promotion…

And it makes me think of my kids. 

My beautiful kids. 

It’s really got me thinking. 

So I asked my teenager outright. All the questions that had been plaguing me as I prayed at night outside of each of their bedrooms.

…Does he think of leaving his Faith eventually when he’s older? Does He think it will be a priority to his life?  Do we force it on him? Do we listen when they have questions? Do we let them question? 

And let’s be honest- if there’s one thing I’ve realized about having a teenager is they are either gonna talk or they won’t…it’s either one word answers or they just let it all go, and answer you and may even tell you a bunch of unrelated random facts…usually about Taco Bell . There’s no in between. And I never know which one I’m gonna get because they’ve gotta lot of thoughts and stuff going on. But I’m not a patient person when something is on my heart, and we were in the car alone so I just blurted is all out. 

And my Jonah looked at me, and said one of the most beautiful things he could say, “*Mom, you and Dad have never forced your faith on us, you just introduced us to it. God does the rest. And no, I will never walk away because it’s a part of who I am.” 

And then I started crying. Because I’m a crier. And because I was relieved…

Not because I tiptoe around my kids with my faith and give them wishy washy feel good theology. Because we don’t. Living your Faith isn’t a Cake-walk. Trusting God when life is devastating and hard is not easy. 

We go to Church every Sunday, even on vacation. We pray together and we expect them to treat one another with kindness. We expect them to forgive one another. My kids aren’t lucky, they are blessed and I want them to know that. 

I expect them to help the person with less, to stick up for people, to honor others. And to love. 

And this past year…has been hard. Between friends, and mean people, and the world we have all been hurt. So love is hard. And forgiveness is even harder.

And I desperately want them to choose their Faith in every single circumstance. Because it will save them. Every single time. 

He will save them. 

Time and time again He has saved me. 

I can invest time in my kids, and my marriage. I can invest time in my career and my writing…but without God I will be searching in the temporary. 

I want more for my kids than that. 

I want them to have forever.

Our Faith in God is the center of our family. And on the good, and hard days I choose to live it out the only way I know how…by introducing them to God every single day. Inviting Him into our lives. 

And Jonah was right…

God does the rest. 

to God be the Glory. 

*i may have missed some of Jonah’s exact quote from earlier, though the introducing part was exact. I also could add I wanted to write that he also said I was the most beautiful Mom in the world but lying is a sin. Even though it is my blog and creative license is my jam- but whatever, I left it out…this time.