Sister Update

Very excited to report that all three of the novices I featured on my blog have raised enough money to pay off their student loans and will be entering the convent this Tuesday. Hurrah!

These Sisters need our prayers!

Prayer Request

One of my favorite prayer buddies is newly pregnant after having serious complications with her last child. Whatever difficult task you are doing today, could you offer it up for the safety of her sweet newbie?

Our Lady of Mount Carmel, pray for us!

Following the Quiet Movements of the Holy Spirit

I went to a church meeting last night. A woman that I'm just starting a friendship with told me "Abby, you hugged me after Mass last Wednesday and I really needed that hug!"

I didn't even remember doing it.

Turns out that earlier that day (on the Feast of the Assumption) she had a difficult run in with an extended family member. She didn't think she could make Mass that night because she was crying so hard all day. She went to church at 7 PM, and cried all through Mass.

As she walked out of church, she walked into a giant hug from me!

(I was in the back of church because Miss Tess was a handful at 7 PM).

You never, ever know what He is going to use from you. The smallest word, the smallest smile, the sweetest hug. When you pray, He uses you to write a love letter to the world. Most of the time, we don't see the result of our "perfect timing" because it would hurt our humility. Sometimes I feel like He "tips His hand" to let me know--see this prayer stuff is working! Keep loving me more, and I'll help you help them.

On Being a Servant For God

Oh my goodness! I think Tuesday was the hardest day in my life, and that is saying something because I've already been pregnant for five times!

8PM on Sunday I got this news that totally freaked me out. I spent the entire night awake with my mind racing. Earlier in the weekend, I had a small exposure to poison ivy (I wiped my eyelid while weeding the garden and forgot to wash that part well afterwards with Dial soap). I think it was from my mental stress, but by 3 AM on Monday night my entire eye had swollen shut.

I woke up on Tuesday and looked awful. I didn't even know if it was safe for me to drive with one eye to Target to buy Benedryll. Finally, my right eye opened up a small crack.

If you can picture me with the entire right side of my face red and swollen, with my eye--this giant blob--shopping for medicine with five kids, trying not to die from social phobia--that was me. Vanity is a sucky sin, thanks for working on that with me, Mr. Jesus!

I waited all day for my husband to come home at 6:05 to relieve me. Turns out that he had a suckier day than me. How is that even possible? It is.

I decided that since we are "one flesh" my freakish 96 hours after exposure poison ivy break out was really my body reacting sympathetically to his stress.

Wednesday was super, duper hard.

This Thursday, I had a task to do for Sallie Mae.

Have you met my friend, Sallie? She probably owns the student loans for you, your spouse or someone you love. She's "rawther" demanding, and has all sorts of forms with complicated directions written in small print.

I got to the post office and realized that I'd forgotten to bring one piece of paperwork for my friend Sallie. So I loaded up 5 horribly upset children into my van and drove back to my house. I think I was in the middle of hearing a long litany about how I am the worse Mother in the world when I saw her....

Yasra

The Iraqi immigrant mother who Sister Mary Ann profiled in our Catholic Charities August newsletter.

She was walking her three year old down my street.

So like the crazy Servant I am, I waved. Then I parked my car and jumped out to greet her. She was very, very kind. I told her that "I have four daughters and one son". She laughed and said "we have five daughters and no sons." I drove off with a light feeling in my house and resolved to invite her to dinner at my house soon.

I hate being a Servant of God when it means that I have itchy, red splotches of poison ivy on my face, or have to console sobbing toddlers in the post office, but I love it when I get to greet someone in person that I've prayed for from afar. Our God is good. He uses long, boring, post office errands to promote the good of his Holy Kingdom.

An African Woman's Open Letter to Melinda Gates

by Obianuju Ekeocha


Growing up in a remote town in Africa, I have always known that a new life is welcomed with much mirth and joy. In fact we have a special "clarion" call (or song) in our village reserved for births and another special one for marriages. 


The first day of every baby's life is celebrated by the entire village with dancing (real dancing!) and clapping and singing - a sort of "Gloria in excelsis Deo." 

All I can say with certainty is that we, as a society, LOVE and welcome babies. 

With all the challenges and difficulties of Africa, people complain and lament their problems openly. I have grown up in this environment and I have heard women (just as much as men) complain about all sorts of things. But I have NEVER heard a woman complain about her baby (born or unborn). 

Even with substandard medical care in most places, women are valiant in pregnancy. And once the baby arrives, they gracefully and heroically rise into the maternal mode. 

I trained and worked for almost five years in a medical setting in Africa, yet I never heard of the clinical term "postpartum depression" until I came to live in Europe. I never heard it because I never experienced or witnessed it, even with the relatively high birth rate around me. (I would estimate that I had at least one family member or close friend give birth every single month. So I saw at least 12 babies born in my life every year.)  

Amidst all our African afflictions and difficulties, amidst all the socioeconomic and political instabilities, our babies are always a firm symbol of hope, a promise of life, a reason to strive for the legacy of a bright future. 

So a few weeks ago I stumbled upon the plan and promise of Melinda Gates to implant the seeds of her "legacy" in 69 of the poorest countries in the world (most of which are in Sub-Saharan Africa). 

Her pledge is to collect pledges for almost $5 billion in order to ensure that the African woman is less fertile, less encumbered and, yes, she says, more "liberated." With her incredible wealth she wants to replace the legacy of an African woman (http://www.catholic.org/national/national_story.php?id=47264&page=2which is her child with the legacy of "child-free sex."  

Many of the 69 targeted countries are Catholic countries with millions of Catholic women of child-bearing age.  These Catholic women have been rightly taught by the Church that the contraceptive drug and device is inherently divisive.

Unlike what we see in the developed Western world, there is actually very high compliance with Pope Paul VI's "Humanae Vitae." For these African women, in all humility, have heard, understood and accepted the precious words of the prophetic pope. Funny how people with a much lower literacy level could clearly understand that which the average Vogue- and Cosmo-reading-high-class woman has refused to understand. I guess humility makes all the difference.

With most African women faithfully practicing and adhering to a faith (mainly Christian or in some cases Muslim), there is a high regard for sex in society, especially among the women. Sex is sacred and private.

The moment these huge amounts of contraceptive drugs and devices are injected into the roots of our society, they will undoubtedly start to erode and poison the moral sexual ethics that have been woven into our societal DNA by our faith, not unlike the erosion that befell the Western world after the 1930 Lambeth conference!  In one fell swoop and one "clean" slice, the faithful could be severed from their professed faith. 

Both the frontline healthcare worker dispensing Melinda's legacy gift and the women ....

read more here.

Spiritual Help for Homeschooling

Last week we started year four of home-schooling. This is the letter I wish I had read as a new teacher.

Dear New Home-Schooling Mothers and Fathers,

You're here. Sort of. Congratulations. You are in a Holy Spot. Take off your shoes and pray for a while.

If you're feeling certain about your educational philosophy and school year goals, relax. You'll be feeling uncertain in a few short weeks. If you're trembling with uncertainty, relax as well. There is confirmation on the path of God's will. You'll soon see little sign and signals that nudge you and your child in the direction God wants to lead them.

Home-schooling is spiritually scary.

We don't talk about that enough. Instead there are thousands of thousands of websites, and lists and curriculum. Each author basically promises you "buy my teaching method so you won't be scared."

Beware of false promises.

There are no guarantees in life.

Whether you teach Singapore Math, or Miquon, or Math -U-See. Your kid could still end up hating math, failing to balance their checkbook in twenty years, and blaming you.

Your kid might end up learning "nothing". Hating Mass. Hating you. Home-schooling is not a vaccination against all the challenges of childhood.

Homeschooling is not about you, what subjects you feel comfortable teaching or what level of stress you think you can or can not handle. Homeschooling is also not always about what your kid does or does not feel like doing in the moment.

Homeschooling is about HIM.

If He's telling your heart in a quiet whisper that some or all of your children will learn better with a handcrafted education from you, rather than at a parish school or public school--believe Him.

He is trustworthy! He knows your kids better than you do. He knows you better than you do. He wants your children to learn and be on fire with their faith.

(In contrast, if He is giving you the quiet confidence that your children do belong in a parish or public school classroom, listen to Him. Do what ever He tells you to do. Don't worry about justifying yourself to the rest of the clattering homeschool community).

Make your homeschool journey a time of spiritual growth. Have a prayerful heart. Work at serving Him joyfully with the happy child, and the stubborn child, and the bored "why do we have to do this child." Don't be embarrassed when you fall down. If your stretching you and your child right, you will fail. Fail, often. Be foolish.

Love always protects,
always trusts,
always hopes,
always perseveres.

Home-schooling is just love in service from 8 AM to 3 PM for older kids on weekdays.

Your friend and prayer partner,

Abigail Benjamin

God Loves You More

I had an intense envy attack while reading Facebook this week.

My second-cousin has a newborn son, her third. She wrote "After 55 days of help, today was my first day alone with the boys".

I almost fell off my bed. She had 55 DAYS of help after childbirth?

I posted something bitter.

Then I deleted it.

Hours later.

I confessed to my husband that night about my feelings of envy.

He said something to the effect of "some women have that, what's the big deal?"

Tears sprang to my eyes. "The big deal is that this isn't some stranger. This is someone in MY family". The only difference between my cousin and me, is that her branch of the family tree kept their Christian faith. Mine lost it. She had a mother, and sisters and probably in-laws, that were joyous and helpful after her son's birth. I didn't.

I'm alone.

My husband, and fellow Carmelite, looked at me and said.....

"God loves you more!"

I think I laughed sarcastically. He said "No really, your cousin is going to have a wonderful life and a wonderful reward in heaven. She's from good Christian stock and she's going to raise good Christian boys. But you--you are on the frontier. You are on the front-line of this war. You are a Special Operative. You have a totally different assignment, you're fighting behind enemy lines. God gave you the much harder assignment, because God loves you more."

Prayer Help for the Unwelcome Welcome

This is the sign at my local County Courthouse.

A little chilly, no?

The sign is posted in two places in the small hall waiting area, and (as the bailiff told me) "in each and every courtroom."

I read that sign and shrunk down a few inches. I was only in the Courthouse to get a copy of my official property map.

I can't image sitting on a bench, waiting for an Eviction hearing, distracted for a moment about my possible future homelessness--and having a chilly bailiff point to that sign out to me and say

"Humpf! We expect you to exercise control over your child's behavior!"

All because my child was (to use an exact quote from my discussion with my local Clerk of Court yesterday) "climbing up the stairs."

That sign has bothered me for a month. Yesterday, on my Mommy's feast day, I went to the County Courthouse. I parked my four children ages 9 to 2 on a wooden bench under that sign. With my youngest girl in her Bijorn on my chest, I asked the bailiff to please take down the sign. He said no.

I often him a replacement sign that I handmade with kinder language (Unattended Children will be given a puppy and a cup of coffee). The bailiff said "My boss wants it that way."

So I went to talk to his boss--the Clerk of Court.

He said "NO!"

I said "Well, where do I take this matter from here?"

He said "No where!" Then he gave me a look that said "Who do you think you are???????"

I must have looked like a sight. A girl with wet curly hair in a banana clip, a blue cotton dress, and  my husband's oversized black flip-flops with a red faced baby strapped to my chest...but....

I know who I am!

A Beloved Daughter of Mary.
A Catholic mother of five who is sticking up for the Baby Jesus.

My local Clerk of Court may choose to post a sign in the waiting area that says "QUIET, Court is in Session". He does not have the right to single out children. He does not have the right to be rude to mothers and fathers.

So I pulled myself up straight, gave him a quick nod of the head and said "You will be receiving a letter from me about this matter soon, Sir."

Then I walked out out of his office with my cheeks blushing.

Now, I am coming to you, gentle readers. Please pray! My Clerk of Court has a last name that starts with "S" and his bailiff first name starts with "L". Ask the Lord to remove the rude sign and soften their hearts towards all children in general.

Help With A Different Kind of Bridal Shower, Part II

Hurrah! Miss Amanda prayed to Our Blessed Mother and raised the entire amount to pay off her student loan debt. She can now enter the Dominican Order on August 28th! Yippee!

There are two more wonderful women that would like to join her novice class. Meet Sophia (who needs $2,105 by August 28) and and Caitlin (who needs $6,000) Please go to either website and donate $1, or $5 or $10. 

These faithful ladies need prayers and encouraging blog comments. Giving up everything to follow the Lord is scary stuff--they need us to be spiritual cheerleaders!

Be like out Blessed Mother--nourish the spiritual life of someone precious.

Update: The Holy Spirit is advocating for these women! Found almost the same post over at Shoved To Them--posted 12 hours earlier. Please help!

Happy Feast of the Assumption

So hard waiting for my husband to come home to do 7 PM Mass together. It was 9 AM, and then 12 PM, and I kept telling the kids "you sure you don't want to go to Mass twice today?"

Mama's such a Mary lover!

My favorite sight

The Franciscan Monesary has acres and acres  of the most beautiful spiritual gardens imaginable. My favorite part was the private garden with a pink flamingo. Those monks have such a sense of humor!

Monestary Cloister Garden

 

The Dining Room

The priest who sat next to us, is the confessor for the "Little Sisters of the Poor".

All things work together for those that love God...

We had our hands full at the 800th Celebration for the Poor Clares. While we were getting food for our five kids, someone stole our seats. I didn't even know what to do. It was so crowded, and I had grumpy babies who needed to eat.Then the cater said "there are tables in here". She ushed us into the private dining room of the Franciscan Brothers. We ended up getting to eat with Monks and made friends for life! Here's Maria and Tess dancing in front of the Last Supper painting by the Monk's soda machine.

My husband's new friend, Brother John of God (Franciscan)

Had to laugh, I just finished teaching one week of intense Vacation Bible School on the rosary, but it was a 30 second comment from my husband's new friend, Brother John of God, that got us finally praying the rosary together as a family. Those Franciscan brothers are powerful friends!

A Real "Power Player" In Washington D.C.

Hanging out with the Poor Clares of Perpetual Adoration in Washington D.C. on their 800 celebration of the founding of their order at the Franciscian Monastery. These Sisters came from Cleveland, Ohio in the 1960s to pray Daily for our Federal Government. Their prayers keep our country going. During the homily their confessor urged us parents to support vocations to this order because "in Washington D.C.-a city obsessed with power, these women have access to the true source of power, a intimate relationship with our Lord,  Jesus Christ!" Amen!

(These Sisters prayed for Teresa to heal during her stay at Children's National Hospital and for Abigail Clare to have a safe delivery. Because they are cloistered, we had never met them until today). 

 

Poor Clares Celebrating Their 800th Anniversary

 

Abigail Clare on her first Feast Day

 

Turning to Say Thank You

This is one of the sickest pre-cylampsia premie babies that I've ever prayed for. (Among the NICU set, there is a special gasp of fear if the baby and Mama qualify for an emergency helicopter ride as opposed to a regular ambulance ride). Now she's a healthy 10 pounds, at home, and looking darling. Thank you, Jesus!