They Are People

I’ve served the homeless population in the past, but had never felt such a familial connection to our homeless brothers and sisters until I sat down and started interviewing them to write the article, “We are People,” which was published in The Catholic Miscellany (click here to read it.)

Hearing their stories in their own words and from their own voices was eye opening and sometimes heart wrenching. I found that some were timid to share, while others were proud to explain every detail, happy to have a listening ear.

This is their life story. It’s their “lore”, if you will. For many of them it’s all they have. I repeat: for many of them it’s all they have.

They cling to their stories like a battleworn soldier might cherish scars that remind them of battles fought and survived by however slim a margin. There is so much trauma interwoven in their stories. There is so much physical and emotional damage piled in there, along with shame, embarrassment, abandonment, fear and lonliness that one hot meal isn’t going to unravel it all and make it better.

It takes time and patience, love and healing, detoxification - not only from the self medicating they may have turned to to silence the voices of their past, but also from the lifestyles and living situations in which they had found themselves trying to survive. I wouldn’t wish that daunting task on anyone. Why can’t we be more patient with these fellow human beings who carry the weight of the world on their very broken shoulders? They don’t have the support systems that many of us have to pull us through our rough patches. For whatever reason they are on their own in a world that doesn’t want to understand them better.

It’s much easier to ignore them, drive past them, not engage. God didn’t create us to treat our brothers and sisters that way. We need to do better. Rather than pushing this topic around so it’s someone else’s problem how about we accept the fact that it’s our problem. It’s a human family problem. We need more rehabilitations facilities to help people get off the street for good rather than for a night. How can we make that happen? If we’re not a part of the solution, we’re just a part of the problem. Lord, have mercy on us all.

Here are the lyrics to a song I wrote while in the midst of interviewing people for the article:

What is Your Story

”What is your story?
How did you get here?
What can I do to help you through
And calm some of your fear?
You are my brother
There’s no judgement between us
I’m just trying to reach out to you the way I was taught to by Jesus

It’s time to lay your burden down
Put your feet on solid ground
And let me love you

What is your story?
How did you get here?
What can I do to help you through
And calm some of your fear?
You are my sister
There’s no judgement between us
I’m just trying to reach out to you the way I was taught to by Jesus

It’s time to lay your burden down
Put your feet on solid ground
And let me love you

Lord, help me!
Everybody deserves to have a place to rest in safety
Everybody deserves to have a chance to feel you near
Give us the strength to share your courage and your mercy
Help us to welcome all your children into our care
So they can know even in their darkness you are there

What’s your story?
How did you get here?
What can I do to help you through and calm some of your fear?
I am your sister
There’s no judgement between us
I’m just trying to reach out to you the way I was taught to by Jesus

It’s time to lay your burden down
And rest your feet on solid ground
And let Him love you”

The Long Answer

Them: How are you?

Me: To be honest, I’ve had nine children grow in my womb. Eight of them I carried to term and delivered into the world, one I lost tragically along the way, but ALL of them forever changed me to my core.

I carry a bit of their DNA inside me. They are all a part of my person. It doesn’t matter where I go or what I do, they are always with me because they are a part of me. It doesn’t matter where they go or what they do, they are always with me because they are a part of me, as much as my bones, or my heart or my soul are a part of me.

I may think differently than others or act differently than others, or even love differently than others, but that is to be expected. Cell by cell, synapse by synapse I am different from others. Humans are such complex creatures and if I may be so bold, and if you will please indulge me this thought, even more so are mothers. Every thought, every whim, every impulse, every feeling is inextricably intertwined with the deep and expansive family genome of cells floating around in my being. I am no longer just me.

I am deep, fractured, and multi dimensional. I am a vessel so stretched and cracked, bruised and scarred, and yet by the grace of God still able to hold so much. I know it is my vocation to spread the love of Christ in the world, and over many years of ministry have grown to understand that brings assaults of all kind from the evil one. I’m not suggesting that other humans do not experience this, but one thing I know for sure is that ALL mothers do.

Forgive me if I seem a bit distant or out of sorts at times. I may be somewhere in the vast cosmos of my being repairing, rebuilding and preparing to go back out there and live another day trying to shine His light on my family and others.

So, How am I? I’m fine, thanks. You?

I will continue to pray for you. Please pray for me.

Not to burst your bubble, but......

We all have our protective bubbles in which we raise our children.

These bubbles protect us and them from the onslaught of toxic physical, emotional, theological and judgmental insults from the world while we try to raise decent little human beings.

Our family’s bubble is made up of our values, our beliefs, our preferences and comforts.

It is a nice safe place to raise our children while they’re little. It’s worthwhile and effective. As they get older, it begins to stretch and change shape as the children grow and question, and test. At this stage it is still possible to reinforce the bubble and keep it strong. The older ones eventually reach the ceiling of the bubble and continue to test it, pushing and stretching as they go. The little ones coming up no longer have the closeness of the protective bubble around them, but it’s still there, albeit altered slightly from the stretching.

One day, however the inevitable happens. One of the kids breaks through the bubble. The whole family’s safety zone is altered. The bubble’s structure eventually collapses, and the remnants fall all around us to the ground. It becomes harder and harder to keep a protective barrier up between our children and the insanity of the world outside. Even harder still to shield the younger ones from the newly acquired thoughts and ideas of the older ones. This is when we are forced to move outside our own comfort bubbles and start answering the hard questions about what made up our bubble in the first place. The bubble served its purpose, no doubt, and protected our offspring as long as it could, but at some point, in most family’s lives, the bubble dissolves, pops or collapses and we can only hope that the remnants have soaked deeply into the soil from which our older and “wiser” family can grow.

This can be a sad and frightening time for a parent. We may think that all our hard work was for naught, and nothing we tried to instill in them will be there anymore, but that is not true. The remnants of our protective bubble become the foundation, and the foundation we laid is never gone completely. New things will be built upon it, and it may look a little different and sound a little different from what we put there in the first place, but if we filled that bubble with some nuggets of truth and goodness and love, it will still be there. It will take on its own form in the children we raised.  

 I have learned the hard way that as much as we may long for the days of our little ones tucked safely and securely inside our bubble, it can’t last forever in the real, big, grown-up world, so adapt and adjust we must. I will not ever give up on my beliefs and values nor will I give up on trying to instill them in my children, and hopefully someday my grandchildren, but it’s no longer my place to build a bubble for them. It is now my place to replenish, restore, and love. I hope they can always come to me for the comfort of that safe place, bubble or not.

INTO THE DEEP OF LENT

There are many kinds of swimmers.

There are the plungers, who run full steam toward the body of water and just fling themselves in, knowing there may be an initial shock, brain freeze, or temporary paralysis – but trusting that once the shock has subsided, they will already be in the water and can adjust accordingly.

There are the bouncers, who pogo their way in, forcing the body to accept the temperature of the water a little at a time, while bouncing toward the deep end, eventually succumbing to the full body dunk when they can no longer bounce their head above water.

There are the waders who slowly wander their way in, gracefully, taking their time to adjust as they go until they are eventually swimming laps around the pool comfortably.

I have learned over the years that when it comes to Lent, no matter the temperament or personality of the person – everyone seems to think they need to be the plunger. Ready to start every program, follow every protocol,

make every change, offer up every temptation, attend every mission headfirst on Ash Wednesday. As if it were the edge of a pool, and it’s all or nothing from that moment on for 40 straight days.

I would like to offer a better way to get there. Just like we can ease our way into the pool, which, by the way, is my preferred method, we can ease into the deep of Lent. God gives us 40 days for a reason. So, we can deliberately reach the goal of total submersion on our own time and in our own way. Jesus had 33 years to prepare himself for His Passion. We can at least give ourselves 33 whole days to prepare ourselves. The goal as I see it is to get “there” by Holy Week. This can be accomplished a little at a time.

We must free ourselves from our scattered lifestyles and find some peace. Lent is a great time to accomplish so much more important work inwardly by doing less frivolous or unimportant work outwardly. Dial it all back a bit. Cut out unnecessary running around. This is a time for building, not depleting our spiritual resources. Increase your quiet time of prayer and meditation, read a bit of scripture each day, even if it’s just focusing seriously on the daily readings for the first time in a while. This is your journey to be with God in a new way. It doesn’t have to be according to someone else’s plan.

Choose blocks of time each day when the phone is out of reach. Be present in the moment. Be present if God decides to share something with you. Turn off the car radio when you’re driving alone and drive in silence. (Best advice a young priest gave me when I had my first few children and was overwhelmed) It’s an amazing time to just “be”. When you eat, ask yourself, “Is this building up my body or tearing it down?” Same thing with conversations with friends. Are we building up or tearing down? I think Lent can be a wonderful reset. A reminder that Our God is always there. We may have dark times when we can’t feel him or hear him, but sometimes we can’t hear him because we surround ourselves with so much noise he can’t get through.

This is a period of spiritual housekeeping. In my temple of the Holy Spirit, it’s time to clean out the closets and under the rugs and even the garage where I keep the things I don’t want to think about. I will bring it all to God through prayer and eventually confession – the mighty dumpster for spiritual housekeeping. If you have a lot to dump, cross state lines if you must and go to confession where no one knows you. You will be amazed by how incredible you feel once you’ve relieved yourself of so much unwanted extra baggage.

Purify, simplify, sanctify. Those are my areas of focus this lent. Come on in! The water’s fine! I’m here if you need a companion on the journey. God Bless you and keep you.

Laura

Did I miss the memo?

Did I miss the memo?

Since when are Christians afraid of suffering? Illness? Even death?

I feel like we have been slipping into the twilight zone over the past five months, where all of the sudden people who used to be pictures of health are now afraid of disease. People who used to lift people up are now tearing others down. People who used to be pillars in their faith communities, are now afraid of people. People who used to live on fire with their faith, are now lukewarm at best. Church leaders and community leaders who used to lead with courage have started becoming infected by the fear around them, and some have stopped leading all together.

Did I miss something?

Since when are Christians afraid of suffering? Illness? Even death?

None of us know how many days we have on this earth to do good. Should we not be reaching out to our neighbors for fear of illness? Should we not go to our church to pray for fear of what might be lurking there? Should we not go to comfort a friend in need because hugging them might pass a germ between us? What have we become? Please, let’s come to our senses and remember what we were created to be. We are warriors! We who are able, can keep our bodies and our minds strong by the grace of God. We can go out there and be lights in the darkness. We can be lighthouses anchored in bedrock to provide security for the weary travelers. We can lower our mask and smile at a child in a store because they are confused with the way people look these days. We can still help the elderly person load groceries into their car at the store without contaminating them. Humans need to know that other humans care. If doing this means taking risks, sign me up! I report for duty every day trusting that God knows what’s going on. I will not be asked at the end of my life “why were you hiding with your candle when so many were afraid in the dark?” Lord help me and to be strong in the midst of this storm.

Here’s a new memo:

For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love and self-discipline! (2Tim1:7)

Advent is about waiting!

Sorry, the day after Halloween is not the beginning of the Christmas season. Not even close. Neither is the day after Thanksgiving!

The official waiting for Christmas season, Advent, didn’t even start until December first, and here we are only 15 days away from Christmas season actually starting. Yes, I said it. CHRISTMAS SEASON DOESN’T EVEN START UNTIL CHRISTMAS DAY!!!!!!!

That’s right. The twelve days of Christmas start on Christmas day. The celebration of the birth of Christ starts on the day of his birth. Not before.

You know what did start on December 1st though? The waiting for our Savior’s birth. The preparation for Our Savior’s birth. The anticipation!! Advent for us started on December 1st. We only have a little over three weeks to prepare each year. I mean, we really have the whole year, but we really don’t focus on it until Advent. How spoiled we are.

The original Advent started with Adam and Eve. Their disobedience to God in the Garden of Eden. God had to come in, correct and redirect. He promised a Savior would come and BAM! The first Advent began. Theirs (the advent of our ancestors) lasted thousands of years. They waited for that Savior forever!! and we can’t wait patiently for his arrival for a few weeks? pathetic. We humans are so impatient. We have to jump the gun.

I like to go back to pondering the original Advent. The thousand year advent, to get my mind in the right place. You know, God could have said “what the heck? this human thing seemed like a good idea, but right out of the box, what do they do? They listen to the enemy and not me. That’s it. I’m done.”

Thank God he didn’t give up on us that soon. He sent prophet after prophet, (prophetess after prophetess), to try and set us straight, and every time He figured it was time, there we go messing it up again. Look at the list of amazing prophets He sent. The list I made counted up to 57 or more prophets He sent to set us on the right path, and did we listen? no. I’m willing to bet you dollars to donuts He would have sent his Savior sooner if we hadn’t kept messing it up.

How many pregnant women in those centuries leading up to the birth of the Messiah, when pregnant, wondered if they might be carrying the Savior? None of them knew when it would happen.

You know, when I moved to the south over a dozen or so years ago, I was told by a local, “If the service guy says he’s coming on Tuesday, ask him which Tuesday” Those words were so wise. Same as the coming of the Savior. No one knew the time or the place, but it was imperative they were ready. When it got right down to it, Elizabeth knew. John the Baptist knew. They were inspired to know. For goodness sake, John leaped for joy in his mothers womb with the greeting of Mary when she visited Elizabeth carrying the Christ Child. Mary knew. (yes, contradictory to that famous song, she DID know) and Joseph knew. It was time. He was coming. And they prepared.

When Joseph went into that cave with his laboring wife, he probably kicked out of the way any debris that might be blocking Mary’s path. Let’s kick out the debris blocking the path of our love so we can receive Jesus. As Mary labored, let us too labor to prepare our spiritual stables for the birth of Our Lord. Let’s clear away the cobwebs of nuisance and distraction. Of bad habits and language. Make peace with that annoying neighbor, or long lost friend that you lost over a stupid misunderstanding.

Light the candle to light up the cave on that night. Bring light into the darkest recesses of our heart where our Lord will dwell. Go to confession. Clear out the hidden debris. Prepare for Our Lord to rest there. Accept the apology you will never get. Move forward free to love. Until we can let go of hate we cannot love fully.

During Lent I like to look to these prophets for guidance in preparing myself for the coming of Our Savior. Look to the trust of Abraham. The courage of David when he stepped up to fight Goliath. The bravery of Esther in defending her people, risking her life in the process. Look to Jonah, who tried to escape God’s will and jump on a boat to Tarshish. He finally had what it took to go into a city where he wasn’t welcome and spread his message of repentance.

Let’s walk through Advent with those who went before us, and listen to their messages to prepare the way of the Lord.

To Buffalo NY! ....by way of Nashville TN, Greenville SC, Marshfield WI, Myrtle Beach SC, Buffalo NY

What a Lent it has been!

God has blessed me with opportunities to reach out to so many people in so many places in the past two months.

I am posting some new pictures in the gallery of my travels.

Recording my new cd “Lost and Found” in Nashville was quite the experience. What talented musicians! When we recorded Rock a Bye, you could have heard a pin drop. Hearts were moved. Thank you Jesus!

Many lessons learned there and of course, mind blown by our Lord as well. He never ceases to amaze me with His guidance and His mercy.

I had the privilege of singing and speaking around the states:

Greenville, SC: The Belonging women’s conference in Greenville, SC. What a joy to connect with so many beautiful Catholic Women!

Myrtle Beach, SC: Saint Andrews Catholic Church Confirmation prep “Super Sunday” with all the young people and their parents.

Marshfield WI: gave a women’s retreat “Swimming upstream:Keeping the faith in this secular world!” that was chock full of healing and empowerment through the Holy Spirit, Sang my Stations of the Cross at their beautiful St John the Baptist church, visited three schools there to talk to the kids about being connected to the power of the Mystical Body of Christ and sing the Stations of the Cross.

Buffalo, NY: I was able to participate in “Soup, Song, and Stations” at St Martin of Tours where I was able to share my Stations of the Cross and reconnect with some old friends, talked to the Religious Education students and their teachers about Lent and powering up with the Holy Spirit, visited St Teresa’s and St Thomas Aquinas in South Buffalo as well to cantor Mass and share my Stations of the Cross. I was able to visit the student body of Chesterton Academy as well and share my Stations with them. What a beautiful group!

Myrtle Beach, SC: back again to my home parish where I was blessed to have the opportunity to give one of the Lenten Talks to our parishioners, “Keeping it Catholic, real life, real family, real world” and sing the Stations of the Cross.

I will be visiting the local schools this week and next to do more of the same, including the students of St. Elizabeth Ann Seton High School, Our Lady Star of the Sea Religious Education department, Holy Trinity Elementary, and Coastal Carolina University and their Catholic Students at the Lackey Chapel on campus.

Thank you Jesus!

4 cars, 6 kids, 2 dogs and a tortoise

4 cars, 6 kids, 2 dogs and a tortoise

When it had become clear that Hurricane Florence was an actual threat, and mandatory evacuations were being put into place for the coastline, we made the decision to evacuate. Within a day we had packed up everything of value in rubbermaid bins, covered the piano and drums with tarps, packed up the dogs and the tortoise, left the stray cats plenty of food outside, fed the fish enough to make them triple in size, and left the house at night to head for the mountains ahead of the evacuation traffic. We had a four car convoy heading out into the night. Strange - the actual possibility of losing our home here in SC or suffering serious damage was fairly easy to digest. We were all in a place of complete trust that God would provide what we needed if and when we needed it and we were ready. In fact, we were actually looking forward to the possibility of starting over. My deal with God on that trip was, “take the house and everything in it - just keep my kids safe!” Especially since two of our adult children weren't going to be with us. At 3am, we ascended our favorite mountain road in NC exhausted and stressed after having found our way through the foggy, freshly paved (therefore missing any reflective paint or lane divisions) roads. The next day we heard of a friend in need of a place to go so we welcomed her and her husband to join us. They came the following night. 
What started out as a forced vacation, turned into a three week forced exile. We watched everything unfold via The Weather Channel, from a safe distance. We spent quality time together, got to know our friends a bit better, watched a lot of movies, had a lot of bonfires, lots of library time, and of course some adventures. My husband had to commute during the week to get his business up and running again. Each time filling us in on the road closures, flooding and mayhem going on back at home. When enough roads were open and stores had supplies again, we made the trip ourselves. Coming home was difficult to say the least. When you get to spend time up the mountain, physically and spiritually, it is always so hard to come back down. We are thankful that our home suffered no major damage. A lost shutter, some lifted siding, and a pool full of yard debris are all we had to deal with from the storm. So many are in such worse shape. We are still unpacking and putting our home back together on the inside, while many are trying to find what’s left of their home on the outside. Thank you, Lord, for Your protection and providence. Help us to do what we can to help others who have lost so much. As the flood waters continue to recede, help us to be patient. It will be a long time before our county is back to normal. I am grateful for lessons learned and priority adjustments made. Thank you to all of our friends and family who kept us in your thoughts and prayers! We appreciate you! May God Bless you and keep you! Now back to unpacking…….

"I don't think that word means what you think it means"

“I don’t think that word means what you think it means”

 I have in the past several weeks,  heard on a few separate occasions from different friends or acquaintances, I am Christian, but…., Or, I raise my kids to be Christian, but……

And usually that is followed by the specific teaching of Christ and His church that they will not follow for one reason or another.

In this day and age, so many definitions have changed, I feel it is important to revisit some of them and set them straight.

Firstly; Christian

1.    A person who has received Christian Baptism or is a believer in Jesus Christ and His teachings.

2.    A Christian is a person who follows or adheres to Christianity.

3.    From the Greek word, Χριστιανός, or  Christianos,  meaning “follower of Christ”

Χριστιανός comes from Χριστός (Christos), meaning “anointed one” with an adjectival ending borrowed from Latin to denote adhering to, or even belonging to, as in slave ownership.

Yes! That said follower! Adhering to, or even belonging to, as in slave ownership!

Not something to be taken lightly, or misconstrued into our own comfortable idea of its definition.

If we revisit that first statement,  “I am a Christian”,  we can translate that into “I am a follower of Christ”

The word follower in this application does not mean follower like our culture uses the word.

“I follow him on twitter, or Instagram, or facebook,  - I mean, yeah, I think Jesus is  a pretty cool dude and I like to see what he is saying once in a while”

To profess yourself a Christian means much more than that. It goes from a distant admirer to an actual follower!

Follow

1.    act according to (an instruction or precept).

Synonyms: obey, comply with, conform to, adhere to, stick to, keep to, hew to, act in accordance with, abide by, observe, heed, pay attention to

Which keeps bringing us back to that pesky word adhere.

Adhere means:

Stick fast to

Synonyms: cohere, cling, bond, attach

- believe and follow the practices of.

So, in this wishy-washy world of half beliefs, self-created beliefs, and lets be frank – no beliefs, please, I beg of you; If you are going to call yourself a Christian, mean it. Live it. Go to the nearest Church and sit a while. Be reminded of what that word actually means. It doesn’t make you part of a popularity club who hangs out on Sunday to make you feel good. Don't get me wrong, it can make you feel good, and some of your closest friends may come from your fellow parishioners, but that is not its purpose. Its purpose is to continually lead us back to Christ, and His teachings. To offer us the way to find real healing, and purpose, and to take our place in this world as a servant of our Savior and Lord. 

Being Christian is a membership in an amazing group of warriors. Followers of Christ. Pick up your cross and accept your marching orders! He is our leader. He is the one who tells us through word and 2000 + years of tradition what we are to do. He is the one we can turn to for discernment in this crazy world. He is the one with whom we long to spend eternity. 

I am a Catholic (which means, universal) Christian. I choose to cling to Him and the teachings of His church on earth. I do my best to obey Him, to adhere to Him, to follow Him. I hope you can find the joy that comes from being one of His followers.  

As the beloved Mother Angelica said:

“God wants you to be in the world but so different from the world that you will change it. Get cracking!”

God bless you and keep you!

Laura

Rejoice in the Lord always! I said ALWAYS!!

You know, sometimes you just have to laugh and rejoice anyway. 

I came home from a wonderful trip to Wisconsin, full of several awesome and Spirit filled events, including a blessed retreat I was honored to give to an incredible group of women at St John the Baptist church in Marshfield, and visits to a few schools there as well, to talk to and sing to the kids. I was on a high, as is the case whenever I return from such a trip, Holy Spirit coursing through my veins.

I proceeded to visit two Catholic Schools in my hometown, speaking and singing to the kids there, and enjoying every minute of it. 

Then reality hit a week later when a pipe burst in one of the downstairs bathrooms here in SC, and flooded five rooms in my home. 

You know satan, I understand you hate it when we bring others closer to God, and when we make closer connections to Our Heavenly Father ourselves. I get it. But really? I've cleared your hurtles before and I will do it again. 

I had just finished reminding the ladies on my Wisconsin journey how we must rejoice in the Lord always, even during the ugly and messy and craziness that is life. 

I had just finished lifting other people up in their difficulties and grief, suffering and healing, abuse and forgiveness.....

and here I am in a flooded house with six kids and my husband, wondering how on earth this is ever going to get cleaned up. 

You know what? It will get cleaned up. It's Lent. Just like we will get our souls cleaned up, I will get my home in order somehow. I thank God for this reminder of how temporary our time here is on this earth. How temporary things are. How temporary sanity can be when you're a mom, a wife, a teacher, a woman....  and how much we need each other. 

I thank the Lord that we have homeowners insurance that will cover all of our losses in this mini-disaster. 

Yes, I may be looking at a few weeks without a kitchen, and camping out at friends houses with the kids, but THANK YOU LORD for those friends, willing to open their doors to us. 

I'm heading to New York tomorrow to reach out to more people through my ministry of music and presentation, and I will leave this mess behind. I am thankful that I get to bring four of my girls with me so they too can have a bit of a respite from the chaos...

Yes, when we get back the real demolition will begin, but I will be that much stronger, and that much more ready for whatever God needs me to push through this Lent. So I will go on as I always do, day to day, moment to moment, trying to do the right thing by my Lord and Master. Failing and resetting, through joy and sorrow, embracing every moment. 

Whatever your setbacks may be this Lent, let's thank God together for letting us share in a tiny bit of our Savior's suffering.

God bless you and keep you!!

Until next time, Your servant in Christ,

Laura

The Knitting Bag

Yes, I love to knit.

It is therapeutic.

When I am knitting I am in one of my happy places.

It's funny though - the other day I was cleaning out and trying to bring sense to my knitting bag -

which over time becomes a big knotted mess of colors and textures and needles, new and old, all stuck into each other and wrapped around each other until you can't pull out one without getting them all.

I have realized in sorting this, that my knitting bag is a perfect microcosm of my life. 

Each remnant of yarn in that knotted mess brings back a memory. So many projects that were started but not finished; sometimes because I lost the pattern, sometimes because it was too difficult, or it wasn't turning out the way I had hoped... 

Some projects turned out wonderfully and bring such joy when I see my kids still wrapped up in that blanket, or wearing that hat, or that sweater, or those mittens, or socks or slippers........ 

Each one has a special place in my heart. I embrace all of it.

Including the messy parts at the bottom of the bag -  things collected while knitting in different places;  like change, or hair clips, or receipts, or food crumbs , prayer cards, candy wrappers, rubber bands - notes scribbled down on crinkled up scraps of paper...

Even the needles themselves speak volumes. Bamboo knitting needles, some double pointed, some not, some worn out and ready for retirement after many hours spent together working, some with teeth marks in them from a child who decided it felt good to chomp down on my needles at one point or another, and brand new ones, still in the package - full of promise of what is to come. 

I feel like in sorting my knitting bag, I've sorted out a bit of myself again. Ready to start fresh and enjoy this ride a while longer. 

Lord help me to always embrace it all.

The orderly, the tangled, the victorious and the frustrating, the messy and the clean, it's all what makes me who I am, and as imperfect as that may be, it's just fine. I will keep moving forward and try to do my best. Time to patch up the hole in the bottom of this bag and move on. 

"I love my life!"

"I love my life" said my eight-year-old daughter as she skipped through the kitchen. I was standing there washing dishes and I said to her "I love my life too! " and I smiled.

It appeared as though another one of my children had understood the theory of happiness as a choice. If I've said it once I've said it 1000 times to my children "it is your decision whether or not you will be happy today!"

Of course my daughter's happiness this morning was largely due to the fact that yet another cat has brought her kittens to our front porch as a refuge where she knows she will be fed and cared for.

Kittens = happiness.

These opportunities to feel joy putting a skip in her step are wonderful at the ripe old age of eight. And although she may not realize the true source of her joy yet, it's wonderful that she should recognize that feeling to the point of exclaiming it!

God is love. And when we are giving love we are feeling God through us and when we are receiving love we are feeling God presenting himself to us, and that is the greatest joy there is.

So today, I choose to be happy! Whether I am scrubbing out a toilet or preparing a meal for my family I choose love, and therefore I choose to be happy today.

Charleston MOM's!!

Had a wonderful morning reaching out to the Cathedral of St John the Baptist's mother's group. It was nice to reconnect with some moms I've meet in my travels in the past and always a joy to meet new ones. I love the sisterhood among mothers, and I love reaching out to them with reminders of the awesomeness of their vocation. We must lift each other up always!!!! Let's bring more souls to heaven, sisters!

Shuffling off to Buffalo!

I hope everyone is having a blessed Lent so far! Never underestimate  the power of prayer and fasting.  I'm looking forward to several appearances in South Carolina and New York in the next several weeks. It's not too late to book a date if your parish would open their doors to me this Lent! Here's an article published recently in the WNY Catholic newspaper.

Thank you Lord Jesus for these opportunities to share Your love with others. 

I get it!

Dear Mom,  

I get it. The older I get, the older the kids get, more and more each day I get it. I understand you and what you felt at different times in your motherhood as I pass through similar stages in mine.

I was washing the dishes the other day, staring out the window thinking about things, and I could hear six of my children upstairs laughing and carrying on as they played a game together. At that moment, as in other moments like it, there was such a peace. For that frozen moment in time everything was ok.  

I understand, as we all got older and developed our individual interests and relationships, how happy it made you to have us kids together in one place reconnecting an enjoying each other's company.  

I understand the pain of missing the one or two chicks who couldn't make it back to the nest for one reason or another. I understand the loneliness that comes with our state in life at times, and how it can only be comforted by our close relationship with God.  

I get it Mom!  

If you were here we could sit over a cup of coffee and a crossword puzzle and discuss our parallel universes in depth. How I long for your pearls of wisdom at times!  

For now I will enter into this season of thanks so very thankful for the role model and mentor I have had in you.   

I will picture you, in your beautiful dress, stockings and heels, finally removing your apron and sitting down at our enormous dining room table full of your complete day's work, slipping off your shoes under the table and taking it all in as we come together once again for Thanksgiving.  

thanks Mom. I miss you.  

Love,  

Laura  

God willing and the creek don't rise!........

Never before have I understood this phrase to the depth that I have this past week and a half. 

We live in South Carolina, inland from Myrtle Beach. 11 days ago, we made the decision to evacuate with seven of our children to the mountains of NC to escape the possible devastation of Hurricane Matthew.

We had to make the call -  that it wasn't worth the risk.  I learned many years ago while living in WNY to detach myself from stuff when I had the hard lesson of losing a bunch of my most important stuff to a flooded basement. "stuff is stuff" was God's lesson to me during that time, and I have clung to that over the years as I became less and less attached to things of this world. 

But our children - God's most precious gifts to my husband and me - were not to be risked. We took down precious pictures from the walls and packed them away just in case... The stray cats who have adopted us were provided with many feeding stations outside, and the mama and her kittens were left plenty of provisions inside. The dogs and the tortoise came with us, and we left. Not knowing what would be there to greet us upon our return a week later. 

The next few days were full of anxious moments as we checked in as much as we could via the spotty internet connections available to us up in the mountains. We worried about our oldest daughter who chose to stay behind in North Myrtle Beach. As reports came in we were quite concerned at one point that there may not be much left of our home when we got back. I remember on Saturday night as I lay there awake in the middle of the night and the storm was raging back in SC, begging God to take my home and spare my daughter. 

Then there was a period of peace.. Yes the storm had ravaged our area. Yes, there would be lots of destruction. Yes, there will be flooding. But our kids would be ok, and that was enough. 

As it turned out, our house was indeed spared. Many around us were not. Trees were down everywhere, power lines down, telephone poles down, roads washed away, or closed because they had been turned into lakes. Our power had been off long enough to render everything in our fridge and freezer spoiled, but hey, I wanted to clean our the fridge anyway, (boy was it pretty nasty) and I am so thankful we can afford to restock our groceries. 

A week later there are still people without power, still people who lost everything, still trees down being cleaned up - and yes - the creeks are still rising!!! Just this morning it took my college age kids an hour and a half to make their usual 25 minute trip to school due to the flooded roads and detours. More areas are still being evacuated due to rising flood waters. 

Thank you, God, for the reminder that we need to depend on You. That You will provide for our needs. That You will keep us safe, and comfort us in our hour of need. You calmed this mother's heart a hundred times that night, and I am again reminded how much You love Your sons and daughters. 

Our area will recover, flood waters will receed (eventually), and life will get back to "normal". Retreats will be rescheduled, speaking engagements will be rescheduled. But for now, we will navigate this new terrain one day at a time. I pray that you are all safe and sound, and I will ask that you pray for those who are still suffering so greatly from this storm. 

I hope to see you soon! God willing and the creek don't rise!