Today I am wondering what Jesus was like as a baby.
Last night I was rocking Joe to sleep. He is battling an ear infection and I have a feeling he'll start teething any day now. I was at my wits end because he had been fussy all. night. long. I was tired and beyond frustrated. Joe kept crying and twisting and turning in my arms. He refused to nurse. He even refused his binky. Finally after what seemed like hours his eyes got heavy and he drifted off to sleep.
I kept on rocking him because I just knew the minute I put him in the crib he would probably wake up again. I hated that he was in pain. I hated that I felt like a zombie. But I knew that motherhood isn't all giggles and rainbows.
I looked over at the crucifix on our wall. Instead of pondering the mystery of the Trinity or the miracle of transubstantiation, I thought about what Jesus was like as a baby.
I wonder if Jesus had ear infections or was ever really fussy? I mean, I know he is GOD, but he is also fully human as well. Did he ever have a diaper blowout? I certainly hope it wasn't when he was running around naked like all the paintings show him if that ever happened! Did Jesus sleep through the night at an early age? What was his favorite toy? Did he ever projectile vomit?
I wonder what Mary was like as a mother to her baby. How did being free from Original Sin play into her role of mommy? So many times I get frustrated, but I doubt Mary ever did. So if Jesus was ever fussy, she'd be the perfect woman to deal with that.
I wonder how much she was in awe of her little boy. I stare in amazement at my son everyday but his birth wasn't announced to me by an angel and he isn't the Son of God. I bet she often cradled Jesus in her arms and stroked his chubby hands. Someday these hands would hold tools and he would shortly take on the craft of carpentry like his foster-father, Joseph. Someday these hands would cure lepers, give sight to the blind and open the ears of the deaf. These hands would take bread and change it into his body, blood, soul and divinity. These hands would have nails driven into them as he died for our sins and conquer death. But as she was studying these hands they were probably being chewed and slobbered on, or reaching out for a toy or reaching out to touch her face. Maybe he was just learning how to clap.
I bet Mary was so thrilled when Jesus started tottling around. These feet and legs would carry him all over Galilee as he taught his followers. They would even walk on water. A sinful woman would wash the feet of Jesus with her penitent tears and anoint them with expensive ointment.
When she looked at the chubby, baby soft cheeks of her son I wonder if she knew that they would be spit on, punched and bleeding as he was marched to the cross.
I bet baby Jesus had the cutest laugh and the most adorable smile.
Was Mary nervous as the mother of God? The Savior of the world. What a huuuuuuuuge responsibility. I think that I worry too much- how much did she worry? She had that jerk-wad King Herod to worry about. I'm sure that there were diseases to worry about, famines, droughts, and evil Romans. At least she didn't have that blasted BabyCenter.com to freak her out. A wise friend of mine told me to unsubscribe to their emails, but since I am a glutton for punishment I keep crawling back. Now I'm worried that since Joe is in the 99th percentile of weight and way, way low on the height chart that he's going to be a 5 foot 1 inch adult male that weighs 400 lbs and will live in my basement forever. I'm worried that since he hates tummy time that he will never crawl, thus never walk, and I'll have to carry around my 400 lb son! OK, so maybe I'm overreacting.
Some of my favorite paintings are of the Holy Family. My favorites is the one below. It shows that Jesus was like us. He was a baby like us. He had a family and liked to play. But I just wonder how much of the whole being God influenced how he acted as a baby.
One thing I'm pretty sure of- he was probably one adorable baby!
How many blogs do you follow and how many of them do you actually read?
I'm finding it harder and harder to keep up with peoples' blogs. I keep finding great new ones to read! I find them in other people's blog rolls, and through commenters on my posts.
There are some blogs that I always read because I consider them dear blogging friends and they always have something interesting to say. I will admit that there are some blogs in my reader that I just skim over. I mean, my goodness.... just look at my profile and you will see how many blogs I follow. Granted, not all of them post frequently, and some of them don't post at all, but still!
I feel like my days are so busy with Joe, which I'm not complaining about! It's just I feel like I really have no time for myself. I can read blogs and have me-time when he goes to sleep, but honestly, I'm ready to go to bed myself. I don't understand how some women who have like eight kids find time to even write their own blog posts! How do you do it?!
I know that this may seem like a strange dilemma. It's not really a problem, just more of a minute frustration. It's not the end of the world if I don't get caught up on my blogs. Spending time with my husband and son is waaaaaaaaay more important than reading a blog post. I get that. But I enjoy reading blogs. I enjoy reading Faith and Family Live. I want to get more involved with the online NFP community at LivingTheSacrament.com. I just think I'm just bad at managing my blog reading time. Maybe it's that evil facebook that sucks me away!
So, how do you go about reading your favorite blogs and websites?
You want to know a sure-fire way to really confuse a first-time mom?
Give her reading material on how to get her baby to sleep well.
I’ve never really given much thought on the business of getting my 4 month old to sleep. Everyone always asks me “Does he sleep through the night yet?” Um, no. He is still getting up about every 2 hours to nurse. (Isn’t it obvious he doesn’t sleep all through the night? My hunka-hunka burnin’ love is 18 lbs! There aren’t enough daylight hours to keep him plumped up like that!)
I figured it wasn’t normal for Joe to finally settle down for the night between 11:00 p.m. and midnight. I just chalked it up to his temperament and/or maybe the fact that at his 6:00 a.m. feeding I would bring him into bed with me to nurse and we’d sleep in.
His late-night settling down was a topic I was going to bring up to his doctor. But then I got an email from BabyCenter.com with the subject line of “How much sleep does your baby need?” Ah ha- maybe this will give me some answers! When I clicked the link I was immediately flooded with guilt.
There was a large chart of different infant ages, how much day time sleep and nighttime sleep they need and the approximate number of naps they need to take. In the 3 month-old box the info stated that he should be getting around 5 hours of sleep during the day spread out in 3 naps. Well Joe gets some long naps, then he cat naps throughout the day. I never even really take the time to “time” how long his naps are. Even though the article stresses that every baby is an individual, I started getting a little worried that I was sleep depriving my baby.
I especially started getting worried when I read this: “Often, says BabyCenter sleep expert Jodi Mindell, author of Sleeping Through the Night, if a child has poor sleep habits or refuses to go to bed before 11 at night, his parents will think that he just doesn't need a lot of sleep. That's probably not true — in fact, it's likely that such a child is actually sleep-deprived.”
Then there was a list of questions to determine if your child is sleep deprived:
Does your child fall asleep almost every time he's in a car? Of course he does. I thought driving around was like chloroform for kids.
Do you have to wake your child almost every morning? Mmm… not really. There have been a few times I have had to.
Does your child seem cranky, irritable, or overtired during the day? Yes, just like his momma.
The next sentence stated, “If you answered ‘yes’ to any of these, your child may be getting less sleep than he needs.
D’OH!
I figured it was about time for me to really start to try harder in setting a sleep routine. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but I was bound and determined to stick with it.
The first night we took a bath at 7:00 p.m. I gave him a massage with baby lotion, then sat in the rocker with the lights dim and read him my all time favorite Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown. I nursed him and rocked him and he drifted off to sleep. It was 8:00.
SUCCESS!
Sure, he still woke up numerous times to nurse but I was expecting that.
The following night was also a success. He had even taken 2 scheduled naps with me during the day. This wasn’t so bad.
Well, I’m sure you know where this story is going.
New Year’s Eve night was the third night of getting Joe to bed early. He went down around 8:30 with relatively no problems.
Then 10:00 rolled around and he started fussing. I walked in and instead of continued fussing he flashed a huge smile that said, “Let’s party!” He wasn’t ready to go to sleep anytime soon.
Long story short, he fought sleep so hard and after awhile his lovely grins became ear-splitting screams. This happened the following night as well.
So what do I do? I hit the books and websites for tips on how to deal with the problem. And, of course, this was a big mistake.
Everywhere I read there were subtle suggestions of the cry it out method. Don’t rock your baby to sleep. (I do that.) Don’t nurse your baby to sleep. (Guilty.) Don’t pick up your baby if he starts crying (Yup, guilty again.)
Everything in my very motherly being tells me to do these things. And it’s not only instinct, but I enjoy rocking him and watch him drift into a deep peaceful sleep. Sure, the first couple of weeks of being a new mom it was a drag to get out of my nice warm bed to nurse him, but now my body has adjusted to not getting a solid 4 hours of sleep and getting up multiple times in the night is second nature.
I remember at Joe’s 2 month well-child check I asked his pediatrician about his major fussiness. I was asking because it was nearly always after he ate so I thought it was a digestion problem. He immediately chalked it up to Joe being overtired. To “help” him sleep better I needed to not nurse him if he needs to be comforted (“You don’t want to turn into a human pacifier,” he says) and to let him cry it out so he can learn to sooth himself to sleep.
**Side note: Joe’s doc is an OK guy. He’s nice and has calmed some of my worries, but he gives me the heebie jeebies. I can’t put my finger on why he does, but he just creeps me out. It doesn’t help that he once wore the same sweater that Freddie Krueger wears. I kid you not. Reason #729 that we want to move.)**
I remember that night I tried the whole cry it out. I lasted ohhhhh…. About 11.7 seconds. I just couldn’t do it. His whimpers got louder. His whimpers turned into fussy noises, then the mad cries started and I swooped up my little boy in my arms to comfort him. It’s like this- you have an itch- you scratch it. You see your baby son crying- you pick him up. I can’t just sit there. I’ve heard of parents who stuff blankets in around the door to block out the sound or who go to other parts of the house to not hear the crying. You’d have to knock me out, tie me up and lock me in a closet a county away for me to not run to his aide.
But here is where I get confused. There are SOOOO many “how to get your baby to sleep to make your life easier and have your baby become a thriving contributor to society” tips. There are so many DO THIS OR ELSE reading materials out there that it gives me a headache. I have found my parenting groove with Dr. William Sears’ book “The Baby Book.” His natural, no-nonsense, attachment style of parenting fits in with my outlook of parenting. His section on getting baby to sleep was/is helpful, but I still have my doubts about myself.
Am I being too much of a helicopter parent? You know, that mother who hovers over her child, never letting him experience things on his own and to learn his own life lessons. Maybe I should wait a little longer to see if Joe will soothe himself to sleep. Maybe I should wait to walk into his room when he starts whimpering. All the cry it out proponents say that if you run to your baby at every cry they will become too reliant on you. He will basically learn that whenever he wants something, all he has to do is cry and mommy and daddy will get it for him.
Now, I don’t pick Joe up every time he cries. Usually I just hold his hand or pat his belly, or stick his paci back in and he drifts off to sleep. But as soon as those whimpers become something more, he’s in my arms.
Am I spoiling him? Suddenly, a vision of Joe pops into my head- he’s in a plush leather chair wearing a smoking jacket. He turns to me and says in a British accent, “Mother dear. Run on over the kitchen and fetch me a chilled glass of milk. Chop, chop.” He then turns back to his friends as they continue their conversation about yachts and caviar.
Am I setting him up for failure? Will my picking him up when he cries, rocking him to sleep, nursing him before bed parenting ways mean he won’t get accepted to college, he’ll live in my basement when he’s 36 and I’ll be cooking all his meals and trying to find him a nice girl to marry? Suddenly, a vision of Joe being like Chazz from the (horrible) movie Wedding Crashers comes to mind.
Basically what I’ve gathered from most baby help books is that if you don’t wash off baby food jars before you open them, if you don’t clean the baby’s spoon between jars, if you don’t show them pictures of black and white zing zag designs and if you use a sippy cup past their first birthday you are setting your child up for an epic fail in life.
Helping your baby learn and grow is essential. Helping them find their independence is important too, but he’s still a baby. He’s can’t be completely independent. He’s going to depend on me for years to come. Where do I find that balance of being a source of comfort for my son while letting him explore the world on his own?
I've been thinking about a lot this Veteran's Day. I have a lot of family and friends who have proudly served this great country. My big brother is one of those who has worn the Marine uniform and defended our country in Saudi Arabia during Desert Storm. I was six years old when he went overseas and I remember being scared to death. I remember Mom watching CNN every night to get news about what was going on over there. I also remember how happy I was when he finally came back home. The picture above was taken during his homecoming. I look pretty darn happy, don't I?
Looking at that picture I think about my relationship with my brother. He is 13 years older than me. We've had quite a unique evolution of our sibling relationship. We are both children of a single mother, so he helped quite a bit in taking care of me. He was the father figure in my life since my own father was absent in my childhood.
I practically idolized my brother while growing up. I recently read in my diaries that I kept in grade school how excited I was when he would come visit. He would take me to really neat places like Worlds of Fun, Royals games, Renaissance festivals and even Chuck E. Cheese! He would buy me movies and help me beat the hard levels in Super Nintendo games.
In high school our relationship changed to a typical brother/sister bond- lots of teasing and fighting. He would make me mad by siding with mom when she and I would have arguments. He'd anger me by making fun of my boyfriends (which actually he was right in doing so.) But for the most part we got along.
Now that we are adults, I would like to think of us as good, close friends. We still drive each other crazy, but that will always be the nature of a brother/sister relationship! My love for my only real sibling is very great. One of the greatest parts of my wedding was my brother walking me down the aisle. The picture above is one of my favorites from that day.
Thinking on my relationship with my brother makes me wonder what life would have been like if I would have grown up with a lot of siblings. I sometimes felt like an only child since my brother was so much older and left the home when I was very young. This isn't a way to poo-poo my relationship with my brother, because I am very grateful for it. I'm also not trying to guilt my mother for not having more children. Lord knows she would have probably went off the deep end if she had to raise duplicates of my brother and I.
I wonder if my siblings and I would have been close. Maybe we would have such radically different interests that we wouldn't be close at all.
If I had grown up with sisters would I be more into fashion and being a girly-girl? (Because I definitely am not one!) Would we have shared a room and stayed up late talking about boys, friends and childhood memories? Would we have fought for time in the bathroom? Would we borrow each other's clothes and makeup? Do each other's hair? Would we be best friends and bridesmaids and/or maids of honor at each other's weddings? Would we go shopping? Would we put each other's boyfriends through a rigorous acceptance test because we don't want her to date a complete loser? Would we have wanted to tear each other's hair out?
If I had grown up with a lot of brothers would I be more athletically inclined? Would I have grown up to be a huge tom-boy or still grow up to be a girly girl and roll my eyes at their testosterone-heavy antics? Would I have not dated some of the losers I have dated in the past because my brothers would have been around to kick their butt if they broke my heart?
If I had more siblings would I be a little less selfish than I am today? Would I be a little less anal about doing everything my self and allowing others to help out? Would I still be as competitive as I am now?
If I was the oldest sibling would I have been jealous at the arrival of a new brother or sister? Would I feel pressure to be a good role model to my younger siblings? Would I feel like a guinea pig to my mom and dad's parenting techniques? Would I be good at looking after my siblings and teaching them new things? Would I be sad to leave my brothers and sisters behind while I went off to college? Or would I be happy to go to get away from the chaos?
If I was the middle sibling would I feel invisible? Would it be a relief that not all the pressure of being a positive role model was on me? Would I have to fight for attention? Would I be annoyed at the hand me downs? Would I feel less stressed that I would have an older sibling to go through stuff first (going to high school, driving test, first date, going to college) and give me advice on how to handle it?
If I was the youngest sibling would I feel pressure to live up to my older brothers and sisters? Would I be even more annoyed than my middle siblings at hand me downs because they are in even crappier shape than when they got them? Would I be sad that I didn't have any younger siblings to impart my wisdom? Would I feel sad when all my older siblings left the home for college because it would feel strange being the only one in the house? Or would I think it's awesome that I finally have all my parents' attention and the whole house to myself?
These are just some things that I am wondering about. As I look at my son I wonder if God will bless us with many brothers and sisters for him. We believe the greatest gift we can give him is a sibling, whenever that will be, we don't know. However, I do cherish these moments of just Mommy, Daddy and Joe.
Would I have a different attitude and outlook on life if I would have had more siblings? Perhaps, but I thank God he has given me my older brother and I think things worked out perfectly the way they have!
I'm wondering if y'all have any good suggestions for songs to put on my iPod for when I am in labor.
Of course I'll have the plinky dinky Enya type classical music to soothe me, but I also plan on having some upbeat songs in there as well. I'm talking some 80's, classic rock and songs from musicals. I'm sure there is some labor expert out there that advises that it's not good for the pregnant body and mind to mix slow, relaxing music with fast, upbeat music, but I know I will need a change in genres every so often. I remember in high school when I was out of my mind nervous before singing a solo for district or state music contest I would listen to heavy metal to calm me down and it aways worked.
Some of the slow music I have in mind:
The album "Echoes of Ephesus" by the Benedictines of Mary, Queen of Apostles CDs of different movie scores- Twilight, Harry Potter, Batman, Charlotte's Web a couple classical CDs slow songs of the Beatles and John Lennon
Some of the faster music I'd like to play:
"Day-O" by Harry Belafonte "Jump in the Line" by Harry Belafonte (Yes, I am aware these first two songs are played in the movie Beetlejuice, but I love 'em!) "The Power of Love" by Huey Lewis and the News "Little Bitty Pretty One" by Huey Lewis and the News Rolling Stones Beatles "Summer in the City" by Lovin' Spoonfuls "The Heat is On" by Glen Frey "Smoke on the Water" by Deep Purple
and... of course.... "Gonna Fly Now" AKA the theme song from the movie Rocky. What an awesome way to pump one up for giving birth!!! (I understand I may be in no mood to listen to this song while my uterus is contracting, but this song just makes me wanna power through anything! YEAH!!!)
I could list so much more, but I won't. As you can tell, my music interests are very random. I love all music- classical, rock (classic, hard, hair, metal), country, religious, punk, oldies, folk, a little bit of rap, Celtic... almost everything except modern jazz.
So I'm wondering- Will you please, dear friends of mine, throw some suggestions my way for songs you listen to to relax, focus and concentrate? I'm not planning on using any medication during labor and delivery, so listening to music is my form of pain management!
Thanks!
P.S. I'm also wondering how to schedule a post to be published. I wrote this post last night and I clicked the option to have it posted at 8:00 AM today but apparently that didn't work. I tried it one other time and didn't know what to click, so I just cliked Publish Post and it went ahead and published it before I was ready! Help!
Today I am wondering- why does society have a big problem with married couples using NFP and/or wanting big families? And what makes them think it is acceptable to vocally express their criticism?
I have come across numerous blog posts by women who are negatively judged and criticized for having large families. I have people who are near and dear to me who are also harshly judged for their decision to have more kids than is culturally acceptable. They get snarky remarks from other women in the grocery store or other public place.
"You know what causes that, don't you?"
"Well now you have a girl and a boy, so you can stop!"
"Better you than me."
"Don't you know when to stop?"
"You and your husband are crazy."
"When are you going to get 'fixed'?"
Then there are the comments I hear when the couple who is open to children are not present. Half of the time these are comments from the couple's family.
"I sure hope they slow down."
"I hope they are done."
"I can't believe they are having another one."
"They can't afford having any more children."
"Their house is too small for all those kids."
And I thought family was supposed to be supportive.
When I hear these things I just want to burst out, "Shame on you! Do you really think it is your place to judge their decisions?" When I read other mommy blogs and read of these situations, my Irish-German temper rises up and I. get. MAD.
Last night I was reading Family Foundations, an NFP magazine published by Couple to Couple League and it showcased very holy men who take the heat for using NFP and being open to life. They get some of the same comments as women- "Aren't you done yet?" "About time to get fixed, huh?" This completely shocked me. I'm not surprised that other women make such rude comments. Let's face it gals, we can be pretty snarky and rude to our fellow woman. But I thought men were a little more laid back than that. To see these men get blasted for the choices they and their wives make regarding their own family just blew my mind.
I cannot wrap my head around how people think they can be so rude to other people who have big families or who don't use artificial birth control.
I am by no means a perfect person. I do sin often and judge others. It's one sin I take time and time again to the confessional. There is one thing I do not judge and that is one's family size. I would never in a million years say to a woman with her two kids in line at the grocery store, "Only 2 kids, huh? What, you can't afford any more? You can emotionally handle anymore? You'd rather have that new camper than another child? Isn't it time to have another one?"
Couples have many reasons for their family size. Fertility issues, finances, emotional problems, abuse, family crisis, you name it. God's will isn't for every family to have 8 kids. Some feel called to only have a couple children. I just have issues with those couples who choose to buy a new boat rather than be open to another child. I worked in a nursing home and have had lovely conversations with sweet elderly patients. I never once heard from these patients "I wish I had one less child." It was ALWAYS, "I wish I had more children." Boats and cars and matching furniture only last so long, but the gift of a child lasts forever.
We live in a society of "do what you wanna do" or "do what feels right to you." But that's only if you do what's culturally normal. Not using birth control, being open to God's will for family size, going to church, praying in public, wearing shirts with Christian themes, not wearing slutty, revealing clothes- well you shouldn't really do all that. It's not normal. As long as you do what everyone else does- it's OK. But anything out of the norm- well, it's open for judging and criticizing.
That's probably the answer to my wondering- being open to children isn't normal in today's society. Using God's gift of female fertility to plan a family isn't normal. Being obedient to God's will isn't normal.
Family may judge because they are concerned for the couple's well-being. They worry the couple may struggle financially or not be able to have nice things. Of course the couple should be appreciative of that. I have asked my mom if she thinks we're crazy for using NFP and wanting to have a large family (of course, as I always say, if God wills that.) She says, "You and Ryan are adults and can make your own choices. You love and care for each other and wouldn't rush into any decision that wouldn't be good for you. Most importantly of all, you have God in your relationship, and you can't really ever go wrong if you keep him in your life and a part of your life decisions." Sigh... I love my mommy!
I know someday when I am in the grocery store or library I will get that comment, "Are all these kids yours?!" I hope I am able to be a good witness instead of biting their heads off (or going off and crying....)
This wondering probably doesn't have any good particular answer. It's something I know I will have to deal with in the future. God grant me patience!
We have a general idea but have decided not to make any final decisions until we see our baby in person. Maybe then we will feel confident in our decision.
I have thought of what I would name my future children since I was a child. I kept diaries way back then and I had a list of names. One of them was Miranda Lauren- where I got that name, I have no clue!
Since I've become an adult and family and friends I am close have started having babies I began to seriously consider what I would name our future children. The problem is I love so many names. My mom often says I am going to have to either have 20 children or 20 pets to accommodate all the names I really love.
But now the time has come to really decide what name to use, and it is so much harder than I thought. You'd think that since I like so many names it would be easy- but this is the real deal. This isn't just imagining and daydreaming. What I name this child is what he will be stuck with for the rest of his life. Talk about pressure! :-)
I love traditional/Christian names. That's probably a good thing since I also love using family names. I know some people don't like traditional names because they are so common and/or overused. I don't really buy into that. I could name by boy John or Mike or Bill and he will still be unique. He won't be like all the other Johns, Mikes, and Bills out there- trust me!
I find it so interesting in people's views on naming children. Some people are adamant about NOT using family names. Some insist on unique spellings. Some have certain patterns they follow. I just want my son's name to mean something special. I was named after my grandmother because I was born on her birthday. But in some ways I want to use a first name that is not a family name but use a family name as a middle name (does that make sense?)
I'm not too worried about the baby name game. This child will get a name sooner or later and I know it will fit him perfectly!
Just for fun- do you have any suggestions for our baby boy?
I have a lot of stuff to do today. Tomorrow we leave for my family reunion- in a tiny town called Tightwad. (Yes, there really is such a town!) My family easily doubles the population of the village. We usually have some sort of theme for our reunions. We've had "The Year of the Chicken", "10 Years in Tightwad", and have celebrated St. Patrick's Day in July and Christmas in July. This year we're going with the holiday spirit and doing Halloween in July! I can't wait to show you my costume! I'm in charge of the activities this year. Hopefully, with being 7 months pregnant and in the middle of moving and unpacking I will have done a decent job with planning.
So my Wondering Wednesday thought for the day- why on earth would you name a town "Tightwad"?
I'm trying to set up a Mr. Linky widget so those who wish to participate in Wondering Wednesday's can be linked. Alas, I can't figure it out and the projects I am supposed to be working on instead of blogging are staring straight at me. So far Joy has posted a Wondering Wednesday. I'll check back in periodically and if anyone else that I see in my reader has also posted a WW, I'll link you here, if you would like!
I hope everyone has a great rest of the week and a wonderful weekend!
I am wondering how far I would really go to open a can of spaghettios when the only can opener we own is packed away at our new house.
I'm also wondering how long it would have taken for me to chop off my fingers if I would have continued chopping away at the can lid.
I invite you to write about your own wonderings/ponderings. They can be silly (like this one) or serious. Half the time I just write my wondering Wednesday posts to flesh out my thoughts that I have bumping around in my noggin. In some posts I do look for feedback (not on this one, obviously. Unless you want to share your own story of how to open things when you don't have the right tools!) Elizabeth from That Married Couple and the gentlemen at Defend Us In Battle have started their own Wondering Wednesday posts. Feel free to join us!
Here are the tools I tried to get the can open!
I decided to stop stabbing the can for fear I would chop my fingers off!
My dog had a Wondering Wednesday of his own- "I wonder what the heck she is doing!!!"
Most of my Wondering Wednesday posts are long ponderings. Sure, they are subjects I "wonder" about, but a majority of the wonderings are questions/fears/anxieties that cannot be answered at the present time.
Today my wonderings I believe are a bit more answerable. Maybe y'all can help me out!
#1. My husband and I went to Saturday evening Mass this past weekend. While the priest was walking over to read the Gospel, Ryan leaned over to me to inform me that he was going to use the rest room when the homily began. This is a tiny little church, so if you need to use the rest room you have to exit the church, walk across the lawn and go into a side entrance of the rectory. Ryan returned a little sooner than I thought he would. "The door was locked to the rectory," he whispered in a bit of a panic.
He started doing the "gotta pee knee jiggle." I put my hand on his knee and out of habit I said, "Offer it up." He stopped and stared off into the distance for a second then whispered, "What does that mean exactly?" Then it was my turn to stare off into the distance and wonder. I wasn't really sure what that meant! I just shrugged my shoulders and went on to listen to the homily.
While driving home I was wondering what "offer it up" means. Does it mean to offer up your pains and sufferings for the release of the poor souls in purgatory? Or does it mean to offer up your pains to be united with the pains that Christ suffered on the cross. Perhaps it can mean both? I really don't know!
#2. This is something I've been wondering since I was pregnant with our Baby Gus. When I receive Jesus in the Eucharist, does the grace affect the soul of the unborn baby inside me? I thought for sure it does.
But then I started thinking technically. To receive their First Communion a child must be baptized. There's obviously no way to baptize a baby in the womb. There is the baptism of desire, but isn't the reserved for babies who pass away before they are born or in infancy? But I'm not wanting to go that route.
I'm just thinking in simple terms. My body is a home to two souls; my own and the soul of my son. (That just blows my mind!) Surely God's infinite grace and love affects the soul of my baby when I receive the Body of Christ. Maybe I'm just being naive and my mind-set is of the fairy dust theology kind. But whenever I pray for my unborn son I pray that he grows healthy and happy in both body and soul. There might be some strict theological teaching regarding this, but I have too much on my plate right now to figure it out.
I just think it's a nice thought to think that my baby's soul is being nourished by Christ while still floating away in my womb.
Today I am wondering- can we afford for me to be a stay at home mom?
I want to be a stay a home mommy to as many kids as God wants to give us. I want this with every fiber of my being. While growing up I had many career dreams- teacher, actress, and Olympic swimmer. When I got out of high school my career dreams were half-hearted. As I got older and my heart longed to be a part of a good marriage and to have children of my own, my dreams turned from career to devoting my life to my husband and growing family.
***And as a side note, I'm not saying that being a working mom is a bad thing. I think it is important to have mothers present in the workforce. So please don't comment, "You know if you have to work, it wouldn't be a bad thing." I know it wouldn't... but I feel in my heart that I belong at home. This isn't a post about stay at home vs. working moms.***
***Another side note- I do hope to supplement my husband's income somehow. I would love to be a free-lance writer, but lack the confidence at the present time.***
I look at other stay at home moms (SAHM) and my heart swells with admiration. I know being a SAHM isn't easy- you are by yourself taking care of the children and household. You have very little contact with grown ups. You are under appreciated. But I'm willing to take on those challenges. I know the rewards will be worth it.
But then... what really gets me down... is finances. I look at other SAHM's and see that their husbands have fairly good jobs. Farmers, lawyers, doctors, college professors... I know that no matter what job one has, if a couple cuts down to one income there will be financial strain. There will be budgeting. But a SAHM with a doctor as a husband might have an easier time with finances than a SAHM with a janitor as a husband. Perhaps I am wrong.
I am so proud of what my husband does. He loves his job. He works with troubled youth. He helps them to help themselves to rebuild their lives in a positive way. He works long, odd hours and has to deal with the frustrations of working with boys that don't want to change, or who do change for the better only to fall back into their old habits and come back to the facility. But he and everyone else says that the youth counselors are extremely underpaid. It makes me wonder if we will be able to afford for me to stay at home if he stays at this job. I have always believed that it is more important to be at a job you love rather than a job you hate, but make more money. I stand by that belief.
Then I feel an overwhelming sense pressure from family, friends and society about finances and having a big family. I feel like people look at my dreams of being a SAHM and think, "Yeah right, like that will ever happen." I see them look at my husband and me and think, "But I want them to be financially stable." When I announced my first pregnancy, someone I love very much said immediately, "How can you afford a baby right now?" I was devastated. When I talk about having a bunch of kids I've had other people I love very much say, "But that just might not be realistic. I don't want you to worry about money."
I know these people think/say these things only because they love us. They want what is best for us, and for that I am deeply appreciative. But it has planted seeds of doubt. Maybe we won't be able to afford for me to stay at home. I know this sounds dramatic, but if I have to go to work and leave my children with a stranger I will be crushed. For those women who have to work when they want to stay at home with their kids... my goodness.. I have HUGE admiration for you.
I get a little jealous of those people who get to vacation all the time. Who get to experience the excitement of buying their very own home. To get brand new matching furniture. Who get to remodel or build a home. Who get to go out to eat and shop all the time. Who get to buy their kids cute clothes. Who can buy a new car whenever they want.
But I know, in the end, that sacrificing those things to have children and stay at home with them will be worth it. I grew up without those things and I had an awesome childhood. I had garage sale toys and hand me down clothes. We had mismatched furniture and a porch that was on the verge of falling apart. But I was happy, safe and loved.
My mom grew up in a family of seven kids and the stories of them all growing up together make my heart smile. My grandparents were poor; however, they still had a happy home. (When I look to them as an example, I know there are people saying, "But that was a different time." Blah...) A sibling is a gift. A vacation will last a couple days, but a sibling will last forever. When Ryan and I are long gone our children will have each other. That's why when I saw this snack commercial on Faith and Family Live I bawled my preggo eyes out:
Like I said, the sacrifices will be worth it. I know God is trying to ease my burden by sending me little signs that being a SAHM with a large family is possible. In the last week I've read two awesome articles on Faith and Family (I love that website!) One is about how large families are environmentally friendly, and the other is finding joy when you don't have a lot of fancy things. (I highly recommend reading them.) Reading these have brought me comfort and peace.
I know having a newborn isn't that expensive. They don't need a whole lot of stuff. But what happens when we have another baby, then another... then another? That's going to add up. Our insurance will go up, our food bills, etc. Ryan and I may be making a big life decision in the next few months to move, but it may be to a town where rent is much higher. Will we be able to handle it? What about Catholic education? To be honest, not sending our kids to Catholic schools has never been an issue with me, but I know it is important to Ryan.
I feel spiritually drained and I feel I'm not praying hard enough for God to send us guidance. I wish He'd FedEx me a manual of how to budget, where we need to move, what we need to invest in, etc.
But as much as I am worrying, I know everything will turn out fine. Maybe someday, when Ryan and I are 80 and we live in our own home in the country and all our grown up children and grandchildren are gathered around us, we can start off stories of how we first started out our marriage and parenting being "poor as church mice." God has taken care of us so far, and I know He won't stop, no matter how much it feels like He's ignoring us. Our family, friends and even strangers have helped us out in ways that we can never repay. I know we have family and friends and blogging buddies that pray for us as well.
I just wonder when the doubt will fizzle away and knowing what God wants of us will come SOON!
Sometimes the weirdest thoughts pop into my head. They aren't theologically significant, just kind of silly (OK... very silly.) There are other times that my husband likes to ruffle my theological-undergraduate-degree feathers and pick silly arguments which makes me wonder even more about the weird theological thoughts. (This first paragraph makes me sound crazy... I know. Just bear with me.)
For example, my husband likes to walk out onto our spider-infested deck without any shoes.
"Just put your flip flops on... I don't want you to get bitten by a brown-recluse and complain for 3 weeks."
"I don't need shoes! Jesus didn't wear shoes, why should I?"
Then I get into a dither (what's a dither anyway?) "What are you talking about?! Jesus wore shoes- sandals actually. It's right there in the Bible! John the Baptist says, 'After me comes he who is mightier than I, the thong of whose sandals I am not worthy to stoop down and untie.' (Mark 1:7) Besides, Jesus did A LOT of walking. You really think he would walk all over Palestine bare-foot?" Wife: 1 Husband: 0
"But Jesus is GOD. He walked on water, rose from the dead... you really think a few rocks in his feet would bother Him?" D'OH! Husband, you have a good point...
"BUT He is still a human being!" Victory shall be mine!
"OK, OK. Well, if He were preaching today, he wouldn't walk. He'd drive barefoot in a 1967 Volkswagon bus." Wait.... what?!
"JESUS WASN'T A HIPPIE! Sure, he was counter-cultural and went against government authority. But He wasn't some Rolling Stones groupie, pot-smoking, guitar pickin' flower child!"
I see my husband on the verge of laughter, with that pain-in-the-who-know-what glee in his eye. He's just trying to egg me on. He's good at that.
Then we started a discussion of what Jesus would wear if He were alive on earth today. No, I don't think he would wear a tuxedo t-shirt... although Ryan thinks that would be hilarious. I think Jesus would have much more class than that. I think he wouldn't wear anything too fancy. He helps the poor, so no suits or ties. I don't really picture him in a polo and khakis either. Maybe some nice jeans and a plain white t-shirt. With some sort of shoes.
But He is Jesus... maybe He would wear something a little more sophisticated. I don't know.. I still picture him with his long hair and beard though. "Yeah, his hippie beard!" my husband says mischievously. I ignore him.
Afterwards we started having a silly discussion of wondering what Jesus' occupation (pre-public ministry, of course) would be if He were alive today. Ryan suggests radio D.J. I can't imagine Jesus in the studio saying in that fake Ryan Seacrest-like voice, "Alright, alright, helllllloooo mankind! We got Jesus C. in the house ready to send you on your morning commute by rockin' you down the interstate!"
No, no... that's not right at all.
I can see him as doctor. He did heal people after all. He'd be the coolest doctor. He'd put his patients at ease. I can also see him as a college professor. He was a dynamic public speaker and taught to thousands. I wonder how tough a grader He would be. No one would fall asleep during his lectures. (I never once did that in college..) Maybe he'd be a police officer and rid the streets of evil-doers... just like he cast out demons. Perhaps he'd own his own winery.... he does make some tasty wine according to the Bible.
I do NOT see Jesus as a professional soccer player. You know those pictures of Jesus playing soccer with a bunch of kids? They just weird me out.
But what I can picture Jesus REALLY doing... is doing what he did thousands of years ago before his public ministry- carpentry. Working with your hands, building something out of nothing- what a noble profession.
No matter how He dresses or what His occupation would be, He'd still be loving and almighty. The more I think about it.. the more I fall in love with Christ. He's pretty awesome.
My brother just texted me with a question: "Do you think Jesus had allergies?"
A couple weeks ago I wrote a post about my hopes for my children. In that post I had mentioned that my worries of what kind of parent I will be hadn't crept up yet. Well that time has come and these worries have reared their ugly heads!!!
Last night while waiting to drift of to sleep I was day dreaming about my baby. Even before I got pregnant I've spent hours day dreaming about life with children and the joys of motherhood. Here's how my daydreams went pre-pregnancy:
As a baby I would cherish the moments of breastfeeding and noting every little milestone. (Did she just fart and smile?! I think that's the first time she's done that! Gotta mark that one down in the baby book!) I would dress her up everywhere we go!
Moving along a few months... I'd giggle at her attempts to walk, looking like a little drunk person. But my heart would swell with pride when she mastered that skill. I might just tell everyone I see that my precious baby can walk! I would cherish the Disney moments, the the Matchbox cars, the sippy cups.
Now to the pre-school and elementary years. I would be that loud mom in the stands at little league games and definitely help out with all the holiday parties at school. I would bring the video camera to every single event- spelling bees, ball games, recitals, church events, maybe even a doctor's appointment or two!
When my children entered high school I would prepare myself for all the milestones. Getting their license, proms, graduation, first dates. I would go to the sports events, music concerts, theatrical productions and honor society events.
Usually my day dreams would taper off at that point. I've thought about what our children would be like as adults a couple times, but I don't want to age my kids too fast- even in day dream land!
Now that I am pregnant, my daydreams from birth to junior-high-ish age are basically the same as they were pre-pregnancy. But last night... oh boy. I don't know if it's wacky pregnancy hormones that caused the freak out, or my own silly personality, but I was wide-eyed and clutching the sheets when I should have been fast asleep.
My husband was trying to drift to sleep. I tapped him on the shoulder. He grunted at me, meaning he was still awake, but barely.
"What if our child turns into an ax-murderer?"
"What?!" He asked as he turned towards me.
"What if I totally screw up these kids? What if I'm too overbearing and strict? What if I'm too laid-back? What if they end up on the Dr. Phil show because of me? I mean I know that our children have free-will and they are free to choose their own path as adults, but what if it's because of my parenting choices cause them to turn away from God, to have no compassion for human life, to become raging arsonists and are on the 10:00 news?!"
Ryan tried to comfort me, but I wasn't listening. I had turned my precious baby who is swimming peacefully and happy in my womb to some tattooed, purple-haired psycho killer.
How did I get to that point?
Like I said, my daydreams up until the jr. high years are the same as they were before pregnancy. But when I entered the high school years, I started thinking about what I was like as a teenager.
Now, for the most part I was a good kid. I was President of the student council, voted into National Honor Society, involved in sports, and was active in pretty much every extra-curricular activity I could be in. I never did drugs or drank alcohol. I never got into legal trouble, although that doesn't mean I didn't do illegal things (usually involving driving or trespassing old abandoned houses... ) I did some wild and crazy dare-devil things. My guardian angel was DEFINITELY looking out for me, because there are some times I wonder how I ever survived or didn't go to jail during my teenage years.
And boy was I a brat to my mother. I remember numerous times thinking, "Gosh, why can't my mom be like, cool? She never lets me do ANYTHING! She's like, totally lame! She's ruining my life!!!" I screamed at her a lot and slammed a lot of doors. I stomped my feet and swore that when I grew up I'd be a "cool" mom. What if my own daughter is like that? I can't handle it! If I know that she's out doing the things I was doing at age 16... no, no... I can't even think it!
And as much as I complained about my mom, I was actually very lucky. She had the perfect balance of being strict and letting me learn my own lessons. But what if I don't have that balance? What if I'm so strict they become rebels? What if I'm so laid back that they STILL become rebels? What if they leave the Church because I pushed them too hard to be holy kids? What if they turn away from God because I wasn't a good example of what a Christian person should be? What if they stop calling me "Mom" and start calling me "Parental Unit"? What if they get caught up in the Mexican drug cartel? What if they start worshipping trees, live in a dirt home with no electricity and change their name to Rainbow MeadowStarr?
No matter what my child becomes I will love them unconditionally. Their choices are theirs. They will make mistakes. I can't control everything. God lets us make mistakes and go our own ways and he loves us no matter what. Now that I think about it...humanity is just a bunch of bratty teenagers! As a parent I will mirror God's love for us.
But I'm still freaked out that I will screw up my kids and they'll hate me.
I talked to Ryan this morning about my freak out again. He jokingly said, "That's why we're having a bunch of kids! So if one hates us, we have a spare somewhere in there that is certain to like us!"
I almost called my mom at 1:00 a.m. to tell her my freak-out, but didn't. I talked to her today and she says I need to get a hobby.
I know y'all think this freak-out is silly. And the more I've thought about it, and read back this post, I know that it is silly! I know I will find a balance, Ryan will help and support me, God's Will will be done, I will have help with parenting from family and friends, and more than likely my children won't turn into ax murderers.
So this Wondering Wednesday I'm wondering how I can skip the ages of 13-22 of my children, or at least how to survive, and what hobby I should take up to keep all these worries and freak-outs away!
Today I am wondering at what point do you stop "turning the other cheek" and take a stand for yourself?
I understand what Jesus meant by turning the other cheek. And I do understand that we should always forgive someone for doing us wrong, no matter what action, word, or deed they have done.
I know Jesus didn't mean to stand by and take abuse constantly. There are such things as just anger and just wars.
If a loved one says mean and hurtful things towards me, I always give them the benefit of the doubt. I think, "They were just kidding around. I'm too sensitive and reading too much into their words. Maybe they are having a bad day."
I usually never say anything because I give them the benefit of the doubt, plus sometimes it's just better to leave it alone. I just ignore it because I don't want to cause any drama.
However, due to pesky Original Sin sometimes when someone says something mean to me (or toward someone I care about for that matter) I want to really tell them what I think. I want to insult, I want to make fun, I want to point out their faults, their hypocrisies and bad habits. I want to yell, curse and belittle.
But I don't. My mother always told me that if I don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.
Then I wonder, if those people keep saying/writing these hurtful comments and are constantly hurting my feelings, shouldn't I politely and in a mature-manner stand up for myself? "Maybe they don't know how much they hurt my feelings." I'll think, so I'll plan to tell them next time (I usually always chicken out or don't articulate myself well) or I'll email them letting them know how I feel.
But telling how I feel can backfire as well. It will start a conflict. I'll lose a friend or a close relationship with a relative. They will think I'm too sensitive. They will think they have a right to say whatever they want.
So this Wednesday I wonder where to draw the line between shutting up and standing up.
Many people have different reasons or events for their conversion or reversion to Christianity. My reversion back to the Catholic Church was due to my Uncle Dave's death. He was such a holy and devout man that there is no doubt that he is in heaven. If he did go to purgatory it was for a short pit stop.
The thought of someone I was very close to being in the eternal glory of heaven just blew my mind. I mean Uncle Dave was in the same company as the angels, the saints, his mother who had passed away 40 years before, and um, JESUS! I mean the fact that he was face-to-face with our Savior and the Blessed Virgin made me SO incredibly happy for him.
He was in eternal happiness. No more tears, sadness, anger, or worry. At this point of my life, tears, sadness, anger and worry were running rampant. I didn't want all that negative energy so I knew that if I wanted to someday be eternally happy I would need to change my sinful way of living.
So I did.
Heaven is often on my mind. I read a wonderful book a couple years ago called "A Travel Guide to Heaven" by Anthony DeStefano. He used the Bible and other Church teachings to speculate on what heaven would be like. His images are stuck in my head often when I think about heaven. I also get excited when I read all the lovely images of the Kingdom of God in Holy Scripture.
I wonder what heaven will be like if I am lucky enough for the Lord to say to me at the time of my death, "Well done, good and faithful servant. Come and share your master's happiness!"
The first thing I wonder about is how I will react when I see Jesus face-to-face. Sure I'll drop to my knees in praise. I think I will shake uncontrollably with nervousness. I would be shaking like a leaf if I met someone famous and holy like the Pope...just imagine my nervousness when I meet the Son of God- the Alpha and the Omega- the creator of the universe!!! I will probably bawl my little eyes out in awe and wonder at meeting my Savior. Will He come to embrace me? I think I'd faint...
I wonder if the whole "life flashing before your eyes" thing is true. My husband and I were talking about this the other day. Would we relive our life through our own eyes or be looking down on it all? I know one thing for sure- there are some points in my life that I would love to fast forward through. I know I will bury my head in shame during certain points.
I wonder which relative I will see first, or will they all come to greet me at once? Will it be my grandmother, whom I am named after? Will it be my Uncle Dave or Uncle Mick, whose deaths caused me to embrace Christ? Or will it be some ancestor?
I wonder what it will be like to walk around Heaven and see Adam and Eve, Moses and John the Baptist. "Oh look, there's George Washington!" Maybe St. Cecilia (my patron saint) will mosey on over to hang out with me. Oh. how. COOL!
I wonder what it will be like to meet our guardian angels. They have been with us from the moment of our conception and have protected us from more harm and evil than we will probably ever know! Will we hear the beautiful angel choirs? I've heard some tear-jerking choirs in my time... can you imagine how beautiful the singing will be in heaven?
You know that amazing, fulfilling, peaceful feeling you get after an amazing Mass or Eucharistic adoration? We all know that Mass in heaven on earth... but in heaven those feelings will not be "feelings." They will be a way of living every single second of our heavenly existence.
When we receive our glorified bodies, what will life in heaven be like then? Often heaven is described as a banquet, a feast. Just imagine the joy, the laughter, the music, the smiles... the food! I realize we won't really need to eat in heaven, but I can't imagine there not being food there. The yummiest, most scrumptious meal we've ever had on earth won't compare to God's cooking!
With our glorified bodies will we be able to fly? To see colors we've never seen before? Will we all be able to sing? Will we all be able to create amazing pieces of art? Will I be 5'5" instead of 5'0"? :-)
I remember once when I was in elementary school a friend of mine said that in heaven, all we would be doing is bowing down in worship. I remember being really bummed out and thinking, "Who would want to go to heaven if that's all you do?" I've come to realize that we will be worshipping God in every moment while in heaven- by loving, by being happy, by actually being with Him, and by living our life the way it was always meant to be lived.
Today I am wondering... WHY, oh, WHY is it still snowing?!
This winter (even though winter officially started less than a month ago!) has been crazy! It snows a ton. A week goes by with bitter-cold temperatures that don't allow any melting. Then more snow. Then more...and more and more and more!
Remember when we were children when we would do a happy dance when it snowed like this? When I was little we lived next to the Catholic Church parking lot and when they would come to plow, the snow was pushed to the sides and became my own little mountain range. I would build tunnels and sled down the little hills for hours. I guess being a kid makes one semi-immune from becoming mind numbingly cold!
I also remember being enchanted by the snow. Actually, I still am mesmerized by all the sparkly little flakes that fall from the sky. Today my mother walked out on her front porch and snapped the above photo. I might complain about snow now, but I still think it's pretty.
In high school we lived at the bottom of a very large hill. At the top of the hill was the United Presbyterian church. This hill (named U.P. Hill after the church) was the place to go to sled for the kids in my hometown. I rarely went sledding on U.P. Hill but if I looked out the window and saw kids slide past our house on a Tuesday at 1:00 p.m. that was a very grand thing because that meant school had been cancelled. That meant I could sleep in and be my usual hibernating teen-age self.
I remember those early years and seeing the stress on my mom's face about the treacherous drive to work or even the couple blocks to the grocery store. I always thought she needed to "chill out." (No pun intended...) That was... until I started to drive.
Yesterday when I went to my in-laws house to wait for my husband's arrival back to Missouri, I ended up driving in rush hour. The roads were slick. People were driving like maniacs. My heart was racing. I was freaking out. Rush hour in my hometown was when a little old lady was driving too slow and you were 3 cars behind her. Or maybe a tractor was on the highway. Needless to say I was white-knuckled and praying a lot of Hail Mary's.
Then there was the ice-covered hill to get up to his parent's house. I shot up a quick prayer and gave my husband's truck a pep talk. "C'mon ol' Blue! (his truck is the color blue in case you hadn't figured that one out!) You can DO this! Let's go Blue...c'mon baby..." I crept up the hill and made it into the driveway with no problems!
I then gave a thank-you prayer to God, sent a silent thank you to the inventor of 4-wheel drive, and then thought back to the days when snow was fun.
My wondering Wednesday thought for today: Why do I get all bummed out when I find out I've been "unfriended" on Facebook or when someone "un-follows" my blog?
Which leads me to re-think of why I started a Facebook account and this blog in the first place.
"Unfriend" was named the Word of the Year by the New Oxford American Dictionary last November. Unfriend means to remove someone as a "friend" on Facebook or other social networking site.
I'll be browsing Facebook and look at the corner where Facebook annoyingly suggests a friend. "Add Jane Doe as a friend- you have 35 friends in common." I'll think, "Wait a minute...we are already friends! We took a lit class together! Sure, we only had a handful of conversations but I know we are friends because I've looked at her hilarious youth group retreat pictures!"
I'll click on her name and there she is- all her info she once shared with me has poofed into private cyberspace and there's the rectangular block that says "Add as Friend." She had unfriended me.
But why? Did I say something inappropriate on my status? Am I not interesting? What did I do wrong? But then my common sense comes slowly flowing back to me. Um, hello Maggie- you barely knew each other! You weren't really "friends." Having your feelings hurt over this is simply foolish. She is smart in not sharing her info with everybody. My overly-sensitive nature has really screwed up my reasoning!
I started my blog in September, so I am still a blogging newbie. I started it as a way to sort out my thoughts regarding married life, religion and life in general. But soon after I started it I found myself getting caught up on how many comments I received or how many followers I got. Whenever I saw that someone new started following me I'd do a little mental happy dance. I'd start watching my SiteMeter closely- to see how many "hits" my blog was getting. My heart would soar when I noticed that many had visited. If the numbers didn't move much I just assumed I had written a boring post that day.
I have a small number of followers who I appreciate very much. A couple days ago I noticed that I had "lost" a follower. I have a couple of friends who are atheists that are following my blog and I very much admire them and are thankful that they are reading my words that contain a lot of God in them. When I noticed I was down one follower my heart was saddened because I thought one of them got too annoyed with my spirituality talk and unfollowed. But they are still there as followers. Since I have a small number of followers I quickly realized who it was...someone who had just recently started following me.
Again, just like with the gal who unfriended me on Facebook I started racking my brain for what I could have done to chase this person away. Was it due to a comment confusion? Do I have a boring blog? Did I say something wrong?
Again, I need to get a grip. Just because I have a certain number of followers doesn't mean they actually read my posts. Perhaps my type of blog wasn't what this person was wanting to read. Perhaps they wanted to read more of apologetics or news in the Church. This person did nothing wrong by unfollowing. Then why am I making such a big deal about it? (Stupid Original Sin messing with my emotions and intellect...)
My brother started his blog earlier this year and has a good number of followers and has been linked to New Advent and even Danielle Bean. (Here is where I insert my twinge of jealousy.) My inner three year old throws a temper tantrum and wants to be like him. We tease and joke with each other about our "competition" but I must count my blessings because it has brought us even closer together.
So I have to step back and think about why I am on Facebook and why I started this blog. I'm on Facebook to keep in touch with family and friends. I'm on there to keep in contact with friends that I haven't seen in years. I'm on Facebook to get to know my new friends.
I blog because I love to write. I blog so I can encourage others. Some days I look at my ho-hum boring life and rack my brain for something interesting to write about, but it gives me something to pass the time. But both Facebook and blogging are evangelical tools...and ways to proclaim the Gospel without shoving it down people's throats. Nobody likes that. But I've found myself editing my own writing. I don't want to write about anything that will make people mad or upset. I shouldn't be afraid.
It's not about how many comments someone gets with their Facebook status or with an intriguing blog post. It's not about how many "hits" my blog can get. It's about reaching out to others to help, encourage and inspire. Sometimes it's just about sorting out my own thoughts to help myself. I am so thankful for all the people I have met in the blog-o-sphere. I have met kindred spirits, women who I aspire to be like someday, and brilliant apologists.
Welcome to the second volume of Wondering Wednesdays! So often when I pray, meditate or daydream all these pondering thoughts pop in my head. So I'd like to share my ponderings with you!
1.
Where did the word "BOO" come from? I thought about this while watching football this past weekend. People boo when they get mad at refs or other players. Why? People yell "Boo!" to scare one another. What's up with that? And now boo is used to mean girlfriend or boyfriend. Weird....
2.
The Annunciation has been on my mind lately. Not just because we're in Advent, but because while praying the rosary this mystery is number one in the Joyful set. While praying those ten beads a plethora of ponderings pop up.
First of all, I love the above picture. It is called "The Annunciation" by Henry Ossawa Tanner. There are hundreds of paintings depicting the moment Mary received news from the angel Gabriel that she would bear the Son of God. This painting is my favorite because it seems so real. Other paintings show the Annunciation as Mary dressed like a forty-year-old Renaissance queen in the 1600's. These paintings of course are beautiful, but just seem to lack something. I wonder where Mary was when Gabriel appeared to her. Was she outside working in the fields as the movie The Nativity Story portrays? Was it while she was praying? Was it while she was fast asleep?
The other thing that boggles my mind was that Mary was so very young when she was told this miraculous news. I've heard she was between the ages of 13-16. Now I understand Mary's culture was very different than ours today. It was common for Jewish girls to get married at such a young age. However when I try and put myself in Mary's shoes- how would I at age fourteen have acted if an angel came to me telling me I was going to bear the long awaited Messiah? To see how my fourteen year old self was thinking at that time I pulled out my very private diary. I read over some entries, and let me tell you- I laughed A LOT. Life seemed so "horrible" back then! Here's a little taste.
Dear Diary,
Tomorrow is my first track meet with the hurdles. I'm so scared! I don't want to fall and look stupid! God help me! I got my math test back today. 94%- I'm kinda bummed. (Wow the perfectionist in me was alive and well even back then!) Matt walked by me today in the hall and smiled at me!! During track practice he came over and talked to me and asked if I wanted to sit by him on the bus tomorrow!!!!!!!! I'm so happy!!! Nicky saw Matt and I talked and she looked mad. I don't want to make her mad! What do I do?
Wow. Thoughts of getting married and starting a family were not my primary focus like they were for young Jewish women. But even though it was common for Jewish girls to get married so young were they psychologically ready for that? I don't think I could have handled the extra "drama" of an angel coming to me announcing I was to be the Mother of God. :-) Makes me respect the Virgin Mary even more. She said "yes" to the will of God at such a young age. And God's request to Mary was a HUGE one. Becoming pregnant with God even though she had not been with any man.... wow. And yes, I know that she was born without Original Sin, but still! She was human and young. My fallen nature made my teenage years a little bit difficult! :-)
Last Sunday my older brother called me up to ask if I wanted to volunteer as a "night angel" for this weekend's National Catholic Youth Conference held in Kansas City, MO- my neck of the woods(ish). Basically some other adults and I will patrol the halls all night to make sure the teens have their lights out and don't go gallavanting around after hours. Because of this I'm kind of preparing my body for a disruption in my sleep schedule by staying up later than normal. Since I cut caffeine out of my diet I should have expected that drinking three Dr. Peppers tonight would have me WIRED at 3:00 a.m. So I suppose since I'll blog now instead of later when I wake up (which will probably be late in the afternoon!)
I'm sure some other clever blogger has thought of these kinds of posts. However, I'd like to start my own "Wondering Wednesday" posts because so often when I daydream/pray/meditate all these pondering thoughts pop in my head. So I'd like to share my ponderings with you. Some weeks they will be deep and theological, other times they will be just plain silly everyday wonderings. I've already rambled on enough, so here I go.
#1.
I wonder what the disciples thought when they saw Jesus ascending into heaven. I wonder what it looked like. The accounts in scripture and in art depict Christ being raised bodily into heaven. You know when someone lets a helium balloon go and it floats slowly higher and higher and higher in the sky and it becomes smaller and smaller until the tiny dot of a balloon disappears? Was that what His ascension looked like to the disciples? What were they feeling? Amazement, I'm sure. They had seen their Lord defy the laws of nature, and here He did it again. I'm sure they felt sorrow as well. Jesus had been ripped away from them so violently and I'm sure when He appeared to them afterwards in His resurrected body they were so happy to have him "back." He was their teacher and leader. And with the ascension he was gone bodily again, so did they again feel sadness and fear that Jesus wasn't there to guide them? What were those nine days like before Pentecost when they felt their Lord with them again in the form of the third person of the Trinity? They must have had tremendous faith and courage to overcome their fears and sadness.
#2
What did Jesus' laugh sound like? I know this sounds kind of silly. In the Bible we read of some of Christ's emotions (death of Lazarus, agony in the Garden) but the writing styles of the early Church weren't written like novels or biographies that go into great detail of what people are feeling emotionally. Even in most art Jesus is pictured in a very noble and serious manner. I bet Jesus had the most warm and gentle smile and a hearty laugh. I wonder if He ever joked around. I love the flashback scene in The Passion of the Christ where it shows Jesus joking around with His mother (respectfully of course!) It shows the human side of Jesus. He's not some strange spiritual entity that is foreign to us. He lived, breathed, ate, drank, suffered, slept, enjoyed wedding feasts, worked, taught- just like we do or will do in our lifetime. We can relate to Him. Yeah...I bet Jesus had a great laugh!
I was going to write three of these do-dads; but, alas, sleepiness has crept up on me. I know that maybe these aren't too enlightening or brilliant, and I'm sure some seasoned theologian could run circles around my "ponderings." But these are my wonderings for the week!
Today I am wondering what Jesus was like as a baby.
My wondering Wednesday thought for today: Why do I get all bummed out when I find out I've been "unfriended" on Facebook or when someone "un-follows" my blog?
