Marriage on Fire

I am sitting on the floor in front of our wood burning stove enjoying the warmth.  Its a cold, wet day and the house has a chill.  We heat our home with the wood stove, and so sitting here I am getting the first of the warmth that is sure to spread throughout the house.  My husband has been working odd hours for a few years now and so the bulk of the fire duty falls to me.  At first this was exciting.  I would trample through the snow and wind to the wood pile, gathering an armful and then trudge back to house, convinced I would have made a great pioneer or first settler.  Then I'd build a great fire and be pleased with my pyromania prowess.  But sometimes its not that easy to get a roaring fire going.  I think of these things as I stare at the flames.  This fire stove always gives me something to ponder.

Tonight it has me musing on marriage.

Marriage is a lot like this fire. 

To get the fire burning strong, it takes a lot of tending.  It takes care and attention.  So does a strong marriage. 

The fire won't build itself, and left too long alone it will burn itself out.  So will a marriage.

Sometimes just one piece of wet wood, or rotted log can ruin a strong burn.  Similarly, resentment and misunderstandings can rot a marriage, ruining its flame.

I have noticed that when the wood is wet, when its not perfect, when it hasn't been seasoned, the fire needs MORE tending and MORE attention.  This is true for marriage.  When you hit the "for worse" (and everyone does)  this is when you need to work even harder on your marriage.  Its when you tend to each other and each other's needs even more.  Its the only way to grow strong again - my fire taught me that.

Sometimes I am fooled when I look at the blaze in the stove. It seems so strong and so steady.  So I ignore it.  I get distracted, and assume its OK.  Soon it is barely a smoldering pile of ash, and it takes even more work to build it back up again.  So too with marriage.  We have a tendency to take our spouse and our marriage for granted when things are going well, when we feel strong.  But this allows for inattention and inattentiveness.  Before long, we are in a bad place and our marriage needs even more work than it did before. 

Don't let the flames go out! 

image citation

Sometimes despite my best efforts, the fire is slow to catch and difficult to burn.  But I tend to it anyway.  I can't give up!  My family relies on the heat from the fire!  I can't let them freeze and I can't let them down!  Marriage isn't always a fairy tale.  In fact it hardly ever is.  Instead some marriages are difficult.  They require extra tending and care, and sometimes despite the best efforts of one or both spouses, the marriage is slow to grow strong.  Don't give up!  Just as my difficult, slow to burn fire will eventually become a strong blaze, so will a marriage that is difficult - with enough work, enough patience and tending. 

Some things will put out a fire immediately.  Throw water on a fire of any size and it will go out,  The wet ash will also make it impossible to start a new one.  The old, wet ash must be shoveled out and a new fire started.  Some things are like water to flame in a marriage:  infidelity, bitterness, total neglect, and disrespect will put out the flames completely.  A marriage dampened under one of these will take a lot of time and care to rebuild.  A lot of "shoveling" and soul searching and trust building has to take place first.   But just as a fire can be rebuilt, so can a marriage. 

I stare at the fire.  It is burning well now.  A solid, strong, steady burn.   I could keep this fire burning for days, weeks, even years if I give it the right amount of attention, the right amount of patience and the right amount of tending. Despite the setbacks, the damp wood, the distractions and the wrong assumptions I might make about this blaze, I can see that what it needs is perseverance, patience, care, and attention to keep burning.  Very much like a marriage.....



**This post is dedicated to my cousins, Caitlin Cardona and Kimberly Sharkey, who are both preparing to start "fires" of their own. <3 **

Lent and Little Ones

Its just me and the little man.  Awake. At 12:14am.  So I guess Lent has officially started.  Since I am awake and musing about what the next 40 days have in store I thought I would muse out loud, well, in cyberprint anyway! 

The kids and I had a few chances to talk about Lent and what its all about today as we ran our errands.  I am excited that the older two are old enough to remember "traditions."  For instance when I reminded them that today was "Fat Tuesday" (Mardi Gras) and the day before Ash Wednesday, my 6 year old immediately got out the "sacrifice jar."  "Mommy, we have to get the rocks!"  He is talking about the small driveway rocks (we have used dried large beans too) that we keep in a big bowl next to the sacrifice jar.  Every time one of the kids makes a sacrifice they get to put a rock in the jar.  On Easter Sunday when they wake up, the jar will be empty of the rocks and full of jelly beans.  Its a great visual reminder of sacrifice and redemption - how God takes our sacrifices, that don't feel good - like rocks - and He turns them into beautiful prayers which obtain Grace, which is good -  sort of like jelly beans - for us! 

The kids also reminded me that we need to make this year's Stations of the Cross.  Every year I print out coloring pages of the Stations.  The kids each get a few to color and then we cut and paste them onto construction paper.  Every night of Lent we pray the Stations together, with the kids taking turns leading.  Its fun to see how their coloring, and their interpretations, change every year.  (I am sure "Punch-less Pilot" will "fly his plane" into Jerusalem again this year, and maybe he will "take martial arts lessons to learn how to punch!")

A big change this is year is that the kids are all (well except for Noah) old enough to give up something and understand why its a good thing to do.   They collectively decided to give up watching "shows." (We don't have a TV but they do have some shows they are allowed to watch on Netflix and on DVDs on the computer).  I am very proud of this Lenten endeavor, and also believe it will greatly benefit them.  I promised that we would make more library trips as a way to ease them into the idea of making this sacrifice.  What is more important to me, though, is that they understand WHY we give things up.   Once again, by explaining it to my kids, I have gotten a glimpse into the pure simplicity and total SENSE that our Faith makes. 

At dinner (pancakes with lots of toppings!) I asked them to tell their Daddy what they were doing for Lent.  They proudly announced they were giving up "shows."  "Why?"  I pressed them.  The older two explained, "Because when we give up things we like its a sacrifice, and giving things up shows God that we love Him more than we love things."  "What else?"  I asked.  "And it also trains our souls and minds to be able to say no, so when there is something bad we have to say no to, we can! "  "Yeah!  It makes a good habit in our souls and minds!"

 I beamed.

See, its not enough if my kids go through the motions but don't grasp the why . Its the why that makes all the difference.  Its the difference between "because Mommy says so" and them wanting to do something because they love God and know He loves them.  That's what Lent comes down to for all of us.  Do we go through the motions or do we seek to allow God to love us?  By removing distractions and bad habits, by practicing penance and abstinence we are opening ourselves more to His Love.  We remove those things in ourselves that prevent His love from reaching us, and that prevent us from even noticing that He loves us.  THAT is what Lent is for - it prepares us for that scandalous, wondrous, LOVE affair called Easter. 

Maybe my kids don't yet grasp the Scandal of the Cross.  Maybe they don't fully understand the utter agony Christ suffered on our behalf.  But they ARE aware of His love for them.  They DO know that something awesome happened on Easter (and it doesn't have to do with a bunny, although I am sure he is coming again this year).  As they get older they will understand more fully, and we will make new traditions.  For now though, I am happy that as we embark on these 40 days, my little ones will be giving it their all and trying their best to fill up that Sacrifice Jar! 

Its not always easy to be on the ball looking for the teachable moments and taking the opportunities to show them God's Love.  But these days, when their characters and consciences are forming, when they are developing habits for the Liturgical Year, are too important to waste.  All too soon they will be grown and have their own Lenten Traditions.  So until then I will be happy to hear more about "Punch-less Pilot" and hear my 4  year old imitate the "weeping women of Jerusalem"  (apparently they say "weep weep weep weep").  And I will secretly watch as they raise their stuffed animals from the dead and crucify half naked G.I Joes.  They are "getting it" and more importantly, in their own way, they are opening their hearts to the Love that pours forth from the Cross.  THAT, my friends, is pretty awesome.

May you all have a Blessed Lenten Season as you look forward to the Joy of Easter.

Noah and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very bad THREES!

I survived the "Terrible Twos" with Noah, the star of more than a few of the posts here.  I thought it would be smooth sailing - onto potty training and sleeping in his big boy bed! Oops.  I forgot about "three."  Noah is my fourth and youngest child on earth.  You would think by now I would have conquered the Mommy Amnesia and would be hunkered down for the Horrible Threes.  The "Twos" are just a practice run - three is when it gets REALLY interesting.  Now it is all flooding back. 

When my third child and second son turned three he began what we called the "only in public tantrums."  He was an angel at home, but as soon as he set foot in a store or market, WHAMMO!  He was on the floor writhing and screaming, wailing and yelling.  Shoving himself all over the floor with his feet while I hid, waiting for it to pass.  (It passed at three and a half.)  Yes, those were the "threes" with Ben. 

His older brother was never a tantrum thrower, he preferred to climb - and taste - everything.  His threes were spent scaling the furniture, scaling the windows, climbing the walls (literally) and then jumping off whatever it was he had conquered; then he would sample everything:  'Oh a rock!' lick.  "Hmm, hay," crunch.  "Sticky stuff from a caterpillar," slurp.  Yes he was the taste-testing climber. 

My oldest was a very particular three.  She had to have everything arranged just so, and was generally happy - until she wasn't - and it was then that she would throw the most beautiful tantrum - eyes closed, head thrown back, mouth open wide AND NO SOUND!  She was our "silent tantrum thrower."  It was magnificent. 

Noah, however, is going to be a whole new experience.  He is just plain destructive.  Mischievously destructive.  He has the benefit of older siblings, so he is QUITE the talker with an impressive (and scary) vocabulary, very inquisitive and curious, and thinks he is older than he really is.  This is NOT a good combination.  Especially with a sick Mommy. 

Yes, I have pneumonia, and am quite under the weather.  This, however, doesn't stop Noah.  He sees it as an opportunity.  "Mommy can't breathe and is stuck on the couch?  Excellent!"  And there goes the family size grated Parmesan cheese - ALL OVER the kitchen, and in a bowl, and in the computer keyboard.....  "Look, Its SNOWING!"  and he gleefully licks it off the floor.  "MMM delicious!" He smiles at me with grated cheese all over his face.  My sick self sighs.  Well, its just cheese right?  I sink into the chair and let him go to town, burying his trains in piles of "snow", filling bowls up with the cheese so he can stick his face in it and eat it "like a cat."  Eventually I summon the strength to get the vacuum.  He claps and dances as we "suck up the snow" and then "suck off" his toys, cleaning them of the cheese. 

I flop onto the couch, trying to breathe normally, and he is off on another adventure.  This one involves spraying the Toy Room with Lemon Juice.  It smells very fresh and clean now. 

Next its on to stealing gummy bears.  I find him hiding in the closet, mouth and fists full of the little bears, about to be eaten.  He grins at me and darts out of the closet.  I manage to wrestle the candy from his fists, and he is off to bigger and better things.....like shoving play doh in his ears and eyes.  "I'm being a pirate!"  "Pirates don't put play-doh in their ears."  "Oh."  and he is off again. This time eating the play-doh.  I hear my husband in the next room, "Noah, we don't eat play-doh!"  "Oh."  and his little feet come running full speed into the living room.  He grins at me, with play-doh in his teeth.  Yuck!

No worries though, because a few minutes later I find him on top of the kitchen counter stealing more gummy Bears out of the cabinet they were hiding in.  The gummy stuff will get the play-doh out of his teeth, right?  Because his toothbrush is currently shoved so far down the drain I don't think I can get it out..... and yes, he shoved it down there, clogged the drain, turned on the water and flooded the bathroom..... what is it with Noahs and floods!?

Speaking of floods, I thought a hot bath would help me breathe better.  So I filled up the tub, poured in some baking soda, and sat in the quiet steaminess, trying to breathe better.  All of a sudden a happy face peers at me.  "Hi Mommy! I am going to help you!"  and he shuts the bathroom door, trapping the two of us inside.  He grins again.  "You need toys!"  and into the bathtub goes a bunch of toys - dinosaurs, plastic things, and cups.  "You need more of this!"  and he dumps ALL the baking soda into the tub.  "Noah, Mommy doesn't need anymore help!"  "Yes you do!  Here!" and he squirts a Thomas the Tank Engine bath toy at me - cold, nasty, filmy water hits me in the face.  Gross.  Cold.  Next thing I know he has stripped off his clothes and removed his diaper.  "I am coming in too!"  And in he climbs before I can feebly call my husband (who is washing dishes and can't hear me anyway).  Now its the two of us in a bathtub filled with WAY too much baking soda.  He is happy as a squirmy clam.  Then come the anatomy questions.  "What are these for?"  "They feed babies?"  "Can I taste?"  "Why don't they work right now?"  "How come I don't have any?"  Then the conversation moves below the belt.  This is even more hysterical.  "Why don't YOU have anything?"  "Why do I have TWO parts than hang down?"  "Are they attached?"  "Why does it float?"  "Can I make it big?"  "Will it fall off?"  Eventually, anatomy questions exhausted, I get out of the tub and leave my wet, squirmy, newly-minted three year old for my husband to tackle.  Soon he is dry and ready for more action!

As I try with futility to rest in quiet, I discover Noah has taken all my candles and built a precarious tower - using a St. Francis statue and a statue of the Blessed Mother to prop it up.  I carefully unstack the candles and inspect the statues for damage.  That's when I notice that there is salt all over the small alter we have.  I follow the salt trail into the kitchen where Noah is emptying the rest of it into one of his toy trains' coal cars.  Apparently his trains run on salt. 

Out comes the vacuum.  Again.

And this is how it goes.  One day is more destructive than the next.  He gets into everything; his mischievous little grin lights up his face when he has been caught red handed stealing food, or pennies, or his siblings' toys.  I know I have even more destructive days ahead, but for now, its time to hunker down, and realize that he is going to grow out of the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very bad Threes all too quickly, and that blessed Mommy Amnesia will hit once again.

A Letter from a Sex Addicts Wife

We talk about a lot of issues that face our families here.  One of the silent killers of family life is pornography and sex addiction.  I thought for some perspective I would publish a letter from a Sex Addict's Wife.  No names or detailed information is included to protect the identify of this poor, brave woman.  (reprinted with permission).

Dear *******,

I can't do this anymore.  I have given you almost 10 years of my life and you have wasted them.  I have given you children, a clean home, dinner on the table, and encouragement.  I have been your biggest cheerleader, your biggest fan, and your biggest support.  I have believed in you when no one else has.  Yet, here we are.  I am at the end of my rope.  Your addiction and your inability to really work to fight it have destroyed everything we have.  Or did we really have it?  Was it an illusion?  Have you just been using me all these years?  That's what it feels like.  I feel like a giant rug that you walk all over.  You have stolen the best years of my life and you didn't even notice.  All those times I tried to look nice for you.  All the wasted effort I put into keeping my body healthy and fit.  All the stress I put on myself to lose baby weight and get back that "flat stomach" you say you like.  (by the way that is the ONLY compliment you ever have paid me about how I look....and it was 2 years ago.) 

Well, I am done.  I have children to protect.  When I discover that you are looking at porn with them around or in the next room you leave me no choice.  I have given EVERYTHING to this marriage.  I have sacrificed and cried, prayed and cried some more.  I have singlehandedly managed the house, while you wasted our money.  I have taught our children and raised them to respect you, even though you don't respect them.  I have soothed their broken hearts when you raise your voice or ignore them.  I have protected them from you when you were so out of touch reality that you were scary to be around.  I am done.  NO ONE should be forced to live like this.  I have dignity.  I am a child of God and you treat me like trash.  Maybe you don't intend to, but you do.  I have given you chance after chance to heal, to find treatment, to get sober.  I have given you more chances that most ever would.  Yet you throw them back in my face. 

No more.  I can't play this game or ride this roller coaster anymore.  I love you more than I can possibly articulate, but you are hurting me.  Every day.  I can't make myself a victim to your addiction, and I can't allow the kids to be victims either.  They deserve so much more than that. 

So there you go.  That's it.  After all these years of praying and hoping this is what it comes down to.  Leave.  It has become obvious that you aren't going to truly find recovery or healing living here with us, so find a place where you can.  I pray that you WILL find healing and health and sobriety and come back to us whole and happy.  That is in God's Hands. 

I will always love you.  I still believe you can be healed.  I still believe you can find sobriety and recovery.  I do not believe you will find those things if something big doesn't change.  Obviously being at home isn't working for any of us.  I pray that by leaving us you will find what you need, so you can come back to us a whole and changed man.  I will pray for you every day.

My heart is broken.  I hate that your addiction has forced me into this position and I resent having to be the one who draws a hard line in the sand.  I want this 'thing' out of our lives for good.  It is poisoning all of us. 

I love you.

Your Devoted Wife,
**********

I hope that those of you who can identify with this woman's situation will draw strength from knowing you are not alone.  We must all pray to end this scourge upon families.   If you feel as though you are in a similar situation, please know that there are resources avaible to you and support for you.  A google search of "Sanon" will find you a lot of information, as will http://www.purehope.net/ .

I don't usually do this but I would like to ask you to read someone else's blog this time:

http://theholywannabe.blogspot.com/2012/01/sobering-start-to-new-year.html

This is a dear friend of mine (yes I even scored a shout out in this post) and she wrote so eloquently on about the very thing I was going to say that I figured I would share what she wrote with you.

The bottom line is, our friends are literally in the fight for their lives and we are humbly asking for your prayers and if you are able to help in any way, for your help. 

Please read the post: http://theholywannabe.blogspot.com/2012/01/sobering-start-to-new-year.html   
and prayerfully consider if you are willing and able to show Christ's love to this family.

Happy New Year.  May 2012 find you experiencing peace and joy and counting your blessings. 

After reading this post http://theholywannabe.blogspot.com/2012/01/sobering-start-to-new-year.html   you may find this prayer helpful:

Novena Prayer to Bl. John Paul II

O Blessed Trinity
We thank You for having graced the Church
with Pope John Paul II
and for allowing the tenderness of your Fatherly care,
the glory of the cross of Christ,
and the splendor of the Holy Spirit,
to shine through him.
Trusting fully in Your infinite mercy
and in the maternal intercession of Mary,
he has given us a living image of Jesus the Good Shepherd,
and has shown us that holiness
is the necessary measure of ordinary Christian life
and is the way of achieving eternal communion with you.
Grant us, by his intercession, and according to Your will,
the graces we implore,
hoping that he will soon be numbered
among your saints.
Amen.

Waiting and Hoping

I'm sitting here with a jumble of thoughts.  Its been a while since I have been able to post and I am happy to do so once again.  Really there are so many things that I could talk about but I think for now I will settle on my Advent Musings, as Christmas is a few days away and I have much on my heart and mind.

Since my last post this summer a lot has happened.  I started working for  Presidential Campaign, ended up working for a different one, got pregnant, delivered a tiny baby boy after he had ceased to have a heartbeat at 13 weeks, suffered very serious complications, faced death no less than three times in 10 days, and discovered how truly blessed I am.

Sure we are still broke, we are constantly too low on fire wood to heat the house, and I am still recovering and this is going to be our leanest Christmas yet, but I know I am blessed, and I need to count those blessings. 



This last week of Advent has seemed purely purgatorial for so many people who are dear to me.  I am not exaggerating!!  Its as if God decided to allow an awful lot of suffering before He brings His Peace and Mercy and Christmas. 

This makes me ponder what it must have been like to have lived before the first Christmas.  What must it have been like to have been waiting for a Savior and not know when He would come?  What must it have been like to have been in captivity, in slavery, wandering a desert, living under a brutal king, all the while WAITING for the One who was to come?

How lucky we are that we KNOW there is a Christmas.  We KNOW that our Savior came, and that He comes anew at Christmas time.  What Hope we have because of this knowledge, and how blessed that we can have that Hope.  A secure Hope. 

Isn't that what Christmas is about?  Hope.  Real hope.  A tiny baby came to save us all.  God loved us so much that He allowed Himself to become man, and God the Father gave us His only Son, knowing He would suffer.  For us.  That is the truest form of love there is. The Love of God for His Son and for us - His children.  That should give us enormous Hope for whatever we are facing - and I know so many are facing so much. 

This end of Advent leaves me waiting for good news from several hospitals where family and friends are spending the Holiday this year.  It leaves me hoping doctors appointments, breathing treatments, and surgeries are successful.  It leaves me waiting.  And hoping.  And knowing that on Sunday we will celebrate the reality that Christ came.  He came whether we were ready or not.  He came in the middle of every day life.  He came quietly and changed the world.  He came for you and for me.  And He will never abandon us.

So this last week of Advent I anticipate and I wait and I Hope.  Really, when you think about it, that just about sums up Advent.

Merry Christmas, everyone.

An unexpected Blessing! Thank you JP2!

You may have noticed that I haven't been writing much lately.  That is because the infamous Noah -the star of a few of these posts broke his leg 4 weeks ago!  My poor little baby boy (well, he is 2, but still!!) broke his beautiful little leg!  He was going down a tube (covered) slide and on the way down, on his Daddy's lap, he stuck his leg straight up, catching the rubber of his sneakers on the top.  His leg stuck to the top and wedged there - as he was sliding down. Ouch. Big Ouch. 

One ER trip, one orthopedist, and a lot of tissues for a weepy Mommy later, Noah had a full leg cast.  It was green and he called it his dinosaur leg.  If you got too close to him he would raise it up and make it roar.   It broke my heart!  For the first 3 days he wouldn't let me out of reach.  I actually got out my Moby Wrap and wore him around so I could make food and go outside.  It was terrible to see him so uncomfortable. 

The night he broke it, and we came home from a rather traumatic hospital trip full of X-Rays and splints, high doses of pain medicine and fiberglass wraps, I was terrified.  How does one care for a 2 year old, who never sits still, with a broken leg?  How do I take care of my other children?  This was a brand new Mommy challenge.  Noah slept in bed with me that night (actually he is still sleeping in bed with me....he really liked the idea!) and as I looked at him sleeping with his leg all propped up I thought of John Paul II.  He had just been beatified.  I have a very special devotion to him, and have been close to him since before I was in High School.  I immediately felt the need to ask him for his help.  So that's just what I did.  I got out one of my prayer cards that was blessed by theh late Holy Father when I saw him in Rome in 1996. My other kids joined me in asking Bl. John Paul II to fix Noah's Leg.  And you know what?  He did!
I would like to share with you that story and what an unexpected and wonderful Blessing it was!

Here I have a copy of what I wrote to some friends and family the day of Noah's 2 week Check-up for his leg (a break which we were told would need at least 4-6 weeks to heal iin a full leg cast):


Noah had his 2 week check up for his leg today. The doctor was somewhat flabbergasted when she looked at today's Xrays and saw that the 2 breaks are completely healed. "I've never seen this type of break heal so quickly - even in a small child," she said, "I don't know what to do!" and she stared at the XRays some more. I, however, was not as surprised, simply because when Noah broke his leg (he had a good crack in his tibia and a spidery fracture and some bowing in his fibula) I began praying to Bl John Paul II to heal it quickly. I had a prayer card that was blessed by him when I saw him in Rome in 1996. I placed it over his break inside his cast at night. Today I was practically giddy as we waited for the XRay results because I knew it would be good news! Since the Doc was so confused as to what she should do and all I could do was laugh as Noah swung his "broken" leg around she decided to take off his big cast and look at it. When she came in the room after it was removed she started examining the wrong leg saying, "Hmm there is some bruising." When I pointed out that she was examining the wrong leg and that the bruising was an ink smudge and an old black and blue mark, she took a look at the "broken" leg and said, "Oh my, it looks perfectly fine!" She asked him if it hurt to which he responded by kicking it, laughing, and trying to jump on it. Ultimately she decided to put him in a short leg cast "because that's what I would normally do, and I've never encountered this situation before." She admitted though that the short leg cast doesn't even cover the part that was broken (!) and that its really for "insurance and malpractice purposes" more than anything else, "because his leg looks completely healed even though it shouldn't."



I never gave him homeopathy to promote bone growth because I couldn't find it, and was confident that Bl. Papa JP2 would fix him. He never had or needed pain relievers after the day the break occurred. I gave him Arnica for the first 2 days (before his big cast was put on) to reduce swelling, and that was it. I am completely convinced that through the intercession of Papa John Paul II, Noah's leg is perfectly fine, and he has to deal with the short cast purely as a formality and to appease a very confused doctor.


Another interesting thing is that the whole time we were at the Orthopedist Noah kept asking to go to Church! He told all the nurses he was going to church and kept asking me to go. He NEVER asks to go to church. Ever. I promised him we'd go when we were done. When we left the Orthopedist we went to our Church and into the Adoration Chapel. Noah was very quiet and content (also rare). He blessed himself with Holy Water, blew Jesus a kiss and I asked him if we should say thank you. He nodded so we said, I love you Jesus, thank you John Paul 'second'. Then he blew Jesus another kiss, and looked at me whispering , "OK, go home now." I smiled at him and that's just what we did! Perhaps his little heart understands...I'd like to think so.


Thank you, Bl. John Paul II!!! We Love you!

.