Thursday, February 28, 2013

Goodbye Father




I remember the day that Pope Benedict XVI was elected. The words “Habemus Papam!” rang out from my television set and I sat down and burst into tears. I was pregnant at the time and emotional anyway, but I was hit pretty hard with the death of John Paul II. In 2005 I was still freshly Catholic, still trying to figure out how to manage a day to day Catholic life. Simply knowing who the Pope was helped.

Pope John Paul II was an intellectual powerhouse. He was a man strong enough to fight Communism from the inside. He was consistent. He was also charismatic. That helped, that charm. When I wanted to slack off in my efforts to attempt at holiness, that twinkle in his eye would leap out at me from a photograph or a television screen and dare me to be better. I don’t know how he managed to make a personal connection through a lens, but he did. I think the motherless, brotherless, fatherless loneliness that he had conquered had something to do with that ability. With that look of his, that gentle smile of his, he could touch that loneliness in all of us that he knew so well. He had battled to the very depths of it and found that he was not alone and he found a way to share that message with the world. We are never alone.


The election of the new Pope in 2005 was something new to me. I knew nothing of the process, nothing of the men who might be elected. I was an avid EWTN listener and viewer, but tended to tune out anything that didn’t involve doctrine directly. Joseph Ratzinger was an unfamiliar name to me. When the regular press called him the Rotweiler I thought, “Well, maybe the Church needs that type of Pope right now.” Time for a stern hand.

Then that first encyclical came out, “God is Love.” I was surprised. “This from the Rotweiler?” It didn’t sound very attack dog-ish to me. After that I started noticing him more. His look was very much like my newborn son’s, there was a gentle hesitance to him that was the mark of a more introverted personality than his predecessor. There was a twinkle in his eye, too, but it was the delight of a grandfather, the light of love. I began to see that he was very right to begin his Pontificat with a discussion of God’s love. This man radiated Fatherly love.


His writings are much easier to crack open initially than John Paul II’s. He has a more teacherly gift of being able to break down the intellectual flights into simple explanations. The words he chooses are like a dock built over deep water. You can stand on it and enjoy the view from the surface or you can dive in and explore the depths. His predecessor’s writings are like the mountain trails he so loved. Each step into John Paul II’s writing is an effort and both the climb and the view take your breath away.

But I am not a scholar at the moment. I am a mother and a wife. I’ll take my Popes personally and familiarly. They are Fathers to me and to my family.

This spiritual father is leaving me due to an aging body and at the same time my earthly father is sickening day by day with dementia. I am avoiding the news pics of Benedict leaving Rome because I must watch my own father slip away a little at a time. I have a choice in this and I choose not to watch.

I am taking it personally. I can’t help that. I don’t want to watch him leave. It's not that I'm feeling abandoned exactly, but it is too akin to that slightly orphaned feeling I get when my dad can’t remember the end of the sentence he was speaking. One father’s mind is failing him, the other his body. I don’t want to feel this alone.

So, I am ending this gentle man’s papacy the same way that I began it, by sitting down in tears because there’s just no helping myself. He’s going away.

He’s going away. My dad is slipping away. What else am I to do?

Then I think of that other Pope, my first Pope and I know to wait, hope and trust. Pope John Paul II would understand my feelings perfectly. He would also dare me to do something useful with the feeling. Don’t worry, Papa, I won’t waste it.


John 14:27
“Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.” (KJV)

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

The Contraceptive Mentality in Marriage: Tim Ohmes' Conversion Story

We brought it up on the podcast tonight and, as promised, I am reposting Tim's amazing conversion story. It is long, but it is so worth it.

Click here for a link to Tim's story...

Listen here for Tim's story in Tim's own words on the Podcast.


Listen to internet radio with Deeper Truth on Blog Talk Radio

Tonight's show is not up yet. I will link it as soon as it is available.

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Storm Pics

The storm started in the wee hours of Monday morning with thunder, lighting and a blast of wind. That wind got up to 74 mph and didn't let up until yesterday afternoon. It was so bad and so loud that when it finally calmed down to the 30 mph range our ears rang for an hour or more afterwards.
They closed the roads, but a few vehicles braved the elements.
Now that it is all over, everyone is waiting on the water content numbers. I haven't heard any complaints from a single Texan about the storm. Water is water no matter how tall!

Storm's over? Time to go play!

She insisted on wearing a dress in and amongst the layers!
We discovered that the wind had done some funny business. We had bare dirt in places and drifts in others. This is the inside of our garage (note the open door)...

We loaded up the garage to protect all this stuff!

This is our goat who managed to keep in once piece. We thought for sure she'd kid mid-blizzard. See how the wind left a bare swath around her shed?

Her feed bucket was snatched out of Andy's hands and blew away during the storm.
We'll probably find it on our next hike in Palo Duro Canyon.

This drift was our favorite place to play. It's just under five feet tall and was formed on the north side of the house. The snow was frozen and packed hard enough to keep the adults from breaking through, too.

That's the feed shed behind them. The roof is about knee level to the kids.

We made it through safe and warm. We didn't even lose power though the Internet went out when the ice overtook the satellite dish.

Safe and Sound Here!

We've dug out our garage and it's my husband's regularly scheduled weekend, so we are going to sit out the thaw here at home, painting a bathroom!

Saturday, February 23, 2013

7 Quick Takes


--1--

I love history. I love novels. Historical fiction is a joy for me if the writing and the history are done well. Anachronisms drive me batty. I can’t say that they are entirely possible to avoid. Our modern viewpoint is bound to intrude here and there, but blatantly compromising history through ignorance or through marketing considerations causes books to become airborne around here.

Post Sexual Revolution mores stand out like beacons of silliness in the Fourteenth Century. In the real history of the actual people referenced in a book I chanced upon, the consequences for their moral choice was banishment from the kingdom. In the novel that was glossed over as if it were of no consequence. Can you imagine years of your life cut off from your friends and family and homeland as no big deal? Me, neither.

Novel tossed.

(And no, I'm not giving free publicity to it by mentioning it by name.)


--2--

My mother is out of the hospital and felt well enough to come by to see the grandkids Friday. Walking is now a part of her must do list. If you’re wondering why she was in the hospital, she unknowingly had pneumonia. If you’re wondering how she could not know she had pneumonia, she has Cystic Fibrosis. If you’re wondering what Cystic Fibrosis is, click the word. If you’re wondering how she can have that disease and be in her 70s, you’re not the only one. She’s a medical astonishment, but she’s better now.


--3--

First World Announcement

Whoo! Whoo!
Celebrate good times!


We now have bathrooms! (Note: plural s on the direct object!) That’s right, we’re a two potty party over here! The second bathroom is finished except for the painting. I’d say the lines to use the bathroom are reduced at our house, but since all the kids want to exclusively use the new toilet, everyone is still waiting and whining outside one bathroom door. If you come over for a visit, use the bathroom at the back. No lines. No waiting.


--4--

Large Family Announcement

Whoo! Whooer! Whooest!
Celebrate even better times!


At 7:45 February 12, 2013, all the laundry at my house was done. All of it. I had to make a note of that somewhere. The last time this happened my washing machine was broken and I ran all 15 loads simultaneously at the laundry mat.

Please note that the date is actually from last Tuesday. We had a slew of bed wetting that very night and throughout the next week, so I was so busy washing bedding and blankets last Friday that I totally forgot to make this announcement in last week’s Quick Takes. Those of you who have families of 3 or more kids totally understand why the accomplishment bears announcement even when evidence of it did not last a full 24 hours.

I did it. I folded it. I put it away. All of it.


--5--

Speaking of folding laundry, I was calculating how many times I’ve been through the entire Bible the other day. I’m on my fourth time through, not counting Daily Masses. If the first sentence doesn’t make sense to you, folding a pile of laundry bigger than your head is mind-numbingly stimulating: you will think of anything to keep yourself mentally occupied. If the second sentence doesn’t make sense, you have to know that the Catholics hear the entire Bible in Sunday Mass every three years (it only takes one year for Daily Mass attendees), so I figured out how many times I’d heard the Bible since I’d converted. I counted up the years, then divided by three.

How many times have you been through the Bible? Anyone actually sat and read  through the whole thing? If you don’t count the Epistles, the book of Numbers, Leviticus, and Matthew 1, I’ve read it all the way through, too!


--6--

If you haven’t read this yet, read this. It will help you when you are thinking that you’re the only one who feels this way. All my friends who have children reacted to this piece with a “That’s me!” reaction. All of my friends who have children with special needs reacted the exact same way.

Which brings me to this point I’ve made before: parenting children with special needs is not a different kind of parenting, it’s just more intense. We’re doing exactly what good parents do for children, we are just having to do it longer or harder for this child than that one. Parenting is parenting and children are children. We don’t stop being human just because our bodies or our minds work quirky.

Here We Are
by Simcha Fisher


--7--

On a related note, here’s a story poem that someone shared with my husband and me shortly after we received the news that our son likely had Autism. It helped.



Welcome to Holland

by Emily Perl Kingsley

To view this poem, click here...