Life Is Sweet!

That was the inscription on the decorations for the tables, today, at a reception that we attended.  It was also basically the theme of the weekend- truly a celebration of life.  (And my main excuse for not getting to this blog in a few days.  Sorry!)

Yesterday, my husband rode in a ride for the MS Society.  (While I think the connections are morally black, he decides what he wants to do, so ride he does...)  He biked 35-miles, with the option of going farther, however the weather was rainy and we had a birthday party to attend.  Celebration #1 was the ride.  From the MS ride, we drove to the 1st birthday party of our friends' baby daughter. The theme was music. There were nine children between the ages of four and six months.  It was truly a fun time watching all of the children interact and have fun.  The babies were having fun with the other babies and the big kids were having their own fun.  Adults, of course, served as entourage for the children: schlepping, feeding, cleaning, photo taking.  But really, it was a great time for all, and all were perfectly tired following celebration of life numero dos.

Today we awoke and after my son exited School of Religion, Pre-K, we drove to yet another birthday party.  This time, the celebrant turned 2 and the theme was trucks.  Our friends' son had a pretty good time, though he napped through the first half hour as everyone arrived.  He seemed happy to play with all the children, though.  Again, another nine children, not all the same, but similar age range as some of the families did repeat.  It was nice to catch up with the respective families at each celebration. Part of growing up, is meeting new people and the families that helped form them, but the catch is that even if you develop good relationships with the extended family, you really don't see them as often as you would like.  Birthdays are an excellent opportunity to catch up.

Our third celebration ended, and we moved on to celebration number four.  Definitely a more somber celebration than the first three, but just as important.  A dear friend of ours, that we have known for nine years now, was diagnosed with breast cancer almost six months ago.  She endured a double-mastectomy and chemotherapy over the summer, and for now, prognosis seems good.  We attended a beautiful Mass of Thanksgiving, and then the reception that followed.  It was beautiful:  pink everywhere, friends that most of us have not seen in months, and candy/sweets as far as the eye can see.  It was like falling into the cotton candy bin, though the candy was far more varied.  Our friend looked beautiful, regardless of the fact that she had lost her hair and that she had been through so much, she glowed with the promise of future days with friends and family.  It was touching to see her parents there to support her.  I was struck by the fact that they too were once holding their baby girl not knowing what awaited them so many years later.  It made me sad, but gave me hope for them and hope for each of us out there.  We all have our trials and tribulations.  We all have so many, many blessings to be thankful for, but God walks us through each step along the way.  He provides us with so much: comfort, strength, moments of joy.

The priest today gave a beautiful homily discussing the Gospel story: the workers who were paid the same regardless of when they came.  He made a point that I'd never heard when hearing this story before.  The workers that were chosen first were likely the strongest and the most able to give a full days work.  Those chosen later on in the day, were likely the weaker or less healthy or possibly women and children, who also needed a days wages.  The wages in that time were just enough to feed your family and yourself.  So, the master, was making sure that regardless of ability, everyone received what they needed.  He was not trying to gyp the first workers, only ensuring that those who were least able to work could still eat and feed their families.  Father said that we should remember in those times that seem unfair, that God is providing us with what we need and nothing more.  He is making good out of our experiences and helping changes take place that can increase our holiness.

It hit me in that moment.  It truly felt like the priest was talking to me.  Maybe it was the location.  We were married in the same church almost six and a half years ago, and experienced both the miscarriages in that church.  Walking in today, that was on my mind, but after the homily, it occurred to me that maybe it was in some way to lead us to the parish that is now our home.  I'm NOT saying that God caused the miscarriages, but rather that out of the pain, He led us to our current beautiful home.  A place of great growth and great peace, amazing friends and a pastor for whom I never cease to be thankful.  Beautiful things can come out of great sorrow, and yes my friends, life is sweet!

Since it's ilegible: "Alleluia, Salvation, and glory, and honor, and power, unto the Lord Christ Jesus!"

Where Were They?

September 11, 2001 also had a great impact on a few friends that we have come to know since that fateful day.  I thought I'd share their stories because they are such a testament to strength and God's invisible hand.

My Son's Godfather

I didn't find out until a few years after we met him, that J's presence in our life was lucky.  He was one of the "survivors" of the World Trade Center building.  Survivor is in quotes only due to the coincidental circumstances of his story.  J worked at Lehman Brothers in the Towers.  On the morning of the attacks, his alarm failed to go off.  He awoke and headed to work, finding out along the way that something had occurred.  Not knowing what was happening, he decided to continue heading in.  When nearly there, in the World Trade Center area, he was suddenly told that they should go to a nearby building as they were not sure what was happening and wanted them to be safe in the perimeter.  Soon after heading that way, and nearly upon arrival at the building, the first tower fell.  He and several others stayed in the building until they were told it was safe to continue on.  When given clearance, J headed on home.  Like many in his situation, he ended up walking all the way home due to the shutdowns of the transportation system.

His family had been placing phone calls.  They lived across the country and were obviously worried about his safety.  His roommates had all but come to terms with the fact that J likely wasn't coming home that day.  That evening, J, covered in white soot, walked into the apartment, and his roommate said he felt like it was seeing a ghost.  Years later at his wife's bridal shower, his mother gave a moving speech about her joy in seeing this day come given what could have been.  I don't think there was a dry eye in the room.  J has been a great godfather and is an upstanding Catholic.  While I'm sure he constantly questions why him and what he is supposed to do now, those of us that know him are thankful for his presence in our lives.

My Dear CRHP Sister

M and her new husband, R, went to New York on their honeymoon.  They were touring the area and had plans to go to Washington D.C. sometime around September 13.  The day the attacks happened, R kept trying to convince her to go to the World Trade Center.  M adamantly refused.  She did not want to be there and really had no interest in seeing the location.  At the time of the attacks, they were in their hotel room and thought that there was an earthquake.  They left their room thinking they needed to be evacuating the building.  Instead, they were told of the events and went back up to their room.

They rode out some time in the room, watching the news and looking out their window to see what they could.  While the plan for the honeymoon had been more extensive and included a trip up the East Coast, they decided to cut their losses and head home.  They rented the last car out of New York and drove nonstop until they reached home many hours later.  M is one of the sweetest and most giving people that I know.  She and her husband are gentle and have a deep faith.  I find that she makes me want to work harder to be a better Catholic.

In recounting these stories, I am consumed with the gratitude for the ability to see God's hand in the lives of the survivors.  I think stories like these allow us to know that even in the midst of great tragedy, God is there and He does still care.  My heart goes out to all those who lost loved ones on this terrible day.  The day likely goes down as the worst day ever for many.  And yet, out of that darkness are tiny beams of light.  Little stirrings to show us that we were not completely abandoned.  I pray that the Lord continues to bring healing to those who were adversely affected by the events of September 11. Prayers, too, extend to those who lost their lives in the aftermath. My heart is with you and yours.

By the way...

Thank you for taking the time to read my blog.  If you would like me to keep you in my prayers, just drop me a line.  I'd me more than happy to add you to my prayer list.  You can be specific or just say, "Add me!"  I'd love to add some of my readers to my list of prayers.  Even if you don't ask, I'm still thank God for you each day!

Nature's beauty

How can you deny that there is a God?  (Excuse the light pole, but I was in a parking lot when I saw that beautiful light breaking through.)

A million years later, I return

So much has happened since I started trying to keep this blog that I'm not sure I can capture it all right now, especially in the midst of naptime.  I just know that once I get on a roll, someone is going to interrupt me!  And so maybe that is where I should begin.  In the past year and a half since I started the blog, we have added a new baby girl to our family.  And then there were four!  (And what a birth story, but I'll save that for another day.)  Most days I love it immensely and cannot thank God enough for blessing me with this life I call my own.  The smiles and the laughs keep me going and build me up.  My two little ones make living completely worth it.  Even when both are crying and one is throwing up.  (Not that those are fun days...)  There are of course the occasional days where I'm a zombie by the time my beloved husband comes home, but isn't that life?  It's just par for the course to me.  Even working would provide me with a day like that.

When I started writing, I was in the throes of grief.  We had been through three miscarriages.  Three.  One I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.  Three was the kind of drag you to the bottom of the ocean pain that I never thought I would survive.  I was BITTER.  I was mad at God and I just wanted to take it out on someone.  Yet, we survived.  We grew stronger.  Our family is that much more for what we have been through.  I just had yet to realize that.  I had yet to determine that maybe I was not being "smote" for some past wrong doing, maybe things just happen.  Bad, sucky, hard things.  They do.  They happen, and we glean what bit of knowledge that we can from them, and we move on.  Some days that is easier said than done.

It took attending and participating in Christ Renews His Parish to really see God's hand in my life.  To view this change as a blessing in disguise.  I now fully believe that there will be a day when I get to see and hold my little babies.  In the meantime, they are in the best care possible...God's Hands.  Could I ask for more?  Isn't that what I'd ultimately want for my current children on Earth?  We raise our kids hoping that someday they will make it to heaven.  Well, I believe that in God's infinite mercy, my babies are up there.  Had we had the ability to baptize these little lost babies before they made their way beyond, we certainly would have.  It brings me such peace, joy and happiness to believe that.

Here's what I've learned from all of this:
1.  God is great.  He is merciful and loving.  He has a plan, no matter how hard it seems.  Christ holds us up and helps us to keep moving even when we feel that we can't take another step.  We are not alone.

2.  Conception may be hard for us, but it will be worth it.  I've come to terms with the realization that anytime we hope to have children, it may take awhile.  We may end up miscarrying again, maybe more than once.  While that thought brings me some degree of pain, I also am now aware of how strong we really are, and that we can get through it.  I KNOW how special my little ones are to me, and that even if we suffer, they make every day brighter while we have them here.

3.  Plans don't work out as you'd expect.  Trite, I know.  And yet, that doesn't stop every other person from asking us if we are done having children or when we might try again. (Even as we are raising a 6 month-old and a 3.5 year old.)  I answer honestly.  I don't know.  I have no idea what might happen when.  I have no idea if we'll be able to have more children.  I'd love it, and I know God already knows that, but it's not up to me.  If it were up to me, I would probably not have been through our past trials, and I think I would appreciate my current state a little less.  That's not to say that everyone who easily has children takes them for granted, but it does mean that I might have.  I know in the depths of my heart that if I hadn't been through this process, I would probably forget how valuable my children are, especially during the hard days.  Now, I just remind myself how desperately I wanted to be here.  That's always a good, swift kick in the pants!

4.  Life is good. I've said it previously, and it still rings true.  I never feel the need to stop marveling at how amazing my life has become, how much the Lord has blessed me.  I hope that I'm passing on these blessings to meet his satisfaction.  It's truly a humbling experience to be a wife and mother.  I am just so thrilled to be along for the ride!

Peace of Christ be with you

I truly think that everyone I know either has two children, or is pregnant with their second.  Painful!  It is one of the hardest things.  I always thought having a child meant that I wouldn't go through this degree of pain again.  The first two miscarriages were horrible because I thought that I would never have a child.  This one is hard because I am ready for another child, and I really hope that my son will not be an only-child.  It's not that I think there is anything wrong with only children.  I just really want him to experience siblings.  My sister and I were pretty close growing up, and I think that he deserves a similar experience.  I understand that there is no telling how close they might be, but I do hope he will have that one of these days.

In the meantime, I keep saying Seven Sorrows Rosaries.  I think they actually help me feel a little better with my suffering and sorrow.  I know I'll never feel 100% great about this situation, but at least it gives me a chance to improve my feelings.  There is a retreat in my parish coming up in a week, and I am so looking forward to it because it will give me a chance to enhance my relationship with God.  It seems like it's suffering a little right now, all my pain is making it hard to turn to Him.  I know that will change someday.  Hopefully the retreat will speed that up.  This feeling is abhorrable!