Praise Him in the Storm

The blog has been a little dormant these past few months. It seems like I have torrents of inspiration, and then stagnation. Lather, rinse, repeat. 

In reality, it isn't so much that the writing is stagnant, but rather my spirit and my vision. I am inspired to write, but when I finally sit in front of the screen, exhaustion hits and the mind goes blank. It seems as though what I was dying to write earlier in the day or week just doesn't seem important. In the midst of the chaos and crazy that is my life, how could I possibly contribute anything worthwhile? There are so many bigger blogs, so many better writers, so many more talented artists, so many more fun and wise mamas...what I was going to say just pales by comparison.

By comparison. The death of the creative spirit. The death of the soul flying to God. The constant thorn in my side despite the knowledge that the measuring stick is poison to the soul against anyone other than Christ. Couple that with a dash of perfectionism, and it leads to sudden death of any spontaneous creativity by over-examination. If the words don't flow with just the right rhythm and cadence, if the phrases don't dance across the screen with just the right blend of humor and depth, if the response is not immediate and gargantuan - forget about it! I mean, that's what Jesus said, right? 

Cue Blessed Teresa of Calcutta (We are called to be faithful, not successful.) and Jesus with St. Peter (What is it to you what I ask of him? Follow me!). These are paraphrased of course, but the two sentiments get at the heart of what often obstructs my vision. I should probably have these plastered all over the house, or at least those places that are visible as I create. At the end of the day, it isn't about anything else but faithfulness and following the voice of the Lord - not when it comes to the creative spirit, and not when it comes to prayer.

Yeah, it's my stumbling block with prayer too. I can't find the "perfect" fit? I just give up. Lather, rinse, repeat. Yet again, it is just about getting up and starting again, over and over, submitting ourselves to His mercy and grace. If you follow me on Instagram, you'll notice that a few weeks ago I started taking the toddler with me to pray before the tabernacle for a few minutes each day we pick up Gia from pre-school. It's only a few minutes, but it is a few minutes with Jesus. Jesus is waiting there for us, whether Jude is quiet or not. He is waiting whether I am distracted or not. He is waiting just to be with me. How could I make it simpler than that? He isn't waiting for the perfect time when my attention is focused and life is still. He waits for me in the storms and chaos of life so He can still my heart and make it His. 

So we go. With a busy, noisy toddler, we go. Not everyone appreciates it, but we go. Today, I took Jude with me to a Sacrament Double Header. I went to reconciliation and he came with me. He's young enough that I'm guessing he won't reveal the secrets of the confessional! He wasn't still. He wasn't quiet. You know what? Grace and mercy still showed up, because Jesus comes to us anywhere at anytime. The priest was great too and just kept on going even when I was clearly trying to wrangle the toddler. We come as we are to be wiped clean. What a blessing! (Be sure to thank the pastors who make it easy to show up for Jesus with kids in tow as they are too.)

From there I headed back to our parish for an appointment with our priest to receive the Sacrament of Anointing...noisy and active toddler in tow. He wanted to go say hi to Jesus first in all the usual places - the crucifix, the tabernacle, the statue. Instead, we found our priest and headed toward the anointing oils, which are right by the baptismal font. So Father anointed me as Jude splashed in the holy water. He wasn't still. He wasn't quiet. Grace and mercy still showed up, and I got a double blessing of holy water from a slightly wet two year old, who then wanted to head up to the altar to kneel before Jesus. And then the tabernacle. And then the statue with candles. (After sitting down in the main aisle and trying to fill his pants as he blessed himself with the sign of the cross. Father was pretty amused by that one.)

So it goes. It isn't about waiting for the perfect time with the perfect offering. It is simply making the offering with an open heart, willing to follow. Every morning, it is asking Jesus He wants from me that day. It is the practice of knowing my desires and handing them over to Jesus who will perfect them according to His will for His purpose and glory. It is asking for His help to be present, to be attentive to the prompting of the Holy Spirit, to respond when He asks me to act...or not to act. This is not something I can do alone. This is not a discipline that will develop overnight. My hope is that with constant reminders to start anew and surrender myself, that I will grow in my ability to set aside those measures of comparison and keep my eyes focused on Jesus and His desires and plans for me. I pray that with practice, I will more joyfully respond when Christ asks me to be a gift or blessing to another, whether friend, family, or stranger, even when it is inconvenient. Maybe with time, I will come to recognize every moment as an opportunity to honor and praise God...even (and especially) in the storm.

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Project Empty: Don't Be an Amoeba

I admit it. There are times I need to be hit over the head with a copper kettle before I start to pay attention. When I gave in to my word of the year, I knew this whole year would be somehow filled with those moments. Empty is hard, especially when you have been fighting empty for so long. 

Nevertheless, there it is. Empty is still hitting me over the head. The flavor of the day is perfection and comparison. It began last night as I read this status update from Lysa TerKeurst:

"Dear Lord, forgive me for all of the times I've compared myself to others. I know that You have hand-picked all of my qualities. Help me to see these things as beautiful reminders of Your great love in creating me as your daughter. In Jesus' name, Amen." 

Well, then. There you have it. Not only is comparison the thief of joy, it is the thief of grace. God has created me, all of me. Why do I think I need to do it all, and be it all, all of the time? Why does seeing someone else succeed at times give me tinges of guilt at the things I am not accomplishing? In addition to wreaking havoc on my own psyche and spirit, the drive for perfectionism wreaks havoc on the body of Christ. 

Our shortcomings serve a purpose. While many of us are quick to believe we must be the best at everything, that just isn't God's plan. Certainly, we strive to do and be our best at all times, but that is far from the stench of perfectionism. As St. Paul writes, in the body of Christ there are many members, but one body, no one part dispensable or more important that the other. 

If we cannot, in humility, acknowledge and embrace our shortcomings, we elevate ourselves over one another. We deny others the ability to use what God has given them to share. If I can do it all, I have no need of you. We risk becoming an entire body in and of ourselves, comprised of only one cell. We become an amoeba, not a human. 

I say this as a reminder to myself. Failure and weakness are part of the human experience...perhaps even a strength of the human experience in that it opens us to the grace of God. 

Grace-filled isn't always graceful. It doesn't mean that I am always floating gently above the surface, devoid of emotion or failure. Yes, by definition, that is hard to reconcile. When I explore the fullness of the words, graceful evokes images of ballerinas leaping as though lighter than air, ladies walking with perfect posture in heels and pearls. I don't think that is the graceful that Christ desires of us, or the expectation I want to pass on to my daughter (or son, for that matter.) When I use the word grace-filled, a very different image appears. An empty pitcher, being filled with water, grace being poured out onto an empty and open soul. Grace-filled.

It isn't when I am somehow perfectly hovering above the messiness of life that I am most graceful. It is precisely when I have fallen on my giant patootie that I am most filled with grace. It is when I am fallen and dirty and beaten that there is more likely room for grace to enter in and fill me to the full. 

I was once told a story about Native American weavers. It was said that when these artisans would weave their tapestries, they would always leave a little hole, a little imperfection, where the spirit could enter. That image has always stuck with me in a powerful way. God has allowed the same in us after the fall, but we spend countless hours and millions upon millions of dollars trying to eliminate the imperfections that may be our very ticket to grace. 

How much simpler life would be if we instead perfected the ability to embrace our quirky idiosyncrasies, the thorns in our flesh, the faceplants and facepalms, and learned to laugh and surround ourselves with the body of Christ. Surely we would find that we are stronger together, that you can do what I cannot, and I can do what you cannot. It is possible that we would learn that our weaknesses do not make us worthless, but rather in them we realize our true worth to a God who comes to lift us up through them. Perhaps we would be quicker to remember that God alone is perfect, and even He comes united in three persons. 

Now there is a lesson I want my children to learn.

Wishing you and yours a year of grace-filled moments, bruises and all!

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In Search of Grace

Not trying to steal Heather's illustrative niche - just couldn't
find an image that matched the one in my head! Voila. Now
go check out her masterpieces of art and writing, because well,
this leaves a lot to be desired.

Changes can bring about a lot of joy, but that can often be mixed with a lot of turmoil. When stress is high, it feels like all the little things that normally would be minor annoyances start to take on a magnitude rivaling the peak of Mount Everest. I long so deeply to be the woman, wife, and mother who exudes a quiet and peaceful countenance, who "obtains, maintains and establishes a steady cool." {That last phrase was a shout out to my old Dean of Students...}

I am not. No matter how hard I try, it seems like the slightest ripple unleashes a chain reaction of seismic proportions. Toddlers are messy. Toddlers are noisy. Toddlers have accidents. All of this is perfectly normal, except in my head where I'm pretty sure mine are the only ones who need a hearing aid before the age of four and are secretly plotting not to turn my hair grey lest I have any semblance of glory, but rather lead me to exhibit female baldness a la Sinead O'Connor (or Ross's girlfriend Bonnie on Friends).

Why? Why is that? Why can I not just roll with the punches and revel in the independence-gaining chaos that is life with toddlers? What keeps me from extending grace when they do not respect my author-i-tay or mistakenly believe I am wearing a cloak of invisibility that also makes my voice inaudible?

Jesus and numerous other people extend me grace every second of every day. I am far from perfect and yet I am forgiven and given so many chances to try again and do better. What makes my first reaction so far from grace? What makes me so intent on "teaching lessons" that I cannot embrace the joy in the blessed mess? How do I so quickly forget that love has to come first, before the correction, before the losing of one's final brain cell?

I know part of the secret is balance and order. When the basics are unbalanced (sleep, nutrition, prayer life, sleep, house), the train derails more quickly. I know. I know part of the secret is not comparing myself to other moms who can glide through the day with twice the kids and half the chaos, throwing in a handful of outings to boot. While I know all these things, the end result still doesn't land in the realm of peacefulness.

At the end of the day, I think the real secret is that I need to open myself up to receiving grace before it will flow out from me. I think that is the "secret that's not a secret" of the seemingly supermom who can navigate a half dozen toddlers with a single bound. She likely is allowing herself the time to soak up grace so she can bestow it on others. That's the circus feat I need to conquer.

Here is the real question. How do you open yourself to that when it seems like you are spiraling down without a net? When your mind, body, and spirit are headed for automatic shutdown, where is the restart button to begin again, to quiet and calm your soul before Jesus to let Him fill you with His grace? When there is so much to be done and the quiet minutes are but a precious few, how long is long enough to focus on the One who is that stream of life you so desperately seek? When everything on the inside screams out holy hot mess of tangled yarn, how do you fix your gaze on the One by whom you were woven and spun? 

No really, how? The only thing it seems I can do is start small, and start with something. Anything. A Hail Mary. A chapter of a devotional. A few verses of Scripture. Anything is something that opens the door. There may not be a secret code or "right way" after all, other than to just do it. Perhaps Nike was on to something bigger than they knew. The secret to receiving grace may simply be to stay in search of it and open the door to receiving the outpouring God has in store without preconceived notions of how it will appear. Here's to opening the doors and windows and throwing away the umbrella in the hopes of a torrential downpour like the one outside right now. Lord knows I can use it, and so can all those who encounter me daily.

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7QTs on Moving, Roads, Strong Wills, and Love Love Love

Time again for another Quick Takes! I've been taking a bit of a break from the creative life while we are getting mom settled in. The huge "let's get this done NOW" side of me takes over and I get focused on the list of things to do with the new house, and it seems, I cannot multitask indefinitely. Apparently rather than rolling with it and documenting the whole process, I turn into a huge roll and curl up in the fetal position trying to stay awake while my eyelids remain uncooperative and all of a sudden I'm losing matches of QuizUp because we skipped from Round 1 to 5 in the matter of seconds where my eyelids failed me. It's a hard knock life. 

I'll be back, though. You'll see. For now, here is a snippet of life at Casa McCormick and the many thoughts that have been fleetingly floating through my cerebral tissue.

--- 1 ---

I need to be a more patient driver. I understand this. In making this statement, I do wonder if every road within a 20 mile radius from us needs to be under construction at the same time, however. Is it really necessary to try my patience in order for me to acquire some? Really? God - got any good ones here? I won't be applauding orange as the new black any time soon unless it means completely new roads and not a blacktop mess.

--- 2 ---

Which leads me to this gem of a reflection, otherwise known as airing a pet peeve. I really, truly hate when people refer to our roads, however decrepit, as war zones. I have a feeling people in war zones would disagree. A lot. I understand that the roads look like something resembling a gravelly patchwork quilt sewn together by a three year old and the potholes resemble craters, but hey - no bombs or mines, right? So there is that.

--- 3 ---

This three year old is giving me a run for my money. Strong willed daughter, meet strong willed crabby sleep/caffeine-deprived mom. It ain't gonna be pretty. It's a good thing you're pretty cute. And funny. Here was our morning exchange as I left for work:

Me: Bye sugar pie! I love you baby girl!
Her: Yeah, ok. Bye!

Yup, the stuff of best-selling mom/daughter memoirs, and you saw it here first, folks!

--- 4 ---

Going further into the "it ain't gonna be pretty" sentiment, any suggestions on keeping your cool when you are exhausted (physically AND emotionally)? I'm thinking of checking out Parenting With Grace by the Popcaks and Grace-Based Parenting by Tim Kimmel (which I started to read when I worked at the bookstore, but never finished or purchased). Any other recommendations? I know beefing up the prayer routine morning, noon and night will help too. I'd rather have more moments of laughter and fewer moments of exasperation (which I realize may be completely a necessary attitude adjustment on my part, but I might need help getting there). I want to remember this time not only for its trials, but its joys, which are aplenty but sometimes get lost in the midst of battle.

--- 5 ---

There is SO MUCH to do when you move! Just to be clear, we aren't moving anywhere. My mom moved here last weekend, and we are in the midst of settling in. The movers have come and gone, we've bought appliances, hooked up utilities, and yet there is still a long list of things to do. LONG. LIST. Also, it feels like she has already been here a month, but it's not even a week. That's not a bad thing, just seems like we've been running longer than a few days. I guess throwing our work schedules and Mother's Day in there adds to the activity. I am very glad she is here, but will be even more glad once things have completely settled down (and by completely, clearly I mean mostly).

--- 6 ---

Last weekend we had our True Beauty Breakfast, which is an annual fundraiser for Mary's Mantle, where I work. It is always a beautiful event, hosted at such a lovely venue. Wouldn't you know after the closing neighboring Hades the night before, I left my camera at home.

One of our women gave her testimony, sharing how her mother had pressured her into aborting her child a few years ago (this isn't a unique story), and the pain and struggle that ensued afterward...oh, and that she pressured her again with this last pregnancy, which is when she ended up with us and a beautiful child. Y'all - I just don't get it. The one part of the job I will never get used to (which is likely a good thing), is hearing over and over that mothers will not allow their daughters to live with them if they choose to keep their babies.

I understand that there are situations where treatment facilities are a better option if your child has issues beyond your ability to help them. 99% of these women do not fit that bill. I cannot imagine a day my daughter comes home and says to me she is facing an unplanned pregnancy that I would boot her our of our home. If anything, she will need more of my love and support, no matter how disappointed I might be in the decisions she made to get herself into the situation. I.cannot.imagine. Yet I hear that story over and over and over and over (sometimes from mothers who profess a faith in Christ!) and it makes me cry every.damn.time. I'm tearing up right now writing it. How have we gotten so far off track in our families? I just cannot fathom it. Thank the good sweet baby Jesus that He didn't hold us to the same standards or my butt would be T-O-A-S-T toast! I am so privileged to be able to work in this ministry, despite the bad days and the struggles that come along with it. We have so much work to do, though. So much work.

Whoa nelly, I got on a bit of a roll there, sorry. What I really meant to say was that I ran into my bestie-seester which was a complete surprise, and it was awesome. There are some people in our lives that God sends us to smooth the roughness, and she is one of those peoples for me. You know those friends who by just seeing them you feel your whole body relax and your Spirit lift? Yeah, one of them. It was awesome, and perfectly timed. Thankful for her and my other sisters in Christ who help my spirit be at ease. X to the O to all of you!

--- 7 ---

Speaking of Mother's Day way up in the previous takes, the Hubs went and got creative! He made me a ticket book with things I can redeem like an afternoon away, back rubs (already cashed that puppy in), foot rubs, yada yada yada. Love. He's kinda the best. Even the goofy childlike part of him that went to see Godzilla at a special "see-it-before-it-opens-for-real" screening last night at 10 p.m. (that's like his midnight, which incidentally what he was originally going to do) and texts me that he is tired now. This monster-loving gent is all mine, ladies, all mine!

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WIWS: All In For Jesus

Hot dog, hot dog, hot diggity dog, I'm linking up two weeks in a row with the ladies at Fine Linen & Purple for a little What I Wore Sunday action. Hanging our heads in sane shame here as we split Masses again. I'm under the weather and the Hubs had to work so we decided it would be best not to involve ourselves in a bout of wrastlin' this a of m. He went at 7:30 and then I ran out at 9 to a totally different parish than we normally attend. 

Had the pleasure of seeing Fr. Patrick who was ordained earlier this year celebrate Mass. We have known Fr. Patrick since his days at the seminary through a prayer group we try to frequent. As a Deacon he was placed in the parish that is affiliated with the high school where the Hubs works. This young, exuberant, holy priest is ah-mazing. He had an entire parish chanting at Mass. Loudly. A Catholic parish. Oh, I should clarify. I don't mean Gregorian or Taize. I mean sporting event chanting. No worries, it wasn't for the parish team or anything. He just wanted Jesus to know we were all in. "All in for You!" I have to admit I did fall prey to the giggles at one point watching people get into the chant. My little charismatic rally loving soul was pretty happy, which is a feat when I feel pretty crummy otherwise. Thank you Lord for an answer to prayer! 

I also realized how much I allow my musical preferences to become a stumbling block to me in prayer and Mass. Watching Fr. Patrick's honest enthusiasm for the whole celebration of the Mass was such an inspiration to simply praise God however we are able, whatever the musical style, whatever the parish flavor. It was a much needed reminder that we are there in praise and worship of our Maker, offering ourselves, all of ourselves, and allowing Christ to transform us by this encounter. We are taking in our Lord so we might better reflect His likeness than our fallen natures. So, bluegrass Mass or not, praise God for this grace.

And now, drumroll please....here's what I wore!

Shirt: Thrifted

Pants: Thrifted

Jacket: Thrifted

Boots: JC Penney's

Glasses: Costco

Necklace: GroopDealz

Earrings: Target

Hair: Wind blown 

Makeup: Nonexistent 

Closeup of the pretties

Now I'm going to try to relax and enjoy the rest of naptime at the Casa whilst the Hubs schmoozes at the high school open house. Hope your Sunday is filled with holy rest!

Moments of Grace

So this exchange happened the other night a la "The Twitter."

Well, that got my head and prayer spinning, The Anchoress!

I desire mercy, mercy which flows from grace. The idea of grace has been on my mind a lot lately, especially as it comes to parenting. Not I love you when, but I love you period. El fin. Now and forever.

Same for God's love. He doesn't love us more when we are perfect - He loves us most in that He loves us now, in our muck and mud, in our sin, in our sickness. He didn't come for the righteous, but for the sick. That is the verse that has been with me over the past several years as we continue to politicize righteousness. We don't earn His love. It is grace. Pure grace.

I'm working on showing that kind of grace in my own life - as a daughter, as a wife, as a mother. Where do we draw the line between grace and accountability? It is hard. Everything in me wants to say that it is easier to love you when you don't screw up. The crazy thing about love and grace, though, is that people need it most when we feel they deserve it the least. Jesus didn't die on that cross because we listened to everything He said and obeyed. He died amidst our selfishness, our rebellion, our pridefulness. If He gave up His life for us, the least we can do is offer a bit of that free grace to people in our midst. We are all sinners in need of a savior. We are not that savior. We are not the one who is well while everyone else struggles in sin. We, each and every one of us, struggles in that muck. Some of our sins are more visible, but how unfair to pretend our less visible sin is somehow less sinful, and we are then somehow more righteous? In His mercy we are made well. In His mercy we should be inviting others to recieve that gift of pure love.

Grace, it is all about grace. Come to Jesus who waits with open arms and a bleeding heart now, while you are dirty. The living water will wash you clean as many times as you need Him and surrender yourself to Him. Freely, openly, without reservation - if you come in earnest desiring His mercy, He will pour it upon you in spades. 

One word of caution: it will transform your life if you leave the mud behind and let it. It won't always be easy, it won't mean we won't trip over puddles of mud along the way, it may even mean suffering and face planting in a giant pool of muck, but your life will be transformed for the good.

Are you ready? Then come, let Jesus, the only Savior, embrace you in mercy and healing as He shows you the way to wholeness and eternal joy. Let's walk this road together, shall we?

Easter Isn't Over! A Blog Project Inspired by "The Practicing Catholic"

The eggs may be collected and the leftovers in the fridge, but Easter is not over. It has just begun. While the stores are probably getting ready for the 4th of July, we as an Easter people should be continuing our joyful celebration of Christ's resurrection and preparing ourselves for a new outpouring of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost. We should be taking seriously our call to be an Easter people, to live the mission that Christ has given us - heal the sick, give comfort to the mourning, go out and make disciples. Instead, for many of us, we are rejoicing that our Lenten sacrifice is over - bring on the chocolate, soda, coffee, television [insert Lenten sacrifice here]. This is not what maturity in the Christian faith is about!

Jesus did not pour out his blood on the cross and then rise again from the dead for us to go back to living life as usual. As a Christian, there is no "life as usual." We are called to live in the Spirit. We are told that we will perform greater miracles than He! That doesn't come from "life as usual." It comes from taking risks. It comes from calling on His name and His power. It comes from putting ourselves with those who need Him the most, some of whom make us uncomfortable. Most of all, it comes from allowing ourselves to be filled with His joy and peace. If people look at us as Christians and cannot see a notable difference from the rest of the world, then what good is it to believe? Why would someone want to follow Christ if it makes no difference in their ordinary lives?

We've been watching The Bible mini-series on the History channel. While I will admit that I wasn't head over heels in love with it, I do appreciate what it has done. It has taken the story to the masses as a real and living part of our history. There may be those who tuned in who have never heard the full story before. What it did for me in the finale, was remind me that the story doesn't actually END with the resurrection. The story continues through the centuries starting with the first Apostles leading directly to us in this moment. We, right now, today, are part of the story of salvation. We, right now, today, can bring the power of Jesus into someone's life. That doesn't come by putting away the Easter decorations and getting ready for summer.

I continue to reflect on our experience at the Charism school and Miracle Healing Service that we attended a few weeks ago. This morning, I was wondering if we were perhaps too tepid in our faith for God to pour out his healing in greater numbers. I confessed before that I am a bit of a skeptic given the theatrics we've seen on television with "healers." I was completely convicted this morning that it is my unbelief that keeps me from witnessing greater miracles. It is my own skepticism that keep the Holy Spirit at bay. At Calvary, there were two theives on either side of Jesus. One challenged him to show his works. The other humbly asked to be brought into the kingdom. Too often I am the one challenging Him, and then asking to be brought into the kingdom. Yet this is the season of miracles! This is the season of continuing to grow in our understanding of the mysteries we have just witnessed and preparing ourselves to share them with the world...to the ends of the earth!

Lisa Schmidt over at "The Practicing Catholic" has taken on an Easter challenge that combines a creative writing exercise with the call to continue our Easter celebration. Called "Blogging from A to Z," the challenge is to write a post using the alphabet as our guide to work our way through Easter. She beautifully catechizes with her post "A is for Alleluia." I think this is an excellent challenge for us all, so much so that I'm going to attempt to take up the banner with her. Though our key words may some days be the same (for instance, A really is for alleluia), I'm fairly certain the Holy Spirit will use us quite differently given our unique charisms. I'm going to try to keep up, and would love for you to join me!! Let us sing our Easter song all over the blogosphere!

Messy Grace

As I sit awake with sweet baby J, there are a million thoughts going through my head. Yes, many of them revolve around what might get this poor uncomfortable little boy to sleep through the night, but some venture on the more deeply spiritual, like grace.

Grace is a free gift. We don't earn it, and we can't buy it. Grace, too, is bestowed out of need. No need, no get. Finally, as grace is given freely, it must be received freely as well. God can pour grace out like a monsoon, but if we stand there with a golf umbrella, it won't do us much good.

I get stuck in the messiness of my life right now. The laundry is never done, sleep is usually a pipe dream, my mind is far from a steel trap. I'm realizing though that it is exactly in the midst of this that God pours out his grace upon me. If I take my eyes off of me and turn my eyes toward Him, maybe I can take a big old gulp of that grace I need so badly! It's a good thing I can't usually find my umbrella...

Now, let's get this kid to sleep peacefully, huh???

Raising Rebels: In Conversation with Steve Ray

The Hubs and I have been blessed to be able to be away over the last couple of weekends to go to some Catholic conferences. Last weekend we were at the Charism School at Christ the King in Ann Arbor (which I wrote about here), and this weekend we were at the Michigan Catholic Young Adult Conference in Lansing. In my former life as a young adult minister, I was rather involved in the planning of this conference. Since the littles have come along and I've stopped working in full time ministry, my involvement has...waned, shall we say? I'm quickly aging out of the young adult bracket as well, as I crawl toward the big 4-0, too, so this was a bittersweet year for me as I approached the weekend. God always has better things in mind. What we approach with sadness or fear, he turns to joy and peace. This was no exception.

We had the honor and privilege of having Steve Ray (aka Jerusalem Jones) as our keynote speaker. If you don't know of him, you really should check out his work. His conversion story is pretty amazing. What struck me most about him, though, wasn't the utter wealth of knowledge he possesses, which he does. In listening to him speak, what really amazed me is how much God prepared Steve for His purpose in His time. All the experiences of Steve's life added up to what God was calling him to do. His parents' life and conversion, being raised and trained in the Baptist tradition, the friends he had made...everything led to him being who he is today and what he is doing for the Kingdom. This struck me as especially poignant at a time in life where I'm not always sure what God is preparing me to do or where I belong. Clearly there is a grander plan that is perfect in His time and purpose - I just have to be faithful to what He is calling me to today, big and small. Additionally, we had been trying to book Steve for the conference for three years and something always interfered. I think God was using those who came before Steve to plow the field to make it ready for the message he brought this weekend (along with Bishop Boyea of Lansing and Bishop Cepeda of Detroit). It is one of being on the offensive in our discipleship and armed for our mission of bringing souls to Christ, of reuniting them in love with their God, who loved them so much He gave His life for them. I'm not sure we would have had an audience ready to receive that fully three years ago.

Outside the realm of talks, the Hubs and I were also fortunate enough to be sitting right next to Steve's vendor table, so we took the opportunity to introduce ourselves and chat with him a bit throughout the day. There was one part of the conversations that really struck a chord with me. Steve and his wife have raised four children and have eleven grandchildren (as of now). He was sharing stories about parenting and mentioned a bit about the teenage years. His advice? Raise rebels, but raise them to be rebels for Christ - that's what's truly rebellious in our culture anyway. The years ahead will bring our children many temptations to think they are rebelling when in fact they are just going with the crowd. Don't be afraid to steer them in a rebellious direction arming them with morals and faith. Find them their own rebel army - surround them with friends who will rebel with them and hold each other accountable. Most of all, don't be afraid to be firm - just give them faithful alternatives and always help them to see the truth. Tall order, but one that is really pretty exciting! Who doesn't want to raise a rebel army?!?

This means, of course, that we ourselves have to deepen our faith and stand firm in the truth handed down to us. We need to be intentional about strengthening our friendships with those who are also firm in their faith and raising their families that way. We have to do all this without locking ourselves in a Catholic bubble or living in fear of the culture and the people in it. We have to prepare our children to eat with the sinners as Jesus did to share with them His love and His kingdom (and realize we all fit that bill). We have to be willing to do this ourselves so our children see and understand their identity and role as God's children, and the dignity all people were given created in the image and likeness of God.

Again, it's a tall order, but we absolutely cannot settle for less. There are too many people who wander lost and broken in this world not knowing there is One who has already shed his blood to save them and restore them to the glory of God. What a perfect message as we approach the season of Easter!

Happy Palm Sunday and prayers for a blessed Holy Week!!

7QT: The Week in Review

Not that I'm complaining, but it's Friday again already? 

1) Lessons from Veggie Tales: "For a thankful heart is a happy heart." While we were in the land of Dora for the last year or so (yes, I'm THAT mom that let her kid who wasn't 2 watch television, and probably way more than she should - reference #2 before commenting please), we have now entered the land of Veggie Tales. Can I tell you how much infinitely more sane I feel? Of course, this means I go to work belting "I'm so blue-hoo-hoo, blue-hoo-hoo, blue-hoo-hoo, hooooo," but not only can I stomach the stories more, they often will hit home for me with quite a punch. Scripture is the living Word of God, whether on paper or with cartoon vegetables, after all. At this point we are slightly obsessed with Madame Blueberry (be thankful for what you have and do not always want more "things") and Dave and the Giant Pickle (no matter how "little" you think you are, with God all things are possible). Hmmm, well played, Lord, well played. Use my 2 year old's viewing choices to get your message across. A gentle spring wind would work too.

2) Guilt is sometimes healthy, but we should be in the business of building up, not tearing down and condemning. Confession time: I kind of went off on a rant in a comment to one of my friends on Facebook because of a link she posted to a blog article ranting about Rachel Martin's post, Dear Mom on her iPhone. I deleted it after I woke up fully. While I still believe everything I wrote, I realized I just did exactly what I was chiding the author of the article for doing - ranting when something struck a nerve. Let's face it, that's generally when we rant. Here's the thing - I do believe we need to let go of excessive mom-guilt. Can we qualify it as that, though? Excessive guilt is damaging. A healthy dose of Jiminy Cricket in our ear and on our heart - maybe not so damaging. Guilt can be an indicator that something is askew, and sometimes that is exactly what we need to hear, as long as it is dealt with encouragement and not condemnation. With the blog in question, Rachel convicted me that something needed to change, but knowing her writing, I know she did it with the utmost love and encouragement, not condemnation. If you don't read her regularly, perhaps you didn't know that. Did I feel guilt? Oh heck yeah. Did it change the way I do things? Absolutely. Do I sit and lament about how awful I am if I fall back into old patterns with iPhone use? Not as much. I just dust myself off, get back up, and start over. Like any addiction or bad-habit, it takes time to modify behavior. We all have our issues and challenges - why not acknowledge them and then help and encourage one another to overcome those struggles? It seems while there is an awful lot of unnecessary mom-guilt inducing judgment out there, to react by saying no guilt is good just reinforces the "I'm okay, you're okay" culture which is, like, not okay, okay? (hee hee) There is right and there is wrong, and we need to acknowledge that in our own lives so we can pass it on to our children.

Clearly, these are NOT the Pope's shoes

3) Pope shoes: There has been much ado about Pope Francis since news of his election. Most of it is a breath of fresh air, but some of it is making people nervous. Remind you of anyone else? A certain carpenter, perhaps? Pope Francis has been on the job about a week and is shaking things up! Praise God! Jumping out of the Popemobile to bless someone, greeting all Massgoers after Mass, and now...celebrating Holy Thursday Mass at a juvenile detention center with prisoners. The Holy Father will be presenting a challenge to us all, much like that carpenter from Nazareth. Are we too tied to pomp and circumstance (not that all of it is a bad thing, but are we attached)? Does the fact that he's not wearing red shoes shake your faith? It really shouldn't. I'm quite excited to see what the Holy Spirit has in store for the Church. In essentials, I dare say she will never change, mostly because God already told us that. Not much of a dare, I suppose. With all the hoopla surrounding Pope Francis, there is one strain of commentary that has been troubling me, especially as I was praying last night. While we are in love with our new Holy Father as well we should be, some are using it as an opportunity to make snide commentary about the "policies" or "style" of Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI. I don't think that the Holy Father in any way would desire his new style to create any hostility or lack of charity to our former Pope. The kicker for me last night, though I hardly think that Benedict is on the interwebs, was wondering what it felt like to hear all that about yourself when all you did was serve God according to His will and not your own. Having laid down his life for the Church, to have the churchgoers insinuating that somehow he was less holy and less humble due to the red shoes (which are not Prada - please give that a rest) or formal attire of Pope's past...how hurtful would that be? So, please, be in love with Pope Francis for being what God has called him to be, compare even if you must, but do so with charity in realization that the man you are comparing him with also laid down his life in service for you, regardless of whether you liked his style or not. Thank you kindly.

4) Simplifying isn't always simple. It takes oodles of time. I am learning to be happy with baby steps, so the purging could take a few seasons. I'm actually okay with that. I told you there was a lot of healing and deliverance last weekend! Of course, if someone wanted to find us a couple of days where we didn't have other obligations and would take the kids so we could focus on a room or two with great intensity, I wouldn't mind. :)

5) Oh, Google, what are you doing? Really, is it necessary to dump Google Reader? Well, I guess I am glad I use Feedly, since it seems that is what you'll be using to help us transition to a Google-Readerless world. I'd been searching for an app that would let me read seamlessly on my iDevice, and I finally found my heart's desire with Feedly, mostly. The only thing I don't like is that it doesn't store old posts, but I can get to the blog's website pretty stinking easily to find them on there. Yeah, it's really not a downer at all. So far I'm pleased. How about you? Any suggestions for other apps?

6) My new favorite blog: Catholic and Loving It. The Hubbers had been telling me for quite some time that I would enjoy it, but I never quite got into following blogs until recently. Once again, he was right. I love it. Written by Mark Shea (who I've referenced before with his book, The Work of Mercy), the writing is quirky and sarcastic, but charitable and wise. I pretty much am nodding my head in agreement while trying not to laugh and wake any sleeping children. Love. So go. Check it out if you haven't. Now. Do it. Do it now.

7) I heart sleep. I'm not sure that really is a shocker to anyone, especially moms of littles. I still think it is worth saying out loud sometimes. This past weekend I got to sleep without the interruption of babies or cats for TWO FULL NIGHTS! That's TWO nights of 6+ hours of sleep! To top it off, Baby J even slept through the night for the first time in way too long and I got ONE MORE night of 5+ hours of sleep! Oh, slumber, dear friend, how sweet to see you again. Lest you think I brag, we were back to some wee hour waking last night. Still, we are moving in the right direction and I will take it for now. Plus, I know I have the potential for yet one more night of 6+ hours as we head to another conference this weekend.

And now for a little humor...

Check out other Quick Takes at ConversionDiary.com!

Spicing Up Married Life

Enjoying spaghetti alla
carbonara in Rome on our
honeymoon in 2009....

Before you get too excited, this is just a quick review of Fr. Leo Patalinghug's newest cookbook, "Spicing Up Married Life," which came out in 2012. Ladies, you know how the saying goes - a way to a man's heart is through his stomach... I'm not sure I would bet the farm on that, but a shared meal (and a tasty one at that) can open the door for greater intimacy.

I've mentioned before how hard it can sometimes be for Hubbers and I to connect during the week. With jobs, kids and life, we can often go days without an extensive adult conversation that doesn't focus on the kids' diapers, our to-do list, or our schedule for the week. It's not that we don't want to connect - it just simply happens that sometimes days can go by without us having an opportunity for intimate conversation and prayer, among other things. Heck, some days it's even hard to string together enough full words for one cohesive sentence when we are low on sleep and high on stress!

In Fr. Leo's book, you'll find not only delicious (and fairly simple) meal ideas, but also inspiration for conversation and prayer with your spouse. Fr. Leo's ministry, Grace Before Meals, centers on the premise that mealtime is a grace filled time to grow and connect - not only in the eating, but in the making. With topics such as competition, finance, communication, parenting and more, there is ample material to kickstart some great conversations coupled with suggestions for prayer to open our hearts to draw closer to God together as a family. I'm loving it so far - just check out my Pasta Carbonara (which is a slight deviation from Fr. Leo's recipe - his calls for rigatoni but all we had was spaghetti!)!

7QT: Reflections and Anticipation

Lent is a reflective time. While my new discipline of no personal electronic devices after dinner is not going swimmingly, it has allowed for moments of beautiful reflection and observations with my family. It makes it worth continuing in the battle to detach.

1) I LOVE watching my kids play together. They are innately sweet to each other, and make each other laugh already. Sure, I have to remind Baby J that he can't pull his sister's hair (and I'm guessing I will continue that reminder for years to come), and keep an eye on Li'l G when she gets overeager to help Baby J crawl - no, pushing him actually does NOT make him go faster. Nonetheless, it is a beautiful thing to watch them learn to share and play together - they really get such JOY out of it. 

The way they look at each other with sibling love is not something I could possibly teach - it is just that love that God has placed in their hearts shared without abandon (though sometimes there are screaming and tears). My iPhone doesn't compare in any way, shape or form.

2) Hubbers is a sucker. We keep saying there are way too many toys in the house. Yet, every so often, daddy walks in with a new one because he saw it and knew Li'l G would love it. He's right - she does. He's still a sucker. True confessions time - so am I. For him, it was Jake and the Pirates ball for her to play with. With me, it was Dora and Minnie Mouse socks. Now if only we would see things that didn't involve marketing for television shows that she'd like...

3) I am completely and wholeheartedly looking forward to Easter crafts and festivities with Li'l G. I can't wait to dye eggs, color and go on an Easter Egg hunt. I am already imagining the excitement and joy on her face (and dreading the mean mom "don't make a mess" face I will likely get when she gets overzealous with the colors). Lord, help me to not care about the mess (or make darn sure I prevent as much as possible and have us all in disposable clothing)!

4) With one kid under our belt, I find that we are often comparing Baby J's milestones to Li'l G's. I have to remind myself every time how damaging that habit can become. Li'l G hears everything, and not once do I want her to hear us say she was slow, or that J is more advanced. He is in many ways more advanced with motor skills than she was. She, however, talked much sooner, which has proven to mean she won't stop talking now, of course. It's just different, and we need to be sure we are ever so careful as we marvel at the differences to not compare them as good and bad, but simply different.

Playing is HARD work!

5) I love watching the kids learn and grow. How much fun that I, Mama McCormick, was able to help teach Li'l G to catch a ball. Yes, me. Athletically challenged, little old me. Now, she's no pro, but she is getting the hang of it, especially with that Jake ball that daddy bought her the other day. I think I was more excited than she was. Which leads me to another observation - my excitement for her is contagious. She reflects my reactions. I best be starting to pay attention more closely to how I am responding to her, and make sure I am responding to her and have my nose out of my computer or phone or tv or (insert distraction here). Baby J is not catching quite yet, but he is now pulling himself up to stand on EVERYTHING, stable object or not. He even stood on his own the other day for a second or two. He pulled himself up, then turned around to see something his sister was doing, stepped back, and then realized he was standing without holding something, and sat his little tooshy down. That boy is going to walk far sooner than I'm ready to see, I think. Hubbers says Easter. I'm not sure I disagree, but we'll see.

6) Parenting sometimes makes me feel a little bipolar. I don't intend to make light of the disease - I have good friends who suffer with it and it is difficult. I just don't know another word to describe how I feel a lot of days. One minute, the little have me roasting mad, such that if I were in cartoon form steam would likely be coming out of my ears, and then seconds later they are sweet as pie and I'm in love from my head to my toes. What word would you use for that? Makes me quite crazy really. I do love those nutty littles.

7) I do love social media, Facebook specifically. I've been able to connect with family I haven't seen or talked to in over 15 years, and feel as though we can be part of each others' lives even half a world away. Most of them are in India, and I didn't grow up with them down the street or even a quick plane ride away. It is so expensive to travel halfway across the world, that I likely only saw them a total of 6 times my whole life. Facebook makes it possible for us to now, as adults, really connect and keep in touch in a way that we were never able as children. It's as though a little part of me I never knew was missing appeared. In other ways, social media allows the opportunity to take our hands and feet global without leaving our seat. We can encourage, inspire and act with the help of others around the world to spread the Good News and to help those who are struggling. We can be present in real time as events unfold. We no longer need to be by-standers. The caveat is that we need to get out of our seats and use our hands and feet in concrete terms where we are planted and where we have the privilege to travel also. Screen time (and FaceTime) never replaces real live face time. Computers cannot give an embrace. Computers cannot serve a meal. Computers cannot lift their prayers. We have to do that in a very physical way as well.

And that's all for this edition! (Notice how I got the hands and feet in there? Yeah, it was a little contrived.)

A Belated Worship Wednesday

Yes, I know it's Thursday. And yes, I know worship is far deeper than music and videos. Now that my disclaimers are out of the way, hopefully putting your mind at ease about my sanity and apparent piety (or lack thereof), here's another glimpse at part of the transforming mashup blog. Every (ish) Wednesday (ish), will be Worship Wednesday, where I share a song that lifts my spirit to heaven and pulls me into the heart of Christ. Clearly, not all of you will like my selections - they are in nature personal preferences which give a glimpse of my personal relationship with Jesus.

Here's the deal - you don't like my picks? You can guest post! If you have a song (with an appropriate video link) that moves you into deep worship and you want to share, write me with the link, the name of the song & artist, and a short description of why you like the song/artist. That's all there is to it! And now, a little Matt Maher.

Matt Maher has quickly become my favorite Christian artist. In no small part it is because he is Catholic, but has bridged the gap between Catholic and non-Catholic Christian music. His music is current, with the quality mirroring what you would find in secular music. He himself is one of the most humble and holy men I have ever met - given the possibility of a bulging ego, he has absolutely none. In addition, moms, he is a father of a toddler - send him your prayers! ;)

He has introduced Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament to audiences who may never in their lives have met the Lord in this way, and may even in their theology think that's off. And yet, through his music, and through his own relationship with Christ, he has brought them into worship in that way. Here is Holy, Holy, Holy by Matt Maher - you can find this on a couple of Christian Music compilations, or by searching Matt Maher on iTunes.