Into the Light; The Series Archives

“I Am Third” | A Wood Pallet Sign

December 5, 2012 By Laura 9 Comments

It’s always a great day, when I finally get something OUT of my head, and am able to find the time to bring it to life, and have it real and in front of me. It makes me happy because, there’s a whole lot in my head, that never (ever) gets out! I wish I could do all of the projects that I actually think of, but I have other joyful obligations too, than just being all artsy 24/7. So only a small percentage of my notions ever actually come to be.
I’m really glad this one did though, because it’s a meaningful one in our home.

The vision was a wood pallet sign. And we usually have no shortage of those, as this is what our driveway often looks like . . . . . .

. . . . and there’s more where those came from. Michael is able to get them from work by the load anytime. Many of them he chops up and we burn in our wood stove. Free wood is always good! But they are great for many other things too. And a pallet was perfect for my idea for the sign I wanted to make.

The theme of the sign is a phrase we are fond of in our family, and try to live by, and it is this:

I am third.
You may well guess all on your own.
Like all families with many kids, one of my tasks as a parent is to teach my children to always put God first, be compassionate of others, and make great efforts to be selfless whenever possible. Having triplets, you can imagine we’ve had many teachable moments and conversations about this kind of thing from toddler-hood on up, while encouraging them to share, and not grow with any kind of mindset that our own wants and needs should always or ever be first. That’s just not how we roll, as Christians. Of course, this philosophy of serving, goes far beyond the constraints of our family, and the walls of our home. It applies to our world and every day we live in it, and with all whom we interact with across the board, from absolute strangers, to acquaintances, to loved ones a part of our personal lives, and everyone in between whom we happen upon daily . I want that to stick with my kids, as they grow older in their faith, and take on this world, with all of their plans and dreams before them. It can only help, for each one of us to be reminded often.

And so with another an extra piece of plywood, some old extra nails we had on hand, and some paint and a brush, the pallet sign I saw in my head for so long, was created:

Because of the list form of my idea, I saw the pallet as the perfect material for the sign.
It was cut down to a size of about 20″ x 27″.

I wanted it kept as simple as possible. Rustic, raw, and straightforward. Sure, it may not always be easy to live the message.
But God always forgives us, and we always have the opportunity to keep on trying.
It is a simple concept to remember, in terms of the priorities we want to strive to serve in our life:
God
Others
Self

For some reason, I always saw it in this darker red. When it came time to paint, I stopped and considered other colors.
But I really needed to create it just as I had envisioned it for so long. Or else I could go crazy.

Michael hung it up the very same day. Right there where we all see it, again and again, every day. He loves it as much as I do.
I suppose others may come into our home, start to read it, and be a little perplexed. But one of the most cherished things about having a home to me, is making it a place that is meaningful to our family. It’s the little things, that are personal and of the heart, that make it feel like home. And this sign….. and all it says….it means something to us. It’s an awareness that we want to be reminded of, again and again. Not just the kids. But all of us. I know I can use such a gentle reminder, as often as anyone else.

There is lots more space on this particular wall in our open living space, up there with the clock. The wall is much bigger than it even appears in this photo, with the cathedral ceiling. We realize the sign is so flush left, and leaves the wall as a whole quite unbalanced. But we’re ok with that for now. Soon enough, the wall all around the clock will be filled with other things that mean something to us. Maybe more signs. Who knows. But we have no desire to rush these things, just to fill up and balance the wall. It’s what is hanging there, that matters to us.
All of the space? Well, that’s what I call inspiration. Like a blank sheet of lined paper, or a canvas. The possibilities are endless, and exciting.

The kids have really embraced the lesson, most days. But when they are together and it’s needed, because one, or some, or all are reverting back to looking out for themselves over little things, I like to remind them:
“If everyone put everyone else second, you’ll always actually be second, too! Not third. Right? So just be a good example.” ; )
I’m a tricky Mama. ; )

I wonder what I’ll be able to get out of my head, next.

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On Faith, Gardening, and Digging Deep.

May 2, 2012 By Laura 9 Comments

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Our family really loves Sundays. It’s just a feel-good-family day, all the way around.

This past Sunday after Mass, we all came home, and changed into our old clothes, so that we could get working in our garden beds. Oh, the butterflies I get this time of year! It’s almost time for planting, so we needed to get all of the winter rye that we had growing in the beds, chopped down, and turned into the soil. There is much to do, to create soil rich enough to produce well for us.

cultivating-faith-gardening Whenever I’m working in the gardens, especially in the planting season, my thoughts most always turn to my faith in God. In my mind, there are many parallels, between the process of gardening, and one’s day to day faith.

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The Dirt on Gardening

With gardening, we put so much into all we hope for. We cultivate the soil, nourish it, and plant our tiny seeds or little starters, where they will receive the proper amount of light. We water them daily, if nature does not send us sufficient rain. We wait and keep watch daily, with great anticipation. Our eyes seek for a sprout. Some sign of growth. For the fruits of our labor, to reveal itself. Although we may enjoy all we put into our gardens along the way, the reward is the great surplus each plant provides for us, whether it be beauty or food, from the little seed we began with.

Cultivating Our Hearts

Isn’t that much like how our faith begins? At some point in our lives, a seed of faith in God, was planted within many of us. Whether we were aware of that exact moment happening, or not. For many of us, that may have been as babies, and nourished throughout our upbringing, from our parents. For others, it may have come much later in life. Perhaps it began with circumstances in life, or one’s own seeking for something they felt was missing. But for all of us, our spirituality can only grow and bloom, when we have given our time to cultivate that most important relationship in our lives. When we have turned to Him, in times of thanksgiving and praise, and in times of need and despair, as well. When we have spent time daily, in communion with our Savior, Jesus Christ – in thought, in prayer, in praise, in a way that keeps our heart open to Him.

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To Know God, is to Better Revel in Life

Our faith in God, and our relationship with Christ, we believe is what enables us to experience a more elevated state of joy in our days here on earth. Our eyes are open to the abundant blessings that rains down on us, and all around us. We know that all good things come to us, by the grace of His loving hand. Our hearts rejoice, for the love He shows us. Likewise, we have learned, we are wise to give thanksgiving, even for the most difficult trials and tribulations in our lives. Even they have great purpose, and bring forth blessings of their own. It is easy to question God, isn’t it? We want to know why, for each one of our sufferings. But we know deep down inside, God’s love for us is pure, and beyond measure. He is there to comfort us, He does only want what is best for us, and only He knows the big picture of ours lives.

God is good. God is always good!

Even on the Darkest of Days

Oh, we know friends, the devastation life can bring. Unexpected tragedies, life-threatening or terminal illnesses, lost lives of people we love, unemployment and financial hardships, betrayals and broken hearts….the list is endless. We know….it is touching the lives of people we know and love, all around us, too. Our family too, is not untouched by the hardships and disappointments of our own, that can roll in like the tide, leaving a mess on our seashore of life, that was so clean and beautiful yesterday. The memory of what was, leaves us longing, and we wonder if we appreciated it enough, while we had it. We wonder when the tide will ever come in again, to sweep the mess away.

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Inclement Elements

Despite the time and attention we have invested in our gardens, or our daily spirituality, there is always the threat of damaging elements, that can come along on any given day, to deal with for a time. In both the daily lives we live, as well as the weather, there are storms. They must be faced with courage. We must persevere. We must stand on the greatest asset we have, which is our faith, in the most difficult of times, and believe that God will help bring us through our trials, to the other side of the storm.

His love for us is filled with many promises, that are grace….

Sticky Note This

It is easy to forget, for we get wrapped up in this physical life. But we would be wise to remember, and take comfort in knowing, that ultimately, we are not meant for this world. The greatest gifts of all, a life free of any and suffering, are promised to us eternally, beyond our earthly days.

It is the mustard seed of faith, from within our hearts, that we know as truth, that always offers the light of hope.

“The Light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it” – John 1:5

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Pass It On, to the Littles

By our side, our children learn about the complexities of life. From the day they are born, they experience all of the happiness, wonders, and beautiful gifts of life, as well as the realization that the world is not a perfect place, and that bad and sad things can happen, even to good people. And the value of our faith, through it all!

Parenting is our beautiful opportunity, to build up in them character to live a life pleasing to God! Thankfully, as homeschoolers, we have that ability to navigate when and how our children awake to the challenges of life, and realities of this world. I can tell you that there are many raw, honest, and deep discussions that take place, with our children. It’s a beautiful time of connection, between us all. But as a parent, to see the revelations unfold within them, is such a heart-wrenching honor. We cannot shield them from all of the hurts and truths that life can bring. Doesn’t a piece of every parent’s heart, want to? But no, it would be a great dis-service to them, to keep them ignorant to the harsh realities of life, for long.

What we can do, is arm them well, with the tools of our never-failing faith, and a strong faith in our God, who never leaves us.

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Expect a Mixed Forecast, But Take Heart

Life can bring the greatest moments of laughter and happiness. We cannot count the ways in which we have been blessed! Our days can be filled with such sunshine, contentment and peace. But when the dark storms of life circumstances descend upon us, our faith can feel diminished, to the size of a mustard seed. It can be very difficult to find solace in our faith, so small and buried.

But those are the times we need our faith, more than ever! If we have allowed ourselves to be filled with bitterness and anger, it can be difficult to bring ourselves to reach. To be humble enough, to express such a need, in the face of feeling abandoned. We must find the seed though, that we alone have neglected, shriveling again in the questioning of God’s love for us. Maybe we turn away from God in anger, confused, but He never leaves us alone. We must get back to the seed of our faith, and begin again. Because it holds all of the promises, and all of the strength from the graces of receiving the Sacraments, that we need to carry us through. So that peace and contentment can be ours again. In time, if we turn our face upwards to Him again, and open our hearts, we will see He was always at work within us, through the storm. God heals hearts. Let Him!

“You will grieve, but your grief will turn into joy.” John 16:20

Light Into Darkness, and Back Again

Maybe that is part of His plan all along…..to bring us to the point where we realize, we actually need Him. To make us seek His grace. He wants us to know the comfort of His love. He wants to help us see His face…..the Light, in the darkness. To truly know Him and need Him, so that we always walk beside Him, and realize that He only wants to lead us to something greater. Don’t we always appreciate the light shining on all that is beautiful, the most after we have experienced such darkness?

Are you experiencing darkness, in this period of your life? Are you resistant, or wrestling, to sense the great faith you had on better days?

Your hope and solace, is in the mustard seed, friend. Sometimes, when we have neglected all we have built up in faith, we must begin again. In doing so, God promises our gardens can not only flourish again, but bring forth more fruit than we ever dreamed for ourselves. His love for us, is that great. That is what He wants for us, and what we truly want, for ourselves.

So we must. dig. deeper.

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Don’t Leave It On The Desk | A Worthy Read for All

May 15, 2011 By Laura 3 Comments

I have an admittance to make. I never read those FWDs (forwards), that show up in my e-mailbox. No matter who has sent it (and I get them from people I truly love), I just delete them, without even opening them first. Because the thing is, there are just so many of them that come, and I know in the end…..some will be worth the read, and some won’t. But I won’t know which is which, until I’ve read each one, and that time I spent reading, is eaten! Wasted time and I, don’t see eye to eye. So I pass on the FWD’s, happily. There’s not enough time in my day, to take chances.

But I was tricked. A good friend of mine shared this one on Facebook, and somehow, I started reading it. I’m always interested in what she has to say. I realized it was getting long, and I needed to get ready for Mass, as it was Sunday morning, but I was already sucked in! So I stuck it out, riveted to the monitor, as a few tears were shed into my coffee cup. I loved it so much, that I decided to share it on our blog. I hope you take the time to read it, too.

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Don’t Leave It On The Desk

A certain Professor of Religion named Dr. Christianson, a studious man, taught at a small college in the western United States.

Dr. Christianson taught the required survey course in Christianity at this particular institution. Every student was required to take this course their freshman year, regardless of his or her major.

Although Dr. Christianson tried hard to communicate the essence of the gospel in his class, he found that most of his students looked upon the course as nothing but required drudgery. Despite his best efforts, most students refused to take Christianity seriously.

This year, Dr. Christianson had a special student named Steve. Steve was only a freshman but was studying with the intent of going onto seminary for the ministry. Steve was popular, he was well liked, and he was an imposing physical specimen. He was now the starting center on the school football team and was the best student in the professor’s class.

One day, Dr. Christianson asked Steve to stay after class so he could talk with him.

“How many push-ups can you do?”

Steve said, “I do about 200 every night.”

“200? That’s pretty good, Steve,” Dr. Christianson said. “Do you think you could do 300?”

Steve replied, “I don’t know…. I’ve never done 300 at a time”

“Do you think you could?” again asked Dr. Christianson.

“Well, I can try,” said Steve.

“Can you do 300 in sets of 10? I have a class project in mind, and I need you to do about 300 push-ups in sets of ten for this to work. Can you do it? I need you to tell me you can do it,” said the professor.

Steve said, “Well… I think I can…yeah, I can do it.”

Dr. Christianson said, “Good! I need you to do this on Friday. Let me explain what I have in mind.”

Friday came and Steve got to class early and sat in the front of the room. When class started, the professor pulled out a big box of donuts. No, these weren’t the normal kinds of donuts, they were the extra fancy BIG kind, with cream centers and frosting swirls. Everyone was pretty excited it was Friday, the last class of the day, and they were going to get an early start on the weekend with a party in Dr. Christianson’s class.

Dr. Christianson went to the first girl in the first row and asked, “Cynthia, do you want to have one of these donuts?”

Cynthia said, “Yes.”

Dr. Christianson then turned to Steve and asked, “Steve, would you do ten push-ups so that Cynthia can have a donut?”

“Sure!” Steve jumped down from his desk to do a quick ten. Then Steve again sat in his desk. Dr. Christianson put a donut on Cynthia’s desk.

Dr. Christianson then went to Joe, the next person, and asked, “Joe, do you want a donut?”

Joe said, “Yes.” Dr. Christianson asked, “Steve would you do ten push-ups so Joe can have a donut?”

Steve did ten push-ups; Joe got a donut. And so it went, down the first aisle, Steve did ten push-ups for every person before they got their donut.

Walking down the second aisle, Dr. Christianson came to Scott. Scott was on the basketball team, and in as good condition as Steve. He was very popular and never lacking for female companionship.

When the professor asked, “Scott do you want a donut?”

Scott’s reply was, “Well, can I do my own push-ups?”

Dr. Christianson said, “No, Steve has to do them.”

Then Scott said, “Well, I don’t want one then.”

Dr… Christianson shrugged and then turned to Steve and asked, “Steve, would you do ten push-ups so Scott can have a donut he doesn’t want?”

With perfect obedience Steve started to do ten push-ups.

Scott said, “HEY! I said I didn’t want one!”

Dr. Christianson said, “Look! This is my classroom, my class, my desks, and these are my donuts. Just leave it on the desk if you don’t want it.” And he put a donut on Scott’s desk.

Now by this time, Steve had begun to slow down a little. He just stayed on the floor between sets because it took too much effort to be getting up and down. You could start to see a little perspiration coming out around his brow.

Dr. Christianson started down the third row. Now the students were beginning to get a little angry. Dr. Christianson asked Jenny, “Jenny, do you want a donut?”

Sternly, Jenny said, “No.”

Then Dr. Christianson asked Steve, “Steve, would you do ten more push-ups so Jenny can have a donut that she doesn’t want?”

Steve did ten….Jenny got a donut.

By now, a growing sense of uneasiness filled the room. The students were beginning to say, “No!” and there were all these uneaten donuts on the desks.

Steve also had to really put forth a lot of extra effort to get these push-ups done for each donut. A small pool of sweat began to form on the floor beneath his face; his arms and brow were beginning to get red because of the physical effort involved.

Dr. Christianson asked Robert, who was the most vocal unbeliever in the class, to watch Steve do each push up to make sure he did the full ten push-ups in a set because he couldn’t bear to watch all of Steve’s work for all of those uneaten donuts. He sent Robert over to where Steve was, so Robert counted the set and watched Steve closely.

Dr. Christianson started down the fourth row. During his class, however, some students from other classes had wandered in and sat down on the steps along the radiators that ran down the sides of the room. When the professor realized this, he did a quick count and saw that now there were 34 students in the room. He started to worry if Steve would be able to make it.

Dr. Christianson went on to the next person and the next and the next. Near the end of that row, Steve was really having a rough time. He was taking a lot more time to complete each set.

Steve asked Dr. Christianson, “Do I have to make my nose touch on each one?”

Dr. Christianson thought for a moment, “Well, they’re your push-ups. You are in charge now. You can do them any way that you want.” And Dr. Christianson went on.

A few moments later, Jason, a recent transfer student, came to the room and was about to come in when all the students yelled in one voice, “NO! Don’t come in! Stay out!”

Jason didn’t know what was going on. Steve picked up his head and said, “No, let him come.”

Professor Christianson said, “You realize that if Jason comes in you will have to do ten push-ups for him?”

Steve said, “Yes, let him come in. Give him a donut.”

Dr. Christianson said, “Okay, Steve, I’ll let you get Jason’s out of the way right now. Jason, do you want a donut?”

Jason, new to the room, hardly knew what was going on. “Yes,” he said, “give me a donut.”

“Steve, will you do ten push-ups so that Jason can have a donut?”

Steve did ten push-ups very slowly and with great effort. Jason, bewildered, was handed a donut and sat down.

Dr. Christianson finished the fourth row, and then started on those visitors seated by the heaters. Steve’s arms were now shaking with each push-up in a struggle to lift himself against the force of gravity. By this time sweat was profusely dropping off of his face, there was no sound except his heavy breathing; there was not a dry eye in the room.

The very last two students in the room were two young women, both cheerleaders, and very popular. Dr. Christianson went to Linda, the second to last, and asked, “Linda, do you want a doughnut?”

Linda said, very sadly, “No, thank you.”

Professor Christianson quietly asked, “Steve, would you do ten push-ups so that Linda can have a donut she doesn’t want?”

Grunting from the effort, Steve did ten very slow push-ups for Linda.

Then Dr. Christianson turned to the last girl, Susan. “Susan, do you want a donut?”

Susan, with tears flowing down her face, began to cry. “Dr. Christianson, why can’t I help him?”

Dr. Christianson, with tears of his own, said, “No, Steve has to do it alone; I have given him this task, and he is in charge of seeing that everyone has an opportunity for a donut whether they want it or not.. When I decided to have a party this last day of class, I looked at my grade book. Steve here is the only student with a perfect grade. Everyone else has failed a test, skipped class, or offered me inferior work. Steve told me that in football practice, when a player messes up he must do push-ups. I told Steve that none of you could come to my party unless he paid the price by doing your push-ups. He and I made a deal for your sakes.”

“Steve, would you do ten push-ups so Susan can have a donut?”

As Steve very slowly finished his last push-up, with the understanding that he had accomplished all that was required of him, having done 350 push-ups, his arms buckled beneath him and he fell to the floor.

Dr. Christianson turned to the room and said, “And so it was, that our Savior, Jesus Christ, on the cross, plead to the Father, ‘Into thy hands I commend my spirit.’ With the understanding that He had done everything that was required of Him, He yielded up His life. And like some of those in this room, many of us leave the gift on the desk, uneaten.”

Two students helped Steve up off the floor and to a seat, physically exhausted, but wearing a thin smile.

“Well done, good and faithful servant,” said the professor, adding, “Not all sermons are preached in words.”

Turning to his class, the professor said, “My wish is that you might understand and fully comprehend all the riches of grace and mercy that have been given to you through the sacrifice of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. God spared not His Only Begotten Son, but gave Him up for us all, for the whole Church, now and forever. Whether or not we choose to accept His gift to us, the price has been paid.”

“Wouldn’t you be foolish and ungrateful to leave it lying on the desk?”

Share this with someone. It’s bound to touch their heart and demonstrate Salvation in a very special way.

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Big Furniture Refinish } A Work of Heart

May 10, 2011 By Laura 51 Comments

This is the biggest furniture refinish I have done, yet. (Well, my husband did very kindly help me. I worked pretty hard on it too, though.)
But as big of a job as it was for my hands, it was a much bigger job, for my heart.

(‘Before’ thumbnail. The ‘After’ is a must see!)

refinishing furniture This is my mother’s dresser. My mother passed away very suddenly, in 2005. Her passing hit me like a train, and threw me into a grieving like I had never known. In the state of fog & hurt I lived in, one month after another, the only other thing I was aware of at all, was the depth of grief my father was in. It was hard to watch him go through all he was. I honestly don’t know which hurt more.

This dresser was the only one my mother ever had, in all of my years growing up, since the day I was born. Except for a few sets of sheets, the drawers of it have been empty for the past several years, since my sister and I cleaned out my mother’s clothing together. But the rest of the house my father has kept exactly, as my mother had it. People say things to him about that, but he can’t understand why anyone thinks he would change anything.

My youngest daughter had moved out of the bedroom she had shared with her triplet brothers, and into her very own room. I gave her my old white iron twin daybed, from my adolescent years, but she still needed a bureau of some kind. One night, as I lay in bed, unable to sleep, I got to thinking about what kind of dresser would go best in her room, and when I came up with a long dresser with a mirror, I immediately got thinking about my mother’s.

My intention right along, had been to find an antique or used dresser somewhere in my hunting, and refinish it. We don’t buy much of anything new. But when I remembered my mother’s, I knew I had more thinking to do. You see, I knew my father wasn’t going to use it again. He has the tall dresser, that goes with this one. When he sells the house, I knew he would either sell the dresser in an estate sale, or sell it with the house. But one way or another, he wouldn’t be taking it with him, because he didn’t need it.

My issue was, the dark finish and style of the dresser, didn’t go with {O}’s room at all, or our home’s farmhouse style in general. But, when it comes to sentimental matters, I am also the type, that doesn’t like things to change. I want everything to stay the same – which is why I take such comfort in going to my parent’s home, where my father is, and everything is just as my mother left it. My mother would be there too, if I had any say in that.

So the idea of refinishing this dresser, of my mother’s, was hard to think about. Just the vision of it, just as it is, with every detail, brings back memories. It’s such a part of my history, and my parent’s. But it was either take it and refinish it, or let the whole thing go to some stranger, who never even knew my mother. I decided changing it was a easier to handle, than letting it go altogether.

I talked to Michael about it the next morning, and called my father that afternoon, to ask him about it. I was tentative, to tell him about the refinishing part. (Yikes!) He did pause for a second of silence, when I got to that part of my plan. But I wasn’t sure in the moment, if it bothered him because it was my mother’s, or if he didn’t get why I would do that. I guessed it was the latter, knowing him pretty well, and a couple of questions later, I found I was right. I figured, even if he was OK with me refinishing it, he wouldn’t understand why I would bother. (Because he wouldn’t even think of it….because it works as is!) “Why would you do that?” “Because Dad, it doesn’t go with her room. At all.” I could hear him trying to wrap his brain around it. He’s just a simple guy, who is not at all about home decor, etc. If it works, it’s good! If it’s comfortable, it doesn’t matter what it looks like. But he was fine with whatever I wanted to do with the dresser. And he insisted on bringing it down to us, even though Michael had every intention of going out to western MA to get it.

I knew he would insist on driving it down, and as soon as possible. He always makes sure we understand, “Anything you guys ever need, just ask me. I mean it.” He means it. There is nothing he wouldn’t do for us. The dresser arrived in the back of his van, which arrived in our driveway, that weekend.

It was a beautiful day, so we got right to sanding it down, before it even came into the house. I did need to take a deep breathe, and push my hesitancy away, before I let the sander hit the surface. But after I took some ‘before’ photos!

I could see the dresser, all refinished just as I wanted it, in my head. I went to Home Depot myself that week, and found what I was hoping I would, for the original hardware – which I definitely wanted to keep! It was the design of the hardware, that that really marked the dresser as my mother’s, and part of my parent’s set.

The spray paint I chose, was brushed nickel.

The tone was so beautiful.

The dresser itself, was a whole lot of work. A lot. Sanding, painting, steel wooling, and the high & smell of denatured alcohol, that was stuck in my head. It was a big piece to work on. So much to it. My hands took a beating.

But the labor of it all, was therapeutic in a way, too. It was a process I needed to go through. Accepting change, and looking it in the eye, whether it is easy, or welcome, or not. Knowing inside, that the only thing that is ever guaranteed to never change, is the memories born in the minutes and years that pass by.

Time marches on.

The dresser came out absolutely beautiful, I think. I totally love it, refinished. It now goes so perfectly, with the rest of {O}’s bedroom.

But it’s funny to me that, as completely different as it looks now, I somehow still see my mother’s dresser.

Every time I see the hardware, I am back in my parent’s bedroom(s), or I actually hear in my head, the clinking sound it makes, when the drawer is closed and the handle is let go. I heard it for 21 years, or something.

The dresser has new history now.

{O} now has her grandmother’s dresser, and she watched her parent’s refinish it with love, just for her.

I can’t tell you how many times, I used this big mirror myself, growing up in a house with 5 kids, and one bathroom.

I can even easily imagine the many things of my mother’s on the dresser top, that were there for so many years.

{O} is slowly covering it, with her own things, now.

She knows it’s her Meme’s dresser, and it makes her happy to have it in her room, and call it her own, now.

Things change. It’s a part of life.

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And yet some matters of the heart, inside, never do.

No matter what it looks like, on the outside.

Sometimes, letting go, is all we can do.

While we hold on to whatever we can, as best we can.

I’m so happy I thought of getting my mother’s dresser, before it was too late.

I miss her so very much, and it was hers.

Nothing I do to it, can ever change that.

******

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Easter Reflection (by Laura)

April 26, 2011 By Laura 2 Comments

They found the stone rolled away from the tomb; but when they

entered,they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. ~Luke 24:2

I am still very much growing, in my faith, and particularly in my Catholic faith. I imagine I always will be. Or I hope that will be the case, anyway. For every Liturgical Season that I live through, I find a little more seeps in. I grasp a familiar Scripture a little more than before, as the clarity of the story is as real as a movie playing in my mind….I am there, I see, I smell, I feel. I forget where I physically am. And then the message of it all, speaks to me on a personal level, in regards to my own life, it’s current circumstances, and my own self. The moment of Consecration; when the bread and wine transforms into the living Body and Blood of Christ, makes my heart leap with excitement, and my spirit crave approaching His table once again, and becoming one with Jesus. With every passing season, I find I am falling deeper, and deeper, in love with my Catholic faith.

But there is no denying, that the connection and attention I earnestly pay to my faith, ebbs and flows from day to day, week to week, and month to month. It depends on how much is going on in my life, what is going on in my life, what kind of focus I have had lately anyway, and what Liturgical Season we are in. How much I have so weakly let myself become distracted with earthly matters and struggles, which are only temporary, as we all know.

So it most always starts out with Lent, as is did this year. Not every year – but some, and maybe most. Certainly this year. Ash Wednesday approaches, and I think, “Really? Already? When is Easter? It’s only 40 days away?”

So naturally we attend this Holy Day of Obligation, Ash Wednesday, and our Lenten journey begins. By then I have reviewed with the children once again, in our morning Scripture study/prayer time together, about this period in our faith and life that comes every year, and how important it is to prepare ourselves for the coming events. And I have also made my Lenten choices to live by, in hopes of ultimately growing yet a little closer still, to Christ, by the time Easter arrives.

But as I do all of this, at the start of Lent (certain years), it’s admittedly all too much like mere obligations. Motions I go through, as it is just time to do these things. I am shamefully aware of how emotionally or passionately disconnected I am, from this annual journey I am embarking on once again. As the days pass, I stay true to my Lenten choices, and try to take the time to reflect on how they should be helping me grow. But I fleetingly question it, brushing away the weight of guilt I feel inside. I know I am not paying enough attention, and I am struggling with truly giving the attention and time needed, to invest my heart as it should be.

The more Easter draws closer, the more I fear; I am really going to blow it, this year. I’m down on myself about it, yet I don’t do enough, to really change it, really. Maybe because I am afraid it won’t help anyway. Or maybe because I am, again…..too weak and distracted to switch gears as I know I should. Whatever the reason, I acknowledge I am lacking inspiration, for THE-most-important-season of my Catholic faith. Instead of seeking the inspiration, putting the time in, giving it a chance to all come together, I carry on as I have been. With a piece of me inside, quietly puzzled, confused,…..maybe lost?

Then comes Holy Week, and everything changes. It’s as if my Father loves me too much, to let me, let myself down.

The call gets louder, and my spirit and heart respond more readily. The Holy Spirit invades me with a vengeance, with no denial of it’s presence within me, and gets my attention once and for all. I find myself alive. Intrigued. Eager. PRESENT. In heart and mind. Not much else matters to me through the next Triduum of days, as we attend Mass daily. Not much else, can keep my attention. I’m all but mesmerized by the events of these days in Jesus’ life on earth, that played out exactly according to the Scripture. Emotions are at their surface, for me during this time. My mind is focused, and my heart is full of so much,….ever changing. Holy Thursday; Jesus’ last supper with his disciples, the betrayal to come, the agony in the garden, as he sweat drops of blood. His knowing what lied before Him. All that would happen to Him. His acceptance of it as the command of His Father, and His love for us. Good Friday; the deep sadness inside, the thoughts of helplessness I knew His mother must have felt, like others who loved Him and believed he was in fact, the Son of God. The visions of Him being tortured, scourged & spit upon. The heavy cross. The pain and thirst. And mercy. His death. It’s a day of much silence and prayer for us all, as a family. And as I (we) fast, I am filled with such nourishment and satisfaction. I treasure that day with my family, in so many ways. Then Good Friday evolves into Holy Saturday, as we continue to grieve and feel so sacrificed for, with the ultimate price. His life. We find ourselves so thankful and encouraged, that we will celebrate His Resurrection soon, as He said He would, and have good reason to sing ALLELUIA!

Easter is most always a memorable occasion, that we as a family have always enjoyed. But this Easter in particular was the best, most beautiful, most perfect Easter, ever – for me. I was truly rejoicing in my heart the entire day, relishing in the amazement of what Jesus Christ did for me, for you, and for you, and for us all! Realizing, in yet another layer of understanding and truth, just what that means for us all. And cherishing my family, as we celebrated together, knowing how very blessed we are to have each other, and the people in our lives. Loving, how we continue to grow in our Catholic faith, as a family. Happy, that our efforts to keep Christ as the center of the 6 of us as a family unit, no matter what, has been rewarding and given us strength when we have most needed it. In times when others have let us down, time and again, or turned away. He is there. He is always there, always understanding, always forgiving, and with love that does not and will not ever end.

We have all we will ever need.

We have each other.

More importantly, we have Him.

He, who gives us nourishment, strength, and hope.

And has given us the GIFT, of ever-lasting life.

ALLELUIA.

**********

Hoping you had such a blessed & beautiful Easter as well.

(A small collection of photos of the kids, from Easter Day, to come. )

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