Alcove
Kissing His Daughters
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Started the Cello Today
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My boyfriend--you know the one who I've already given five children too--rented me a cello today! I've always wanted to play the cello. This is my Christmas/38th Birthday present from Jon. The best part is that he's teaching himself how to play the violin at the same time. Jon has no music background whatsoever--but he's great! We're having so much fun. We even played our first duet today! I feel like we're both 11 years old again. Marriage is full of wonderful surprises.
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Happy St. Nicholas Day
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On her First St. Nicholas "shoe day", Baby Abigail dumped out her candy and ate her shoe instead. Too cute!
More Urgent Prayers Needed for Little Dominic
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Saturday is a Holy Feast Day. Could you please consider fasting on Thursday Night and during Friday for little Dominic? He came through his major brain surgery so well earlier this week, but now it appears that he's fading fast. His Mom and Dad are keeping a lonely vigil by his hospital bed far from their home tonight.
Thank you for your prayers!
Thank you for your prayers!
NY Times: Modern Love-- A Rare Triumph Story in Praise of Marriage
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This writer * lives near my old neighborhood in the Washington DC Metro area. She writes about marriage (and sobriety) healing her childhood wounds from her parent's divorce.
When I finished reading her ending, I wanted to look her up and take her to lunch!
When I finished reading her ending, I wanted to look her up and take her to lunch!
"I can’t tell you the precise moment I began to believe that my mother’s life would not be mine after all. Or exactly when I stopped looking for my replacement to reveal herself and take away all I had ever wanted.
But I know it was in Maine — before we became city people again, before we moved on to our next adventure. I know it was where we skated on a frozen lake without falling through and dived into its liquid depths when the leafy summer arrived.
I know it was there that I finally realized my husband, my babies and those dormer windows were truly mine."
Great Pro-Life Story
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Knocked out by the honesty in this woman's autobiography "What a Woman in Crisis Really Needs."
"We in the pro-life community need to remember that we stand for life…all life. Just as much as that baby needs to be born, the mother needs her child to be born. Becoming a mother is a powerful thing, and I can tell you from experience that a child can bring new-found strength to a woman in a terrible place."
Amen! I can say that a new woman was born in me the same day I gave birth to my Hannah.
St. Nicholas, pray for us!
"We in the pro-life community need to remember that we stand for life…all life. Just as much as that baby needs to be born, the mother needs her child to be born. Becoming a mother is a powerful thing, and I can tell you from experience that a child can bring new-found strength to a woman in a terrible place."
Amen! I can say that a new woman was born in me the same day I gave birth to my Hannah.
St. Nicholas, pray for us!
Happy St Nicholas Day!
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Today Baby Abigail got her first "candy filled shoe." She took the candy out and ate her shoe. Love this age!
Henry and James, Case Studies for Prayer Warriors
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One week ago, Henry died.
I know it seems crazy to write this, but I never saw it coming. The day after Henry died, I went running. (a new thing for me). There are some conversations I can have with God only while my legs are moving and my breath hurts in the winter air. Henry's death was one of those those things.
I felt like all my prayer intentions for Mr. H were like crumpled sheets of paper after his death. Messy notes I had to pass over to God weeks before I was ready for the final draft. It was hard.
I really thought that Henry's spinal surgery would work and one day he would walk--right here on earth. Henry's Mom went through a lot of painful suffering during his many hospital stays. It was easy for me to remain hopeful and prayerful during her struggles because I had such a clear mental image of Henry running into his mother's arm around age 4. "This is all so hard for Carla right now," I'd think. "Yet it will all be worth it when Henry can run!"
God's ways are not our ways.
It's really hard when the things that we ask for from God don't happen. Especially, when we said our prayers with confidence and trust.
Henry's death is a reminder to me of my humility. My prayers are not magic spells. God's ways are far, far above my own--and his plans are far better than I can see in the moment.
Bonnie's son, James, was a lesson to me that no prayer intention is too "hard" for God to fix. I need to confidentially pray my heart out for even the most seemingly hopeless medical cases.
Henry's death is a different lesson. Henry teaches me that my prayers are never, ever wasted. I might not see the results that I'd like to witness on earth--but my messy prayer notes are always treasured by God. My prayerful heart make a difference, however, small. Prayer is time well spent.
Pray for us, Mr. H. We miss you!
I know it seems crazy to write this, but I never saw it coming. The day after Henry died, I went running. (a new thing for me). There are some conversations I can have with God only while my legs are moving and my breath hurts in the winter air. Henry's death was one of those those things.
I felt like all my prayer intentions for Mr. H were like crumpled sheets of paper after his death. Messy notes I had to pass over to God weeks before I was ready for the final draft. It was hard.
I really thought that Henry's spinal surgery would work and one day he would walk--right here on earth. Henry's Mom went through a lot of painful suffering during his many hospital stays. It was easy for me to remain hopeful and prayerful during her struggles because I had such a clear mental image of Henry running into his mother's arm around age 4. "This is all so hard for Carla right now," I'd think. "Yet it will all be worth it when Henry can run!"
God's ways are not our ways.
It's really hard when the things that we ask for from God don't happen. Especially, when we said our prayers with confidence and trust.
Henry's death is a reminder to me of my humility. My prayers are not magic spells. God's ways are far, far above my own--and his plans are far better than I can see in the moment.
Bonnie's son, James, was a lesson to me that no prayer intention is too "hard" for God to fix. I need to confidentially pray my heart out for even the most seemingly hopeless medical cases.
Henry's death is a different lesson. Henry teaches me that my prayers are never, ever wasted. I might not see the results that I'd like to witness on earth--but my messy prayer notes are always treasured by God. My prayerful heart make a difference, however, small. Prayer is time well spent.
Pray for us, Mr. H. We miss you!
Urgent Prayer Request--For Baby Dominic
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One of the little babies I've loved since before his birth is currently on the surgery table at a Children's Hospital in Boston. Can you please pray a Hail Mary for him?
Many thanks!
Many thanks!
A New Saint Nicholas Day Tradition
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A Virtual Bridal Shower--Helping a Religious Vocation
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So many good things happening this Advent! Yet could you please help one young woman attain "the better part?"
Sarah Golden is a longtime friend of my Baby Abigail's godmother. She is trying to enter the Poor Clare Order. She has significant student loan debt that must be paid off before she enters this order.
Sarah is currently acting as a fundraiser for Priestly and Religious Vocations at the Laboure Society.
Here is a link to her fundraising page. Could you please give her $10 or $5?
Here is a special offer to female readers of Abigail's Alcove. Chances are, you are going to get a wee stressed Christmas shopping this Advent. Instead of buying a $4 Starbucks coffee treat while you fret over the gigantic size of your Christmas gift list and the littleness of your wallet, be pro-active. Go donate $4 on Sarah's pledge page. (The fancy spiritual term is called "giving alms"). Then leave a comment below.
I will collect all donors names listed in the next 72 hours and forward them to Sarah via email. She will pray for all of us to have a peaceful, happy Advent--and life will be better.
Thank you!
Sarah Golden is a longtime friend of my Baby Abigail's godmother. She is trying to enter the Poor Clare Order. She has significant student loan debt that must be paid off before she enters this order.
Sarah is currently acting as a fundraiser for Priestly and Religious Vocations at the Laboure Society.
Here is a link to her fundraising page. Could you please give her $10 or $5?
Here is a special offer to female readers of Abigail's Alcove. Chances are, you are going to get a wee stressed Christmas shopping this Advent. Instead of buying a $4 Starbucks coffee treat while you fret over the gigantic size of your Christmas gift list and the littleness of your wallet, be pro-active. Go donate $4 on Sarah's pledge page. (The fancy spiritual term is called "giving alms"). Then leave a comment below.
I will collect all donors names listed in the next 72 hours and forward them to Sarah via email. She will pray for all of us to have a peaceful, happy Advent--and life will be better.
Thank you!
My Secret to a Happy Life: Pleasing Only One
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As head cook, I'm in the process of reinventing our standard meal plan for the week. (Do More, With Less). I found this great, easy Quiche recipe. Now I can slip out of bed on Saturday morning, make a quick Quiche and coffee, and then crawl back into bed for cuddles and Morning Prayer.
I felt pretty excited. Easy French food for seven! Then all the complaints started rolling in. Mimi only likes it when I made it with straight eggs and cream-- no cheese. Alex hates the crust. Hannah prefers pancakes and eggs. I started to problem solve--"well, maybe I'll make two breakfast quiches, one with a crust and one without a crust, etc." Over all the din, my husband loudly proclaims--"I love it! Don't worry about the kids. You're cooking to please only me in this house. Cook it again and again, please!"
It sounded so shocking to hear this job description from my husband. "Cooking to please only him?" Surely part of my job as a Mom is to make healthy food that my kids will actually eat? We talked about it in depth and I realized that the Holy Spirit (working through Jon) was handing me a ticket out of "crazyville".
I now have five kids. It is impossible to make them food that they will all like, all the time. I will drive myself crazy trying to cater to five distinct tastebuds every day. Moreover, they are kids! Totally fluid, moving targets. One day they hate asparagus, the next they announce it's their favorite food and why didn't I make more? In contrast, my husband "is pleaseable." He's a stable adult. It's possible for me to figure out what he likes at the dinner table and how to cheaply serve it on a regular basis.
Moreover, "pleasing only one" is more holy--because I'm not pleasing myself. For example, I'm lazy on a Saturday and I hate eating a big breakfast early in the morning. If it was up to me, I'd make only toast. However, by gently pushing myself a little bit--I can make up a yummy Quiche in 5 minutes--and then go back to bed while it cooks. (A doable task). But it's not as hard as poaching eggs or flipping pancakes for a hungry crew of seven--which pushes me so far out of my lazy Saturday morning comfort zone that I'm grumpy and irritable for breakfast. (A much harder task, that becomes almost impossible while breastfeeding or pregnant)
Finally, what do I want to model for my kids? Dinner means eating chicken fingers every night? A meal time that is catered only to them? Or do I continue to put delicious meals in front of them and trust that at some point they most likely will change their mind? (Of course, any kid who won't eat is able to go make themselves a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for dinner or brunch, easily.)
I love practicing so concretely in marriage (Pleasing only one, my husband) because it helps me to work on pleasing only one person in all things (Jesus). This Advent Season, that is a workable plan for me!
I felt pretty excited. Easy French food for seven! Then all the complaints started rolling in. Mimi only likes it when I made it with straight eggs and cream-- no cheese. Alex hates the crust. Hannah prefers pancakes and eggs. I started to problem solve--"well, maybe I'll make two breakfast quiches, one with a crust and one without a crust, etc." Over all the din, my husband loudly proclaims--"I love it! Don't worry about the kids. You're cooking to please only me in this house. Cook it again and again, please!"
It sounded so shocking to hear this job description from my husband. "Cooking to please only him?" Surely part of my job as a Mom is to make healthy food that my kids will actually eat? We talked about it in depth and I realized that the Holy Spirit (working through Jon) was handing me a ticket out of "crazyville".
I now have five kids. It is impossible to make them food that they will all like, all the time. I will drive myself crazy trying to cater to five distinct tastebuds every day. Moreover, they are kids! Totally fluid, moving targets. One day they hate asparagus, the next they announce it's their favorite food and why didn't I make more? In contrast, my husband "is pleaseable." He's a stable adult. It's possible for me to figure out what he likes at the dinner table and how to cheaply serve it on a regular basis.
Moreover, "pleasing only one" is more holy--because I'm not pleasing myself. For example, I'm lazy on a Saturday and I hate eating a big breakfast early in the morning. If it was up to me, I'd make only toast. However, by gently pushing myself a little bit--I can make up a yummy Quiche in 5 minutes--and then go back to bed while it cooks. (A doable task). But it's not as hard as poaching eggs or flipping pancakes for a hungry crew of seven--which pushes me so far out of my lazy Saturday morning comfort zone that I'm grumpy and irritable for breakfast. (A much harder task, that becomes almost impossible while breastfeeding or pregnant)
Finally, what do I want to model for my kids? Dinner means eating chicken fingers every night? A meal time that is catered only to them? Or do I continue to put delicious meals in front of them and trust that at some point they most likely will change their mind? (Of course, any kid who won't eat is able to go make themselves a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for dinner or brunch, easily.)
I love practicing so concretely in marriage (Pleasing only one, my husband) because it helps me to work on pleasing only one person in all things (Jesus). This Advent Season, that is a workable plan for me!
Advent is Here
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Oh joyous, happy Advent! This is my favorite church season. I feel like everyone gets to be a Carmelite for four weeks. All the little tasks of Daily Life--the cooking, the cleaning, the waiting in line to buy stamps at the post office, get a little extra zip of grace when you do them for the Christ Child coming at Christmas.
What are your favorite Advent activities?
What are your favorite Advent activities?
Prayer Request for Henry's Family
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Sometime this afternoon, one of my favorite people in this world died, Mr Henry Dobrovits. His Mama Carla was a long time reader of this blog. She insisted that I start praying for her son, while he was still an orphan living in the Ukraine. I think my first urgent prayer request for Mr. H was for some sort of ridiculously impossible, time-sensitive, total reversal in international adoption policy. I prayed sort of half-heartedly, because his Mama was so darn pushy about it. (In the best Italian mother way, of course Carla). She badgered me daily until I promised to pray for him often, to pray for him a lot. To my surprise, the prayers of so many Catholic women worked. Henry came home--quickly.
I stopped by his Mama's blog about his adoption often and before long I was hooked. Mr. H. is a charming soul. Those pictures of him joyfully struggling went straight to my heart. I was his prayer warrior and his cheerleader.
My favorite ever crazy post-op routine was feeding the kid Mc Donald's french fries. Evidently, my little hero always had major issues trying to start eating again after surgery. (Sometime my daughter Tess and I could relate too!) The one thing that always worked to get him started eating solids again was a Mc Donald french fry. I loved watching those crazy photos of a smiling guy--a former Ukrainian orphan--eating the classic American food--especially at a time when all other Americans Mothers are boycotting giving their children that taste. I looked forward to those "French Fry" pictures on Facebook as proof that Mr. H was well on the road towards recovery.
Mr. H, you didn't get your French Fry post. It was one more surgery, in a long litany of surgeries this Fall that I prayed often for you to pull through--because you were a big soul, a tough guy. Now you are dead. I miss you.
There will be other posts, where I talk about how courageous your Mama is, and how much she reminds me of our joint Blessed Mother. For now, I just want to say that I miss you. I miss praying for you.
Thank you for your service Mr. H. You reveal the Glory of God. It was an honor to pray for you this year. It was an honor to be your friend.
Servant of God, Dr. Jerome LeJeune, pray for us!
Update: Leila has all the great pictures on her post.
I stopped by his Mama's blog about his adoption often and before long I was hooked. Mr. H. is a charming soul. Those pictures of him joyfully struggling went straight to my heart. I was his prayer warrior and his cheerleader.
My favorite ever crazy post-op routine was feeding the kid Mc Donald's french fries. Evidently, my little hero always had major issues trying to start eating again after surgery. (Sometime my daughter Tess and I could relate too!) The one thing that always worked to get him started eating solids again was a Mc Donald french fry. I loved watching those crazy photos of a smiling guy--a former Ukrainian orphan--eating the classic American food--especially at a time when all other Americans Mothers are boycotting giving their children that taste. I looked forward to those "French Fry" pictures on Facebook as proof that Mr. H was well on the road towards recovery.
Mr. H, you didn't get your French Fry post. It was one more surgery, in a long litany of surgeries this Fall that I prayed often for you to pull through--because you were a big soul, a tough guy. Now you are dead. I miss you.
There will be other posts, where I talk about how courageous your Mama is, and how much she reminds me of our joint Blessed Mother. For now, I just want to say that I miss you. I miss praying for you.
Thank you for your service Mr. H. You reveal the Glory of God. It was an honor to pray for you this year. It was an honor to be your friend.
Servant of God, Dr. Jerome LeJeune, pray for us!
Update: Leila has all the great pictures on her post.
God's Blessings in the Home
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(my meditation today)
Psalm 127: God's Blessing in the Home
Unless the Lord builds the house,
those who build it labor in vain.
Unless the Lord guards the city,
the guard keeps watch in vain.
In is in vain that you rise up early and go late to rest,
eating the bread of anxious toil:
for he provides for his beloved during sleep.
Psalm 128: The Happy Home of the Faithful
Happy is everyone who fears the Lord,
who walk in his ways.
You shall eat the fruit of labor of your hands;
you shall be happy, and it shall go well with you.
Your wife will be like a fruitful vine within your house;
your children will be like olive shoots around your table.
Thus shall the man be blessed who fears the Lord.
The Lord bless you from Zion.
May you see the prosperity of Jerusalem
all the days of your life.
May you see your children's children.
Peace be upon Israel!
Psalm 127: God's Blessing in the Home
Unless the Lord builds the house,
those who build it labor in vain.
Unless the Lord guards the city,
the guard keeps watch in vain.
In is in vain that you rise up early and go late to rest,
eating the bread of anxious toil:
for he provides for his beloved during sleep.
Psalm 128: The Happy Home of the Faithful
Happy is everyone who fears the Lord,
who walk in his ways.
You shall eat the fruit of labor of your hands;
you shall be happy, and it shall go well with you.
Your wife will be like a fruitful vine within your house;
your children will be like olive shoots around your table.
Thus shall the man be blessed who fears the Lord.
The Lord bless you from Zion.
May you see the prosperity of Jerusalem
all the days of your life.
May you see your children's children.
Peace be upon Israel!
Pre-Advent Work
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Got some emotional trauma at Thanksgiving. "He afflicts only to heal" as Tobit says. I got my marching orders for Advent. It's time for perfectionism and vanity to go--I've got too many exciting souls to love to remain constantly hung up on the same old battle wounds.
Watched "Lincoln." Wow.
Watched only the preview of "The Impossible" a true story about a family of five who survived the 2004 Asian Tsunami. Double Wow. Can not wait for that film to appear.
Last night we hosted a new family at our parish who asked us to become their son's Godparents in two weeks. Joanne, this was a direct outreach of my hospitality work. (I greeted them with a smile for a few weeks and the Mom asked me after a few light conversations). Last night we had them over and fed them meatloaf. In the middle of dinner, we discovered that this toddler is a Children's Hospital NICU Kid the same year as our Teresa!
Can you imagine that coincidence? When Tess was in the hospital, I was praying and praying for all the kids who were unbaptized, to get baptized. Two years later, we are going to become Godparents to a Dr. Bear NICU kid. His Mom is in RCIA too, and I get to be her sponsor!
Please pray for my little godson and his Mom, Lindsey. My godson was a 28 week preemie, who almost died many, many times during his first week of life in 2010. He's totally healthy now. Yet his Mom went through all the NICU drama without any sacraments and understandably has a lot of remaining trauma. Time to get her wounds healed by the Divine Physician.
Blessed Mother, pray for us!
Watched "Lincoln." Wow.
Watched only the preview of "The Impossible" a true story about a family of five who survived the 2004 Asian Tsunami. Double Wow. Can not wait for that film to appear.
Last night we hosted a new family at our parish who asked us to become their son's Godparents in two weeks. Joanne, this was a direct outreach of my hospitality work. (I greeted them with a smile for a few weeks and the Mom asked me after a few light conversations). Last night we had them over and fed them meatloaf. In the middle of dinner, we discovered that this toddler is a Children's Hospital NICU Kid the same year as our Teresa!
Can you imagine that coincidence? When Tess was in the hospital, I was praying and praying for all the kids who were unbaptized, to get baptized. Two years later, we are going to become Godparents to a Dr. Bear NICU kid. His Mom is in RCIA too, and I get to be her sponsor!
Please pray for my little godson and his Mom, Lindsey. My godson was a 28 week preemie, who almost died many, many times during his first week of life in 2010. He's totally healthy now. Yet his Mom went through all the NICU drama without any sacraments and understandably has a lot of remaining trauma. Time to get her wounds healed by the Divine Physician.
Blessed Mother, pray for us!
Spiritual Canticle--St. John of the Cross
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Now I occupy my soul
and all my energy in his service;
I no longer tend the herd,
nor have I any other work
now that my every act is love.
and all my energy in his service;
I no longer tend the herd,
nor have I any other work
now that my every act is love.
The Anti-Harried Wives Club: Family Is Not About Blood
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I'm paraphrasing Jesus here, but he says "Who is my mother? My Brothers? My kin? My Mother, My Brother, My Sister is whoever does the will of my Father in Heaven!"
Blood does not make a family! Family is about a spiritual connection formed by doing the Will of God. Occasionally, blood and grace co-exist in a beautiful harmony. For example, think of the Martin Family (the family of the Little Flower) -- where the Mother, the Father and the youngest Child are all recognized Catholic Saints.
For most of us, that is not the spiritual reality of our families of origin or our in-laws. The world being what it is today, its going to be uncommon to have a Martin like experience at the Thanksgiving table tomorrow.
That's why, I can't take those digs at my life personally. Of course, no one in my extended family is going to think that it's a good idea for me to stay home another year, keep homeschooling, avoid overcommitment in sports, have another baby, or avoid spending too much money on Black Friday sales. My little Catholic life doesn't not make sense on a rational level.
Again, women can fight dirty. It's the verbal jabs at my parenting, my messy hair, my imperfect behaving children, and my overweight child producing body that really hurt. Seriously, sometimes I think actual fist fights around the Thanksgiving table would be better. A black eye seems an easier injury to nurse afterwards than the vague "emotional flu" that can sometimes follow me for days after a tense Holiday gathering.
I am Christ's little Sister, however. He gets hit, I'm going to get hit. When I think about how much I love him, it gets easier. I'm less "harried" at big family gatherings.
Blood does not make a family! Family is about a spiritual connection formed by doing the Will of God. Occasionally, blood and grace co-exist in a beautiful harmony. For example, think of the Martin Family (the family of the Little Flower) -- where the Mother, the Father and the youngest Child are all recognized Catholic Saints.
For most of us, that is not the spiritual reality of our families of origin or our in-laws. The world being what it is today, its going to be uncommon to have a Martin like experience at the Thanksgiving table tomorrow.
That's why, I can't take those digs at my life personally. Of course, no one in my extended family is going to think that it's a good idea for me to stay home another year, keep homeschooling, avoid overcommitment in sports, have another baby, or avoid spending too much money on Black Friday sales. My little Catholic life doesn't not make sense on a rational level.
Again, women can fight dirty. It's the verbal jabs at my parenting, my messy hair, my imperfect behaving children, and my overweight child producing body that really hurt. Seriously, sometimes I think actual fist fights around the Thanksgiving table would be better. A black eye seems an easier injury to nurse afterwards than the vague "emotional flu" that can sometimes follow me for days after a tense Holiday gathering.
I am Christ's little Sister, however. He gets hit, I'm going to get hit. When I think about how much I love him, it gets easier. I'm less "harried" at big family gatherings.