Sit still

I've tried to take some time this year to refocus--spending more time in prayer, or meditation or just sitting still.  I don't have a job outside the home, I am not an overly ambitious person but as you know, life is busy.  Lately, I have had to schedule quiet time to make it happen but it has made all the difference.  It is amazing what happens when you take the time to sit still.

I signed up as an Adorer for Perpetual Adoration. For those of you that I just lost,  the host, the body of Christ, is on the altar in the chapel.  People sign up for an hour to ensure He is never left alone.  I have to say, this is easily one of the best hours of my week.  Once there, I am not required to do anything for an hour except be there.  I pray, sometimes say a Rosary but most often I just sit.  I sit and listen.  It is perfectly quiet in there, of course, but I have learned more about myself, my faith and my place in the world by simply sitting still and listening.  Sometimes I jot down a few notes/thoughts that come to me that I didn't expect.  (A friend of mine once told me that her friend started taking a notebook with her to Adoration, started writing a book while there and is now a successful, published Christian author!)

I'm usually running to get in there!  I have it on my calendar each week, else I would never get there but I still try to fit one more thing/task/chore into my day, right before I go.  Whether you believe it is God, the universe or your subconscious that guides you, it is so hard for most of us to find the time to just sit quietly and listen.  Put it on your calendar!

Of all of the books I've read to my children over the years, one of my favorites is It's Hard to be Five, by Jamie Lee Curtis and Laura Cornell.  Of course, my youngest doesn't want to hear it, anymore as he is SIX.  The struggles are real for any age!

I stepped out of my comfort zone a week ago and attended a weekend retreat at church.  I wasn't going to go; I have been avoiding it for years.  In my quiet hours at Adoration, I kept hearing a voice telling me that I should go this year but I attributed it to my "guilt voice" as I knew I probably should go but really was not interested.  Finally, just days before, after enough separate people had asked/encouraged/suggested that I go, I relented.  It was lovely, of course, to meet new people and learn more about my faith but what I did not expect was to have quiet time, alone.  This was exactly what I needed and never experience on a normal weekend!

I try to go to Mass on the days the kids have "All School Mass."  It is nice for the kids to see that I go, too and my youngest still enjoys having me there. ;)  But I'm rushing in the mornings, to get them all off to school, give the husband a kiss on the cheek and still make sure I have matching shoes on in time to get there.  Today I was a few minutes late.  Since then however, my day has gone so smoothly.

 So many friends of mine who are also mothers say that they purposely get up very early to make sure they have quiet time for reflection before getting everyone else up and on their way.  I haven't been able to do that, yet.  I am not a morning person. I stay up far too late and know that I can send up a few prayers when I finally lay down to sleep.  But the voices and the thoughts and the schedules all assault my brain at once and then it's tough even to fall asleep.  But making time during the day--even if it is running into Mass in the morning, going to Adoration after lunch or just sitting somewhere in my parked car for a few minutes with the radio off--has made all the difference.  Now, once I get to bed, I fall asleep immediately.  I know if I would go to bed a little earlier and get up a little earlier, our mornings could start off much more smoothly.  I am working on that.

Take some time to sit still, today.  Enjoy!

Listen up

'Cause we know sometimes words have two meanings.

Sometimes, you need to make sure you are hearing the right words.

After enough of my daughter's music this afternoon, I gratefully flipped back and forth through a few XM channels, confident that I'd find music that my 4-year-old son could sing (repeat) without any concerns.  While I rarely land on the 80's station, not much else was on my standard stations and I thought Bananarama was safe.  I drove home, oblivious to the familiar lyrics while I ran through the rest of my evening schedule in my head.  My son was happy--he liked the song and bopped along.  I thought all was well until he kept singing after I'd turned the car off.  As it turns out, other words rhyme with "Venus."

As I was composing this blog post, my older son came over to tell me about a conversation at school today.  If you read this blog often, you know my kids attend Catholic school and today was a day when Father visited the classroom.  My son wanted to let me know that Father instructed them to avoid "sidekicks" and mediums (as they practice black magic).

Food for thought

I just logged on to begin a post about inspiration at this time of year and found this one--still sitting in my drafts from the week after Thanksgiving.  It appears that I have been working on the same idea for a month now.  (I'll post the new one tomorrow).  Happy Monday!

I pray; I attend church; I find the Bible fascinating though I'll admit I don't open it on a regular basis.  I have taken enough women's bible study classes to know that I would not care to attempt what this woman did.  Sure--I could try but it would be like trying to sit through algebra class again.  You know, it would be HARD.

During a recent homily, a priest suggested we treat Advent more like Lent.  (He admitted he did not expect anyone to find this Homily popular.)  Rather than enjoying the Christmas season now, he suggested we use it as a time of preparation, contemplation and repentance.  Then, on Christmas Day we would be ready to celebrate the birth of Jesus and continue to celebrate for the following eight days.  (His suggestion to the children that they request presents for eight days in a row DID seem a bit more popular!)

Finishing my book is important--to me.  The universe has bigger issues to worry about.  You have bigger concerns.  The book is important to me but not as important as family.  More interesting but not as important as getting dinner on the table tonight.

I knew completing a NaNo novel this year would be nearly impossible but absolutely impossible if I did not try.  I quickly decided to use NaNo as a way to get many more needed words into the WIP I am revising and watch the little blue bar move to the right, at the same time.  Even with that cheating mentality, I did not get enough words into the WIP let alone start a new project.

This time of year is busy enough.  Every year I say I need to let something go but end up doing everything halfway.  So I took the laptop with me on a trip to Florida for Thanksgiving with my kids.  (I had a fantasy about leaving my kids with their cousins and finding a Starbucks in my hometown.)  Instead, I let my son play games on the computer (the one computer he is never allowed to touch) and watched my youngest play in the dirt.  Aside from my son's time on the laptop, it was a mostly unplugged, unscheduled weekend with family.  It wasn't perfect but it was perfectly good.  Twenty years from now, my son won't remember if I finished my book this year or not but he might remember playing football with his cousins in the yard.  He will remember the pie.  Sweet Mercy, there were so many different delicious pies!

I have worked on the WIP.  It still isn't done.  It is not ready but it is better.  I am learning to slow down and listen more (and if a main character in the book learns that lesson along the way as well, that's just gravy).

I feel fine!

It's a beautiful day, I'm taking the dog and youngest child to the park and I'm singing. 

Enjoy today as if it were your last, just in case, but I'll plan to check back in with you tomorrow!

In which I confess my Sin

It's not a new rule.  It isn't my rule.  It is simple.  If you want to write, you are going to have to write stuff down.
(And if you're a mom, you have to write stuff down; if you're over 30, it's likely you have to write some things down; if you don't sleep enough or if you were scatterbrained to start with, you have to write stuff down.)

If you write, you know your ideas--the good ones, anyway--do not come when you ask for them.  The ideas come while you're walking, driving, showering, cooking and sleeping.  Which is why there are pieces of scrap paper on my nightstand, in the laundry room and in my pocket when I go for a walk or a run.  The laptop is always on in the kitchen, so if I think of something while I'm frying eggplant, I can type a quick note.  I have a few apps on my iPhone so if I'm driving or running, I can at least jot a few words when I have a chance to stop.  I haven't found a way to keep a notepad in the shower yet but I don't always get in there, every day, anyway! ;)

This isn't new.  Life is busy.  We are trying to get other things done so we might have time to write or, if we make the time, we are trying to call up the inspiration on cue.  So the good ideas wait until you have a quiet moment to sit and breathe.

I had a great one last night!  I remember that it was great enough that I included an extra-loud prayer (in my head, anyway) along with the others, that God help me remember today as I was just too tired to write it down.
Apparently, my faith is not as strong as it should be.  As a writer, I know that is the biggest writing sin!  If you don't write it down before you go to sleep, it will be lost by the time you wake.  I prayed for it to stick in my head--and I can remember the two characters involved and where they were--but that's all I've got.  There is a stack of paper, pens AND pencils on my nightstand but I was too tired to pick up a pen. 

You have been hearing me talk about The Great American Novel for decades but you've been wondering why I don't just finish it already.  You had your suspicions but now, I admit it.  Writers who are too tired and lazy to pick up a pen aren't going to get very far.

(If one of you was suddenly gifted with a GREAT SCENE involving characters who aren't yours, in a story you don't know, sometime around 12:30am this morning, please email me.  I know God heard my prayer so I'm thinking when I didn't write the idea down, He went ahead and gave it to someone else.)

The voices are getting louder

I mentioned characters and, perhaps, an actual person from the past speaking to me.

Yesterday, I was upstairs and heard my son calling me from the backyard. He was out there with the dog, so I came running down to see what was wrong. When I made it to the backyard, I found them running in the grass. Both were FINE. So I asked why he'd yelled.
He shrugged. "I didn't."
Oh.

Last night, I was in my bedroom when I heard my daughter call me. (I thought it was her. I am always getting in trouble for going to the wrong room when the other has actually called me.) But this time, they both frowned at me for coming into the wrong room. Neither of them called me. I was sure my youngest was asleep so I gave up.

At 4am, I nearly jumped out of bed when I heard a door slam. I looked at my husband--he'd heard it, too. We looked at each other, then heard the gate at the bottom of the stairs slam shut. We both got out of bed but after I second, I told my husband I was sure it was our older son. (He offered to sneak down and scare the snot out of him but wisely refrained.) When I did not hear any refrigerators opening or water running, I went to check. He was in bed. I checked my daughter's room, and she was in bed. Our youngest never gets out of bed in the middle of the night. Ever. (If he wakes--he cries, calls or just sits there but he does not even get out of his bed in the morning until someone comes to open his door).

But it had to be him. His door was still shut but that would explain the slammed door we'd heard. Sure enough, I went in and found his bed empty.

I went downstairs and found him standing in the dark living room. "I heard Daddy calling me so I came down here," he said, "but now I can't find him."

(I got him back upstairs and we assured him it was a dream. He wasn't completely convinced. He asked his Dad twice more why he'd called him.)

While I was putting him back in bed, I remembered the Bible story where the son woke his father three times, asking why he'd been called. The father finally realized it was God calling his son. My son was, apparently, only called once. And he is three. I don't think God has a message for a three-year-old that can't wait until morning.

Clearly then, there are only two possibilities:
I've invited spirits into the house that want to mess with us (now I know I'm not the only one hearing them) or, the dog has taken up ventriloquism.

The Shack

Settle down in your favorite chair and make yourself at home in The Shack.  

Of course, when you read the first chapter, or even just the plot summary, you'll think I've lost my mind.  The subject sounds unsettling.  It is.

I read the back cover and waited to read the book.  I was afraid it would bother me.  It did.  I was sure that I would cry.  I did.

Still, it's a book that will make you think and just possibly, look at life a little differently.

I'm not a huge fan of the writing style.  The actual story however, is powerful.

And for any of you out there who are sure that you know what God looks like--it might be time to take another look.

Teachable moment

(If you look very closely, you may be able to see the slight smudge on Joshua's forehead.  If not, just enjoy the photo of our happy baby!)

I attended Mass today and received ashes on my forehead.  Every year on Ash Wednesday, we hear the gospel reading telling us not to advertise when we fast, pray, etc. but rather to keep those activities private.  So it has seemed hypocritical to me to hear this lesson on the day that we are advertising to the world that we have been to church this Wednesday, as we walk around with black crosses or smudges on our foreheads.

Today I decided to look up some answers and after a little research online, learned that the crosses on our heads are not meant to advertise that we went to Mass because we are any holier than anyone else but rather as an evangelizing tool.  Some of the answers that I found suggest that at the very least, someone who sees the cross on my head today will realize that I went to Mass and might think, for a moment, about going to church.  Whether it brings a smile to some or makes others cringe, for a split second, some stranger will associate the mark on my face with church or with God.

Others will just wonder how I left the house without noticing that I have something on my face.  I learned this well during the last few years in Kansas.  I attended Ash Wednesday Mass and then went to the grocery store.  Each time, at least two well-meaning people tried to discreetly tell me that I had something on my face.  I should have used this as a "teachable moment" and explained that it was Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent, a good time to think about God.  Instead, I usually just nodded.

Today, I went to Target with the kids after school.  Most people we passed just smiled.  I don't know if they were embarrassed for me or if they recognized the black cross on my head.  (Perhaps walking through the store with two kids in Catholic school uniforms, also wearing ashes on their heads, gave them a hint).  I had even almost forgotten that I looked odd today until after checking out when the woman walking by us elbowed her mother in the ribs, then pointed at my head, at which point both women stopped and stared.  Rather than pretending to not see them while I shooed my children out the door, I should have used this as a moment to teach them.   

Sunday Soul-searching

I found an intriguing post over at SweetViolet's this morning. I enjoyed her comments and her challenge to take this religion quiz honestly, answering truthfully about what you believe rather than what you have been taught to believe.

I thought I understood her point and took the quiz. However, after I sat back and thought about the answers I'd given, I realized that there were still one or two responses I'd made out of fear or guilt. What if that isn't true?

So I went back and took the quiz a second time, honestly answering each question. Lightning did not strike and the results were interesting!

In college, the Jesuits taught us to always question everything. I think that's a good approach--even if my Belief.net score shows only a 58% rating for Roman Catholic!

1. Orthodox Quaker (100%)
2. Mainline to Liberal Christian Protestants (97%)
3. Liberal Quakers (90%)
4. Unitarian Universalism (85%)
5. Mahayana Buddhism (81%)
6. Theravada Buddhism (77%)
7. Hinduism (75%)
8. Reform Judaism (72%)
9. Seventh Day Adventist (69%)
10. Mainline to Conservative Christian/Protestant (68%)
11. Sikhism (67%)
12. Jainism (66%)
13. Orthodox Judaism (64%)
14. Bahá'í Faith (63%)
15. Neo-Pagan (61%)
16. Eastern Orthodox (58%)
17. Roman Catholic (58%)
18. Taoism (58%)
19. Islam (57%)
20. New Age (56%)
21. New Thought (47%)
22. Secular Humanism (46%)
23. Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (Mormons) (43%)
24. Scientology (43%)
25. Christian Science (Church of Christ, Scientist) (34%)
26. Jehovah's Witness (33%)
27. Nontheist (29%)

Take the Belief-O-Matic quiz yourself!