As you know, the last eight months have been totally crazy for the entire world, with Covid and such. There has been a lot of information (and disinformation) flying at us. It’s easy to get totally freaked out and overwhelmed….on an hourly basis.
As a Catholic, the last several years have been a rollercoaster ride. Many scandals have come to light. And when Pope Francis opens his mouth, I am not sure what will come out. When the Holy Father seems to lose his focus on the Kingship of Jesus Christ, this thing happens; the faithful become confused.
A part of me has not wanted to write about any of this, but when I moved my blog to The Parenting Dare, I decided to go all in and write about the FAMILY on a deeper level. (Even though we all need to make supper, I wanted to write about more than The Best Ever Meatloaf.)
The year was 1999. I was sitting next to a friend on a bench at the Sedgwick County Zoo; we were watching our children hang like a bunch of monkeys on the fence near the giraffe exhibit.
I turned to my friend and told her that I was expecting child number four.
Her face froze. I could see her pull inward. And then she almost got angry and said, “I knew you would do this.”
And I was like, “Whoa...wait a minute...do what?”
“Have another child.”
As a busy mom of eight, a part of me sees and hears all of the division, anger and political strive in our country and I just want to just sit back, drink some coffee and avoid, avoid, avoid. But guess what? A culture can go down the toilet in about half a second if all of us good people just opt out and silently drink our coffee.
So. Today I would like to write about some bigger topics. You might want to take a moment to get your own cup of coffee. ♥
Imagine that you are a mother of five great kids, ranging in age from 13 to 23.
You have been a consistent mother to them, loving them through the difficulties of growing up, while setting clear boundaries. You have built into them individually and collectively.
After all of the sleepless days and endless daytime activity, you can honestly say that you love each one more than you could have ever thought possible.
Several years ago, I walked into a room and saw a friend kneeling next to her son, who had just asked about the rosary. He had heard his cousins talking about it and he wanted to know what it was.
His mom quickly squashed his curiosity, saying that the rosary was “boring prayers that you say over and over.” I chuckled. And I had to admit, when I was young, that is how I used to think of the rosary.
Whenever my mom called us kids to pray the rosary, I usually stalled. I had a hard time leaving whatever I was doing to go pray.
The rosary seemed boring. Lifeless. Something to get through.
Friends, for the past four or five months we have been experiencing Life in a much different way. We've seen our schools and churches close. We've been isolated in our homes. There have been lay-offs and shut downs. We've seen police brutality, rioting and looting. There is fear and panic circulating.
It's just not.
How to get peace? We have to put God first in our lives. And we have to understand there is an enemy of God and he wants to steal, kill and destroy life.
I love it when my kids sleep until noon. You know why? Because I get time to myself.
It is glorious. The house is QUIET. No one is breathing in my space, no one is asking questions, no one has needs. I can just be.
It is absolutely beautiful and a HUGE, massive part of me says, “Lori, this is genius. Talk about a win-win situation. They stay up late while you go to sleep and they sleep while you get up in the early morning and have quiet time.”
I recently sat down and asked two college graduates this question:
What do you wish your parents would have taught you but didn’t?
Why did I ask them that question? Well, I had this brilliant idea of making a blog post, “What you wish your parents would have taught you before you graduated from high school.”
Author's Note: When this post was originally written, I believed the the BLACK LIVES MATTER movement was composed of good people with good intentions. I am about that. However, I have since learned that a group of Marxists more or less hijacked BLM for their own devious purposes. I am not about that life and I do not support The Black Lives organization.
I decided to leave this post up, simply because it showcases just how naive I was. Read. Learn. Grow.
Last week I wrote a post about George Floyd and how his needless death had greatly impacted my own life. I dug a little deeper into the background of racism in America and frankly, I was appalled and grieved by what I discovered.
Read that post now: We are at a Defining Moment.
As a white woman living snugly and safely in the heartland of America, I just didn’t know what I didn’t know.
I walked into my husband’s home office this week and I plopped on a chair.
“What’s wrong, honey?”
I was quiet for a moment, assessing how I was actually feeling. Then I just stated the truth, “I’ve been thinking about George Floyd’s death.”
My husband stopped what he was doing, turned his chair and said, “Yeah, me too.”
“I’m just so angry. And so sad. My heart hurts.”
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