Amazing Catechists

Teaching and learning the faith together

Learning to Live with Mystery

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The Christian worldview is chock full of mystery.  How Jesus is both true God and true Man; how God is Three Persons but One Substance; how Jesus comes to us–body, blood, soul, and divinity–under the appearances of bread and wine: these are some of the great mysteries of our faith.  We are steeped in these mysteries, and we are comfortable (for the most part) that our finite minds cannot fully comprehend the greatness of God.  After all, some say, how much of a god is a God who is completely understood?

The mysteries of each other, however–those mysteries engender more discomfort.  Whenever we hear of a tragedy intentionally perpetrated, the first question is usually “Why?”  Why would someone do that?  We seek to understand, because somehow understanding brings with it some measure of comfort.

But what if we can’t understand?  And what if the mystery is closer to our own hearts: someone close to us who has hurt us unimaginably?  When we try to sort out “why?” or “how could he?”–well, that mystery is almost unbearable.

I had always held closely a hope that when my father died, the mystery of his activities and his intentions would be solved.  He passed away recently, and along with the grief of losing a parent and the shock of its suddenness, comes the grief that the mystery–instead of being revealed–has instead become more clouded and more strange.

What do we do when we must live with the mysteries of a human soul that we cannot penetrate?  Clearly, I will not know more about my father’s thoughts, motivations, or activities in this life.  The pieces simply don’t fit together no matter how many times I have turned them over in my mind.

When a painful mystery of life so presses upon our minds and hearts that it feels like murky waters poised to engulf us, it seems to me that we have two options.  We can struggle against it, flailing our limbs in an attempt to stay upright.  We can try to analyze the mystery and expend untold energy and time trying to unravel events, sort out truth, and understand the motivations of another’s heart.

Sometimes, though, we simply can’t fathom the answer.  In that event, not all is lost, for we can learn to float.  We can submit to our human nature.  The fact is, we were not made to know all–certainly not the workings that lie at the bottom of another’s soul.  We can adopt a posture of humility and lie peacefully atop the surface of the water.  One way saps strength; the other preserves it.  One keeps our eyes fixed on the sphere below; the other trains our eyes toward heaven.

Fortunately, truth isn’t only a set of facts but is a Person.  I can choose to rest in Truth, who is Jesus Christ.  Here I accept the finite nature of my human mind and yield to the God who is infinite but who loves me so completely that he came to me in history and comes to me in the Mass.  I don’t understand the mystery of my father, but He does.  Furthermore, if it were to my soul’s good that I unravel the mystery surrounding my dad, He would show it to me.  He hasn’t yet.  He might one day, but today and all days, I can rest in utter assurance that not knowing must be for my best.

When you encounter a mystery in life that cannot be solved–learn to float. You might catch a glimpse of heaven.

Text copyright 2018 Amanda Woodiel.  Photo by Pexels (2016) via Pixabay, CCO Public Domain.

Teach Your Kids to Pray in 5 Simple Steps

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My husband and I are not unusual in the sense that we have three daughters. What is unusual about our family, however, is that two of our three girls have special needs. “Special needs,” of course, runs a wide gamut. In our case, it covers both minor developmental issues that can be corrected through occupational therapy (for our oldest, Felicity) and complex care that includes medical, psychological, and educational professionals (for Sarah, our middle child).

When we were teaching the older girls how to pray, they weren’t sure what that entailed. I wanted to use the acronym ACTS to explain that prayer can be adoration, contrition, thanksgiving, and supplication (or petition). But they didn’t really understand the academic explanation. Here’s what I did instead. (Thank you, Holy Spirit!)

Use a simple formula for young kids or children who have cognitive impairment to help prayer become a natural, fluid conversation with God that covers all of the four hallmarks of prayer:

  1. Dear Jesus, my day was…
  2. Thank you for…
  3. I’m sorry for…
  4. Please help me to…
  5. I love you, Jesus. Amen.

Have your child begin in front of an image of Jesus or statue. In our home, it’s a framed image of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. The girls get some holy water, make the Sign of the Cross (sometimes with help), and begin with item #1. Telling Jesus about their day helps them make the connection that Jesus is real and cares about the details of our lives – also that our daily lives change, and it’s good to bring the hurts, frustrations, and joys to prayer.

Item #2 is a prayer of thanksgiving. I try to jog my girls’ memory by saying, “What is something good that happened today you’d like to thank Jesus for?” Sometimes the variations of this might be, “What’s something special about today?” or “Is there a person in your life you want to thank Jesus for?” Gratitude, I believe, fosters a much deeper sense of who we are as people of faith because of acknowledging God’s provision.

When we segue into item #3, we are entering into contrition. This is a very rudimentary form of an evening examen, but the point is to put a habit into place that can be expounded upon later, as your child matures. I might prompt the girls with something like, “What’s something you did today that you wish you hadn’t?” or “Are you sorry for anything you might have said or done today?” It’s incredible the things they remember and bring to the Lord!

#4 is really a continuation of the third item, yet it acts alone as the hallmark of petition, or supplication. I tell the girls that sometimes when we see our sins, we can ask Jesus for the grace of a specific virtue we might need. For example, if Felicity says she is sorry for mouthing off to Mom today, she might ask Jesus to help her use self-control and grow in respect. These, of course, are conversations we have as they go along with their prayer.

Finally, let’s end with praising God! When we tell Him we love Him (which we can never do enough), we end our short conversation by handing Him our hearts.

This has become such a treasured part of our nightly routine, and it has been a very useful way to incorporate spontaneous dialogue between our girls and God.

Text (c) Jeannie Ewing 2018, all rights reserved. Photo by Enis Yavuz on Unsplash

My Hand In Yours, Our Hands In His – Marriage Workbook!

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Kimberly Cook

I had the joy of talking with Kimberly Cook–Catholic blogger, author, mom, and mental health professional–about her new marriage workbook. I’m so excited to share this on the one Valentine’s Day that begins on Ash Wednesday! Isn’t love about dying to self and imitating Christ?

Lisa: Tell me about the marriage workbook. How did it come to be and what was the inspiration behind it?

Kimberly: I worked in church ministries for many years before getting married and have always heard a lot of criticism about how the Church is lacking in good continuing formation for married couples. I found this to be a common problem, with parishes lacking resources that had to be searched for by the diligent faithful in order to obtain them. Another challenge for faith-based marriage resources is getting couples to commit to participating. Many spouses are not willing to be part of a marriage retreat or parish group. For these reasons, I decided to develop a mini-retreat from home!

Lisa: What an awesome idea. I had a chance to read through much of the program, and I was very impressed. Explain how the Marriage Workbook is laid out and what the format is that couples follow?

Kimberly: Thanks! The couples enter into a simple and guided course, from the comfort of their own homes, and at their own pace. Each week highlights one of the seven virtues, specifically as it applies to the vocation of marriage. Each chapter explains the virtue in practical terms and then offers study nights, with an accompanying scripture verse, discussion nights, and reflection nights. The expected amount of time each week is three nights of 20-30 minutes each.

Lisa: That sounds so do-able. I love it. Who is this Workbook meant for and how can benefit from using it?

Kimberly: The Workbook is meant for the average Catholic in the pew, but can be delved into much more deeply for those who have a more advanced understanding of the faith. The Workbook is specifically designed for couples who are at least a few years into marriage, and the priest who is overseeing the development and review of the Workbook says that he would like to see couples do this Workbook every 5 years of their marriage.

Lisa: That sounds so wise. I think we need to check back in with each other in different phases of our lives. What are your goals for the program?

Kimberly: Our hope is that, in offering married couples a material with a solid formation, rooted in the virtues, they will be more inclined to work through and grow in their marriage covenant with one another – particularly as it is able to be encountered privately in the home.

Lisa: Wonderful! Okay readers, just click any of the images in this post to be taken to Kimberly’s blog page, where you can order the workbook for yourself and your Valentine! Thank you, so much, Kimberly!

Our Family Read Alouds from 2017: an Annotated List

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We make time most school days to read loud.  A friend recommended the blog Read Aloud Revival (completely worth your time), and after listening to even one podcast, I was hooked on the idea of reading aloud as a way to create bonds within families, to increase literacy among children, and to teach moral values in an organic manner.

Because we read aloud, we have stockpiled literary characters we all know and love.  Our literary adventures have given birth to inside jokes and one-liners.  Even the five-year-old references lessons from books we read long ago that are stored in the recesses of my mind but that are still very much alive in his.

When we read aloud together, it is almost as though we have gone on an adventure together as a family.  It’s time spent together in about the most convenient, comfortable, economical and pleasurable way I can imagine!

Here is the list of what we read aloud in 2017.  Given the fact that we rarely read aloud on weekends (for no good reason; we are just out of our routine) and allowing for sick days, laziness in summer, and days we simply didn’t fit it in, I would estimate that we operated at 35% of our full read-aloud potential.  That being said, look at how much we plowed through!

One of the best pieces of advice I have ever received was along the lines of “If you want to be a mom who takes her kids outside, put down whatever you are doing and take your kids outside.  You are now a mom who takes her kids outside.”  The same is true of exercise, crafts, or read alouds.  If reading aloud is something you want to start doing, go pick up a children’s book off of the floor–picture book or otherwise–and start reading aloud.  Trust me, if you read it out loud, they will come.  Even when it’s a picture book, the 8- and 9-year olds gather around.  There is something magically enticing about hearing a story read aloud.

Chapter Books

Caddie Woodlawn by Carol Ryrie Brink

Caddie is a feisty Civil-war-era girl who lives in the wilds of Wisconsin with her family.  We had tried Little House on the Prairie a year ago as a read aloud, and no one got into it (an experiment I hope to retry soon).  This book is heavy on action with endearing (and enduring!) characters.  A great, great read.  My kids aged 9 to 4 (at the time) would name it the best book of the year!

Caddie Woodlawn’s Family by Carol Ryrie Brink and Marguerite Davis

As soon as Caddie Woodlawn was finished, my kids begged for another one.  Looking around, I discovered this sequel.  It isn’t quite as good as the first, but it was still a good read and filled our hearts that were begging for more time with Caddie Woodlawn and her family.

A Bear Called Paddington by Michael Bond

These are adorable stories about the talking bear from “Darkest Peru.”  My children found the first Paddington movie to be too frightening.  In these stories, unlike the movie, there is no villain–just a lot of mischief and unintended consequences.  This book is a lot of fun.

Sarah, Plain and Tall by Patricia MacLachlan

This is a lovely, spare book about life on the prairie, the loss of a mother, and a new family in the making.  Heart-wrenching without being sentimental, the storyline of this book will stay with you–and it comes out all right in the end, too.

The Mercy Watson series by Kate DiCamillo

At first the illustrations to this series and the premise of a doted-upon pig living in a house were jarring to me.  Once I began to appreciate the retro style, however, I find both the illustrations and the books to be hilarious.  My 3, 5, and 7 year olds can’t get enough of them!

How to Eat Fried Worms by Thomas Rockwell

I remember reading this book as a child and really enjoying it.  This book, like so many books I read in my childhood that had been penned in the ’70s, failed to live up to memory.  Perhaps some parts of it went over my head back then.  It’s a decent read, but nothing that I would particularly recommend.  I had to edit some parts of it as I was reading aloud.

The Hundred Dresses by Eleanor Estes

This book is about school cliques and bullying.  Told from the perspective of one of the less mean-spirited girls in the clique rather than the girl who was ostracized, it touches on the pain of bullying without being overwhelming for a sensitive child.  It has worthy reflections on “what I should have done” and the hidden person beyond appearances.  A deep book, really, without being pedantic.

The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster

We read this book as part of my son’s book club.  It is a fantastic book–but not one that is particularly well-suited to reading aloud to young children.  Much of the book is wordplay so that the spelling needs to be seen–or at least read aloud to someone who will get the joke.  However, put it on your booklist for older children because it is not only a great adventure story, but it is also a delightful, whimsical, and thought-provoking book that not only forces you to think about how we use language but also about how we live our lives.  A fellow mom and I both agreed that it changed our perspectives!  4th grade and up.

Five Children and It by E. Nesbit

This book was remarkable in its day as the first that featured magical realism–that is, magic that happens in every day life as opposed to magic that is embedded in another world unlike our own.  Four children (the fifth is a baby) come across a wish-giving sand fairy and find that asking for wishes that work out as anticipated is a difficult thing indeed.  A classic book for a reason and beloved by our family.

The Amelia Bedelia series by Peggy Parish

Does it get any better than the literal Amelia Bedelia?  This is one series from my childhood that absolutely lives up to its memory.  All of the children from 3 to 9 love these books, and we have a blast following one another’s instructions in Amelia-Bedelia style (such as “Time to hit the road, kids!”  “All right, mom, I’ll get the stick”).  Do not get the newer books that feature Amelia Bedelia as a child; stick with the original Peggy Parish books.

The Little Bear series by Else Holmelund Minarik

What lovely books for the young child or the emerging reader!  Even I can’t get enough of Little Bear.  Simple stories told well.

The Cricket in Times Square by George Selden

This is a perfectly charming book about the friendship of three animals, the value of place, and music.  You won’t regret reading it, and you might even shed a tear at the end like I did.

Stuart Little by E.B. White

We love E.B. White–but we didn’t love this book.  Despite a couple of amusing chapters, the book’s ambiguous ending, the main character’s utter disregard for his parents, and its tired ’70s trope of “finding yourself” wore thin even with the children.  Stuart Little was not particularly likeable, and the book seemed to have no point.  A flop with us.

The Trumpet of the Swan by E.B. White

Here’s an E.B. White book that we DID enjoy.  While there is a small amount of the old “irrelevant parent” trope, the themes of overcoming obstacles, the value of all life, and the eloquent descriptions of nature trump it.  The talkative and vain Old Cob, while rather annoying at first, ended up being our favorite character, and we now love to talk in Old Cob style.  We found the resolution at the end to be less than satisfactory, but it afforded good discussion.

From the Mixed up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler by E. L. Konigsburg

This is another title I dredged up from my childhood library.  The premise is so engaging–run-away children make their home in the New York Metropolitan Museum of Art–but their disregard for their parents is dismaying.  It read better when I envisioned myself in the place of the child than it does now when I picture myself as the adult.  Even so, it gave good fodder for discussion and has a little mystery thrown in.

The Bravest Dog Ever: the True Story of Balto by Natalie Standiford

The true story of a dog who led his sled team through a blizzard to get medicine to sick children in a remote part of Alaska.  It is suspenseful without being scary.  Good for emerging readers to read alone, but we all enjoyed the story read aloud as well.

The Courage of Sarah Noble by Alice Dalgliesh

This book, says the epilogue, is based on the true story of a young girl who stayed with Native Americans while her father left to get the rest of the family.  It is a memorable book and showcases the deep wells of courage found in children while at the same time not villianizing the adults.  Highly recommended.  “Keep up your courage” is now a tag-line at our house.

Because of Winn Dixie by Kate DiCamillo

This book was a step into more mature material for my children.  The mother in the book has willingly abandoned her husband and her daughter.  Until this book, my children had never fathomed that such a thing could occur.  The writing, as is always the case with DiCamillo, is so spectacular, though, and she handles the subject so sensitively that I would highly recommend this book for all but the most sensitive of children (and my children are quite sensitive!).  Great characters and a satisfying reconciliation between the hurting daughter and father.  Ages 6+.

The Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle series by Betty Macdonald

The original Mrs. Piggle Wiggle books can’t be beat.  Her creative ways to deal with the typical misbehaviors of children are not only wise but rollicking.  While the first books generally utilize natural consequences (though the reader must suspend disbelief), later books often use “magic powder” to solve the situation.  While my children still love those, I personally prefer the earliest books of the series and never tire of reading them!  Children 3 and up love them.

All of a Kind Family by Sydney Taylor

This is a simple book about a large Jewish family and their everyday life.  It is so innocent that there is even a chapter on mother finding a way to teach her daughters to dust the house better via hiding buttons around the room–and my kids ate it up.  It has a somewhat unbelievable, though satisfying conclusion.  My children (3 to 9 years old) would rank this as one of the best of the year.

Half Magic by Edward Eager

The author wrote this book in the manner of E. Nesbit’s Five Children and It and even references that book in the text!  Four children find a magic coin and discover that their wishes come true only by half as much.  It’s fun, has a great ending, and relatable characters.

Frindle by Andrew Clements

What a hilarious book about the power of words!  This book features an intelligent and somewhat mischievous protagonist who renames a pen a “frindle.”  The character, however, is not malicious and is respectful both of his parents and toward school authorities–a welcome reprieve from the usual theme of “adults are stupid.”  It was thoroughly entertaining and had the kids (5 and up) begging for more.

 

Picture books

We read aloud many, many more picture books than are listed here.  The ones below are especially worth highlighting, though!  They brought us joy (or brought us to tears) and are all now beloved friends.

Boxes for Katje by Candace Fleming

Get your Kleenex ready before you sit down!  This is a picture book that is memorable.  It can be understood by children at least 5 and older, but the emotional impact will hit the older children (7 and up).  It is the story of two little girls, one of whom is in post-war Europe, and their connection across the sea.

It Could Always be Worse: A Yiddish folk tale by Margot Zemach

This is one of those books that we quote all of the time: “It could always be worse!” my kids will chortle no matter our circumstance.  It’s an entertaining book about being grateful for how good you really have it.

The Seven Silly Eaters by Mary Ann Hoberman

This book, about seven children with strong culinary preferences and a mother who caters to them, gently shows children the absurdity of both the children and the mom.  I love that the family has more than 2.5 kids, and in the end, a solution is found that is reasonable.  It’s just a lot of fun and has great rhymes!

The Mary Celeste: an Unsolved Mystery from History by Jane Yolen

This is a picture book for older children, about 7 and up.  It is the true story of a missing ship.  My children enjoyed reading the facts and coming up with their own theories as to what happened.  For one of my children in particular, the fact that we don’t “know” for sure what happened was a little unsettling, but I think it is a good introduction to being comfortable with mystery.

Good Dog, Carl by Alexandra Day

This book is nearly wordless, but it makes a big impact.  We continue to fabricate situations that star the inimitable Carl the Dog.  The illustrations are gorgeous to boot.

Perfect Christmas: a Carol of Calm in the Midst of a Mess by Gary Bower

Each year I think about which new Christmas book I would like to add to our collection.  After checking out about 20 from our local library, this one is the winner.  It is a universal story about the preparations for Christmas going wrong–and remembering that even so, it is a perfect Christmas.  Maybe it’s because I read it when I was knee-deep in Christmas preparations, but it brought me to tears.  It also has beautiful, painterly illustrations!

Corduroy by Don Freeman

Corduroy is beloved by all of my children, but was a particular favorite of my 3 year old daughter this year.  “Cordur-bear,” as she calls him, is now a sleepmate with her in the form of a stuffed animal.  I remember loving this book as a child, and I’m pleased my daughter does too!

For Grown-ups

Ten Ways to Destroy the Imagination of Your Child by Anthony Esolen

This book was a life-changer for me.  I recommended it to a friend, and she concurs: this is a book we will want to read year after year.  It is written in satire, as if we really want to destroy the imagination of our children, and it is a scathing cultural commentary on everything from our educational system to our predilection toward cutting down heroes by focusing on their faults.  It’s convicting, enlightening, and inspiring–and it will change the way you parent!

(This post first appeared at www.inaplaceofgrace.com.  Text (c) by Amanda Woodiel [2018].  Photo by Mystic Art Design [2015] via Pixabay, CCO Public Domain.)

Forgiveness Beyond the Grave

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My father died last week.  It was unexpected.  He had had health issues the last couple of years and had never seemed particularly robust, but he was never near death, either.

My mom passed away eight years prior.  Here I am, in my 30s (barely!) with five small children and no parents.  It’s not a common status among my circle of friends, but it could be far worse.

I mention this simply to show that I have a frame of reference when I talk about grieving deceased parents.  This isn’t my first rodeo.  What is different this time, however, is that my father was, well, a different man than what he seemed to be.  Over the last few years we had uncovered surprising details about his life–details that I will spare you, dear reader.

So the grief I feel is an alloyed grief.  There is sadness that the opportunity has passed for our relationship to transform coupled with confusion over details that keep popping up (such as the bewildering claim he apparently made that he had been sent on a secret mission for the Department of Defense) commingled with utter dismay that his last note to us–intentionally placed in a spot where we would find it–was as efficient as a corporate memo and as warm as a ransom note.

The question I am left with–aside from the question of what is true regarding his life–is the question of forgiveness.  How do you forgive someone who lies in his grave and whose lies extend beyond the grave?  (The last sentence of his last note to us was, in fact, untrue.)  How do you forgive someone who betrayed his family but who genuinely believed he could fool everyone–and who maybe, in the end, fooled himself?

As I have pondered these questions, a specific path to forgiveness and healing keeps coming to mind.  Think back to Cana, the site of Jesus’ first public miracle.  The hosts had run out of wine, and Mary, with the compassion of a mother’s heart, knew the embarrassment they would face.  Her son is at the same wedding feast, so she hurries to him and tells him the problem.  At first, Jesus seems to resist her urging.  But she–great Jewish mama that she is–brushes aside his response and turns to the servants. “Do whatever he tells you,” she says with complete confidence in him.  Jesus is moved by his mother’s urging and by her faith.  Jesus acts, in this instance, because of his mother’s intercession.

This intercessor was given to us from the cross when Jesus gave her to John.  John stands there in history as the faithful disciple but also stands in for us when Jesus gives Mary to his care: “behold your mother.”  She is our mother as well, our dear compassionate mother, who is also, in evangelical parlance, a “prayer warrior.”  Mary, just as she was at Cana, is a compassionate intercessor for those of us who face complicated situations.

Mary is known by many names.  One such name comes from a meditation by St Irenaeus, bishop of Lyons in the last quarter of the second century and a Church Father.  Drawing out a comparison between Eve and Mary, he noted:

“And thus also it was that the knot of Eve’s disobedience was loosed by the obedience of Mary” (Against Heresies, Book III, Chapter 22).

Man’s fall from grace due to original sin–what knot could be more complicated than that?  Original sin, endured since our first parents, was loosed by the obedience of Mary to the will of God when she gave her fiat to become the mother of the Holy God.  And so she is known as “Mary, Undoer of Knots.”  Mary, undoer of the knot of original sin.  Mary, undoer of whatever knot is in your life and the big knot that is in mine.

I once had a lovely little card that had printed on it “The best way out is always through.”  The best way out of the pain is to walk through it.  And so I have been given the answer to my question of how do I forgive: pray a daily Rosary alongside Mary, Undoer of Knots, for my father’s departed soul and for my wounded one.

What does this prayer do?  Two things.  When we pray in good faith for someone who has hurt us we cannot help but love that person more.  It is hard for us to love the person whom we do not know.  I have only done this prayer for the last week, and already I am looking at my father through more compassionate eyes than ever before; somehow, it is giving me more knowledge of him.

Secondly, praying the Rosary has a way of showing us who we are.  Contemplating the mysteries of the God-Man being scourged or crowned with thorns gives me pause to think about the ways in which I have unleashed my own contempt for my Savior.  The prayer becomes, then, less about offender (dad) and victim (me) and instead becomes two sinners contemplating God’s passion and his love and mercy.

And then, of course, the prayer is the outpouring of hope that God will and does redeem all things.  Everything else in my life–my mother’s terminal brain disease, for example–has shown itself to be a gift.  Perhaps the gift is a severe mercy, but there is always mercy.  There is always the great Divine Act of turning evil on its head to bless–witness the crucifixion itself.

Praying a daily Rosary for those who have wounded us alongside our great mother and intercessor is ultimately an act of hope, an act of humility, and an act of love.  By focusing daily and for a sustained time on the life of Jesus in the company of Mary, Undoer of Knots, I have confidence that I will find healing and peace.

(This post first appeared at www.inaplaceofgrace.com.  Text by Amanda Woodiel [2018].  All rights reserved.  Photo by Petra [2015] via Pixabay, CCO Public Domain.)

Failure vs Success: Lessons from the Cross

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Do you know about St Bridget of Sweden?  If you don’t and you are a mom, you want to get to know her.  Here is an excerpt of her biography from catholic.com:

“In fact, nothing [St Bridget of Sweden] set out to do was ever realised.  She never had a pope return to Rome permanently, she never managed to make peace between France and England, she never saw any nun in the habit that Christ had shown her, and she never returned to Sweden but died, [a] worn out old lady far from home in July 1373” (read the full biography here).

Don’t you love her already?  I do.  How much of motherhood feels like failing at everything–only to die a worn out old lady!  The dishes are piled up (again), the house is a mess (again), I yelled at the kids (again), I didn’t pay a bill on time (again), I forgot even to ask my husband about his day (again)…the list goes on.  I’m not the only one, I know, who occasionally feels this way: the phrase “mom fail” has become commonplace in our culture.  You know, how you sum up the story to your friends about the time when you earnestly praised your oldest for his generosity of spirit, sunny attitude, and helpful nature–only to end by calling him the full name of the wrong child.  Mom fail.

Today I was sitting in the church mulling over the “both and”-ness of Catholic theology.  (This is a topic for another post, but you will get the drift in a minute.)

I am nothing (who am I that the Lord knows my name) and yet I am Everything (to the one who loves me so completely that He died for me).

I am nobody (one of billions) and yet I am Somebody (an adopted daughter of the God who created all things).

I am insufficient (brimming with faults and inadequacies) and yet I am Enough (willingness to cooperate with His grace being the only requirement).

So much of what I have tried has looked like failure: various groups I have started, certain friendships, even the little blog off in the corner of the internet.  Motherhood can feel like a failure at times; motherhood, which for me has had a way of exposing the depths of my temperamental deficiencies.  I feel often–not always, because there are those occasional Supermom days–like a failure.  Most days I am so quick to become angry, so preoccupied with my own thoughts as to brush aside an eager child’s slo-mo replay of a football move, so lazy as to ignore distasteful household chores, and yet so busy as to forget to read a book to my little kids.

There I sat in the church talking with God about this topic, and when I raised my eyes, I saw Him on the cross–a cross which, it struck me suddenly, sure looks a lot like failure.  What about the cross looks successful?  Without the eyes of faith, nothing.  There were those three days before the resurrection when the cross, far from looking like part of a divine plan for success, looked like the very depiction of defeat.

Motherhood can feel like living in those three days between the crucifixion and the resurrection.  In other words, I have the hope of the resurrection.  I have the hope that these things I do daily–cleaning, feeding, loving, hugging, teaching, listening, holding, tending, training–will end in victory.  But for now I live in the moment when they often look like failure; it’s precisely this interim wherein resides Hope.

I hope in the Lord, not in myself.  If I were to hope in myself, my family would be on the Titanic.  Instead, I hope in His mercy and in His grace, and I entrust everything–even what presently looks like failure–to the One who can and does redeem all things and who transforms what looks like failure into an eternal victory.

So I love St Bridget of Sweden because she reminds me that the world’s vision of success–implementing something productive, known, used, or profitable–is not God’s definition of success.  Someone who failed by every worldly metric is, in fact, a saint.  So what is success in God’s economy?  We learn from Our Lord that obedience to God’s will is the very definition of success–even if the results look to all the world like failure.  We have a saint to remind us of that, and should we forget her, we need only look at the cross.

(This post first appeared at www.inaplaceofgrace.com.  Photo by Tunde (2017) via Pixabay, CCO Public Domain.  Text by Amanda Woodiel (2017).  All rights reserved.)

Playing the Ordered Toward Game

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God bless the woman from our parish who comes to my house weekly to help out with the children.  Not only does she give me a half day out of the house, but she, who also happens to be incredibly well-read and steeped in the Catholic faith, enriches my home with a wisdom culled from years of mothering and reading Catholic philosophy.

So when my six year old son asked her if he could stack a doll stroller on top of a mini folding chair on top of a dining room chair and so on to see if he could eventually get his Tower of Babel to touch the ceiling, she was armed with a much better answer than I would have given when he asked, “Why not?”

“Because,” said the sage.  “That is not what those things are ordered toward.”

When I came home, she told me the anecdote, laughing that she had given my budding six-year-old philosopher something to chew on.

But she gave me something to chew on as well.  While I outwardly nodded and smiled, my inward self was as happy as a child treated to a new flavor of candy.  I quickly saw how brilliant this tack is, calculating how very often I can use this line of reasoning to forestall disaster and reasonably answer questions.

Why can’t I swing this metal pole around like a baseball bat?  Because that’s not what it is ordered toward.

Why can’t I climb the door frame like an American ninja warrior?  Because, my dear, that’s not what the door frame is ordered toward.

Why can’t I step on the baby’s sippy cup?  Because. That. Is. Not. What. It. Is. Ordered. Toward.

****

I’ve been reading the book The Benedict Option, in which the author traces the historical shift in the metaphysical understanding of matter from something that possesses inherent meaning and structure to something that has no meaning at all until a person assigns meaning to it.  We see this shift dramatically demonstrated in our current culture’s (dis)regard of the sex of a human body.

Before recent times, a person’s body informed the person’s identity.  The body itself had inherent meaning and structure. My body has female parts; therefore, I am a woman.  Compare this with the present-day “understanding” of the body as something that has no inherent meaning whatsoever.  The fact that I have female sexual organs, runs this way of thinking, in no way determines my sex.  Instead, I assign meaning to my body based upon whatever I want for that day.

How extraordinarily confusing is this way of thinking!  To live in a world in which everything has no inherent structure, no inherent meaning, no inherent order is to be lost at sea in a cosmological ocean–and lost at sea alone.  For if nothing has inherent meaning, then what common ground is there for two people to stand on?

So as a way to bulwark against the prevailing cultural view, we play the Ordered Toward game at my house.  It is a simple game, born of that day when my wise friend introduced the concept to us.

Everyone from the 8 year old to the 2 year old loves this game.  We simply name things around us and talk about what they are ordered toward.  Sometimes I name the object (what is a car ordered toward? To get us from one place to another), sometimes I play the game silly (is spaghetti ordered toward decorating your head? Noooo!), and sometimes I name the purpose and the children name the object (This is ordered toward giving us shade and oxygen.  A tree!).

It’s a fun game to play in the car or in a waiting room to pass the time.  The children giggle because children instinctively know that objects do have inherent meaning.

Start this little exercise at your house and you will be amazed by how useful it is. When someone throws a toy: “that toy was made to spin; it’s not ordered toward throwing.”  When someone sticks his feet in another child’s face: “is that what your feet are ordered toward?”  When a child tries to put his sister’s underwear on his head: “that’s not what it is ordered toward!” [Are you getting a picture of life at our house?]

At the same time, I’m laying groundwork for Theology of the Body before I get anywhere close to teaching about the mechanics of sex.  The point is that our bodies are ordered toward something.  We already talk about what our stomachs are ordered toward (to digest food) and what our eyes are ordered toward (to see), so when we get to the point of talking about our reproductive organs, for example, we will have a solid foundation upon which to lay the Catholic theology of the body, which is to say, that the reproductive organs are ordered toward creating and nourishing life.

Of course, as the children grow older and enter into the rhetoric stage of life, I’m sure we will have conversations about secondary uses and innovative uses of existing things, at which point we will discuss ethics and morality.  The first place to start when one encounters something, though, is in discovering what its primary purpose is–and this is a fun way to begin.

(This post was first published at www.inaplaceofgrace.com by Amanda Woodiel. All rights reserved.  Photo by Chris Crowder (2016) via Pixabay, CCO Public Domain.)