At Least Once A Day

There is much to be thankful for this Advent season. There is also much to laugh at; too much if you ask me. Look around. Does the obvious humor in the room stand out to you? No, not yet? Are there any kids in the room?

Children rely so much on their parents/guardians to bring meaning to the simplest situations. However, it works both ways. Many times it takes the simple understanding of a child to truly see humor in an adult world.

My family and I were just about to sit down to a great home cooked meal prepared by my wonderfully beautiful and talented wife when the doorbell rang...

...Well, at least that's how I remember the evening. What it actually may have been like was this.

I get home late from work, I'm stressed and I'm hungry. My wife is carrying similar work stress plus the added bonus of dealing with a smart mouthed four year old and a crying three month old who's most likely as hungry as I am. How my wife managed to still have dinner in the oven is a motherly-mystery that may remain unsolved. It didn't matter what it was that was baking; it was going to be hot and it was going to be ready soon. After wrestling with my four year old to get him to pick up his toys and wash his hands; after the baby was silenced with a belly full of milk we where ready to sit down and eat. We where seated and all was just starting to quite down when the doorbell screeched everyone to the same tension we had when I first walked through the door.

"Who could that be? I wasn't expecting anyone. It's late, I'm just about to eat. Why does this always happen when I've had a crazy day." was my response to having to get up and answer the door.

"Daddy, can I come to?" was said by my 4 yr old about a thousand times within a few seconds.

My wife has always been a stickler for having the whole family eat together at the same time so she insisted we all go and answer the door together.

Wouldn't you know it, it was only a package delivery left at the front door, the UPS driver already gone. I picked it up and handed it to my wife. We all walked back to the table and finally began to eat.

Not long after sitting down at the dinner table did I look up and notice a puzzled look on my four year old son's face.

"Boy, is there something wrong?"

My 4 yr old look at at me and my wife and said, "Mommy, Daddy,...how did the package ring the door bell?"

We haven't stopped laughing since.

And that is how our hair-yanking evening became a great memory of a fabulous meal with my wife and kids.

Find something to laugh at right now.

Blessings,
Michael

Any Day Now

In just a few days there will be a new life in our home. Well,...that's not completely accurate. This new life is already there, in our home. However, my wife is the only one who is able to hold him at this time.

He isn't due for another three weeks, but all signs are pointing to our baby boy being born early. Have no fear, all of our recent prenatal appointments have said he is cleared for landing whenever he's ready. This has me scrabbling to get his room, (as well as the rest of the house) ready for his arrival. This past weekend I installed a new kitchen sink faucet (in preparing for his baths), I built his porta-crib/bassinet, and I installed an extra towel rack in my oldest boy's bathroom (which my new born probably won't use for a while, but...it's ready when he is). I even found time to build a bench, mow the lawn, and clean the fish tank. Did I mention I did all of this on Sunday? They speak of expecting mothers to begin "nesting" just before their babies are born. Clearly, something similar happens to expecting fathers as well.

I find myself once again feeling anxious and nervous at the same time. We have a four year son and yet, somehow, I feel as if I'm going to be a new parent. I worry about being able to provide for my family and still I crave a home full of children.

Prayer has been a constant in my life always, however, recently prayerful words have filled my day. I know I/we can not do this alone. It is only by God's mercy and grace that we have come so far. His presence is truly felt. However, my human nature leads me to be fearful still.

There is a constant drive within me to do more, to be more; always more.

Blessings,
AngelArch

I thought I would spend some time to explore my roots and felt the need to exercise a skill that I have left virtually unused. I am bilingual and my parents would be very disturbed if I were to forget where I came.

My hope is to instill the importance of heritage to my children. That means I have to understand this truth and have to respect that heritage.

In any case, this is good practice. My memories are filled with the voices of my family speaking Spanish. When times are tough, I hear my mother saying in my head, "Pray". When life is wonderful my father's voice rejoices with me. I pray that my children are blessed with the same kind of familiar voices.

Blessings,

Michael

Pensé que pasaría algún tiempo a explorar mis raíces y sintió la necesidad de ejercer una habilidad que ha dejado prácticamente sin uso. Soy bilingüe y mis padres serían muy molestados si yo fuera a olvidar de donde vine. Mi esperanza es inculcar la importancia de la herencia a mis hijos. Que implica la comprensión y la verdad yo respeto ese mismo patrimonio.

En todo caso, esta será una buena práctica.

Mis recuerdos están llenos con las voces de mi familia hablando español. Cuando los tiempos son duros, escucho a mi madre dicendome, "Ora". Cuando la vida es maravillosa oygo a mi padre que me animabe. Ruego que mis hijos son bendecidos con el mismo tipo de voces familiares.

Bendiciones,

Migúel

Tell me about him

I have been in contact with several families who are expecting a new baby(ies), very soon, for several months now. Some share tales of relief that "finally" they were able to conceive. Several others share stories that could only be told with the strength given only by God. They tell a more heart twisting story of unborn children lost.
Although my family and I have had a serious scare or two, we can only imagine what the loss of a child (both born and unborn) must do to everyone involved. I, and my readers, must understand that there is little that can be said by "outsiders" to bring the healing that only God can provide. Most of the time all we can do, all we must do, is listen. The part we play is to keep the child alive in memory.
I have been privilege enough to have many strong men and women of varying faiths as close contacts. Many of these beautiful people tell the same story of children lost. I now tell it to you.
In early 2001 a family consisting of a Mother, Father, and two boys (ages four and six) encountered tragedy. While leaving a grocery store the family's vehicle was involved in an accident killing the six year old boy and leaving everyone else uninjured.
Being a faithful family, even through this unimaginably horrifying event, they made funeral arrangements through their church. A pastor went out to speak to the family in order to properly write a eulogy. Being young and newly assigned to the area, the pastor knew very little about this particular family. He drove up to the house, rang the door bell and entered this now quite home.
The pastor had created and brought a list of Bible verses he would share with the family; verses, in his opinion, that would show Gods love for the entire family and would ease the pain of their loss. The pastor had prepared himself to lecture and preach his heart out; anything to bring peace to this home and get a proper eulogy written. His hope was that through his actions the family would see God.
As he was invited into the living room and offered a seat the pastor ran several of his memorized Bible verses through his head, he was ready. He sat down opened his Bible, looked up at the Father and Mother, now sitting right in front of him, and found himself unable to speak. The pain and longing for understanding was very evident in each of their eyes. The pastor realize, as if for the first time, that they had lost their child. They couldn't possible want to be lectured to. They couldn't want to hear Bible verses, how ever beautiful they may be. They wanted their child back. They wanted this all of this to be only a bad dream. The pastor remained silent and may have stayed that way had it not been for one more realization.
"Where's your youngest son?" the pastor found himself asking before he could stop himself. "He's in his room, coloring" was the answer he received. It was in that moment the pastor saw a slight change in their previously torched faces. He saw love for their youngest son. He now knew what he had to do.
"May we have him join us?" he found himself asking next.
Curious at the pastor's request the couple agreed to have their four year old son join the meeting. The boy entered the as normal four year old would, fearless in his own home.
"Mom, who's this guy?" were first words the Pastor heard from the boy. That was all he needed to hear to affirm him his plan would work.
"Son, I'm Pastor Prayerful, and I have come here to ask you some questions, if you don't mind that is." After a quizzical glance over to his parents the boy sat down on the floor and waited for the first question. The pastor began. "My boy, tell me about your brother."
"Well, he wasn't always nice. He's faster than me, so that means he can eat more of the food mom puts on the table."
This remark caught the pastor by surprise and he couldn't help but chuckle. Mom and Dad cracked a smile as well, so this led the pastor to continue. "Tell me more about your brother."
"When we went bike riding together he didn't always wait for me. I had to tell Daddy about that one. He didn't like me in his room. I always told him, if he played in my room we wouldn't have this problem."
The pastor asked, "What is about your brother that you like?".
"He was taller than me", the boy answered and continued. "He would sometimes help me reach the really big bowls on the top cupboard so we could eat cereal and watch T.V. together on cartoon mornings. He also was tall enough to scare some of the kids in our neighborhood who didn't like me coloring on their driveways and would chase me." This last remark called for some corrections to be made by Dad.
"Son, I told you about only coloring on your own driveway", Dad remarked.
"It's only chalk, Daddy"
"BOY", the father responded.
"Yes Daddy", the boy answered.
The pastor continued. "Is there anything you would like others to know about your brother?"
After a guilty chuckle the boy said, "Yes" and responded with this. "There was this one time the night-light in the bathroom was busted so I couldn't go in there by myself, so I went to my brothers room and told him I was scared of the dark. He got out of bed, grabbed his flashlight from his closet and walked me to the bathroom. He stood there flashing his light at the toilet with his eyes closed and his hand over his nose until I was done. Then he said don't tell anyone I peed with him in there; it's too disgusting." The boy ended his short story with another laugh while covering his mouth with hand.
Slightly embarrassed but mostly amused the boy's parent's smiled.
There were several more questions the pastor would ask the boy and his parent's and there would be tears along with the laughing. The pastor would find the opportunity to pray with the family as well as read a few verses from scripture. At the funeral their would be more tears, this time not only from the family but form all those close to them as well. At the end of the service several would comment on how long Pastor Prayerful must have know the family to have given such a whimsical account of one of their sons.
The Pastor would rely by only saying this.
"It's not that I have know them, but that God has known them. He has know them and called each by name even before they were born, and through Him they will know each other. The Lord will not allow us to forget the ones we love. For even though everything can change in a blink, God doesn't blink, so don't worry".
God Bless,
Michael

Just Here?

HINENI; A Jewish term meaning, "I'm here and ready to do your bidding".

PO; Jewish term meaning, "Here".

A not so old Jewish professor I once had described the world as having two mind sets. There are those who are passionate about their lives and beliefs, on fire; HINENI. Then there are those who are just...here; PO. With the beginning of each new class role was taken. Your response, in Jewish, stated your enthusiasm for that evening's session. Many of us may have been hesitant to respond to with a "HENENI" for fear of some kind of repercussion for publicly stating our willingness as Catholics to do the bidding of a Jewish instructor. By the end of the intensive Old Testament study there were few who didn't realize our calling as Christians is to do just that, to be here and ready to do His bidding. Has it not been our mission to be at the ready for The Jewish instructor?

We didn't always find ourselves on the same page as him, however, Rabbi Reverence sparked the fire of passion within all our hearts; a passion to be either hot or cold to his teachings. He, whether he was willing to admit it or not, was being Christ-like to his students with each class meeting.

"I know your works: You are neither cold nor hot. Would that you were cold or hot! So, because you are lukewarm, and neither cold nor hot, I will spew you out of my mouth. " (Revelation 3:15-16)

With each new morning how do you decide to respond? HENENI or PO?

Blessings,
Michael

Peace Be With You

This past Pentecost Sunday our priest gave a wonderful sermon that was simple but not easy. I'll explain in further detail.

We all know the story. Fr. Faithful spoke of the Apostles in the upper room waiting for the individual who was to lead them now that Jesus had gone to prepare them a place in Heaven. After all, Christ himself told them he would not leave them orphans. The Apostles expected the being who was to guide them to be another individual like Jesus. They weren't completely off track. The Holy Spirit that was breathed on them is in fact Christ as well as the Heavenly Father, just not the way they originally pictured. With a new found zeal for God and the gift of tongues they were now to be Christ to the world.

What we may not realize is that the time spent before Christ bestowed the gift of the Holy Spirit onto the Apostles, the fifty days after Easter must have been filled with prayer upon prayer. These wise men were now left without there leader. They must have been praying for Christ's coming, (much as we do today). Their prayers must have been filled with heartfelt worry. "Have mercy on us, Free us from this misfortune, Save us Lord, etc.". What was Christ's response? He granted them peace, His Peace. He did this through the Holy Spirit.

This lead me to an 'Aha' moment. As difficult as it may be in the moment; during our times of trouble and suffering, during times of temptation, rather than praying for a particular outcome, should we not be praying for peace? Peace in our lives, in the lives of all those who are suffering. Should we not be praying that God's Will be done in our lives, not only in that moment of trial but always? This is simple, but not easily done. However, regardless of its difficulty, should it not be the goal in our prayers?

Know this, I am a firm believer in practicing what I preach. It looks like I have some work to do.

Blessings,
Michael

Feel Forgiven?

I am a constant "Utilizer" of the Sacrament of Penance. In all honesty I try to go to confession at least every two weeks. On several occasions I've found myself there every week for several months straight (stories for perhaps another day). It wasn't until about five years ago that I became a usual in the confessional. Before then I would go on very rare occasions. Reason being, I never uses to get any sense of change or washed-clean feeling after confession my sins.

What's different now? Truthfully, nothing. Well, that's not all true. I've changed. My way of perceiving the Sacrament has changed. I now see confessing my sins, to a priest who has come to know my darkest secrets, as a way of life. I still feel the same way leaving the church after a good confession as I did before arriving, but now I KNOW something has changed. I have been forgiven. I walk away with the same vices, same temptations as when I walked into the church, however, now I have yet another opportunity to grow from my weaknesses. I realize that only by the Grace of God will I ever be given the gift of heaven. On many mornings I pray for a double helping of the Holy Spirit. Knowing quite well that one helping is more than enough. I still ask for two, selfish? I don't thing so. It's like your child asking you for more clean air to breath. Can he/she ever get too much?

Blessings,
Michael

The Beginning

My hopes for this blog is to have it be a place of shared spirituality. I am a Catholic man who aspires to grow in faith with each passing day. Any good that comes out of me and/or this media will truly be the work of the Holy Spirit. I realize that, alone, I can accomplish nothing. I am not saying I'm nothing, worthless, or dispensable. This is simply my attempt at practising true humility, which is to recognize that all good comes from God.

In time I will come to share more about myself, and perhaps learn more about my readers. Baby steps to begin with, however.

Blessings,
Michael