Waiting, watching...

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Before the feast of Passover, Jesus knew that his hour had come
to pass from this world to the Father.
He loved his own in the world and he loved them to the end.
The devil had already induced Judas, son of Simon the Iscariot, to hand him over.
So, during supper, 
fully aware that the Father had put everything into his power 
and that he had come from God and was returning to God, 
he rose from supper and took off his outer garments.
He took a towel and tied it around his waist.
Then he poured water into a basin 
and began to wash the disciples’ feet 
and dry them with the towel around his waist.
He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, 
“Master, are you going to wash my feet?”
Jesus answered and said to him,
“What I am doing, you do not understand now,
but you will understand later.”
Peter said to him, “You will never wash my feet.”
Jesus answered him, 
“Unless I wash you, you will have no inheritance with me.”
Simon Peter said to him, 
“Master, then not only my feet, but my hands and head as well.”
Jesus said to him, 
“Whoever has bathed has no need except to have his feet washed,
for he is clean all over; 
so you are clean, but not all.”
For he knew who would betray him;
for this reason, he said, “Not all of you are clean.”

So when he had washed their feet 
and put his garments back on and reclined at table again, 
he said to them, “Do you realize what I have done for you?
You call me ‘teacher’ and ‘master,’ and rightly so, for indeed I am.
If I, therefore, the master and teacher, have washed your feet, 
you ought to wash one another’s feet.
I have given you a model to follow, 
so that as I have done for you, you should also do.”

 

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So they took Jesus, and, carrying the cross himself, 
he went out to what is called the Place of the Skull, 
in Hebrew, Golgotha.
There they crucified him, and with him two others, 
one on either side, with Jesus in the middle.
Pilate also had an inscription written and put on the cross.
It read,
“Jesus the Nazorean, the King of the Jews.”
Now many of the Jews read this inscription, 
because the place where Jesus was crucified was near the city; 
and it was written in Hebrew, Latin, and Greek.
So the chief priests of the Jews said to Pilate, 
“Do not write ‘The King of the Jews,’
but that he said, ‘I am the King of the Jews’.”
Pilate answered,
“What I have written, I have written.”

When the soldiers had crucified Jesus, 
they took his clothes and divided them into four shares, 
a share for each soldier.
They also took his tunic, but the tunic was seamless, 
woven in one piece from the top down.
So they said to one another, 
“Let’s not tear it, but cast lots for it to see whose it will be, “ 
in order that the passage of Scripture might be fulfilled that says:
They divided my garments among them,
and for my vesture they cast lots
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This is what the soldiers did.
Standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother
and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas,
and Mary of Magdala.
When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple there whom he loved
he said to his mother, “Woman, behold, your son.”
Then he said to the disciple,
“Behold, your mother.”
And from that hour the disciple took her into his home.

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After this, aware that everything was now finished, 
in order that the Scripture might be fulfilled, 
Jesus said, “I thirst.”
There was a vessel filled with common wine.
So they put a sponge soaked in wine on a sprig of hyssop 
and put it up to his mouth.
When Jesus had taken the wine, he said,
“It is finished.”
And bowing his head, he handed over the spirit.

Now since it was preparation day,
in order that the bodies might not remain on the cross on the sabbath,
for the sabbath day of that week was a solemn one, 
the Jews asked Pilate that their legs be broken 
and that they be taken down.
So the soldiers came and broke the legs of the first 
and then of the other one who was crucified with Jesus.
But when they came to Jesus and saw that he was already dead, 
they did not break his legs, 
but one soldier thrust his lance into his side, 
and immediately blood and water flowed out.
An eyewitness has testified, and his testimony is true; 
he knows that he is speaking the truth, 
so that you also may come to believe.
For this happened so that the Scripture passage might be fulfilled:
Not a bone of it will be broken.
And again another passage says:
They will look upon him whom they have pierced.

After this, Joseph of Arimathea, 
secretly a disciple of Jesus for fear of the Jews, 
asked Pilate if he could remove the body of Jesus.
And Pilate permitted it.
So he came and took his body.
Nicodemus, the one who had first come to him at night, 
also came bringing a mixture of myrrh and aloes 
weighing about one hundred pounds.
They took the body of Jesus 
and bound it with burial cloths along with the spices, 
according to the Jewish burial custom.
Now in the place where he had been crucified there was a garden, 
and in the garden a new tomb, in which no one had yet been buried.
So they laid Jesus there because of the Jewish preparation day; 
for the tomb was close by.

 

 

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When God Picks Your Lent

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Lent has begun. Every year, I sit quietly before it begins and I make a private list of how I will observe Lent. I try to find the right balance of “give something up” and “do something extra.” And more often than not, God has other ideas. It’s not that He objects to or overrides my grand plans, it’s just that He provides more. God plans Lent. I just have to show up.

The first week of Lent, I watched a young man die of cancer while my eldest son, his dear friend, stood helplessly in an ICU. The second week of Lent began with death come too soon. The third week of Lent will find me at two funerals—one for a very old man and one for a very young man, My little girls balk when we read Easter stories. They want me to skip the pages that hold the crucifixion and the burial in the tomb. No one really wants to look at death. But sometimes, God picks your Lent.

Lent has a way of forcing us to consider the ends of our lives. It has a way of asking us to answer essential questions. Every year, Lent comes along and makes old men and women of all of us. In a way, Lent is an annual practice for the twilight of life. St. John of the Cross writes about that time, “In the twilight of life, God will not judge us on our earthly possession and human success, but rather on how much we have loved.”

So, too, in the Lent of the year, as the earth starts to warm soft and damp beneath our feet and there are the faintest stirrings of new life in the trees, we stop and reflect and look to our souls. How much have we loved? How well have we loved? Is there giving yet to give? It is not yet over. We are not yet to the close of this life.

Lent asks us to closely examine the way we live in light of the way we want to die. This Lent, a man will be put to rest just a couple weeks after his thirty-second birthday. I assure you, we know not the hour or the moment that Jesus calls us home.

What we do know is that for today, for this season, He gives us Lent. He beckons us, with the Universal Church, to draw closer to Him, to truly see the plans He has for our lives. He wants us to surrender our plans—our plans for Lent and our plans for next summer and our plans for next year. He wants us to leave them at the foot of His cross and to see that He has a better plan.

We can’t skip the pages with the crucifixion and the burial in the tomb. We have to hang there with Him and to see from His vantage point the sick and the hurting and the poor and the grieving. We have to understand that He hung there to bring them mercy.

Your hour has not yet come. Walk down from Cavalry’s hill. Be the hands and the feet of the crucified Lord and extend His mercy. You only have one life to offer. Make it count.

 

 

Notes before Lent Begins

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In the atrium, right before their first confessions, the children gather with their parents and meditate on the  the true vine. It is my favorite of five preparatory meditations. I will never tire of watching the "ah ha" in the eyes of children (and, frankly, their parents) when they see that God is the sturdy vine that supports healthy gowth and He also prunes so that they will bear much fruit.
Remain in me, as I remain in you. Just as a branch cannot bear fruit on its own unless it remains on the vine, so neither can you unless you remain in me.
I am the vine, you are the branches. Whoever remains in me and I in him will bear much fruit, because without me you can do nothing.
Anyone who does not remain in me will be thrown out like a branch and wither; people will gather them and throw them into a fire and they will be burned.
If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask for whatever you want and it will be done for you.
By this is my Father glorified, that you bear much fruit and become my disciples.
As the Father loves me, so I also love you. Remain in my love.
John 15: 4-9
 

Lent is a time of pruning. Before the rapid growth of springtime, before the burst of joy at Easter, He prunes. I have been blessed in Lents past. I have been blessed with a gracious God who cares so much for me that He  made clear to me what I must do lest I wither and die. One year, He showed me clearly how to prune away the branches in my life that were keeping me from spending time in Him, from remaining in Him.It was excruciating, that pruning. And scars remain even today. He showed me that there is a difference between talking about religion and being drawn into the very being of Jesus Himself. I don't ever want to forget.

That Lent, in a most alone sort of way, I turned to the timeless prayers of the Church, to scripture, and to the wisdom of the saints of old. I went again and again and again, with the rhythm of a well-practiced monk, to the Liturgy of the Hours. And there, I lingered, remaining in Him. Easter found me clinging to God.

Let your religion be less of a theory and more of a love affair.

~G.K. Chesterton

Lent is a gift. A grace. An opportunity. Lent calls us to Him.

Lent is a chance for a Love Dare like no other. It's a chance to let the God prune and then to water us with His grace. It's also a chance to rest in Him, to stop trying to struggle under our own strength and let His love be sufficient be more than enough. It's a time to surrender to the love of God. A woman cannot have a love affair with a stranger. She cannot have a love affair with someone she knows only through the teaching of other people.

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In order to be in love with God, she has to remain in Him. But how? How to remain in God? How to know Him so well that she rests in Him, abides in Him? How to be always with God?

To be ignorant of scripture is to be ignorant of God.

~St. Jerome

“The Gospel,” they explained, “is to be understood not as a book or a doctrine, but rather as a person: Jesus Christ, the definitive Word of God, who made himself a man.”

~drafters of the preparatory document of the 2012 Synod on the New Evangelization

 

To know God as a person--to have a relationship--she must know Scripture. And not just a little, not just as read from the missal. Not just on Sundays. But really, really know it. Know it so well that she rests in it, that it is the background music to her life, every minute of her life. Know it so well that it abides in her and she in it.

If you remain in me and my words remain in you..

I want to breathe the Word of God to the point where I don't know where I stop and He begins.

Have you ever met someone like that? Someone truly united, truly remaining in God? It's an amazing thing to behold. She walks in grace. She blesses with her smile, with her gestures, with her words. She lives the life for which she is created because she is the genuine image of God He intended her to be.

I want that.

So, yes, this Lent is about Scripture, with the sure idea that this is not a temporary Lenten habit but a lifetime habit.

I know that in order to make time for Him, I will have to again prune away those things rob time, waste time. I will have to quiet the voices that do nothing to bring me closer to God and nothing to help me hear Him. And then I will make some conscious choices.

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Quiet time is the pillar of my day. I admit freely that this is not a heroic sacrifice. I am wired to get out of bed easily in the morning. I am never anything but happy to settle into a chair with the Word of God in total silence. The sacrifice is putting it all away and getting on with my day. Morning breaks beautifully here. It's keeping that melody of His voice playing throughout the day that is tricky.

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There will still be that Lenten Spring Cleaning List. And then there's Forty Bags in Forty Days, but I really don't think I have stuff for forty bags. I don't know; maybe I do. I'm going to give it a go. Regardless of how many bags I fill, systematic spring cleaning always benefits us all spiritually. Easter in a clean, uncluttered home is a beautiful thing!  God will accompany me as I clean. I've downloaded an amazing audio dramatization of the RSV Bible to my computer and my iPhone. I can listen as I deep clean corners, as I fold laundry, as I clear clutter. And if my children happen to be with me, all the better. They can listen, too. I start the day's listening every day with John, because I promised a friend I'd memorize with her and I'm woefully behind where I should be by now. And then, I move on to Matthew.

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I'm focusing on the Gospel of Matthew because that's the Church's focus this year. So, it's Matthew again and again in my listening, until it's a part of me. The children and I are memorizing large chunks of the Gospel of John together, using a simple system, maybe two simple systems;-) So that might not be simple--but it's effective;-). I fully admit that I have exploited the ridiculous competitive spirit in this family to motivate some major memorizing. Whatever it takes. I think this gift of the Word could be the greatest gift we ever give our children.

The books baskets have been stuffed with Lenten story books, Bible story books and children's Bibles. And I will make time, several times a day, to read them aloud in unhurried, joy-filled moments with my own dear loves. (I hope to make a list of New Testament story picture books to share with you very soon--feel free to email me with your favorites.) Everyone over ten has been spending about an hour every day for the past few months going slowly through Fr. Barron's Catholicism. We watch together, talk, look up scripture references, use the study guide, and then journal privately. It's bearing tremendous fruit--really, this time is every good thing I ever imagined when I first considered homsechooling over 20 years ago. I'm grateful beyond words for it. 

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There are Bibles in nearly every room of my house and we've recently begun to consult severaltranslations and commentaries and a Bible dictionary whenever something comes up in conversation. These moments of discovery are joys with older children.

 

And then there is that lovely electronic version on my Kindle. A Bible everywhere I go.

Lenten reading this year? Oh, it's so much more than just Lenten reading.

It's Jesus.

The Word of God.

More On Lent

Hiding the Alleluia (tutorial, sort of)

Talking with Your Kids about Lent

Lent is a Good Thing

Prayer Rule for all of Lent

What to Give Up?

Remain in Him

Thoughts on Fasting

Family Lent Project: Counting Blessings

~ This post is a reprise from the archives, because this plan worked and it's well worth repeating. 

Gathering my Thoughts

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{{I got a new camera the day before Easter. I haven't clicked it once, yet, but Mary Beth played with it yesterday. All pictures above are hers and are entirely unedited.}}

I find myself:

::noticing God's glory

My garden is overrun with weeds all of a sudden. I am hopeful that warm weather this week will beckon us outdoors to make it all tidy.

::listening to 

birds chirping. And chirping and chirping. I awoke to that sound. Seems appropriate for Easter Monday.

::clothing myself in 

Christmas pajamas and a UVa sweatshirt. I was cold last night. Whatever works, right?

 

::talking with my children about these books

I chose three of the girls' favorite books for their Easter baskets. These were books that they couldn't bear to return to the library.

For Karoline, it was Mossy. This is the first full book she's read all by herself. It's lovely. I am very fond of Jan Brett's books and this one is my favorite. Karoline told Kristin yesterday that "It's a nature story, but it's a love story. And there's drawing in it, too." What more can you ask for? And what does it say about my girls that they get all starry-eyed and romantic over a love story about turtles?

For Sarah, I chose Cinderella. This version is a 1955 Caldecott winner. The language is rich and nourishing. (For instance I had to explain that the "haughtiest woman" was not the "hottiest woman." My little girls live with five big brothers. That's all I can offer by way of explaining that confusion.) Sarah absolutely loves this book and much prefers this version to the Disney version, though she is definitely campaigning for this video. She likes the songs. Hard to argue with that.

For Katie, I got The Penderwicks. This book is Mary Beth's all-time favorite book. Her copy is the original paperback. And it's falling apart. When she saw that it had been republished in a beautiful, hardbound deckle edge version, she begged one for Katie. As I write though, I'm wondering why I didn't get two. Mary Beth has often said that this series is one she wants to keep forever. Hmmm...

::thinking and thinking

About renewal and Lent and how it all played out this year.

 

::pondering prayerfully

So this is the invitation which I address to everyone: Let us accept the grace of Christ’s Resurrection! Let us be renewed by God’s mercy, let us be loved by Jesus, let us enable the power of his love to transform our lives too; and let us become agents of this mercy, channels through which God can water the earth, protect all creation and make justice and peace flourish. ~~ Pope Francis

::carefully cultivating rhythm

I have no rhythm. I've been trying to find it the entire school year. First, there were renovations (of home and heart) and wedding planning. Then, advent and a wedding. Then we worked the gym into the winter rhythm and didn't drop anything else. We have had two bouts of the flu. (The kind that tests positive in the doctor's office. Thank the Lord for Tamiflu.) There was college kid spring break that didn't coincide with my planned spring break. Then there was neighborhood kid spring break; again, not with my spring break. And now it's nearly Bluebell Week, which actually is my spring break. 

There is one common thread. With every wave of rhythm disruption, I've dropped more time in front of the screen. There is only one social media app on my phone and I'm flirting with the idea of dropping Instagram, too, except I do really like it. My Facebook time is nearly nil and after a brief little foray into conversation yesterday, I'm remembering why I've so drastically reduced it. Ain't nobody got time for that.

I like to blog, though. I like to have a pretty place to capture memories and think thoughts. However, with screen time super scarce, I find myself rarely reading blogs. I check in a few times a week and read blogs of good friends and that's about it. And I wonder, can one have a place in a blogging community if she rarely communes? I've never been very good at hanging out with the cool kids. I don't really like a crowd. It's taken me a long time to recognize that one can easily place herself in a crowd online, without even really recognizing it, until suddenly she's overwhelmed by the voices. I remember Amy Welborn once wondered aloud about introverts and homeschooling. She really got me thinking. At the time, I think I had eight children and they were all at home all day long. It had never occured to me that the people in my own house were ruffling my introverted feathers. But her musing raised my consciousness. Now, I wonder, is there a place online for those of us who are Quiet? And if a house full of children are zapping an introvert's energy, can she possibly allow herself to get online and expose herself to more noise?  How does that work into what is preferably a quiet rhythm?

::creating by hand

Easter dresses. More on those on Thursday. And an unfinished Tiny Tea Leaves sweater, one that would have been just perfect for Katie yesterday, but didn't get finished. More on that, too, no doubt.

 

::learning lessons in

Food. For real. Heather’s class has me thinking and re-thinking. I’m definitely tweaking hard.  I tend to learn by total immersion and I’ve been reading incessantly. The problem is that reading about whole foods is always about two clicks away from reading about cancer. And reading about cancer is about a click from reading about late effects of chemo and radiation. And that's a really bad rabbit trail for me to travel. One can overthink food. I just did. 

::encouraging learning 

A happy not-spring-break learning lovely: Mary Beth's friend Morgan hung out around our house during the public high school's spring break last week. She gathered everyone into an impromptu reading/production of "Midsummer Night's Dream." The boys and even the littlest girls were all into the story together.  Love it when things like that happen.

There will be a decided shift in the next few weeks. We've wrapped up our writing courses for the year. I'm going to hyperfocus on math and nature study. My kids will be thrilled about the latter. The former? Recently overheard from the "magic" corner of the sunroom, where the dollhouse and fairy treehouse live: "And then my father died and the evil stepmother made me do math!"

Prevailing sentiment not withstanding, I have a math plan.

::begging prayers

For the repose of the soul of Kristin's grandfather.  Also, of my friend Katherine's grandmother, who died yesterday. May the peace of the resurrection comfort those who grieve.

::keeping house

The Triddum found me filling prescriptions for Tamiflu, racing to get BIG buckets to put under the gaping hole in the living room ceiling, answering a frantic early morning phone call when my father-in-love hit a deer in the dark, sending my best help off on a trip to Pittsburgh to see Paddy play (Mike and his dad, Mary Beth driving!), amazing seats at the Elite Eight (not me, two lucky boys), driving back and forth to every Triduum service so that healthy boys could serve, trying to finish that sweater, and shopping and cooking for dinner for twenty. None of it was as I pictured. I fell exhausted into bed last night, but I learned that there really is a rather wide, forgiving margin for imperfection when it comes to celebrating holidays. Who knew?

::crafting in the kitchen 

Leftovers. Oh, how we have leftovers! I will reinvent Easter dinner for a week. (Oh, and there were some memorable chocolate mustaches;-)

::loving the moments

when we fill the whole pew at church, but only because the "overflow" is serving at the altar and Sarah is asleep on Mike's lap, otherwise, we'd need to spill into another row.

::giving thanks 

for sunshine.

living the liturgy

We're focusing on Divine Mercy.

Easter is a season. My intention is to live it as such. Throw open the windows; let light flood our lives. He is risen! And we, too, can run and leap and shout for joy:-). So let's get after that...

::planning for the week ahead

Ballet and soccer are in full swing. The driving demands do not all fit. They just don't. My first task today is to figure out a way to get everyone where he or she needs to be. And then, I need to find a way to be sure that I work out, too. And to find time to write. And now we're back to that rhythm thing again. My plan is to go outside and weed the garden and talk to God about it all and hope He answers loudly. 

Instagram recap:

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