Since one of my New Year’s resolutions is to be more authentic, I admit that the fun title for this post came from a little framed art piece I spotted in the aisles of JoAnn Fabrics. While I would prefer to confess my inspiration springs from all that Kierkegaard, Tolstoy, and Shakespeare I’ve been poring over lately (NOT!) or the endless
hours minutes spent in daily prayer and reflection… I’m certain God continues to seek this undeserving soul’s attention. And He will undoubtedly work with what He has. Sometimes that’s the clearance section of a big-box fabric store.
Continue reading “Exercise?! I thought you said extra fries!”
When I was a wee lass, my grandma came to stay with our family for what seemed to me to be an extended period of time. It may have been in reality only a week or two, but to my fuzzy childhood memory, it was longer than usual. And yet, it felt excruciatingly too short.
When she stayed with us, it meant there was a smiling, warm face to greet me after an arduous half-day of kindergarten. My loving parents were hard-working Catholic school teachers trying to carve out a meager living, so they dealt with childcare by entrusting us kids with the heavy responsibility. My brothers were tasked with unlocking the door and not burning down the house until my parents returned a couple hours later. But as the youngest, they wisely thought it best I should spend my after-school time with adult supervision. It was arranged for me to stay with a neighbor mom who had a daughter my age. While we lived only two doors down from each other and attended the same school, our families were very different. My “little” playmate was at least twice my size and a physical and emotional brute. Today she’d probably be characterized by that popular buzzword, “bully,” but I didn’t have the vocabulary to articulate it back then. To add insult to injury, this mean girl’s mom was pretty mentally checked out and had a knack for turning a blind eye to her daughter’s mean-spirited mischief. She even mocked me when I complained. So I learned to quietly suffer through those seemingly interminable four hours, day after day.
Continue reading “A Mother For All”
I drive a minivan. Don’t be jealous. It’s been seven glorious years since my husband and I decided to take the plunge and purchase our little Honda house on wheels. To my mind, we made the right decision. From the ease of the automatic sliding doors when hands are juggling groceries, diaper bag, and baby carrier, to the times we’ve happily hauled gaggles of kids on field trips, it’s been a helpful tool in achieving our family’s version of domestic contentment. However, there have been definite downsides that demand address. “What is that smell?!” Don’t get me started on the joys of finding hidden-away “treasures” in the very back row. Suffice it to say, the heralded discovery of a new antibiotic may be in our future. But a much more pressing and troubling concern regularly plagues me. Everyone else on the road who is not a minivan driver is suffering from a severe case of M.V.D.S.
Continue reading “Signs You Suffer M.V.D.S on Your Faith Journey”
I noticed her eyes immediately. They seemed to be following me. I was in a meeting, explaining something when mid-sentence—Zap! Poof… everything I was saying magically evaporated.
Awkward silence. “I’m sorry. I just had a senior moment,” I heard myself saying to excuse my inexplicable, abrupt absent-mindedness. She responded with mild laughter, but I just swallowed and tried to reorient myself.
The Parish staffer with whom I was meeting had a smattering of photos on her wall, some I recognized as famous 20th-century saints, others not at all. But there was one black and white headshot of a young woman that seemed to be imploring me to look back. As I gained my composure, I found myself continually drawn to those familiar, heavily-lidded eyes. Each time we experienced a lull in the conversation, my gaze landed on that photo. While I had undoubtedly never seen the young woman before this moment, I was strangely convinced I knew her.
Continue reading “Stalked By A Saint”
To all my We’re Late For Church readers and followers, a heartfelt Merry Christmas! I hope your holiday is filled with the beautiful peace of this holy season. And I pray there are plenty of laughs to go around at your Christmas gatherings. While the holidays can be stressful, I always try to make time for some comic relief. Mother Angelica understood the Herculean effort required to be a good Christian during the holidays. She once sagely quipped, “If it wasn’t for people, we could all be holy.” In an effort to spread some Christmas laughter with all of your people, I’ve created a game that has the potential to create some good-natured tomfoolery at your table. Thank you to my lovely group of “Sisters in Christ” who helped me road-test the game at a recent get-together.
I hope it brings lots of laughter to you as well. In the words of St. Ignatius Loyola, “Laugh and grow strong!” Lord knows he was a real wimp.
Christ’s blessing of laughter and strength for you and your family!
Introducing: The Saints and Sinners Game. It’s a twist on the game of Balderdash. You will need to print the two, easy-peasy PDF documents I’ve created to learn how to play. Enjoy! And may you experience one of the greatest gifts of all, laughter!
Saints and Sinners Game
Saints and Sinners Rules
If you feel so inclined, let me know in the comments section how it went over with your brood of holiday revelers… unless it didn’t go well. That you can keep to yourself so I can blissfully go on thinking it was a good idea.