Category Archives: Bits About Life

Life in Plan B

No one ever chooses to stand outside of Time. It’s only in moments of tremendous grief or personal upheaval that time itself serves an abrupt eviction. And standing there in a cosmic void of uncertainty, you can only examine the wreckage of expectations with a primal instinct. And lacking any cues to survival, the best that can be done is to begin searching through the rubble for any fragments of ‘normal’ that can be found. And so begins the long, hard work of rebuilding an identity.

* * *

I am a single mother of seven children now. I am not a widow. I am not a divorcee. And I am sacramentally bound to my husband until death do us part. But the process of legal separation has been a brutal reality check on a life that I thought I had all figured out. An identity I thought I had all figured out. I have been with this man for half of my life and on our 15th wedding anniversary this past December, barely a word was spoken between us.  When we started dating, he was my world. I looked to him to show me and tell me who I was, for better or worse. When the ring was on my finger, I delighted in being “his” wife and the Mrs. in front of his name. When the children were born, I thought we were complete and that hand-in-hand we’d let the fire of our love ignite and evangelize the world through the raising of good, wholesome children. I knew there’d be trials… but never, ever dreamed that I’d have to come up with a Plan B.

Yet here I am. 35 years old and navigating how to make sense of Plan B as best as I can. I have to provide for my family for the first time so I work in a restaurant to supplement the child support in order to make ends meet. I am not a stay-at-home wife anymore. The lives of my children have been thrown into extraordinary trauma, so they’ve all been enrolled in school. I am not the home educator anymore. Years of tending babies throughout the night now leave me restless and awake at all hours, haunted by the silence.  And my breasts ache to nurse the baby who is denied his mother’s embrace. I am not an attachment parent anymore. I do not go out on dates. I do not enjoy Valentine’s Day. I do not feel the complete happiness and satisfaction I once knew hanging out with our married friends, but I have no place among the young singles either.

* * *

What is most bewildering is the forgetting that happens outside of time. Faces you know and love may come to visit. And they will offer some comfort: a breaking of the bread or companions in the search for artifacts of consolation. “A sorrow shared is a half joy.” But the faces know what the native can’t seem to remember: life goes on. Elsewhere. Inside the proper laws of time and space and a reasonable continuum of normal.  A place where babies are born, brides are kissed and dogs are played with at the park. So a choice has to be made. Build a bridge to this Elsewhere. Or stay longer and continue to water seeds of bitterness that can never bear fruit. Keep trying to warm the dead body with a torn up blanket or take the blanket to a friend and have her help you stitch it back together.

* * *

Plan B is a no-man’s land in the world of devout Catholicism. While broken families are the norm in the larger culture, being separated with children makes you a demographic ghost in my particular community. People aren’t quite sure how to make sense of what happened to our family and without cutting through what fragile threads of privacy I imagine to remain, I am forced to live with question marks tattooed on my face and speculation following me around like a personal rain cloud. It’s not my job to correct misunderstandings about how the public perceives my situation. It is only my job to be who I am and be that well.

My identity now is the same as it’s always been; I’m  just seeing it for the first time. My self-worth and character are not in the context of another person and should never have been. I am the daughter of a good, royal Father who wants nothing but the best for His children. So He gives us the Cross. Married, single, religious, or ghost… it doesn’t matter, He gives us the Cross that becomes our identity. If we can drain our ego enough to fill up on the Blood and Water that gives us life, we won’t just “accept” our cross, but we will long for it and kiss the beloved wood that will carry us to Heaven.

I don’t know what my future holds. I don’t know how much more I will have to lean on the extraordinary charity of all my friends—my myriad of Simons— to help me carry this Cross. I don’t know how much longer I’ll vacillate wildly between laughter and tears, hope and grief. I don’t know if my husband will ever be open to reconciliation. I don’t know how God plans to shield and save my children through this. I don’t know the end to my story. But I am trying to be patient and faithful in living it. For some people, it’s not even so much that He’s exactly authoring our story… but that He’s ripping pages away from the book we thought we had all written out already, The Divine Editor if you will. When all is said and done, we do know that He promised to work all things for the good of those who love Him.  His ways are mysterious— to be sure. But I know that I love Him the most that a broken, little fool can and thankfully… that is enough.

* * *

Time won’t wait. And time won’t promise to never toss you out again. He is cruel. But there is a way to beat him. At least, I hear it’s so.  Bury down deep, into the beating, bleeding heart of the One who beat time at his own game. And time will roll over you, high above searching for his victim, thrashing and gnashing about, like a storm inciting the ocean to a boil.  But beneath the waves,  inside The Heart, you can’t get tossed.  Time will call your number but the Heart has already called you by name.
Like? Share:

Spiritual Direction for Each Temperament

Ever been too intimidated to try reading the Summa? Or found little, pithy lessons on Proverbs to be “fluff”?  It’s probably just the type of person you are…

Well, I found something genius.  I’ve read so much on the temperaments over the years that I tend to gloss over the details nowadays. But I read that entire file and soaked up every word.  Honing in on the right kind of spiritual path for each person is really an excellent way to grow in virtue.  And what works for a Sanguine will not work for a Phlegmatic necessarily… so knowing the base tendencies we are sort of born with can really help us figure out the best way to stretch our hearts and grow in faith.

If you don’t know your temperament, I recommend this test. I think it is the most credible one you’ll find on the web and the same one found in the excellent book, Temperament God Gave You. Remember, we can’t use our temperaments to excuse bad behavior or make stodgy claims like “Well, that’s just the way I am!” Christ Himself is said to be the perfect embodiment of all the temperaments. And many saints worked on their characters so hard as to mitigate the negative side of their inborn tendencies while simultaneously cultivating characteristics that may not come naturally to them.

Once you’ve got a pretty good idea of what your base tendencies are, you can begin looking at what *type* of spiritual direction is ideal for you… assuming you don’t have a real, live, holy human at your ready.

I used Fr. Christian Kappes’ analysis of the temperaments to make a suggested reading list for each type of person.  I recommend reading the entire analysis to “know thyself” but here are just a few book ideas for each type to get you started:


(“The melancholic needs to experience tenderness and love of her soul created and cherished by God. Thus the melancholic must refrain from literature that exacerbates despair and a sense of guilt that already (for the melancholic) penetrates to the bone.”)

Introduction to the Devout Life
Finding God’s Will for You
I Believe in Love
The Power of Silence
Searching for and Maintaining Peace
In the School of the Holy Spirit
The Reed of God
Into Your Hands, Father: Abandoning Ourselves to the God Who Loves Us


(“She needs to hear and acknowledge her defects and pride as personal sins to be attributed to her own volition. The devil is usually the scapegoat for the choleric.”)

The Twelve Steps to Holiness and Salvation
The Imitation of Christ
Preparation for Death
The Spiritual Combat
The Examen Prayer: Ignatian Wisdom for our Lives Today
Humility of Heart
The Way, Furrow, the Forge
Fire Within: St. Teresa of Avila, St. John of the Cross and the Gospel on Prayer


(“…because of her weakness for immediate and gratifying pleasures, short, pithy say- ings and stories will speak to her temperament. Lengthy biographies and tomes on the spiritual life are often lost in distractions and overwhelming spiritual lethargy.”)

Way to Happiness: An Inspiring Guide to Peace, Hope and Contentment
Peace of Soul
Called to Be Holy
Reflections on the Psalms
Mother Angelica’s Private and Pithy Lessons from Scripture
Anima Christi: Soul of Christ
Saintly Solutions to Life’s Common Problems


(“Recommended are the more passionate and less intellectual and ideational works.”)

The Fulfillment of All Desire
Practical Theology: Spiritual Direction from St. Thomas Aquinas
The Life of Christ
Abandonment to Divine Providence
The Dolorous Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ
Divine Intimacy
The Joy in Loving: a Guide to Daily Living
Interior Castle


Like? Share:

The Death of the Landline

phone1While the world transitions almost fully to personal cell phones, there is something being lost with the disuse of home phones, or land lines. The opportunity for instruction. The gateway to the family. And cultivation of healthy socialization. Before these concepts get developed, allow the disclaimer that I have no illusions that culture will change overnight and suddenly the unrelenting grind of technological advancements will somehow reverse itself in a startling moment of moral clarity. Of course not. But the least that can be done, while the killing off part of our cultural heritage takes place, is to be fully awake and aware of what’s happening. An acknowledgement is in some way, a gesture of honor for what is lost.

The opportunity for instruction:

At the age of four or five, children were once taught to answer the family phone in this way: “Hello, this is ______.” The caller then asked to speak to someone. The child responds “Just one moment please.” End of basic instruction. These first lessons in politeness and speaking to adults not only set the stage for “real life” conversations, but they are tremendously effective because answering the phone is an important, real responsibility. Lessons are always best learned in the actual context of real life and there is no more pointed and effective way to teach a child lasting politeness than by trusting them with a significant task, rather than hoping they soak in the lessons from a sing-song dinosaur on television. The first phone calls were entrusted to the child while the parent stood encouragingly nearby. Later lessons included how to field solicitors or strangers, how to take a message and how to properly make a phone call. The family phone was a useful, educational tool.

The gateway to the family:

When people get a personal cell phone, they are no longer sought at a communal number. Their acquaintances and friends generally call the number that will ensure a direct and usually immediate response from the person with whom they want to speak. But cutting out the middleman actually has some side effects too. Primarily, land lines reinforced the identification of a family unit. Members do not exist in and of themselves. When calling a family line, callers are reminded of the network of individuals who live there. In some ways, the family line was always a sort of social safety check too. Parents knew who their children’s friends were for the most part. Young boyfriends couldn’t reach a father’s daughter without going through the family line. And men and women weren’t engaging in extramarital conversations via chat boxes or text message. By going through the household line to communicate healthy, fairly transparent interactions, the false intimacy that screen conversations sometimes now produce was impossible. Home phones were also excellent, necessary tools for parents who went out and left an older child in charge. The babysitter had a way to reach the parents (on their cells) or make emergency calls, without necessitating the current trend to give young teens their “own” phones (arguably opening the floodgates to other problems). Lastly, parents could call their home, speak to a child on the family line, and be able to get a fair gauge on how the hired babysitter was doing or what the state of the house was. The family phone served as a publicly visible entry to the family.

Cultivation of healthy socialization:

Without going into all the dangers of living in a culture becoming more isolated than ever (despite being more connected than ever), it’s clear that household phones offered an excellent moderation to human communication. Because of their range and limitedness, people were forced to eventually hang up the receiver and resume living in the present, interacting in 3D with the real people around them. Nothing beats the authenticity of realtime, face-to-face communication. The disuse of landlines has contributed to a new culture of people constantly furrowed over their smartphones, engaging in the e-world, with their pocket-network fan club. Home phones allowed us to talk freely with friends and family far away, and to deal with businesses or officials that needed to be dealt with. This was good and healthy. But now, we are expected to be always on. Always reachable. And those living in the real world next to us—whether they are our spouses, children or friendly strangers in a waiting room, are suffering because of our ‘absence’.

Will the dwindling number of home phones ever grow completely extinct? Projections would seem to indicate yes. But here’s to hoping that there are just enough thoughtful people left in the world who can see how quickly human interaction has shifted and who will be intentional in developing habits to reclaim meaningful connection where it still exists. And here’s to hoping that trend will spread.

Like? Share:

Water People

We are people of water he said,

So unpack your bags and rest your head
No chasing home like an skipping stone.beach 040
Peace is the needle and hope is the thread.

Itching, wishing, sand follows you in,
Dusty shells decorate shelves therein. 
Known long shadows on bluffs and on shore 
Flushing, blushing wears proof on the skin.

We are people of water he said,
With salt and rocks and green overhead. 
No land-lock ever gripped us so tight
Stopping the glory of full wingspread.

Breezing, freezing, on north side of raw
Coastal storms whipping senses of awe.
Where is the thrill away from the edge?
Flowing, growing, this tidal seesaw.

We are people of water he said,
Here, no other ’til come the deathbed.
We will rise here and we will fall here,
Making our home and breaking our bread.

Like? Share:

Holy Week in the Third Trimester

Entering Holy Week has never felt so significant to me. Parents everywhere already know a bit of what it means to be Christ-like. When we drag ourselves out of bed to calm some night-terrors, or offer the last piece of cake to a teen or give up a career to care for our children.  Through these and a million other things, parents intrinsically know what it means to “lay down our life for our children.”

holyPregnant mothers experience this is an especially salient way. Our bodies are not our own. The aches and pains of a heavily pregnant woman echo in the faintest way, the sufferings of Christ on the Cross. But like all crosses, we are tempted to squander this. I feel entitled to a second helping of ice cream because I’m pregnant. We accept the cultural attitude of pity toward us also, waddling in exasperation or audibly groaning whenever we stand up. We especially like to joke or bitterly comment with people around us about how “done” we are.  “This baby is getting an eviction notice!”

After nine long months of nausea, sciatica, poor bladder control, weight gain, food aversions, stretched, painful ligaments, swollen veins, difficulty breathing, standing, walking and sleeping and enough hormonal turmoil to fuel a volcano… of course we are ready for it to be over!  Each pregnancy becomes more difficult than the last and this final month especially is agony. But for some reason, unlike the sufferings that every good soul has to bear privately, even good, pregnant Catholics feel a bit of license to freely complain during a pregnancy.

Yet, what potential these little agonies hold for us! If only we don’t fall temptation to squander them and moan and groan to every sympathetic ear about it. Like Mary, can we find strength to “hold these things in our heart”?!  Can we give witness to life without letting the world know how miserable we are? It’s hard, I know… These past couple weeks I’ve been trying to envision how different the Passion of Our Lord would have been if he whined His way through it: “I just want it to be over!”  or “Ugh, I’m in such pain! Does everybody know how much I’m suffering for them right now?!”

What a turn-off!  But this is what I do all the time– vocalize my sufferings, consciously or sub-consciously trying to elicit the pity of others. And I wonder if the redemptive merit of each little pain isn’t lost a little bit when I do this. Holiness is found in the shadows of the cross…

Of course Jesus couldn’t hide his pain all the time. When lashed at the pillar, people knew how painful it was. And at the final moment, he cried out in thirst and a feeling of abandonment. He was fully human. In the same way, I’m not saying pregnant women need to be peppy 24/7 and never utter a word about their aches. But a smile can heal a million hearts and privately enduring some discomfort can be tremendously powerful. Accept a seat if it’s offered to you!  Wince if the baby kicks too hard! Cry a little if you’re feeling hormonal! But through all this, I want to plumb the depths of mystery and redemption that are offered uniquely to us; I want to give everything I am, my very body even, so that this child of mine can have life. The challenge is to choose to give freely and with unconditional love (regardless of our FEELINGS at the time!)… just as He did.

Like? Share:

Being Human

The irony of posting about this topic on a blog is not lost on me. My medium of communication is so riddled with flaws and difficulties as to make commenting on it— by using it— a duplicitous way to claim any kind of merit here; I get that.  But it’s what I have right now. And I am called to write.

It’s not a secret that I’ve battled mightily with trying to figure out a healthy perspective of using social media and technology. I’ve gotten on and off Facebook twice now. I use Instagram and Pinterest. I finally got a cell phone last year and admit to relying heavily on texting now. But I still am uneasy. While neither singing praises of SnapChat nor burying my head in Luddite sand, I have always been perplexed and fascinated by the conundrum of the internet and our place in using social media, ever since its inception.  I guess this is because social media serves as a mystifying and brand new intersection of two of my favorite subjects: linguistics and humanity… (humanity in the broad sense of “What makes us fully human?” or “How do we achieve the deepest parts of who we were created to be?” )

I’ve always been fascinated by language, cultural differences in idioms, how authority is shaped in words, gender differences in speech, how writing changed thinking and on and on. My senior thesis in a collegiate “ethno-linguistics” class required students to study speech patterns in a particular setting.  While my peers observed beauty salons, daycares and construction sites… I funeral-hopped around the county to see how rituals of death differed and what speech patterns taught us there.  Catholics have an appreciation for the macabre, see.

Anyway, with the advent of texting and blogging and status updates, I’ve been fascinated in the ways we allow these mediums to shape our thoughts, and vice versa.  As communication is a natural part of relationships, it’s also been fascinating (disturbing, surprising, disappointing, pick your adjective…) watching how the online world has shaped our humanity… and what it’s done to human freedom.

We are all prey to it; anyone who is being intellectually honest has to admit that the temptation is there to think “This would make a great status update” or you think of life’s moments in 140 characters for the tweet you want to send out.  I don’t think it reflects on whether we are “good” or “bad” or “cool” or “independent” to admit this—the science of neural rewiring is beyond our conscious control. (Please read: The Shallows: What the Internet Is Doing to Our Brains.)  I’ve noticed in my own life that I am much more distractible than I ever used to be and that real-life moments sometimes enter my brain through an internet filtered pathway: e.g. “Wow, this would make a great Instagram shot.” I don’t consciously read articles the way I used to, in a linear, intentional fashion, I scan them… processing key words or thoughts as needed.  Only rarely, when something is really important or evocative do I slow down and process it properly.

pope-paul-vi-quotes-10405What I want to accomplish with this post is very simple and very ordinary and very mundane. I have nothing new to say that hasn’t already been said on the topic… I just want to keep the topic alive.  Even if it means regurgitating my thoughts and previous posts on this subject over and over every so often. Or even if it means that I’m jumping around here or not being perfectly coherent, writing off the cuff. Because the subject is important. Because humanity is at stake. Yes, I truly believe that. The art of conversation is dying. The world, despite being more global and connected than ever, is more isolated than ever. Hearts are bleeding for true, human interaction and it is increasingly rare to find… and when found, it’s usually interrupted with texts or FB updates. We are a slave to our compulsions. Oh, to be present… !

Anyway, the last thing I want to say is a challenge to people like myself who are aware of the problem and consciously try to moderate the problem.  Often we tell ourselves that our computer usage is for good purposes: researching curriculum or getting ideas for events or creating booklists for our children or finding community where none exists in real life. I get that. None of these are inherently wrong; the internet is a beautiful, incredibly useful tool.  But there is a danger that us good, well-intentioned people have especially to spend so much time planning for the good life, reading blogs about simple lifestyles, and contriving just the right lesson plan… that we miss out on actual living. 

I don’t want my children growing up with memories of a mother who was constantly researching and planning how to be a good woman/mother/teacher… I want them to grow up with memories of a mother who was present… warts and imperfect planning and all.  I want my heart to be a resting place for them and this is not possible if my heart is flung scattershot across forums, blogs, Twitter and Facebook.

I can not create peace on my own. I am too weak and too flighty and too irritable for that.  But God has promised to protect the simple-hearted and I can certainly shed a whole lot of buzzing, screen lit baggage in order to cultivate a simple heart.

There is no magic answer or blog post you need to read on “how to live a purpose-filled life.”  It’s just the simple, ordinary work of everyday. It’s carving out silence. It’s being present. It’s surrendering. It’s living with a commitment to prayer and deciding every single day, all over again, regardless of our feelings, to shed off our selves and lean fully on Him. That’s it. That’s what makes us human and what makes us truly free. I would like very much to live in a world with as many authentically free humans as possible. And that’s why I keep raising a flag against something that has the potential to utterly destroy our freedom.

*Sigh* Maybe it feels like yet another Ellie rant, maybe it is. Shouting into the wind of hyperlinks and click-bait. But here it is. An appeal to seek the “peace which the world can not give.” I promise you won’t find it here… or anywhere on a screen. It’s out there, right in the din of bickering children and beeping washing machines and knocks at the door. Time for me to cross myself, shut the laptop and live it…


Like? Share:


Some days threaten to ambush you before you have time to rub the crust out of your eyelids. Even if you sneak out of bed, fueled by good intentions to “start this one off right” with prayer and silence and meditation, the floorboards or cooling sheets betray you to the baby and next thing you know, the toddlers are begging for a pre-breakfast snack and the teenager needs help on a science project.

The sun hasn’t even risen yet but Day swaggers toward you like a bully ready to steal your peace of mind that you so carefully packed in a bright yellow lunchbox. So putting on courage and self-sacrifice like an oversized, ill-fitting shirt, you face him. Unprepared and maybe even holding a bottle of bitterness that you know to be contraband, you face him.  But you face him.

Crocus-borii300And you have to magnify the tiniest of good things to keep your feet forward and your cowardice and self-pity from lording your instincts.  Look there: two juncos flirting on bare February tree branches, flitter, hop— Day brings nothing but a new beginning for them.  And here, a four-year old who braved the threat of a mother’s  unfair rebuke and tentatively snuck under the corner of her lap blanket to read “The Human Body Encyclopedia” oh so quietly while she types this.

The low fog distilling the buzz of the city.

The hint of coffee in the kitchen air.

The sciatica that surrendered overnight.

A clean counter.

The opposite of so many’s emptiness that hangs like a noose around their neck.  A fullness so full, it’s only my heart that is still learning how to stretch enough to contain it, to love it, to live it.

An abundance of love and mercy that will defend me against the enemy, even if my eyes are still too crusted over to recognize it.

Like? Share:

Parental Duties in a Post-Mayberry Life

I found this old file on my computer from something I wrote in exasperation a few years ago. I updated it a bit and think it’s still relevant. In the next issue of Soul Gardening Journal, I have an article that deals with some of the specifics on how to raise children in our fallen world… hopefully that’ll be out in the next few weeks!

mayberryDo your boys swim naked with their friends? Do you offer to give pedestrians rides to the other end of town? Does your town shut down and all the neighbors put on their Sunday best and walk to church together on the Sabbath? No. Our world is much more loose, suspicious and fast than the good ol’ days of 60 years ago. Without romanticizing the past, I think we all know that, as a culture, we’ve lost some of our innocence and our universally recognized standard of what is “good” and “right”.

Interestingly, so many conservative thinkers are unwilling to adapt their thinking. We shouldn’t become jaded or paranoid about our current world nor is it going to do any good mourning the loss of American values. But we do need to change the way we raise our children. From the beginning of time, parents have had the challenge of teaching what is good, noble and true to their offspring. This duty has not changed. But our methods must. Here are some examples:

Decades ago, it wasn’t essential to discuss pornography with children. They typically weren’t allowed in the “adult” section at video stores and bikini baristas didn’t exist. Today, if we ignore the issue of pornography in a misguided attempt to “protect their innocence”, our children will more likely fall victim to it. Exposure to pornography is not a matter of if; it’s a matter of when. They don’t have to go looking for it. The most innocuous search phrases will bring it right up online. I even came across it on one unfortunate pro-life ministry site—they had been hacked! It’s on cable television and practically on network TV as well. There is no need to give explicit information to young children about what they’ll see but there is a need to teach them custody of the eyes and solutions for what to do when they find it. In my own family, we the book: Good Pictures Bad Pictures: Porn-Proofing Today’s Young Kids with our 9, 11 and 13 year old children. We don’t want to spend time doing this; but we live in a culture where it would be a dereliction of our duty if we didn’t.

Mayberry is gone. We also don’t usually want to discuss child predators or appropriate touching either. These are uncomfortable discussions. Yet good parents recognize that they need to happen.

I think that we need to start rethinking the discomfort we feel about children seeing graphic pro-life imagery as well. Now, I would never suggest that all children of all ages and all sensitivities need to be exposed to these signs as soon as possible. Indeed I don’t want my own children to see them! There is horror and concern about damaging the innocence of children. And these are valid concerns. Our world is fallen and it’s not natural to introduce children to the horror of killing, be it abroad or domestic. Yet we have to stop idolizing this idea that its possible  to give our children a natural childhood anyway. It’s tragic. But the world we live in has made it essential to adapt our techniques and to do the best we can.

A friend of mine was very concerned when I mentioned off-handedly some of the content of my son’s Confirmation prep program… how it talked about dating. She was ruffled that the Church would mention teenage dating at all!  That our children should be “safe” from such discussions in our faith communities. I responded to her that not only was I tolerating this discussion in the class, but I was grateful for it! No my son hasn’t ever had a girlfriend… but I am thankful that the reality of teens dating is being discussed in the context of the faith. I mean, he can go across the street to park and watch a couple of 12 year olds make out and know that hormones, peer pressure and stupidity coexist… but he will draw his own conclusions on these things if they are not proactively discussed by faithful people. We can’t get away from the fallen world. This is where we live and we have to help kids make sense of it in a healthy way.

Christians wake up! Pay attention!  We can’t bury our heads in the sand and go about our little, sheltered homeschooled lives! We have to be savvy. We have to be aware. We have to be prepared. Offering children a safe glimpse of the fallen world from the context of a loving home will do far more good to them than simply ignoring depravity and hoping you can keep your kids out of the mud for the rest of their lives. Because you can’t. And I’ve seen too many families suffer the consequences of what can happen when they were raised with a very rigid, limited view of the real world.

Give them the truth. Give it to them in all its horror and pain. Of course with sensitivity and proper timing. Of course with proactive love and not reactive punishment. But give the truth all the same knowing that your love will soften the blow. And trust in the mercy of God and the care of the holy angels to be the safe bridge for our children over the muck and mire that is inevitable on the path to Heaven…

Like? Share:

What I Read in 2015

Last year, everyone was posting their “Year in Review” on Facebook and I thought it would be fun to post my “books in review” for that same year.  What I didn’t anticipate was how hard it would be to remember all the books I read; I listed the standouts but am sure others were lost in my brain traffic.  So when January 2015 rolled around, I decided to keep a reading journal for the first time ever. And I’m really glad I did…  I just wrote the title of a book as I finished it and made a few notes for future reference.

The effect this had on me is two-fold: 1) I can clearly remember which books I loved and what I loved about them and have specific reasons why I would recommend them to certain people.  And 2) Journaling my book titles made me a more intentional reader. Last year, I was sad at how little fiction I had read so I made a point to include more fictional reading this year and am a better person for it …

Not included of course are picture books and read alouds I did with the children.  But in short, here is a literary tour through 2015 with The Bleeding Pelican..


The Willpower Instinct: How Self-Control Works, Why It Matters, and What You Can Do to Get More of It  This book was absolutely fascinating and a must-read in order to understand the struggle of willpower. It directly helped me to order my day better once I was equipped with a better knowledge of self. Super highly recommended.

Parched: A Memoir I read this book just before going to a mini retreat with Heather King. She and I have very little in common by way of life circumstances and choices, but in her writing I find something so authentic and raw that my woman soul can’t help but be nourished by her words.  The first book I read of hers, Redeemed, was even more poignant.

Outliers: The Story of Success Riveting. I think it’s honest to say that this is perhaps the most INTERESTING, non-fiction book I’ve ever read in my life. My brother-in-law was bugging me to read it so I did so with reluctance but for the life of me, I could not put it down.  What a master story teller Malcolm Gladwell is!

books2015The Hidden Art of Homemaking I was very surprised at the treasures inside this vanilla-sounding title of a book.  I kept taking pictures of little paragraphs here and there of parenting and spiritual wisdom that goes far beyond homemaking. It’s all about making the most of your God-given gifts in many capacities… really, really great.

The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up: The Japanese Art of Decluttering and Organizing My first audio book I’ve ever listened to (that was just for me, not children).  There were parts I loved. And parts that were a little weird (thanking your items for their service to you before disposing of them).  But all in all, it was a good reminder to keep only in your home things you find useful or beautiful… things that make you happy.

The War of Art: Break Through the Blocks and Win Your Inner Creative Battles This book was a catalyst for me to get moving and get serious about writing. Super, incredibly inspirational.

To-Do List Makeover: A Simple Guide to Getting the Important Things Done  Some good points, but it read like a giant blog series of posts (which in my understanding, it originally was).

Beauty in the Word: Rethinking the Foundations of Education  This book is excellent for nerds who enjoy educational philosophy. It’s not a practical “how-to” or even inspirational homeschooling book. It’s just good, sound theorizing on the art of educating human beings… RIP Stratford Caldecott…

Etty Hillesum: An Interrupted Life the Diaries, 1941-1943 and Letters from Westerbork Alas, I got this from the library and wasn’t able to finish it before another user put a hold on it. I keep meaning to get back to it because there was something different about Etty that really drew me to her.  Another one of those women across the generations, with whom I have nothing in common, who grabbed at my heart and found in me a sister sojourner to Truth.


Interior Freedom  Best spiritual book of the year. I know now that certain books are right for certain periods of one’s life… and not right for others. I have read spiritual books before that scared the pee out of me because I wasn’t ready for them or that I thought were boring or dense at the time.  I wonder if Interior Freedom is one of those books that is a time sensitive book.  For me, at this point in my life, and with what my interior life looked like this year… it was absolutely perfect. Sublime. But I don’t think it would necessarily be perfect for all Christians everywhere at any given time…

Searching for and Maintaining Peace: A Small Treatise on Peace of Heart This was my second visit through this book and I loved it as much as the first time. Jacques Phillippe is my spiritual director and he doesn’t even know it!!!

Life of Christ Just when you think you know a Man. A story. A Gospel. Fulton Sheen comes along to make it all brand new again.  I’ve gained so many insights into the Life of Jesus through this book and am so thankful for it.  I highly recommend it to everyone.  Ever ancient… ever new.

Come, Lord Jesus: Meditations on the Art of Waiting My Advent companion this year, and hopefully for years to come. What wonderful thoughts each day had! I noticed that it was out of print just before Advent so am happy to see it currently available.


Little Women  Part of my ‘intentional reading’ resolution was to read some of the books on my own shelf that haven’t been read yet.  It’s a fantastic goal and one I’m going to repeat for next year also.  I realized that I never actually read Little Women and so I enjoyed going through it very much.  What soul food…

The No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency I read this book to get away from another one on my list. I wanted something light and totally out of the ordinary for me… a lady detective in Botswana’s adventures suited me just wonderfully at the time.

Tears of the Giraffe This is the second book in the above series and I enjoyed the tales very much. If I wanted easy, enjoyable reading, I’d happily continue on in the series.  And somehow, though it’s very light reading… there’s an underlying soulfulness to the tales that make you yearn for a simple life, a beautiful life.

Pilgrim’s Inn  Part of the Eliot Family Trilogy and in my opinion, this second book is the crowning jewel of them all. Not sure what it is or what it isn’t about the other two books, but Elizabeth Goudge is easily in my top 3 authors of all time because of these books.

The Heart of the Family The final book in that series…  really beautifully done. Among the story and descriptives, there is eternal truths to be discovered that offer more than just a beautiful story to be read.

Emma  I read this out of desperation because I wanted fiction and was disgusted by my lack of options… to the bookshelf I go.  I’ve read other Austen novels but hadn’t enjoyed this one outside of the cinematic showing of it.  Really wonderful to escape to a world where life’s biggest concern are social improprieties and whether there’s too many people for a ball…

The Red Horse This book is the one I was running away from all year.  I started it in February… and am still only a third of the way thru it. It was my ONLY goal in the fiction world to read this book.  But here’s the thing… The Red Horse is a timeless book that you can keep going back to. Granted, I don’t recommend letting months go by in between readings because it’s hard to remember who’s who and what’s happened.  But it’s timeless because it reads on a deeper lever than most modern literature.  Eugenio Corti taught me something really important as I read this book: I am not a fiction writer.  That is a gift and it’s not mine. He is one of the best fiction writers I’ve ever been privileged to read and while I thoroughly appreciate this book and what it is… it’s heavy. And my life has been such this year as to not want to be heavy or thoughtful on this level. I would recommend it without hesitation to anyone… but it does require some commitment of both your time and mental reserve.


Like? Share:

Sometimes Everything Isn’t Going to be Okay.

(and that’s okay…)

St. Stephen… who suffered a second martyrdom in our home.

I’ve written before how God can transform our hardened hearts, how an unwanted pregnancy does not end in an unwanted child. It has been four years since my ‘unwanted pregnancy’ has been born now and I can say with absolute conviction that he is still incredibly special and an unrepeatable part of our family. That child has taught me so, so much and I am thankful for him in a way that is unique to him alone.

Two babies later, I am not feeling the cold detachment or fear that I felt with that pregnancy. But unlike child number six, I’m not feeling over the moon either. I don’t know what it is… a quiet, melancholic resolution I suppose. I do trust that this child will be loved and will be the source of unspeakable joy for my family. But it’s okay to say that everything might not be okay. It’s okay to express non-elation.

As Catholics, we confide in each other about a million different ‘spiritually correct’ fears. We can trade worries over moving or schooling or finances or illnesses or childhood behavior. But we still hide that terrifying piece of our sinful selves that harbors fear over an unwelcome conception. It just seems like such an abortive mentality I suppose! But the truth is begging to be told, to be shown, to be LIVED that unwanted pregnancies do not end in unwanted children! We already have our defenses up because our families are big; I get that. We certainly don’t need to add more fuel to the fire the secular world had against us who would offer no sympathy to our plight: “You made your bed, now you have to lie in it!”  So we shut our mouths and pretend this was all part of our plan. But even in our own faith circles?! Are we afraid of being judged? I am. But I am also able to see the fool in myself who couldn’t pretend to be perfectly pious if she tried.  (And she has. And she failed.) So with no false pretenses weighing me down, I can say honestly: I don’t feel thrilled about having another baby right now.  But something that is different now that I’ve learned… is that I don’t feel fear.

Here’s the thing, everything might be awful for a while. Having a baby next spring doesn’t change the fact that our house needs an immense amount of work, that my husband is still in a highly stressful job, that my children’s behavior needs improvement, that we are still reeling from medical bills, that our vehicle is getting too small, that there is no spare bed in which to home the baby, that I’m a terrible housekeeper, that there are relationships in my life that are delicate and painful.  No. There are still and always will be challenges. “Crosses come custom made.” (right, Helen?!) At the end of the day, I may have nothing to offer but my broken bits of failure to God. I will have mountains left undone. My to-do list will not be conquered.  But it’s okay. He didn’t ask for success, or efficiency or completion or even an organized plan. He asked for faithfulness. Nothing else should trouble us…

Last week I attended the funeral of my friend’s daughter whose life was cut tragically short by a brain aneurysm. The pain and tears were abundant that day for our entire community. But the death of that beautiful girl offered me one sweet consolation— her life was not in vain. She was unrepeatable. Life is a mysterious gift. No matter what. And I went home experiencing for the first time something that I’ve been longing to experience since I found out I was pregnant: gratitude for this life inside of me. There are so many things we do not know or understand or foresee in this world. Be it done unto me…

It’s as if we think there is this magical nirvana place of peace that we keep aiming for and we imagine that a new baby disrupts that nirvana and makes us start the journey over. You know the feeling… you wonder when you can finally get rid of your baby clothes and carseats and when you can book a family vacation and enjoy it rather than just do damage control all weekend. Or when you can hang a family portrait on the wall of what you know to be “the whole family.” Or when you’ll be diaper free and you get your bed to yourself again or you get to finally convert a bedroom to the office you’ve needed for so long… then along comes another baby and oops! Reset. Life starts over again…even if your gray hairs are already growing in.

In truth, there IS a magical place of peace and it’s called Heaven. Happy and content isn’t found here on earth. Joy is… to be sure.  But it is flavored with the salt of beautiful tears. This is our Calvary.  And we won’t ever reach a place of ‘problem free’ so long as we are Christians! If it’s not babies, it’s strained relationships. if it’s not relationships, it’s poverty. If it’s not poverty, it’s poor health. Maybe it’s all of the above! Happy are you whose sufferings are great… souls will be saved if you do not squander your cross!

So no, I do not feel fear with this baby. I can’t possibly see how everything will be “just fine”… when there are physical and mental and spiritual challenges that need to be addressed still. I wasn’t “ready” as far as my finite brain could see. But I do know that I’m not asked to see the big picture. I am simply asked to do the next right thing.  And if we can stop basking in the first world luxury of overthinking and analyzing everything to just break life down into something as simple as that: doing the next right thing… everything WILL be all right,  in the eternal end that is. Life will be hard, for some more than others.  But how great is our love?  I pray you and I deepen our love every single day.  And in my experience, there has been no more proven way to deepen my love than to open my heart to a new, unique child… who was known by the Creator before all ages. Be done unto me…

Like? Share: