Easter Without the Bunny

Every year since we've had kids we've tried to find a way to balance Easter with it's fictional side kick, the Easter Bunny. We're not so big on loading the kids up on candy, and aren't entirely keen on having to have what is essentially another opportunity to drain our pocketbook for toys our kids will forget about in a matter of minutes. We have a hard enough time with the seemingly unavoidable consumerism that has taken over Christmas, to willingly participate in the same misguided excess at Easter seems too much. So when push came to shove this year, we simply opted out of the Bunny of it all, and dove more deeply into the real reason for celebration, the death and resurrection of Jesus. And you know what? The kids didn't notice. They didn't complain. They didn't ask where their baskets were. We had lots of special family gatherings, ate more than our fair share of desserts and enjoyed each other. A little bit of chocolate found its way into their hands, which I had no problem with at all, as it came as the loving gift of family and not at the hand of a bunny on steroids.

So if we didn't have the Bunny, what did we do instead? After a long, TV free Lent (excluding joyful breaks for Papal election fun, a few very special feast days and Sundays), we watched a movie or two. The kids were overjoyed with the idea, although often they would just wander away from the TV to play. Go figure. We read lots of books. We enjoyed their Daddy's first 4 day weekend since they were born (excepting of course the birth of children). We ate home made hot cross buns (not exactly the best buns ever made, but the kids LOVED them. There's no accounting for taste). We went out for a big lunch at both our parents' places (ham and turkey!) and had our own quiet ham dinner. We talked a lot, played even more, and delighted in wearing our new Easter clothes. Each of the kids got to feel their baby brother kicking them through my belly! And that's just what happened at home.

The big thing that we did this weekend was celebrate Jesus and His gift to us! On Friday, we went to the Solemn Good Friday Liturgy, which was a few hours long. The two young ones fell asleep (baby girl on me, and little boy on our new baby boy's Godmother), but woke up in time to venerate the Cross. Little boy knelt and lovingly kissed the Cross with such complete faith I could barely hold back my tears. Big brother and sister also venerated the Cross with the same child-like faith. They've each heard of the Passion, death and Resurrection of Jesus, so they drank in the liturgy. We were blessed to have a sign language interpreter for our hearing impaired parishioners, and big girl was enraptured with her facial expressions and hand gestures. During the Psalm, which has a repeated refrain for the congregation, she attempted to imitate with some little success the complex sign language.

On Saturday night, I attended the Vigil Mass while the kids stayed home with their Dad. If I didn't have the pee every few minutes, I doubt I would have noticed that it lasted a marathon 3.5 hours! As I sat and listened to the history of salvation through the 9 readings and 7 psalms, I felt my heart drawn up in gratitude. I felt myself at each reading echoing the beautiful Hebrew phrase "Dayenu", it would have been enough, and with each new reading and then the sacrifice of the Mass I was reminded that God always goes beyond enough with His children. It made me want to be a better Mom, who doesn't allow "enough" to be my measure for how I show my love to my children.

On Sunday, we woke up bright and early. I had a dessert to get ready for our family lunch at the in-laws, which I managed in no time. Once the kids got up, I quickly got the kids dressed in their finery. The girls each had new dresses, and the boys got one more use out of their adorable dress suits (sadly biggest boy has outgrown his now). My husband and I did our best to look even half as nice as they did. He succeeded handily in his handsome grey pinstripe suit (he wore the dress pants, a nice shirt and the vest and he looked like a million bucks). As I'm getting to the point where I'm too pregnant for most of my fancier clothes, I opted for some dress pants and a nice shirt. Ideal for kid wrangling. Mass was wonderful! We had three infant baptisms, amazing praise music, and our usual high quality homily from our Pastor. The kids were filled with joy, and even baby girl got in on shouting ALLELUIA! All their talk revolved around gratitude, joy, and Jesus.

It was exactly what Easter should have been about. And no talk of bunnies. Or chickens. Or chocolate eggs. Or what present they were getting. We sat back and let the Church lead us through Easter, with faith, tradition, and gratitude. Without have to force them, our kids gladly kept their eyes on the Cross and joined with Mary in her awe over the empty tomb. The Easter Bunny is fine, and mostly harmless, but I'm glad we didn't put the effort into what would only have been a distraction for our kids.

I Have a Confession...

I am kind of ashamed as I write this, but I can't remember the last time I went to receive the Sacrament of Reconciliation. My husband, bless his beautiful God-loving heart, tries to go as often as he can. He even has a Spiritual Director who hears his confession by appointment. My dear husband makes time for Confession because he knows how important it is to him, and leaves feeling his heavy burdens have been lifted. Every time he comes back home after being washed clean, he is a different man, a happier man, a man filled with grace. I want to hold him closer and try to get some of that grace by osmosis.

And then there's me. I'm sure I've gone since, but the last time I know for sure I went for confession was when I was in Rome for a month. That was in November 2004. I'm sure I went once or twice in 2005-2006 (which was when I was in the Franciscans and then when I got married). I've also attended general absolution. Before that trip I had a close friend who was a priest who would hear my confession, with whom I felt so comfortable sharing all the darkness in me. He took me seriously, talked things out, and gave me penance that challenged me and helped me grow stronger against my sins. Then he moved away. I'd had some good experiences with other confessors, but nothing really clicked. I was relying too much on their ability (or lack thereof) to talk things out, and not enough on the fact that through them Christ was reaching out His hand to take away my sins and relieve my burdens.

I grew up in the days when private reconciliation was very uncommon. My parish ran frequent third rite Reconciliation services where we'd all be communally cleansed. My father was never big on Confession from what I could tell (or if he was, he didn't share it with me) and my mother was a recent convert and hadn't been able to make the leap about this Sacrament. The year of catechism that was supposed to have First Reconciliation, my parents didn't send me. I had my First Reconciliation in High School after I'd had my conversion, and was overwhelmed and puzzled by the experience. Since then I've always struggled to force myself to seek it out. I was so lucky to meet a priest who was able to gently teach me the value of the Sacrament, and also to walk me through the process. He helped me realize that this was a Sacrament, something I needed, something given to me as a gift to heal my heart, cleanse my spirit, and help me grow in strength of resolve. Whether or not it's delivered the way "I like it" (whatever that means), the Sacrament of Reconciliation is a conduit of grace and mercy.

Even knowing that Reconciliation itself is a grace and not a burden, I've still managed not to seek it out for far too many years. It's not like I haven't needed it. I try always to be a really positive person and to live my faith inside and out, I am by no means perfect. I am not a perfect friend, wife, mother, daughter, or Christian. Sometimes I'm downright bad at all of those things. For far too long I've been using motherhood as an excuse not to force myself out the door. I'm still plagued by nervousness and fear of Confession. God knows my sin, and yet I am afraid I'm going to go into the Confessional and God will shake His head at me. Sounds silly. I know.

So this Lent, I'm forcing myself out the door. I'm going to answer the dulled whisper of my heart calling me to reconcile myself to God. I want to say I'm sorry to Jesus for the the scourge of my sins, the nails of my faults, and run back into God's arms crying mercy. On Easter, I will be able to remember that the Cross is the happy fault that redeems me, not an endless sacrifice I won't accept. Pour on the mercy, Lord. Fill me with Your Grace. Help me through the Sacrament of Reconciliation to draw closer to Your Cross and to go forth and sin no more.

Lent With Kids

For 5 long years I've struggled with how to do Lent with kids. I didn't want to confuse or overburden them with the idea of fasting when they were so young and didn't fully understand. I felt like I would simply be taking something away, without them being able to gain the spiritual fruits of their sacrifices. After watching them travel through Advent this time I realized I was looking at things all wrong. During Advent we treated that time of preparation as a gift and the kids ate it up. Instead of waking up one day and having it be Christmas, we had some build-up. While presents were a big deal in their minds, it was such a joy to see them make a space in their hearts for the Christ-child. When the congregation rang out the words of the Angels, "Glory to God in the highest!", the kids, after an entire Advent of preparing, were so full of joy I'm sure they out sang (or out shouted??) the choir.

So why can't we do that with Lent? Why can't we use these 40 days of Lent to make that space in their hearts a little bigger, a little deeper, a little broader? I remember last year on Good Friday we took the kids up to reverence the Cross. The three oldest had so much tenderness for Jesus. They asked me when we got back in the pew if we were kissing Jesus to make His boo-boos all better. My daughter, after I explained the crucifix was an image to remind us of how much Jesus loves us, said she wishes she could hug Jesus and kiss all His boo-boos better for real. They have hearts of such deep compassion and love for Christ, even if they don't understand all the theological realities yet.

After some discussion and prayer with my husband, we came upon an obvious idea for a fast for the kids, and honestly for me too. We decided to propose to the kids that they give up TV Monday to Saturday during Lent. It didn't take long for the three oldest, our real TV fiends, to jump on the idea. We had experimented with keeping the TV off a few weeks ago without anyone getting killed or even maimed. Because of that recent experience they knew that no TV didn't mean no fun. It meant more time to ask Mommy 2 million question, do art projects, lots of music and games, and play using their imagination in freedom instead of being weighed down by suggested concepts from their favourite shows. In addition to having the TV off, I'm going to make sure we take part of each day to pray together and to talk about what Easter is all about so that when we reach Easter Sunday they'll sing with their loudest voice their thanks and praise to Jesus, their friend and saviour. That will be a gift worth every moment of sacrifice and extra preparation I can muster for them. I'm sure there are days when I'm be tempted to let them tune in and tune out, but hopefully I'll be able to pray through it and instead tune them into the Spirit that is whispering mercy and hope in their tiny hearts.

My husband and I, besides giving up some of the usual suspects (fast food being a sore spot for our bodies, souls and budget), will be adding on special time for prayer together as a couple. We hope to join a novena for Pope Benedict XVI as he passes quietly into a life of prayer and contemplation, and for his successor, who will be passing from relative anonymity to become a faithful shepherd to over a billion Catholics. We also hope to complete a dedication to Christ through the Blessed Virgin Mary. My sincere hope is that our meagre efforts will bring us closer as a couple and a family, and that we will find ourselves closer to Christ as we weep at the foot of the Cross, wait in vigil by the tomb, and celebrate again the Resurrection. Tonight, let the imposition of the ashes on our foreheads be a reminder that we owe our life and breath to God, and let it be the beginning of our journey as a family to come closer to the heart of Christ.

Perspectives on the Papal Resignation

Just days ahead of Ash Wednesday, a surprise announcement has come out of the Vatican. To the shock of both clergy and Catholic faithful around the world, our dear Pope Benedict XVI, has announced his plans to abdicate the papacy on February 28th, 2013. It has been just shy of 600 years since a Pope has stepped down, making way for a new successor. Commonly, the Pope leaves office as he leaves this world.

As many will remember, the world watched as just over 8 years ago our beloved Pope John Paul II, a figure much loved and respected by Catholic and non-Catholics, gradually died before our very eyes from the complications of Parkinson's. His timely witness to the dignity of humanity even in death was at once heartbreaking and inspiring. As one of the millions of young people who saw John Paul II as a dear friend, watching his slow dignified decline through the lens of the media, I recall the deep respect he earned from me through his life and his death. When he finally passed into the hands of our Heavenly Father, my heart cried out "Well done, good and faithful servant!". My grief over the loss of a living Saint who had touched my own life in such a personal way was tempered by the knowledge that he was before the throne of God, being rewarded for his lifetime of suffering service.

When I heard the news today that Pope Benedict would be resigning, my brain ran through all the moments leading up to his election, from the death of his successor, the funeral Mass, the conclave and then the joy of seeing for the first time in my lifetime the white smoke floating over St. Peter's Basilica. Today I gladly have no grief in my heart as I had when Pope John Paul II passed away. We have before us a man who is not on death's door. Yes, he is frail at clearly at the beginning of the last decline before he finds his home in Heaven, but he leaves us with clear mind and sharp wits. I do feel lost knowing that in just over two weeks my Church will be without a spiritual leader, and that another successor of Peter who I have loved as family will be leaving us. I find great comfort that he will go to the life he has always wanted, a quiet life of prayer and writing. He is a man of incredible intellect with an easy and accessible style that can feel the soul without having to wade through too much jargon. I've enjoyed his books for nearly 15 years, and I look forward to reading the surely deeply spiritual works he will produce from his future life in a cloistered monastery. While he may not be acting as the successor of Peter anymore as of the end of this month, I know his legacy in the Church won't end as of March 1st. Beyond his own personal work, I think his huge legacy today has been the reminder that we have to always keep our hearts open to the will of God. This isn't about his frailty, his health, or his personal struggles. Today is about the fact that God has said that Benedict's mission in this world is now somewhere else. Just as John Paul II gave us the witness to the dignity of a natural death, Benedict leaves his role as Pontiff by giving us a witness to the fact that God always has a care and concern for us, and guides us on our path is we would remain open to his call. Jesus is reaching out to each of us with a plan for our ultimate good. I'm sure on the day of his election, then Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger was filled with deep humility and was surely even shocked that he was elected, but he prayerfully accepted knowing God would support him and guide him through his years in the Papacy. Now, we see the fruitful continuation of that life of abundant prayer, that God would release him to a life of quiet piety, by invited Benedict through the silent whisper in his heart to accept a new call, even a call that would shock and surprise the Church he leads.

So we see our Pope as he follow God's plan for him, to leave the difficult call of the Papacy to the fruitful desert of the cloister, led always by prayer and closeness to Christ through his personal devotion. And he leaves me with an abiding feeling of hope. The Holy Spirit is working with great vigour in the Church. Already in the hearts of the Cardinals I trust that the Holy Spirit is planting a spirit of openness, and recognition of who it is God is calling next to wear the heavy mantle of the Papacy. As the Cardinals sit locked in conclave within the beautiful Sistine Chapel, I will be glued to my TV full of prayers for their weighty task, but I will also be full of excitement and expectation to see where God is leading us now. I know I will be spending my Lent offering special devotion for the man who God will call and our Cardinals will elect. The media has their idea and their spin on who would be the "right" choice in the eyes of the world, but I delight in knowing that the choice isn't up to us, it is up to God, who will use the Cardinals as willing instruments of His will. I will be praying for whomever God chooses that he find solace in his faith, and strength in the confidence God will show in him.

To Pope Benedict, I say "well done, thou good and faithful servant" just as I did to Pope John Paul II. I remain filled with the deepest gratitude for his long life of service. In leaving the role as Pope, he draws the eyes of the world on our Church, giving us a chance to share a witness to the joy of our faith and our love of the Church. May God bless all of us within the Church to be as good teachers as Pope Benedict has been, to share with clarity the truth of our faith and to inspire others with our steadfast love of God.

Lenten Journey

Last night we had our reveleries. We enjoyed good company and good food (pancakes with Nutella! Yum!!), came home and collapse in post Fat Tuesday joy. I have always enjoyed the idea of a good feast before a fast. We need strength for the road as we take our long journey through the desert to the lonely hill of Calvary.

For the first time in weeks, my husband was feeling better. Our friend even remarked upon how relaxed he was. I feel in so many ways last night was a preparation for our own dry patch. Today we went to the doctor for baby girl's 6 month check up and also a follow up about everything going on with my husband. Baby girl is doing great! After a dip in her weight she's jumped back up to her old curve, thanks to breastfeeding, some supplemental formula, and most recently some solids I'm preparing for her. Besides all that she's crawling, rolling, cooing, standing and being generally amazing. The report back on my husband's health was not so positive. After an upbeat appointment with the specialist yesterday, our family doctor basically said she couldn't believe he'd been going to work, and gave him a note telling him to stay off work for two weeks. She prescribed him a new medication that has a two week adjustment period that will make it dangerous for him to be at work. To help him feel better, things will have to get worse. Suffice it to say he's following doctor's orders, but we're all stressed. 

I guess this year for Lent, God is trying to give our family a special lessons and gifts. The gifts are easy to see: the gift of time together, the chance for Hubby to heal, the chance to be home for the oldest boy's birthday, and most of all, the chance to learn once again to trust in God's enduring love and providence. God will provide. I know we'll have to work hard to make things work, but I trust He'll guide us through it all. As for the lessons, they are not so far from the gifts. I feel God wants us to learn to let go. To let go of our stress, fear, and the idea that work is more important than my dear husband's health.

This Lent, we will give up our expectations for what life "should" look like, and try to embrace the gifts God gives us in our adversity. I pray by the time we come to stand at the foot of the cross to weep with Mary for our loving Saviour, we will do it with hearts overflowing with gratitude and trust. We will see God's daily providence for us alongside the eternal providence of His Cross. We will come and mourn with deeper faith, and rejoice that God can roll any stone away. But first the desert. First the journey. And in this journey we walk with Christ always by our side, teaching us the everyday path of His Cross. God, let our hearts stay grateful.