My Plans and Yours

If you want to make God laugh, tell Him about your plans

I like to think of myself as a person who really goes with the flow, and that's at least partially true. Whenever life throws me a curveball I try to run with it. I do my best to follow God's lead in my life. But there's another side of me. The side of me that's a meticulous planner. I get that side from my Dad. He has a wild streak too, and has a long history of making good of what he's given, but for the most part he's the man behind the scenes, bringing an extra fruit tray (just in case) and making sure you've got the right number table settings for your wedding reception. It's an example I'm happy to follow in my own way.

The funny thing about me is that I can get a little carried away by either going with the flow, or organising things to death. Planning wise, you should see our family budget. I have every penny coming in and going out for the next year budgeted in an excel file that I check every day or so. As for meals, I buy all our ingredients on the weekend for set meals I already planned. When we were moving, I had a file where I kept a list of how many boxes we had, as well as what was in each box. I also packed as much as I could weeks in advance and wrote right on the boxes what room they had to be placed in when we moved and numbered each box. (That's probably why we waited so long to unpack the basement. I knew what was in the boxes so I knew we didn't need most of it.) Our day also runs on a very specific schedule, from when we wake up, to when we eat, naps, etc. Some of this is sheer necessity as we have four children and more planning meals less time for craziness to erupt. To guarantee they get what they need it takes planning. I know God made me very detail oriented to deal with the life He had planned for me.

Now on the other side there's the part of me that just goes with the flow. Our 4 kids weren't planned. Not to say they were unplanned either. We were just open to the fact that we could have children. And have them we did. 4 beautiful, wanted, and beloved babies in under 5 years. I also took my discernment with great seriousness, but when I felt that God was leading me in a certain direction, I just let go of my plans and went with the flow. History proves that that served me well, as my trusting in what was clearly a God-sent path led me to my husband via my old religious community. I very rarely find myself saying that something is too good to be true, because God has been so good to me in the most unexpected ways. When it comes to big picture stuff like where we're going to live, how we'll make another baby work, or even who I when I would fall in love, I knew God would give me what I needed to make things work, so long as I followed His lead with as much trust as I could muster.

I think the reason the two sides of my personality, both the detail-oriented list nut and the happy to take it as it comes side, work so well together is that in both cases there's a plan. In the first case it's my plan, working out the little things to make everything flow. In the second case it's God's plan, working out all the little things for my greater good. While I don't always do it perfectly, I'm trying to use my obsession with lists, schedules and details work towards the bigger picture of God's plan for my life. It takes a lot of trust for me, because I'm definitely the type to write out the 5 year plan down to the day. After 5 years of being married, my husband and I are not where I thought we would be. As it turns out, by the grace of God, we are somewhere infinitely better. Most days I look at my life, when I have a second anyway, and find myself in awe of all the good God has made of my attempts to plan out every moment of my day.

Thank you, God, for trusting me even more than I trust in you, and for loving me more than I could ever love you.

The Lord's My Shepherd

Recently you may have noticed our family is on a home made kick. Baby girl is 6 months old now, and I'm back to my characteristic level of energy and enthusiasm. We've been spending more at our local farmer's market than at the grocery store, which is a good sign that I've been doing more from scratch. With the exception of one loaf this week, I've made all our bread, pizza dough, and rolls entirely from scratch. Today, with the help of the three big kids (if you can call a 22 month old, a 3 year old and a 4 year old big), we made some beef stock from scratch. With the exception of a little bit of rice or pasta here and there, everything is made fresh from food we're picking up at the market. I don't want any of the busy and harried folks out there to think that I'm badgering you about it, or that I think you absolutely have to do it. First of all, it's not my business what you all do in your kitchens. It's a lot of work, it takes a lot of planning, and really forces a change of diet pretty much immediately if you go all in.

I'm not bragging, trust me. My dedication to our new meal plan really would have waivered and probably failed by now if it weren't for a few circumstances that have forced me to dig in my heels and make it work. First of all, we've gradually emptied our pantry and freezer of processed or ready-to-make foods. It's hard to reach for frozen pizza when there isn't one. With 4 kids and 2 adults, it's not exactly cheap to hit the fast food chains either. With that, I'm left with whatever is fresh that we bought. It's forcing me to follow my meal plan and I must admit I love not having to think about what's on the menu. There's no last minute running to the store for a missing ingredient, which is another bonus. Secondly, baby girl has started on solids, and I absolutely refuse to use bottled or packaged foods for her. Ignoring all the recalls on that stuff lately, I can't get behind all the added preservatives and things. What's wrong with a few sweet potatoes and an ice cube tray?

The biggest reason we haven't been stocking up on frozen pizza, canned goods, and questionable grocery store meats, stems from recent instructions from the dietition trying to help my husband through his stomach issues. He's a type 1 diabetic and has recently been blighted by paralysis of the stomach. It's not a highly common complication, but once the doctor's figured it out, it was like the puzzle pieces of the past 6 or 7 years fell into place. When I met my husband he wasn't well, and was having problems understanding random low and high blood sugars unrelated to meal times. It turns out his stomach has been holding food, and most of the time only allowing it into his intestinal track as much as a week later, which was causing random jumps in his blood sugar. He's been losing weight lately and in terrible pain. Luckily, the doctors have been able to prescribe him a cocktail of drugs that are working together to make his stomach contract so that it can empty. The medications are only one side of his treatment. The other side, the side that is the long lasting treatment, is a drastic change in diet. First on the list was to eat smaller, more nutritious quantities of protein. The second was to reduce the quantity of fiber he was ingesting (these days even most white bread is fortified to have higher fiber content, thus our homemade variety is safer). He also has to stay away from anything with a high fat content. They also suggested he eat more soft cooked veggies, particularly in the blended form in soups, and to avoid processed foods whenever possible. I could be wrong, but to me that sounds a lot like the meal plan my husband and I worked on together. With baby girl well on her way with solids, a lot of these foods were on our list for her too.

Once again I sit in the face of what should have been a sudden and scary situation that would have changed our lives drastically in a matter or days, but instead of fear I'm left with the deep convictions of God's providence. God has once again led us, so gently, so slowly, to exactly where we needed to be, having armed us with the knowledge we need to do what's right. When we first got the phone call about this major dietary change we were scared and upset, but as the days went on we realised we were already there. If I needed any more proof of God's abiding love and faithfulness to us in a time when all else is falling apart, here it is. In every hour, I find God holding me, carrying me through the rough times.

For our wedding mass, we chose the psalm "The Lord's My Shepherd". I feel like we have made that psalm the motto of our marriage. Thank you, God, for leading us gently, and for loving us in times of fear and struggle. Perhaps instead of 40 days and nights in the desert, God is choosing 40 days and night of rain for our lives. Either way I know at the end God's promise stands firm, as a rainbow in the sky and the Cross on a hill faraway.

I will trust in you alone. I will trust in you alone. For your endless mercy follows me. Your goodness will lead me home.

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. 

Perks of 4 Kids

It's easy to talk about the challenges of having a lot of kids all at once. There's the expense, the diapers, the noise, the odd smells in every corner of our house, the crying, the arguing, the terrible twos coming one after another for 4 years, the business of never having personal space, either on a piece of furniture or in the bathroom, the fact that once one kid cries at night, suddenly everyone is crying (Mommy too), and the list goes on. All of this and more is part of the daily struggle of having a family full to the brim with a baby, a few toddlers, and a preschooler. Intense drama, though momentary, is par for the course in our house.

I'm not sure that I would have it any other way. Sure, I'd love to take my bathroom breaks solo. Let me correct that, I'd love time to actually take regular bathroom breaks well before I'm doing the potty dance, running through a crowd of children to the nearest bathroom. All that being said, there are a lot of perks to having four little kids. Here's a list of my 5 favourite perks:

1. I rarely need a blanket as the body heat from four kids keeps me cozy even on the frostiest of winter mornings. These same little hot water bottles I call children are always ready to warm up my heart with genuine outburts of "I love you, Mommy!" and "You're so pretty, Mommy!", a light in the darkest of times.

2. I don't need to wake up to a loud beeping alarm clock. Most mornings I get to wake up to the sound of our boys playing in their bedroom or our girl singing loudly to the music on her radio. Even the soft whimpers of a hungry baby is music to my ears compared to the angry siren of our alarm.

3. I'm never lacking in helpers. If big sister isn't in the mood to help Mommy pick up the diaper wipes when I'm busy with baby girl, I have my two little boys on hand, begging to get involved. I'm also never without a helper in the kitchen, which makes every attempt to cook an adventure.

4. My house can look like a bomb hit it, and no one would dare to question my housekeeping skills. They know as well as I do that I could have scrubbed every inch of it, and within 5 minutes my own squad of aspiring tasmanian devils could have it back in its normal post-apocalyptic splendor. If, by chance or design, my house looks even halfway clean, I suddenly appear to be some kind of Martha Stewart-styled domestic goddess. Equally, if I manage a successful meal for guests, I am a modern day Julia Child, ignoring of course that I just dumped a pile of ingredients in the crockpot. Lastly, along the same train of thought, my personal hygiene and attire are never questioned. As long as I'm not in a robe, people seem to think I've gone out of my way for them. Fair enough. Pajamas and sweatshirts are my usual uniform when we don't have guests around. So long as the kids are dressed and clean, I've won my victory for the day.

5. This one may be my favourite. I love watching my kids becoming best friends. Sure they fight, just like any other kids, but they also take care of each other. There's nothing in the world better than coming into the livingroom to see the three older kids huddled around baby girl's exersaucer, doing everything they can to make her smile and giggle. If our youngest boy trips, the first one by his side is his big brother, giving him a hug and telling him he's okay. Our oldest girl can often be seen teaching her 3 year old brother, his letters. They do everything together by choice. I feel so blessed to witness their evolutions from roommates to friends, and from friends to best friends.

Having what is rapidly approaching a bus full of kids has its downs, but those are nothing compared to the ups. It's hard to ignore how blessed I am each day. As we finished off our long, busy, exhausting day I was so very ready to see their little heads dissappear behind closed doors. At the same time, I couldn't help but be reminded of my four little blessings when I heard them wishing each other goodnight through their joining wall. No matter how rough the day, or how rough the night ahead, that little ritual is a moment of peace and perspective that centers my day. I wouldn't trade that for all the coffee, peace, silence or sleep in the world.

Family Life, Unplugged

We decided this week to cancel our cable. In our area if you don't have digital cable or a converter box you don't even get basic channels. We struggled to make this choice, but after weeks of not watching any television with the kids (okay, okay, they've been watching movies instead) and basically only watching reruns and one or two new shows ourselves after the kids are in bed, we decided to re-evaluate whether or not we really needed cable.

I'll be the first one to admit I watch a lot of TV. Easily too much. When the kids are napping I turn on TLC and watch all the baby, bridal, and family shows I can muster. Looking at my regular consumption of visual trash, cutting off our cable is really no real sacrifice for me. I can honestly say it's good for me. My husband isn't a big television watcher these days because by the time he gets home from work, he'd rather spend time with the kids and I, and has lots of woodworking projects he'd rather get started on. For him, television is dull background noise at best, and a useless distraction at worst. Even the sports that he and I both enjoy can be watched online these days. When we used to watch cable together at night we'd click from show to mindless show just to fill the time. Half of it we weren't even enjoying or it was a repeat of an old favourite we'd seen a hundred times. Our lives were running by the cable schedule most nights with very little variety in between. We already have Netflix, so instead of investing in expensive box sets of shows we might like, we've been enjoying trying out new shows, one or two episodes per night. I know I'll miss a few regular favourites that haven't made the leap to Netflix, like Glee or The Big Bang Theory, but we can watch most of those online if we really want.

Already not having cable has been freeing. We're talking more, playing with the kids more, and simply enjoying each other more. This week, instead of turning on the TV to distract the kids, I brought them into the kitchen with me and we made bread together. They've also been helping me prepare all of our meals, which has made them more likely to try some of the new foods on our menu. They're also talking more for themselves, and spending less time mimicking their favourite characters on their morning shows (not that singing the alphabet song like Alpha Pig from SuperWhy was all bad). When we do watch a show or movie with the kids, we try to pick one good show instead of whatever's on, and then turn it off when we're done. We've also taken up bowling with them on our game system. It's pretty hilarious watching the two oldest kids jumping around with joy even when they get a gutterball. I can't imagine a better way to beat the winter blahs right in our living room.

So, while we're not entirely "unplugged", we're well on our way. Instead of tuning into the television, we're trying to tune in more to each other. I'm thankful my husband was keen on the idea too and am enjoying reconnecting with him by warm candlelight instead of the blue glow of our TV. The world is too beautiful to be seen through a box. It's time to start making plans that don't revolve around the cable schedule. It's time to work on us.

Calm After the Storm

I love Saturdays. Always have. This particular Saturday, I must say, might be in my all time top ten list. We've had a rough couple of weeks in our family. Besides Hubby's persistent, painful stomach issues (which are oh so gradually getting better), my father has been struggling with his own health concerns for a few weeks. He's had kidney stones, and after weeks of fruitless attempts to pass them, he finally had to have surgery. My father is a larger man, and I must confess I was more than a little concerned about the fact that they had to give him a general anesthetic for his surgery. By God's grace he came through in great shape and is recovering at home under the care of my mother, who happens to be a nurse. Besides all the health drama, I've been cheering on the sidelines as my mother interviewed for 3 jobs as a teacher this week. I don't know why, but I think I get more nervous and excited about it than she does. I want her to be happy and doing something she enjoys, so I find myself getting wrapped up in it all. I've also been busy having playdates and organising playgroups, which has been so rewarding for the kids and myself, but leaves me exhausted by week's end.

Suffice it to say, it's been busy, and even a little stressful around here. So as I sit lazily on my couch while the kids have their snacks, watching the snow drift down from the sky in fluffy clumps, I'm at peace. This is the gift of Saturday. This is the calm after the storm. There's nothing to do in this moment but enjoy my children and husband without worrying about the rest of the week. Our oldest girl is doing cute pirouettes to her favourite song, Cinderella by Stephen Curtis Chapman, as her Daddy watches on with a wistful smile, our oldest son is making up a story to go along with a book he can't yet read, our youngest son is snuggled next to me, eating a whole apple with a level of dedication and seriousness only he could muster, and our baby girl is on the floor getting good practice for crawling, which she seems only days away from doing (AHHHH!). My coffee is still warm and sweet. Life is enfolding before my eyes, and I'm just happy to sit back and enjoy it.

Thank God for today. A Saturday like this is just the right remedy for 100 Mondays.

How We Met

One of the stories I tell the most to new friends is that of how my husband and I met. I like to think it's one of the more fascinating things about us these days, that and our 4 amazing little ones. We're a pretty normal couple, except that our rapid courtship led to an incredibly strong foundation that has seen us through our fair share of rocky times in our 5 years of marriage.

When we met, my husband was home from the seminary, where he had been studying for the priesthood. As for myself, I was going into my final year of my Bachelor of Arts, and had been seeking out a religious community where I could pursue the vocation to religious life. There was a community of Dominican Sisters in the southern United States that fascinated me. It appealed to my desire to teach and share my experience. I was even planning on going to meet the community to take my discernment to the next level. Around the time I was in talks with their Vocations Director, word was getting around that a new community of Franciscans brothers and sisters (monks and nuns) was forming here in our city. I felt drawn to the idea of staying home and doing good work here in the city where I had been given so much. When I was invited to join as one of the founding members of the community I agreed. Around the same time, my future husband was invited to be one of the two founding members of the men's side of the community.

Everything was going well and I was very excited that the next stage of my life was going forward. On August 21st, 2005, we had our first group meeting to discuss the charism, dress and plans for our new community. That was the first time I met my husband. Although I was still focused on the religious life, I couldn't help but notice him. He was quiet, kind, but also seemed very self-assured. I was so frazzled by him, which is unlike me at the best of times, I recall offering him my plate, and possibly my fork, when he showed up late to our casual dinner. I did my best to push back whatever strange thoughts were floating around my mind. I wasn't the type to go boy crazy, so I figured that this was some kind of temptation at the gates of my vocations, and tried to let it go.

Our community formally started the next month and we each moved into our brothers and sisters convent homes. Every day we would join the brothers at their house for mass and formation. As a former cantor, I was chosen to lead our community choir, and took great joy in this small responsibility. I wanted to dive into this duty whole heartedly. Things were going very well. I would stand at the front of our tiny chapel and teach our community new songs, pacing down the aisle to listen to the voices of my new brothers and sisters. All except one. He sat tight lipped at the back of the room, not even pretending to mouth along the words. I hadn't realised it, but my future husband wasn't comfortable with singing and didn't enjoy me standing next to him pretty much singing in his ear. I thought he didn't know the tune and was trying to help, but my excitment came off as a little judgemental. Once this came to light we had a great long chat, which developped into an amazing friendship.

Meanwhile I really wasn't happy in the community. I love the life: the prayer, the habit, the rhythm of the day that gave a perpetual sense of meaning to every detail great and small. The poverty of the Franciscan life still appeals to me now. It is a poverty of spirit that trusts completely in the Providence of God even through the storms of life. With everything I loved about the life, I couldn't find any spiritual peace. I feel dogged by the feeling that I didn't belong in the community. Even though I felt suited to the life, and I enjoyed it, I couldn't let go of the nagging feeling that God had a different plan for my life. If it hadn't been for the friendship of one of the brothers, I wouldn't have weathered the spiritual storm that stole away what peace I could find from the beautiful rhythm and deep spirituality of the Franciscan life. As it turns out, this same brother was being rocked by the same doubts and persistent feeling that God was calling him to something outside our beautiful little community. For many weeks, we innocently built a friendship that helped us to each support the other. We both stayed in the community, knowing that life outside the community would be meaningless without this friendship that we had no doubt was a gift from God. I knew the moment I took off my habit, I would be required to stay away from the community for a time, which meant I wouldn't have the support of my new friend who understood me in a way no other person ever had.

Even with the draw of his friendship, I knew I couldn't stay. It was clear my fellow brother was in the same position. His prayers and discernment had led him to the knowledge that this community was no longer for him. When we tried to explain to each other our intention to leave the community, we ended up telling each other that we had fallen in love each with the other. I'm not sure who said it first. I think it was him. Or was it me? However it came out, in that moment I felt excitment, peace, joy, fear, and a nervous shaking from the inside out. That was the scariest and most rewarding moment of my life. We both layed our hearts on the line and were given a gift for trusting so completely that God had great things planned for us.

The days after we left our community were difficult ones. We felt alienated by our former brothers and sisters, villified by those who didn't understand that we entered into our relationship in complete innocence and trust, and under intense scrutiny by those who simply didn't understand how hard we had fought to get where we were over a such as short period of time. It took a few months for us to get back on speaking terms with our superior and the rest of the community. I'm happy to say we are now very close with them. As we were leaving one of our brothers said that "If it is from God, it will bear fruit". Since then, he often reminds us of that saying, pointing to our flourishing little family.

Even though our relationship starting in an unusual way, I can look back and say that that beginning has formed a firm foundation on which we continue to build our life together. Our faith is so much a part of our daily life. We know that we can bare our souls to each other without fear of judgement. If we could sit, facing each other in our religious habits, and confess love to one another, every other conversation is easy. If we could handle the drama of leaving a religious community hand in hand (and my being called a "chalice chipper" by a random old woman, like I should be wearing the scarlet letter), we can handle anything.

Every day that I wake up next to my husband, I thank God that he led me to the Franciscans so that I could meet a true friend, a brother in Christ, and a man who I can trust in my heart of hearts. Although the path we took to marriage was different than most, I know that God's plan for both of us is good. He made us for each other, and continues to remake us every day as we face our future, still hand in hand.