prayer

Year 3, Week 1: Fear Can Suck It

I don’t like being complacent. I don’t like when something is so stagnant for so long that it begins to feel like it’s dying. This strong dislike is probably why teaching as a profession sounded so alluring to me.

Now, I know, teaching –from the outside– seems like so much of the same: wake up for school, listen for when the bells tell you you might have enough time to go pee, have lunch at the school cafeteria if you forgot your bag at home, and come home to do more homework (if you have time after all your clubs and sports meetings are over). But that’s just the structure. The real meat of teaching is in all the time in between – the interactions you have with some kids who might trust you most in their world, the frustrations who have with some others whose personalities you just can’t mesh with, and the creativity that happens when make magic happen in your own classroom.

Creativity needs structure. And I have not had enough of it this past week. I’m making moves though – silently staking out different strategical posts to maximize my spiritual, emotional, mental, and physical health. Isn’t that what summer break should be about anyway?

Where does this all mesh in with my marriage?

Marriage is simply a structure. It is a set-up idea created by somebody who thought it’d be a good idea and others agreed with that somebody. In the end, it is a structure created by man. It’s frequently destroyed, re-assembled, or re-interpreted, for better or worse.

But the gifts of the structure, man. It’s something quite lovely.

My marriage allows me to feel complete freedom – which might strike somebody in the throes of their single life as a ludicrous statement. But hear me out – sure, I ‘don’t get’ to run around with all the Fabios of the world, but I have something that gives me more balance and ultimate joy. I am able to come home knowing and trusting that my man is coming home to me. To someone who has placed all their trust in someone and had it destroyed, I will argue that he was simply an arse and shouldn’t dictate your future happiness. But I digress.

Like one of my English professors once told us, “My wife tells me, ‘You can get hungry anywhere, but you have to eat at home.'”

Knowing that I will have a safe place to which I can return at the end of the day gives me the confidence to try a million endeavors and know that I will still have love to tuck me in at night even if I fail.

So I’m making the moves. I’m re-evaluating relationships that have grown stagnant and I am seeing if it’s possible to revitalize them. I am accepting to end those relationships when I realize it no longer has a pulse. I am so looking forward to growing healthier, more vibrant relationships over time. I know there will be empty space, but I’m allowing myself to be vulnerable in that place and looking forward to the journey.

I’m praying with greater earnest, following the “Thank you, I’m sorry, Please give me” method (it takes 5 minutes, but allows me to reflect on my day more intentionally before I fall asleep).

I am reading as much as I possibly can before teaching in August steals away a bit of my leisure time. I’m investigating self-publishing options to publish the first Wife Reflections Guided Journal: 52 Prompts for a New Wife and looking forward to finally finishing my first novel so I can set that up for publication before autumn.

And I just signed up for a 6-week fitness challenge with the hopes that I won’t just be considered “pretty” or “pretty skinny” but “strong” as well. My fear of never being good enough is having its final hurrah. That Ania is gone.

The structure of my marriage allows me to be more daring and creative in every aspect of my life.

Fear can suck it.

Year 2, Week 14: Prayer and Play

This week was the week of miracles – big and small. And it all stemmed from our decision to first let our knees hit the ground and then permit our feet to leap the concrete.

Two weeks ago, we found out some really sad news that Cody’s beloved Nana received an unfortunate diagnosis of cancer. We heard that the doctor told her it’s very likely the cancer began in the torso and then manifested into a tumor, which was not good to hear. This news suggested that the cancer had spread to areas that would prevent the recovery we’d obviously hope for. Cody was understandably broken up by the news.

So I decided to be recklessly hopeful.

I realized the St. Therese of Lisieux novena would be beginning soon, the memory of a woman who lived by the ideal that one can do ordinary things with extraordinary love. Those she lived with didn’t take her seriously as a young woman in the convent, but Therese did her thing anyway. I guess you can say she was the original enforcer of the “kill them with kindness” rule. When she was diagnosed with tuberculosis, she promised a shower of roses. Let me share why this is significant.

The Society of the Little Flower writes, “Shortly after her death, the rain of roses began. Sometimes roses literally appeared, and sometimes just the fragrance of them. Cures of painful and fatal diseases and many other miraculous experiences were attributed to her intercession. Sometimes people found inner peace and regained an inner warmth of spirit and confidence, by appealing to St. Therese. Many miracles and actions of St. Therese do not involve roses. More often than not, marvelous things happen in people’s lives as they ask for her heavenly intercession. The miracles, healings and inner peace come from the trust one places in God, not from any manifestation of roses…. Roses are Therese’s signature. It is her way of whispering to those who need a sign that she has heard, and God is responding. Thousands of people have given witness to the way Therese responds to their petitions and prayers with grace and roses. The grace is more important than the roses.”

I absolutely agree that the grace is more important than the roses, but the fact that roses were every where during this novena convince me this isn’t a farce. We can argue all day about roses being popular flowers, but each day presented a rose in some form.

The night after I began the novena (around 10pm), I remember looking at my bare rose bush in my backyard and hearing my growing cynical voice whispering, “Well, that’s nice. It’ll blossom by the 9th day of the novena. That’ll be a great coincidence.”

After I had prayed the next morning very specifically for a miraculous Nana healing, I was shocked to open my door into my backyard to see three fully blossomed roses on my rose bush. I knew right away I was being listened to – and my faith grew with the petals. I continued to reach out to my closest soul friends and faithful family and I felt my optimism grow, almost dangerously. If this “miracle” wasn’t going to happen, at least I knew I had thrown myself into it. It’s literally the least I could do, with Nana being so far away and my husband’s long face right next to me.

I kept up the praying on the daily, and each day I saw roses in the most unexpected places. Then, on the last day of the novena, we received wonderful news that Nana’s torso CT is clear! The joy I still feel is more relieving than it is overwhelming. First, for obvious reasons that our prayers did something – they truly made a difference. Second, I desperately needed a reminder that God is real. I know we still have more praying to do, but this experience was enough to help remind me and Cody that God really is listening, regardless of what the majority of the world says. You just have to have a little faith.

That was the big miracle.
Here’s the little one.

Last Thursday, I asked Cody if he wanted to go for a walk with me; the weather is beginning to transition to its all-too-familiar blue-grey hue and I needed to feel like I could still go outside if I felt like it. And I felt like it.

After walking in silence for some time, I turned to Cody and asked if he wanted to run for a little while. He grinned and said he will always choose to run if I want to (despite the super nice dress shoes he had on), so I took off at a light jog. Before long, I realized he wasn’t beside me, or even right behind me, so I turned around to see what the hold-up was. He had disappeared, but I didn’t worry – he’s quite the joker. I half-expected him to be running parallel to me on the other side of the block, so I decided to keep up my jog anyway. I would surprise him.

All of a sudden, I heard jingling keys and pumping arms. I turned back and almost tripped because of the laugh that caught in my throat. He was leaping the concrete paths of people’s front lawns and landing on the cool grass, only to let it propel him farther on. I don’t know why I thought this was the funniest image I had seen in a while; maybe it reminded me of when I would run around my neighborhood and be hundreds of feet in front of my friends, feeling the adrenaline of being free. It didn’t matter that we weren’t really going anywhere – just that we were simply going.

This week, prayer made us a little wiser,
play made us 17 and 21 again,

and I swear it made me love him more.

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Year 2, Week 13: A Prayer for Family

I have to give my hubby credit. When I request a book recommendation, he takes the request very seriously. I have to wonder what exactly he considers when he narrows down his choices for me but, this time, he sent the first of the Immortal Descendants series, April White’s Marking Time to my Kindle. The book is awesome. It makes me think and wonder and imagine – and I love stories that can do that.

But this week isn’t meant to be a book review; instead, I want to share an excerpt that stood out to me as I reflect on my family.

“Can I ask you something, Miss Simpson?”
“I’ll answer what I can.”
“Why are the Families at war?”
Miss Simpson busied herself pouring the tea. “That’s an enormous question with an even bigger answer, I’m sure you realize.”
“Actually, I didn’t realize. I thought it might be simple.”
She smiled wryly. “The enormity comes from the fact that each Family will give a different version of the truth. All will be true, but like any painting, until all the colors are applied to the canvas, you’ll never be able to see the whole picture.”
I nodded. “Got it.”

Conflict in family is so difficult to witness, not even considering the stress and tension that can overcome you if you yourself are in the throes of it. One day, you’re delicately overturning a shiny mosaic vase in your hands, proud of all the pieces and marveling how, although so differently crafted, all the segments just fit. The next day, however, someone accidentally bumps into the shaky mantle (because what family can claim they’re unshakeable, really?) and the once-shiny mosaic is dulled. A piece or two have fallen out – the crack is no longer unmistakeable and the observer finds himself insecurely asking, “How long has that fissure been there?” “Could we have prevented this?” And, perhaps most commonly wondered is “Why me?”

The rough part of conflict is that both sides are wondering “Why me?” while pointing fingers in opposite directions. Self-righteousness, stubbornness and pride tend to rule supreme for as long as someone keeps throwing flames into the fire.

The question that my own faith forces me to focus on, however, is “Where can the healing begin?” Really. How naive and stupid, right? Life doesn’t work that way, Ania. Get with the times.

And yet.

I’ve also studied human nature enough (Thanks, psychology and literature!) to know that preventative maintenance is a must. So here’s my prayer for my own family – the ones who are alive and the ones who are to join it.

Prayer for Healing in Family
In its best moments,
family is the reflection of Your Love, Lord.
In its most trying moments,
family is the opportunity to show Your Mercy.
Have mercy on your earthly family, Lord,
and remind us that we belong to each other.
Let there be healing where there are experiences of
miscommunication,
mistrust,
and inevitable mistakes.
Give us the courage to embrace each other
instead of allowing the poison of anger
to destroy the roots of prosperity and hope.
Soften hearts that have been hardened
and let them move with compassion.
May divisions be healed and new life bloom
so that we can be examples for others of Your good and gracious Love.

We ask this through Jesus Christ, Our Lord.

Amen.

"Individually unique, together complete!" — “Individually unique, together complete!”