Sacrifice is an everyday reality for me, like most moms. We sacrifice our bodies, our intellectual pursuits, our careers, our leisure time, our privacy.... All these sacrifices leave us with less of certain things, in exchange for the rewards of happy, healthy children and marriages. Would we change much? Probably not.
I have to admit, though, that I have moments of selfishness when I want to scream "MINE!" and grasp frantically to hold on to a few moments alone in the bathroom, or with a book, or a meal, or coffee, hot to the bottom of the cup.
In this selfishness is a certain amount of desperation -- of hunger. It stirs a cry of longing, and in that longing, I am focused on my lack -- lack of time, lack of resources, lack of freedom, lack of devotion and prayer. In that longing, the last thing I am thinking about is greater sacrifice!
My previous post was about the power of praise to transform circumstances. How much more sacrificial praise!
I was in the chapel recently, in the depths of one of these "cries of longing." Okay, I admit it. I was whining. But in the corner of my mind came the smallest whisper: "Sacrifice of praise". It was a phrase used so lightly in my upbringing -- it really had very little meaning for me beyond its use in a rather up-tempo praise chorus we used to sing. But there, before that altar, in the presence of Christ, I began to read aloud psalms of praise -- psalms that acknowledged God for his attributes and exhorted others to do the same. I didn't feel like praising. It was truly a sacrifice to lift my voice just then. But as I did, something amazing began to happen: a transformation of my perspective. My circumstances didn't change. My needs didn't change. My attitude, however, did. There, before that altar, I acclaimed aloud that He is holy, He is worthy, He is the joy of my salvation, He is able.
I acclaimed Christ as King, and in my acclamation I found peace. I found rest for my soul. I found myself able to return home and face the day in gratitude for the many blessings I have been given.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
Monday, November 3, 2008
Bloom Where You Are!
How often do you see a movie or TV show, or read something that you've seen or read countless times before, and suddenly see it in a way you never have? How often have you said "I can't believe I missed that!"? So this is how my day began...
I was reading morning prayer, and one of the selections in the psalter for today was Psalm 84. I have been through the psalter many times - it's a four week cycle. I have read the Psalms through more times than I can remember. Somehow, though, this particular passage has always just skimmed past my eyes; I never really saw it until today.
"Even the sparrow has found a home, and the swallow a nest for herself where she may have her young - a place near your altar."
Now, as a "nesting bird" of sorts, this tickled my awareness. What better place to care for my young than near the altar of the Lord? As I've considered this further, maybe I have less need to feel out-of-sorts in church with my children. This reassures me that doing "mom stuff" that addresses my children's immediate needs and helps to direct their attention to Jesus and His unique presence at Mass really is okay, after all. (You too, Mrs. J.L.!)
Ah, yes...my original point.
"Blessed are those who dwell in your house; they are ever praising you. Blessed are those whose strength is in you, who have their hearts set on pilgrimage. As they pass through the Valley of Baca (translates to "weeping"), they make it a place of springs; they go from strength to strength, till each appears before God in Zion."
What admonition! What encouragement! What simple direction!
Praise is, for lack of a better term, magic. It turns the driest, bitterest valleys we pass through on this pilgrim journey into places of springs, where we may find strength and refreshment - strength that carries us until we see Him in Zion.
I was reading morning prayer, and one of the selections in the psalter for today was Psalm 84. I have been through the psalter many times - it's a four week cycle. I have read the Psalms through more times than I can remember. Somehow, though, this particular passage has always just skimmed past my eyes; I never really saw it until today.
"Even the sparrow has found a home, and the swallow a nest for herself where she may have her young - a place near your altar."
Now, as a "nesting bird" of sorts, this tickled my awareness. What better place to care for my young than near the altar of the Lord? As I've considered this further, maybe I have less need to feel out-of-sorts in church with my children. This reassures me that doing "mom stuff" that addresses my children's immediate needs and helps to direct their attention to Jesus and His unique presence at Mass really is okay, after all. (You too, Mrs. J.L.!)
Ah, yes...my original point.
"Blessed are those who dwell in your house; they are ever praising you. Blessed are those whose strength is in you, who have their hearts set on pilgrimage. As they pass through the Valley of Baca (translates to "weeping"), they make it a place of springs; they go from strength to strength, till each appears before God in Zion."
What admonition! What encouragement! What simple direction!
Praise is, for lack of a better term, magic. It turns the driest, bitterest valleys we pass through on this pilgrim journey into places of springs, where we may find strength and refreshment - strength that carries us until we see Him in Zion.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Afternoon delight
(October 4, 2008)
Ah, children. As I write this, I am watching a mess o' kids in a McDonalds playland. The dynamics are fascinating to me. It's lunchtime on a Thursday, so the kids are all toddlers and preschoolers. A microcosm of their demographic, they're all finding their places and making their ways in the pack, as it were.
There's my preschooler, talking big and tough, challenging other kids at every turn. He's almost always outrun, outjumped, and outdone at home, where he's the fourth in line. And there's the kid who just punched him in the head for pushing him out of the way and beating him to the steering wheel.
There's my toddler, following around and petting another little guy who's about his size, but probably six months younger.
There is a veritable gaggle of little girls, squealing in ways that only little girls can, and the one who'd rather play with the boys, I think, but is instead wailing piteously. You'd be inclined to worry, but there's not a tear in her eyes and she's continuing to play on the fringe, waiting to see which grownup will come to her rescue.
There are moms who are oblivious to the activity on the playset, and there are those following their little darlings to catch them before they land on their well padded backsides.
There's the nubile walker who insists on keeping up with the big kids, and the kid who's pushing four but still running around with a pacifier and blankie.
In this world of ketchup-eaters and slide-climbers, there is no notion of crises, impending legislation, or global tension. For them, there are french fries and ice cream cones, tunnels and slides, and any slight of etiquette or aggression will be forgotten before bedtime. The kids will figure out how to be and how to go forward because there are grownups to show them the way until they can do it on their own. I wish that I could feel that sense of freedom sometimes: to live in the moment, and leave the bigger picture to the bigger people. But I am one of the "big people" now, and the task of looking forward and back to understand the significance of this moment lies with me. Lord, grant me eyes to see, ears to hear, and a childlike spirit to trust you for the rest...and eat ketchup.
Ah, children. As I write this, I am watching a mess o' kids in a McDonalds playland. The dynamics are fascinating to me. It's lunchtime on a Thursday, so the kids are all toddlers and preschoolers. A microcosm of their demographic, they're all finding their places and making their ways in the pack, as it were.
There's my preschooler, talking big and tough, challenging other kids at every turn. He's almost always outrun, outjumped, and outdone at home, where he's the fourth in line. And there's the kid who just punched him in the head for pushing him out of the way and beating him to the steering wheel.
There's my toddler, following around and petting another little guy who's about his size, but probably six months younger.
There is a veritable gaggle of little girls, squealing in ways that only little girls can, and the one who'd rather play with the boys, I think, but is instead wailing piteously. You'd be inclined to worry, but there's not a tear in her eyes and she's continuing to play on the fringe, waiting to see which grownup will come to her rescue.
There are moms who are oblivious to the activity on the playset, and there are those following their little darlings to catch them before they land on their well padded backsides.
There's the nubile walker who insists on keeping up with the big kids, and the kid who's pushing four but still running around with a pacifier and blankie.
In this world of ketchup-eaters and slide-climbers, there is no notion of crises, impending legislation, or global tension. For them, there are french fries and ice cream cones, tunnels and slides, and any slight of etiquette or aggression will be forgotten before bedtime. The kids will figure out how to be and how to go forward because there are grownups to show them the way until they can do it on their own. I wish that I could feel that sense of freedom sometimes: to live in the moment, and leave the bigger picture to the bigger people. But I am one of the "big people" now, and the task of looking forward and back to understand the significance of this moment lies with me. Lord, grant me eyes to see, ears to hear, and a childlike spirit to trust you for the rest...and eat ketchup.
I got tagged...
Marva, I'm sorry you had to find out, but yes, I'm slower than molasses in January about this stuff. I had to think of quirks I was willing to air publicly, and then think of at least a couple of bloggers who'd play along. (Most of the blogs I read are of a more professional, specialized variety.)
Here's how to play.
1. Link to person who tagged you.
2. Post the rules on your blog.
3. List six unspectacular quirks you have.
4. Tag 6 bloggers by linking them.
5. Leave a comment on taggee's blog to let them know they have been tagged.
So here we go:
1. When I do dishes, I do my pots and pans first.
2. I have a "thing" for ugly socks...they're my favorites!
3. I make most of the bread we use at our house.
4. I pour the cream into my coffee cup first, then the coffee, so I don't have to dirty a spoon.
5. If I don't look like a lobster when I get out of the shower, it wasn't hot enough.
6. I get weepy with very little provocation. Hallmark commercials, movies, episodes of Full House -- you name it, it will probably make me cry if you catch me at the right moment.
JRH
The Semiotician's Lair
Here's how to play.
1. Link to person who tagged you.
2. Post the rules on your blog.
3. List six unspectacular quirks you have.
4. Tag 6 bloggers by linking them.
5. Leave a comment on taggee's blog to let them know they have been tagged.
So here we go:
1. When I do dishes, I do my pots and pans first.
2. I have a "thing" for ugly socks...they're my favorites!
3. I make most of the bread we use at our house.
4. I pour the cream into my coffee cup first, then the coffee, so I don't have to dirty a spoon.
5. If I don't look like a lobster when I get out of the shower, it wasn't hot enough.
6. I get weepy with very little provocation. Hallmark commercials, movies, episodes of Full House -- you name it, it will probably make me cry if you catch me at the right moment.
JRH
The Semiotician's Lair
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Still here...
does this blogger ever plan to post a new article? Where are you, Ms. Redsocks?
I have to say, I was more than a little flattered to find this comment on my last post. Anonymous, thanks! And I'm sorry it's been so long. The simple fact of the matter is that this blogger is rather thoughtful, and her goal in blogging is to share her thoughts in way that inspires thought and gives a true picture of what's rattling around in this little head. Of late, there's been precious little rattling around in here that isn't bound to the crisis of the moment. The day-to-day things of my "real" world are drawing all of my attention and energy, and none of them really seem to be blogworthy. There are the routine struggles of keeping up with the general activity of our home and family. We've had viruses come through: a respiratory one, followed immediately by a tummy one (which, by the way, is going to keep at least 2 of the little darlings home from school tomorrow). For some reason or another, Mr. Redsocks' schedule seems more difficult to work around this year, so that's keeping me jumping. In short, my life is kicking my butt! So, besides "Boo-hoo, I'm tired, I'm stressed, my brain is oatmeal," what's there to say? And who'd care, anyway?
Seriously, though, I haven't been intellectually idle. I have a couple of posts begun; I just haven't been able to bring them around to where they'd make sense outside of my head. I'm still going to the chapel every week (almost...Mr. Redsocks goes sometimes, too) and finding my mind drawn to meditate where my heart is most needful. It's beginning to come clear, but it takes a while to find the quiet and actually apply the words I need to share it all. So stay tuned...I'm still here, and delighted that you are, too!
I have to say, I was more than a little flattered to find this comment on my last post. Anonymous, thanks! And I'm sorry it's been so long. The simple fact of the matter is that this blogger is rather thoughtful, and her goal in blogging is to share her thoughts in way that inspires thought and gives a true picture of what's rattling around in this little head. Of late, there's been precious little rattling around in here that isn't bound to the crisis of the moment. The day-to-day things of my "real" world are drawing all of my attention and energy, and none of them really seem to be blogworthy. There are the routine struggles of keeping up with the general activity of our home and family. We've had viruses come through: a respiratory one, followed immediately by a tummy one (which, by the way, is going to keep at least 2 of the little darlings home from school tomorrow). For some reason or another, Mr. Redsocks' schedule seems more difficult to work around this year, so that's keeping me jumping. In short, my life is kicking my butt! So, besides "Boo-hoo, I'm tired, I'm stressed, my brain is oatmeal," what's there to say? And who'd care, anyway?
Seriously, though, I haven't been intellectually idle. I have a couple of posts begun; I just haven't been able to bring them around to where they'd make sense outside of my head. I'm still going to the chapel every week (almost...Mr. Redsocks goes sometimes, too) and finding my mind drawn to meditate where my heart is most needful. It's beginning to come clear, but it takes a while to find the quiet and actually apply the words I need to share it all. So stay tuned...I'm still here, and delighted that you are, too!
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
NOT one of those days
You know those days when you feel the warmth of God's presence in the simplest things? When your smile is ready and your heart is full of gratitude? When little things don't seem to bother you because God is in His heaven and all is right with the world? Today is not one of those days.
Today is one of those days when I simply know he is there because he said so. Not because I can see him or hear him or feel him, but because he said so. I am tired -- demands of motherhood, an irritating cough left over from last week's sick day, and more chores than I want to admit undone and awaiting my attention -- these things are taking their toll on me.
Today is one of those days that I have to consciously remind myself of blessings in my world. Today is one of those days when I have to fight the urge to throw my hands up in frustration and let the chips fall where they may. Today is one of those days when I have to make a deliberate effort to speak with a bridled tongue. Today has begun far earlier than I intended. Today is full of chores to do, people to receive, and errands to run. Today will not end until the sun has long gone.
Today is a new day, new with promise and mercy. I choose today. I cast my choice on an ever-faithful God. I choose faith. My choices are few, but today, I choose Him.
Today is one of those days when I simply know he is there because he said so. Not because I can see him or hear him or feel him, but because he said so. I am tired -- demands of motherhood, an irritating cough left over from last week's sick day, and more chores than I want to admit undone and awaiting my attention -- these things are taking their toll on me.
Today is one of those days that I have to consciously remind myself of blessings in my world. Today is one of those days when I have to fight the urge to throw my hands up in frustration and let the chips fall where they may. Today is one of those days when I have to make a deliberate effort to speak with a bridled tongue. Today has begun far earlier than I intended. Today is full of chores to do, people to receive, and errands to run. Today will not end until the sun has long gone.
Today is a new day, new with promise and mercy. I choose today. I cast my choice on an ever-faithful God. I choose faith. My choices are few, but today, I choose Him.
Friday, September 5, 2008
Lord, Hear the Cry of My Heart
In the morning, when I rise and reach out to you before the day's work calls
Lord, hear the cry of my heart!
When I rise and rush into the day with hardly a glance toward heaven
Lord, hear the cry of my heart!
When grace bridles my tongue with gentle words
Lord, hear the cry of my heart!
When that restless evil leaves its poisonous sting
Lord, hear the cry of my heart!
When humility guides my steps alongside the man I love
Lord, hear the cry of my heart!
When arrogance or wounded pride stirs a disrespectful spirit within me
Lord, hear the cry of my heart!
When a song of praise rests on my lips
Lord, hear the cry of my heart!
When ingratitude turns my eyes from the abundance of your kingdom
Lord, hear the cry of my heart!
When my arms are strong for my tasks and my hands are diligent
Lord, hear the cry of my heart!
When discouragement or indolence reduces me to idleness
Lord, hear the cry of my heart!
When uprightness and integrity light my way and guide me
Lord, hear the cry of my heart!
When fear for earthly needs keep me from trusting in the God of my youth
Lord, hear the cry of my heart!
Hear the cry of my heart! O my God!
And close the chasm
Bring the cry of my heart and the work of my hands into one accord
To walk hand in hand the path of righteousness
To lead me home
To where the cry of my heart will ever be "Holy!"
And the work of my hands will be only to worship you
Hear the cry of my heart!
Lord, hear the cry of my heart!
When I rise and rush into the day with hardly a glance toward heaven
Lord, hear the cry of my heart!
When grace bridles my tongue with gentle words
Lord, hear the cry of my heart!
When that restless evil leaves its poisonous sting
Lord, hear the cry of my heart!
When humility guides my steps alongside the man I love
Lord, hear the cry of my heart!
When arrogance or wounded pride stirs a disrespectful spirit within me
Lord, hear the cry of my heart!
When a song of praise rests on my lips
Lord, hear the cry of my heart!
When ingratitude turns my eyes from the abundance of your kingdom
Lord, hear the cry of my heart!
When my arms are strong for my tasks and my hands are diligent
Lord, hear the cry of my heart!
When discouragement or indolence reduces me to idleness
Lord, hear the cry of my heart!
When uprightness and integrity light my way and guide me
Lord, hear the cry of my heart!
When fear for earthly needs keep me from trusting in the God of my youth
Lord, hear the cry of my heart!
Hear the cry of my heart! O my God!
And close the chasm
Bring the cry of my heart and the work of my hands into one accord
To walk hand in hand the path of righteousness
To lead me home
To where the cry of my heart will ever be "Holy!"
And the work of my hands will be only to worship you
Hear the cry of my heart!
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