Sorry I Didn't See You

I was honored to speak with some wonderful ladies yesterday at the diocesan Council of Catholic Women about Modesty and Theology of the Body. It's hard to summarize a teaching in just an hour that Pope John Paul II devoted much of his life to sharing with us, but the main message I shared is that the secret to understanding modesty is to realize the value and dignity of ourselves and EACH and EVERY other person in the world. When we can see ourselves and in turn others as the gifts they are, we easily value and appreciate our bodies. I know I still struggle as I let sin get in the way of seeing each person as God intended. But I'm expanding today on the reality that sometimes it's not the sin of judgment or envy or comparison but busyness that I struggle with.
It's our culture's favorite word to use lately: How's your summer going? ....Busy! How's work? ....Busy!  How's life at home? ...Busy!
We seem to feel being "busy" is what we should be else we be considered "lazy". When we had three one-year-olds all we ever heard was "you must be busy!" We still hear it often with our family of 5. And I know people are affirming our sacrifice, which is a really beautiful thing. Sometimes "busyness" is inevitable, especially when it comes to the demands of a family. But sometimes we create "busyness" because we feel a need to. We run everywhere and sign up for everything and everywhere we go we tell people we are "busy" when they ask.
The problem with "busy" is that when I'm too busy I don't "see" you. I don't encounter people the way I'm intended to. When I'm taking 3 or 4 children out in public, I don't see anyone except them, because I'm completely focused on keeping them safe, getting our tasks done with the fewest amount of meltdowns and making it home with the same amount of children I left with. I often go in and out of a store without making eye contact with a single person. I MIGHT have noticed you were there, but I didn't really SEE you.
When we run from activity to activity on such tight time lines, thinking about work or a million other things on our to-do lists, we visually see a lot of people but we rarely ACTUALLY see them. To see the dignity of a person is to look in their eyes and encounter their story.
Yesterday I spent an hour telling a group of women the beautiful gift they are, and even though I wasn't accompanied by my usual baby gang, I failed to truly "see" them and learn their stories. I've become so used to "busy" that I couldn't snap out of it. And that is NOT ok with me.
A few years ago when I was interviewing someone she told me when asked about a struggle in a previous job where she cared for people: "this is going to sound bad, but when you care for people every day, you can sometimes forget that they are human." She had an incredible heart for the work that she did, and it was refreshing to hear her honesty in seeing the challenge and committing to make sure that she DID see the person she was caring for.
But the conversation came to mind as I was reflecting on dignity and the way we must be sure our children know their own value. I wonder how many times this week did I really SEE my children? How often do I answer their questions while I'm doing dishes or folding laundry without ever looking up? How often do I sit right on the floor playing with them while I'm thinking of work? How many times do I not notice the boys' missing their sister while I am busy missing her? How many times did I look in their eyes today? It should have been hundreds, it was probably only a few. And that is NOT ok with me.
I have been given this incredible gift of these beautiful eyes that show me an unconditional love like I can't even fathom. They have see my ugliest moments and they still gaze upon me like I'm holy. I feel like the most loved person on the planet when I can see their sparkle and fun and intense love all wrapped into a look. They see only the good, only the most beautiful parts of me, the way I want but don't deserve to be seen. Isn't it funny, that I wanted to look into their eyes so that they would know their value and dignity, but it is in their eyes that I have found mine? Not funny I suppose but exactly the way God intended: for it is in giving that we receive. I know that same gift is waiting for me as I slow down and encounter others that God is placing on my journey.
Praying I SEE you soon!

It's Going to be OK

Two months ago, I was driving to my son's preschool conferences towards the end of his school year when something caught my eye. There on the side of the road was a picture of Jesus, put out on the curb for the city-wide clean up, or "junk days" as we call it. City residents can "spring clean" and set large amounts of garbage on the curb for the city to haul away. You can imagine this didn't sit well with me that someone had put a picture of Jesus to be thrown away. I made a mental note of it's location and planned to "rescue" it on the way home from the conference. I wasn't in need of another picture of Jesus, but I couldn't allow it to be treated disrespectfully.


After the conference, Nathaniel and I got in the van and I told him we'd be pulling over to pick up a picture because "Jesus isn't junk". I was in a hurry, needing to get home in time for my babysitter to leave on time. I grabbed the photo not thinking anything of it, but the second my hand touched the   photo I was overwhelmed by the smell of lilacs, stronger than I had ever smelled them. I looked around and there were no lilac bushes close by, the smell seemed to be coming from the photo, and I knew in that instant that St. Therese had sent the heavenly smell. I carried the photo to the car and set it next to me and I knew God was saying "everything is going to be ok."


You see, we had gotten news recently that our girls were going to be transitioning to live with their bio-parents. I was worried about them. I was worried about the effect on our family of losing them. I was wondering what God's plan was and if He really was in control or if the evil in the world was winning this round. And I had been reading the story of St. Therese the Little Flower and knew of her habit of sending flowers or the smell of flowers to people in answer to their prayers. Except I never expected to be one of those recipients. I never imagined that a small insignificant person like me could matter in heaven. I know it sounds silly to say that but even though I believe it about others, its hard to feel that important myself.


So here's the thing, I totally understand if I've lost you because you rarely believe in "stuff like this" because honestly, I'm one of those people. I'm not quick to believe the stories of others "feelings" or miracles they believe happened. I tend to need to experience things for myself and rarely rely on the experiences of others. Except that, while we are usually skeptical of those types of stories, deep down we really WANT to believe them. We want to believe that the Holy Spirit is still alive and working in the world. We want to believe that each of us tiny ants and what's happening in our lives really do matter to God.  But if we believe that some people have had these encounters, miracles, etc, then it also puts our faith to the test as we immediately question "why has God reached out to this person and not to me?"


I have been in that position a hundred times, wondering why God saved someone's baby, but not mine. Wondering why he spoke so clearly to someone else, but left my question unanswered for years. Wondering why some are blessed so greatly and others suffer so much.


As I've become a parent I have learned the answer to these questions.  God is the greatest parent of all, and he knows what all parents come to know: we stop trying to be "fair" to our children by giving to them all equally, and instead we give them what they need. I heard a parent say this long before I had children and I disagreed. We have this desire in us for everything to be fair. Except our parents, and our amazing God know that what is good for one child will not help another. This is hard to understand for our children and for us "big kids" who are still keeping score of who got what. But when we remember how much our God loves us, how can we doubt that he knows what is best for us? And when we remember that we were made for eternity and not this earth, we can appreciate the work He is doing here to mold us and change our hearts, especially when it comes in the form of sacrifice.


I was reading "The Story of a Soul" by St. Therese shortly after we had gotten the news of our girls leaving, wondering where God was in all of it. And I came across " Do you believe that though your prayers are really not heard on earth, though Jesus separates the child from its mother for a few days, that these prayers will be answered in heaven?"


When we lose sight of heaven, something as terrible as losing a child seems unbearable. But when we have faith like St. Therese to know that truly it is only a "few days" in the realm of eternity that we will be separated then we can do it for Him if He asks it of us. We can have hope in the confidence of knowing that someday we will all be together in heaven and nothing will ever separate us.
St. Therese goes on to say in writing to her mother superior "your desire, I know is that I carry out at your side a very sweet and easy mission; but shall I not be able to finish it from the heights of heaven?" If you are interested, go read more about St. Therese and the many miracles accredited to her as she continues to bring souls to Jesus, a work she began at the young age of 15 and continues to carry out long after her time on this earth was done.

So, to finish the story: I got home with the picture and brought it inside. On closer look, the painting is a depiction of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. I've heard of it, but wasn't very familiar with the history of the devotion. I started to read a little about it and then got pulled away from the article. I needed to schedule an appointment for B, the last one she would have with me and her bio-parents before leaving me. As was on the phone rescheduling, the only date they were able to get us in was the girl's very last day with us. So I began writing the appointment on the calendar right underneath where I had written "girls return home". But then I saw it, right below where I was writing the appointment there was bold lettering on my Catholic Calendar that said that day of June 3rd was the Feast of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. I knew in that moment He was reminding me that He sees me, that He is in control. I know He knows exactly what He is doing and that "it's all going to be ok."


I started praying the Novena to the Sacred Heart leading up to the feast day, praying for God's will for the girls and our family. A week later, we got news that B won't be returning home and that we may get to adopt her. This is difficult news to process and share because it's incredibly joyful, and the news that her sister is still leaving us is incredibly hard. Yesterday it rained off and on quite a bit of the day and at one point it was sprinkling while the sun was shining. Nathaniel said "it can't be raining while the sun is out!" And I quickly corrected him and said "It can! Then we can see rainbows!" And I knew I was being reminded as I struggle with this odd place of sadness and happiness that its possible to be both at the same time.


We visited M with her birth parents at a park last weekend, and my heart wrestled with the joy of being with her and the hurt of not being able to take her home and seeing her with another mom. But as I wrestled with this place, I knew heaven was just a few days away, where we will all be together, we can all love M and each other and not from separate homes.  Until then I can learn to love more like the Sacred Heart of Jesus, who experiences great joys and great sorrows, always at the same time.

It's not exactly how I would have envisioned my prayers being answered. But He didn't say "I'll give you everything you want" but that "everything would be ok." And that's all I really NEED.


Thank you God that you love me enough to give me what I need. Help me trust you, especially on days when I let worry creep in and steal my joy. It's all going to be ok, it's just a few days anyway.