The Wicked Witch of the West

Just a quick post to talk about the insight the Lord gave me today.

As you can see from the post below, we had snow. As all of you who live with snow on a regular basis know, that means that I spent the day getting kids dressed, undressed, cleaning the floor, drying wet coats/mittens/hats/etc.

It was a demanding day, and I just wasn't in the mood for it.

After snapping at the kids all (early!) morning long, I turned to the Lord in tears over my kitchen sink and said, "You have GOT to shower me with Your grace today, or I am just going to tear them up with my words and my attitudes."

Please tell me I'm not the only mom who feels this way!

So, after shuttling them outside for yet another winter wonderland go-round, I picked up THE WORD AMONG US from my kitchen counter and started reading the articles (since, of course, we're in a new book now. Happy February, everyone!)

As I was reading this article, I was struck by the whole idea of "presenting our bodies as living sacrifices." Of course, a sacrifice by its very definition is something that is worth much and, basically, not easy for one to offer up.

I know it's not a "new thought" by any stretch of the imagination, since we daily are to offer to the Lord our "works, joys, and sufferings of this day," but it just hit me so profoundly that THIS is how I could worship Him today. Smiling at my children when I really felt like screaming... taking that moment to pause and answer my children graciously, when a snappy answer was waiting on my tongue... taking in the myriad of requests without freaking out and sighing, "I'm just one person here, people!"... and going the extra mile to serve them cheerfully.

With every step, by His grace, I was able to say, "all for You, Lord... this is for You, Lord... Lord Jesus, I am serving You by taking off Kathryn's muddy boots... I offer You this book that Marie is asking me to read, when I've got a mountain of laundry that really needs my attention..."

My day was not easy... not by a long shot... but it brought tears to my eyes to know that, with every step, He was there with me, and the choices that His grace enabled me to make were pleasing to Him, and that I was truly able to worship Him here in my kitchen, amidst the mud, slush, and noise.

Grand slam in the readings today!!

Wow! Two of my favorite readings on the the same day!

The Gospel reading today is from Mark -- the story of the woman who reached out and touched the hem of Jesus' robe. When I first read St. Ignatius' Spiritual Exercises (or, let me say, a *portion* of it) in college I was intrigued by the idea of entering into the Gospel stories as a way of making them come alive. This happened to be the first passage that I chose, and I can still remember the whole experience: the feelings of despair as she spent her last bit of money on yet another doctor who could do nothing for her... trudging down the alleyway feeling alone, abandonned and forgotten by God... and then turning the corner and seeing a crowd of people shouting and clamoring to see... Someone. She asked a person on the fringes of the crowd what was going on, and heard that Jesus was there.

I imagined what it would be like to push my way through the loud, jostling, (sweaty? ewww) crowd, all crying out for Jesus to heal them... she couldn't quite make her way to Jesus, but every now and then she was able to catch just a glimpse of His robe. I imagined the faith she had, believing that if she just managed to swipe her fingers along the hem of His robe, that would be all that was needed, and her desire to remain small and hidden... so she made a desperate push, reached out, and just barely touched His robe.

BAM! She knew instantly she was healed.

I pictured myself thrilled, rejoicing that I was healed, and then being content to stop walking and just let the crowd move on past me... and then the crowd stops. Everyone starts murmuring something, but I'm too happy with what has just happened to really care... until I hear Him say, "Who touched Me?"...

Anyone who has EVER been called to the front of the class by a teacher because of some infraction knows the feeling: the cold, sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, the prickly feeling on the back of your neck, and the knowledge that this is NOT going to go away until you step forward and "fess up."

I imagined how terrified she must have felt, as all eyes were on her, approaching Jesus. Would He be angry? Obviously, she thought He would be, because she falls on her face before Him and spills out the whole story in an attempt to explain why she did what she did.

What thrills me the most is that He would not let her remain a "nobody." She wanted to remain small and hidden, have her little private miracle, and go home. She wanted to lose herself in the sea of humanity crowding around Jesus because she didn't feel like she deserved a hearing.

Jesus noticed her. She was not a "nobody" to Him. He drew her out to commend her for her faith, and to give her the one-on-one experience with God that she didn't think she was allowed to have.

He notices each one of us.

I am not just another one of the billions of people clamoring for His attention today.

He sees me, and knows me by name.

[and as an extra bonus for moms of little ones, He **KNOWS** what it's like to be jostled, crowded, and besieged from all sides by everyone who thinks that his need is the most pressing at that moment. That comforts me in our most hectic moments here at Chez Ouiz]



The second reading -- from Hebrews -- is another biggie for me. Hebrews 12:1-4

"Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us rid ourselves of every burden and sin that clings to us and persevere in running the race that lies before us while keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus, the leader and perfecter of faith. For the sake of the joy that lay before him he endured the cross, despising its shame, and has taken his seat at the right of the throne of God. Consider how he endured such opposition from sinners, in order that you may not grow weary and lose heart. In your struggle against sin you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding blood."

There are so many things to focus on in this passage for me, but my favorites are:

"we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses" -- the saints and angels are watching us, cheering us on and praying for us [something I need to meditate on a LOT more often]... and

"keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus, the leader and perfecter of faith." The NIV translation that I'm used to says, "let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith." Everytime I read this I tend to make it more personal -- He's the author and perfecter of MY faith. He's the one that started this whole thing in my life, and if He doesn't continue to work in me then I am sunk.

Wow. It's not very often that I get such a grand slam of readings, but I'm thrilled that it happened today!

Does God want us to be prosperous?

Et Tu, Jen offers a wonderful post on wealth, and whether or not God wants us to be prosperous. I think the commments -- especially the first ones from Martin, who quotes from various encyclicals, are well worth reading.

I will admit that I have thought about this question long and hard as well. As many of you know, we live in a house that is rather small by American standards. When you put 8 people into it, it's mighty... um... cozy, at times.

I fluctuate between being so grateful for this nice house (and it really is nice!), and crying out to God in frustration because we are just running out of room (in my opinion). How much *is* too much? Is there a "set point" where a family can say, "OK, this is all that we need. To go beyond this is wasteful."

I feel incredibly guilty for even wanting a bigger house when I think of how people around the globe are living... or even how the Ingall's family lived. I also feel INCREDIBLY guilty for whining about lack of space, when there are those out there who desperately want a large family, but are unable to.

So I do try to be thankful -- I really, really do.

But then, on the flip side, I don't live in those areas, or during that earlier time period, and infertility is not the particular cross I have been called to bear. I live here -- in America, in the 21st century, in a large family. How am I, as a Christian woman in this particular culture, called to live? My husband and I have, as our primary responsibility, the care and education of our children. How are we to provide for them? Not in terms of how many toys or gadgets they get to accumulate, but in basic quality of life.

We are called to almsgiving. How much of our time, resources, etc. are to be devoted to taking care of our children, and when do we start taking care of those in need around us? How much can we responsibly put aside to take care of our family, and when does it become mere hoarding?

All questions that I can't answer.

I assume that the Lord leads each one of us, and calls us all to different levels. For St. Francis, He called him to radical poverty. To others (like this beautiful couple at our parish) He calls them to be generous in their wealth (and they are. They have a gorgeous, very large home in a prosperous community, and they told God that they would build it to serve His people. They take in ANYONE who has need, and offer hospitality in a way I've never seen done before. Their entire house is built in such a way that they can accommodate, serve, and even entertain any that God would send their way. It is breathtaking to see. They, as a couple, live quite simply, even though their home seems so impressive.) I hope that, as we seek to follow Jesus, He would let us know when we had "enough," and when we were just being greedy and selfish.

My thoughts for the morning as I prepare for another day of laundry and homeschooling!