Why I’m NOT giving up anything for Lent.

Ok, don’t throw stones. Remember Lent is a time to grow in the love and peace of Christ.

I’ve spent a great amount of time praying and reflecting and what my Lenten sacrifices would be this year. In the process, I found even the exercise was not exciting me about a time for spiritual growth, but adding to my already large amount of anxiety about our current state in life.

This is not what the liturgical season is about. In the past I’ve attempted (with varying degrees of success) several difficult Lenten sacrifices and tasks. I never was one to give up sweats or something else I would simply count down the 40 days until I could partake in again. Instead, I have always seen the season as a time to attempt to change something about myself - be it a bad habit or an unhealthy mental reaction I’d fallen into regarding certain people or situations. A wise spiritual advisor had recommended giving up or adding something so difficult that only with the aid of God Himself I would have a chance of succeeding. Either way, when Christ arrives resurrected with Easter, I am marveling at the power of God in my life. I have either changed something about myself for good, or I have learned a valuable lesson about how fallen I am and how much I need Christ.

The truth is, this year, giving something up or adding something big is just too much for my already full plate. Our life is Lent right now. I’m not complaining. In fact the parallels between the Lenten season and our struggles right now are not lost on me. I am thankful my personal life is coinciding with the Liturgical year as over the last year the seasons of my life did not coincide with those of the Church and it left me feeling slightly separate from the community of believers.

Every possible life situation that could be up in the air right now for our family is. I know nothing about what our life will be in 2 months. The only thing I know is that we are having a baby. Joseph is working on his graduate thesis and we are hoping he will graduate the week after Easter. With his graduation comes the loss of his job (he works as a graduate assistant at the University), and thus the loss of our insurance. We had Joseph complete this master’s degree with the hopes of him getting a state/university job. That hope is currently lost/up in the air as we live in Wisconsin. If you don’t know what’s happening with the fighting over these issues in Wisconsin you must be living under a rock. Regardless of if we agree or not, the state is not currently hiring as its fate is up in the air.

Joseph is currently working so hard to finish his thesis and apply for jobs. I’ve put the purchase of anything and everything on hold in case there are months of unemployment. This means our van is still unfixed and I am going on 7 months of not having a vehicle. We also thought we would be moved by now as we thought we would know where he will be working and where we will be living. But that is up in the air as well and I am trying to make space in a 2 bedroom condo for a family of 5 because we will now be bringing home baby to what I call a “cracker box.”

Because of the insurance issue, Joseph will have his yearly heart appointments and our new baby will have her genetic tests the first week in May before our insurance runs out. I pray the baby comes in time and that Joseph’s health is holding strong, I can’t think of the alternatives – mentally or logistically.

These stresses have become a bit overwhelming for a really pregnant me. I know the emotions of pregnancy are to blame, but it’s become a lot to have on my plate. Joseph is really busy trying to finish school and take care of all of these things. The long winter, very small living space with no vehicle to go anywhere and the stress has gotten to me and I don’t think I’m my best self right now.

So, I won’t be giving anything up for Lent. Instead, I’ll try to best see the blessings in our life, look forward to the arrival of our third daughter and NOT let the anxiety and stress of everything else get to me as I have been allowing it to. So, my life is my Lent this year!

I do want to hold myself accountable, but also don’t want to be too hard on myself or deny my emotions. I am 32 weeks pregnant after all and the things on my plate are real concerns for our family. So, I’ll attempt to handle them in the most holy way I can and support Joseph is doing the same.

I do feel as though I may need a substitute for the fasting. Due to medical reasons for both of us, Joseph and I are not required nor could we uphold the fasting requirements of Lent. And, since our children are too young I don’t think I’ll focus on them in our home. Maybe I’ll attempt a cleaner kitchen. It is something I struggle with and food related.

This is the biggest Lent of my life; God has obviously set the stage for it to be. I’m not giving up a thing. I’ll just deal with life. Doing so with grace will be a huge success for me. And, it’s truly only possible with God at this point!

A blessed and peaceful Lent to you all!

PS – I joined the Lent Prayer Buddies this year! Prayer buddy, welcome! I’m so sorry you got me, you’ve got a lot of work cut out for you this Lent. Although I don’t know your name, please know I have already added you to my prayer list as well.


Clearly Anna Clare isn't worried. I need to take lesson from my soon to be middle child!



A Mother's Birth

This is a birth announcement – of sorts.

Here in lies no measurement of weight or inches. There is no baby name to share, no blue booties or pink bows. Instead, I have a birth story. It is my own and it’s still in progress. I’m becoming a mother this week!

This birth story begins with a mother’s confession: I have not been well. Uncertainty and worry have set up permanent camp in my mind with real fear of spreading to my heart. Everyone knows a disease that spreads is almost always deadly. I have been paralyzed with worry and self-pity. The events of our recent past (ok, our whole 3 year marriage) have started catching up with me. There is one event in particular that haunts me and mocks me with its reality so much so I have started to consider the possibility of Post Traumatic Stress.

With the girls’ blood samples sent off to the lab and another challenge all but imminent – I started to, well, lose it. I’d go to bed and wake up 2 hours later just to worry the rest of the night away with worry for the girls, for Joseph, and for how I would handle the next thing. I’d ask myself how I could possibly deal with any more, and then wonder why I wasn’t stronger, holier.

I finally let myself hear the voices of all our friends, family and acquaintances, “I don’t know how you do it, I can’t image living your life, I just can’t image.”

You can’t image because you’re not supposed to. I can’t image and it’s my life. When we image how we would react or make it through a certain challenging situation, we cast ourselves as the staring player. We forget that we are fallen. But, we are separate from God! Therefore we cannot image or attempt to predict the role He plays in the events of our lives. He gives us the grace only at the moment when we need it. He’s perfect like that – and we are to trust in His perfectness.

To be honest, the “I can’t image” comments really bug me. I know it's just people showing their love and concern and I hold nothing against anyone who has ever muttered these words to me. But, it makes me feel a lot of pressure to be strong. Nothing puts pressure on a person to keep it together more than praise over how well you are keeping it together. For me, the pressure makes me withdraw a bit from my friends because the only way to really share myself is to share how I struggle, and I can’t do that when I am “keeping it together.”

For this reason I am widely and inappropriately honest about myself and my life on this blog. That is out of character for me. I’m actually not a sharer at all. But, here I am, emotionally naked for my friends, family and strangers to read! It’s my lifeline and I’ve decided not to apologize for it or for any of the “God talk” it brings. I don’t usually do a lot of “God talking”.

When health problems are always lurking in the shadows of your family life, the devil lives in the “what if’s” and worry parts of your heart. There are real things we must prepare for and these things have dictated every major decision we have made. However, responsibility and preparation can easily take an ugly turn into unneeded anxiety.

When this happens, my friend Krissy tends to remind me that, “These are problems for future Holly.”

I then remind us both that, “Future Holly sure has a lot of issues. It’s a really good thing I’m not her!”

When I do become future Holly, I trust I’ll have the grace to be her. God will fill the voids in me and seal the cracks in the foundation of my trust and faith. So, no, I can’t image some of the past events of my own life. There must not be a need for me to, as I currently don’t have the graces to do so. This is the blessing of our life!

As we approached this Lenten season, I prayed about what I should give up and what I should add to my spiritual life. This year it was a difficult prayer for the first time. I eventually came to realize why. I have been sanctified by a rare blessing. I don’t have to suffer the pressures of defining and discerning what our sacrifices should be or what cross it is we are bearing. We have clearly been told what our limitations and struggles are. Many wander for years, painfully trying to discern and define what it is God is calling them to. What a gift our family has been given! We are to turn to Him for comfort and the strength to take up our cross, and praise Him for reveling Himself to us in such a definitive way! So, this Lent I am not making any additional sacrifices. Instead, I am working on carrying the crosses I already have in a better way, with poise and in thanksgiving.

I trust this was the perfect Lenten journey for me because God has granted me the grace to live this time in thanksgiving. This time, His grace came in the form of 2 very precious ladies - and I am their renewed mommy.

This Thursday a string of unforeseeable events created an unheard of situation. My Joseph and I were out to lunch on a date! As we sat, sans children, the call came. Joseph’s specialist was calling with the girls’ genetic test results. There, behind the voice of an awfully serious Dr. were these words,

“Both tests came back negative. Both Teresa and Anna are negative for the Loeys Dietz gene.”

The method of delivery didn’t seem to match the words that were being delivered. In turn, I had nothing to say. I think I eventually and very calmly told the Dr. I thought I was going to cry. He then went into explaining some more tests Joseph needs to set up and I passed the phone across the table to my husband like it was a hot potato.

Then I cried. I cried and carried on like a baby in the middle of Applebee’s in the middle of the afternoon. I cried with no regard for a public place. I cried like only a mother cries in a delivery room. And then I cried some more.

I shot a goofy and authentic smile at my husband and we hugged. I called my parents and my best friend and cried with happy news. I didn’t say “It’s a girl” or “It’s a boy,” I chocked out, “It’s two healthy girls.” And then I cried some more.

To be clear, a diagnosis or state of health never changes or defines our love for a person. We were blessed with an example of the truth of equal worth of all souls through the gift of our third child, Emanuel Elizabeth. Joseph (and now his sister as well) are exactly who they are because of what God has given them. He has chosen to give them Loeys Dietz. Joseph is who is his in part because of this difference and after much prayer; I can confidently say I would not change it. I love him fully- in sickness and in health. I do not want to change him, I want to love him and let him lead me. He needed this to do so.

That being said, it is hard, and something only God can chose. It was our prayer this was not the call of our children. The unknowing prevented us from thinking about the long term for our girls.

On Thursday, I dreamed with my husband about the future of our children for the first time, ever. On our way home, we stopped for an errand and ended up buying gifts for our ladies. In the past few days the rain cloud over my motherhood has lifted and I am seeing my babies for the first time. I’m counting the fingers and the toes and loving every pudgy little one for what it is and not what is might mean.

Joseph says now that the black smoke has been lifted; he is seeing the beauty of each and every feature of our children for the first time and truly seeing the wonder of that person, and not questioning if this or that is a sign of Loeys Dietz. Instead, Tessa’s eyes are beautiful just because Tessa is Tessa and Anna’s likeness to her father is because she is Anna and her mystery is what makes Anna Anna. The features of my daughters are defined by how they reflect the beauty of the gift they are to us and not the fear of a genetic disorder. Without the looking glass of this fear, my children have almost been re-born.


I have 3 children. 1 in heaven and 2 healthy gals here with us.

I now have 4 birth stories.

Noise

Noise is a part of every mama’s life. It can’t be escaped. From the moment the first phone call is cut short due to excessive background screaming, to the first time you leave mass wondering what the reading and homily were even about, noise is an everyday fixture in family life.
Mathematically speaking,

noise + X = mama guilt.

You see, the X is my response to noise and I’m here to say,

“My name is Holly and I react poorly to the noises my children contribute to my life.”

So, in an effort to grow as a person, wife and mother, I’ve been trying to identify that X and react and adjust accordingly.

My first realization: it’s not only the children that create the noise pollution in this household. It’s all the things I add to the mix.

As a work from home mama with the pipe dream of writing burning stronger every day, I’m in front of the computer for the majority of my waking hours. When the screaming and whining are more than I can take, I hire a babysitter. I have two I turn to most often. Their names are Dora and Elmo and they cost me about $17 bucks a month in cable services.


I’ll pause so you can judge, if you so wish………



So now the TV has been flipped on, Elmo is singing with a lisp in third person form, I’m at the computer, one kid is whining and the other kid is screaming as they fight over the electronic toy whose annoying song I’m convinced was composed just to assault my eardrums. I continue on and at some point, the phone is added to the equation. And this is a typical day in my home.

The other day my husband (who also works from home) tried to have a conversation with his wife. Poor guy. As he took a seat across the room in his chair, he placed all of these distractions between us physically. In order to give him the time of day, I had to bring my hands to my face and block my peripheral vision in order to listen to him. He looked at me like I was insane.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“There’re too much going on and I can’t focus on what you’re saying.” I responded.

This poor attempt at communication with my husband made me think about other important things I may be missing out on because there is too much going on. I believe God speaks to us. But am I drowning Him out with all the noise around me?

By the evening, I had a major malfunction. The girls went to sleep and I felt anxious and jittery. All of my normal evening activities involved the computer and TV and I just couldn’t bring myself to look at either of them. I didn’t know what to do with myself and so I did what I always do when confusion consumes me. I got in bed and pulled the covers over my head.

“Ummm, what are you doing?” My husband asked.

“I don’t know I just need quiet. I can’t take any more noise right now. I need dark and quiet.” I responded.

“Don’t you have to work tonight?” he asked.

“Yeah, I just need 10 minutes of nothing. I’m craving some nothing.” I told him.

I didn’t get out of bed until the wake up alarm otherwise known as the screams on my youngest, Anna, woke me this morning.

The old saying is true. Peace and quiet really do go hand in hand. In my much needed time with quiet last night I indeed found a bit of peace - and my Lenten promise for this year.
It’s time for me to unplug a bit. It’s my hope I’ll be able to clear some noise from my head and my heart. This year, Lent will be my shield as I attempt to ward off the many things attacking my senses. Maybe then I’ll be hearing things a bit more clearly.