Being in Trouble

Our seven-year-old, William, is having a lot of "growing pains" lately.  He was banned from playing with any toys the other day because he would. not. pick up after himself -- even after being reminded repeatedly, and warned of the consequences.  Then, when he stomped around, angry about the punishment, I had to send him to his room. A bedtime sentence.  "See you  in the morning, buddy."  Poor little guy. A double whammy: sentenced to his room with no toys to play with. When I came up to see him later, he asked if he could at least have the venerable and well-loved stuffed monkey, Lester, because, "he's not a toy (snifflesniffle), he's a friend."

Yuyum and Lester

(Sniff. Gggl.  Sniff.) Needless to say, he got the monkey.

But, William, William, William.  God love him;  He's always in trouble.  Problem is, I'm the one who seems to be getting a complex about it.  Though he's truly sorry when he's punished -- I mean really truly, pitifully, big-sad-brown-eyed sorry -- before the tears have dried, he either commits the same error or finds a new one to be in trouble for.

Sigh.  Good thing I love him so much.

But, gosh, do you remember being in trouble?  Trying to justify yourself out of it; blaming someone else; making it sound not-so-bad-as-all-that?  Remember being the one doing the sap-sucking, wiping away the tears, making angry eyes at your Mom or Dad, knowing a spanking may be coming....  But almost preferring a spanking because it'd be over quicker than being grounded or sent to time out?  And being sad and mad (at you're not sure whom). But then the spanking or time-out would be over, and you'd get the gentle after talk with Mommy or Daddy, the hug, the kiss, the apologies (mainly from you)....  It was strangely cleansing to be over with it all.  And easy to move on, forgetting the whole thing. Until the next incident.

I remember.  I used to be the kid who was always in trouble.

And here I am approaching fifty, and I still get that "in trouble" feeling sometimes. Though now it's commonly known as "Catholic Guilt."  If you're Catholic, anyways. I'm sure there are plenty of non-Catholics who have conscience attacks, too -- they maybe call it something different, is all.

Here are some examples of my personal brand of Catholic Guilt:

* We were watching a Netflix series the other night about the Iditarod, and there was a particular "musher" that I just didn't like; ohmygoodness -- what an arrogant fellow!  And I said as much to the kids.  Then I got  that guilty feeling.  "Oh, boy, I deserve to get the "be charitable" speech now...  Sorry, Lord. Sorry arrogant musher dude."  And then I had to add out loud for the kids' sake, "But he certainly has good qualities, kids. He's a very good musher.  He may actually be a nice guy in real life; ya never know..."

* I feel guilty about sleeping in or slugging around when I'm sick.  I still do sleep in and slug around -- but I feel guilty about it.

*  If I'm out and about town and run a yellow light -- you know how you do that, barely making it before the red light?  Well, this gives me guilt.  "Sorry, Lord, or Guardian Angel of Traffic, or guy behind me screeching on his brakes, that was careless..."  And then I take extra care the rest of the drive to be conscientious. And if Michelle, our student driver is in the car, I have to tell her not to do what I just did...

* I have never cut off a mattress tag.  Ever.  I don't even cut off decorative pillow tags.

*  If I take something out -- say the toothpaste -- without putting it away, I can't walk far without the "in trouble" feeling dragging me back to clean up my mess...  even though it impacts nobody but me, anyway.  (Not a soul in this house notices anything out of place besides me, incidentally, and they all leave the toothpaste out...  I guess they just have some more Catholic Guilt lessons coming to them.)

*  I cannot walk away from a shopping cart and not return it to the cart coral. I even put away other people's carts sometimes.

*  I apologize to people in the store, even when they're the ones standing in the middle of the aisle blocking me from passing.  And now that I'm saying it out loud, I feel guilty about how stupid it sounds.

*  My dear and loving husband, who works in Nevada four days a week, called me this morning and told me that even though he wasn't going to be here, he had an appointment with the butcher to come take care of the cow. Tomorrow morning.  I would have to find the brand inspection paperwork first (and he didn't know where it was), then meet the guy over at the pasture (which is a few miles down the road), then chase down and secure the cow, and have her ready by the time the butcher got there.  I said, "Uh.  Are you kidding?  The answer is 'Notonyourlife, buddy. No way.  No how."  And then I felt guilty about it.  (But I still ain't doing that.)

Sorry.

* I feel guilty for sitting here typing away about guilt instead of folding clothes or working on tomorrow's lesson plans or sitting with the kids while they watch Horton Hears a Who...  And because I feel guilty about it, I'll probably sit up late correcting papers or pinning on Pintrest or something to make up for it.

But, it's all good, right?  You hear non-religious folks, especially fallen-away Catholics, complaining about Catholic Guilt as if it were a bad thing.  But it's not a bad thing at all; it's just our God-given consciences at work.  There's pretty good proof right here that my parents did a bang-up job developing mine. And I hope in the end that I've  passed it along to my children. If the whole world had a good dose of Catholic Guilt -- owned it, recognized it, and used it to guide them in their behavior,  it'd be a much better world, all the way around. Little boys would put their blocks away.  People would not run red lights -- or at least they'd scream apologies out the window while they sped by. Toothpaste would not be left out.   Shopping carts would never ding car doors.  Cow's butcher dates would still have to be postponed, but someone somewhere might feel kinda bad about it...

And, now...  just because these made me laugh (as I guiltily wasted time scrolling through cow pictures on Bing...), I would like to share the following:

And that is all.  Except  I'm wondering who'll feel guilty for not leaving me a comment after they read this...

Hmmmmm?  

Roots Like These, Maybe?

There are only two lasting bequests  

we can give our children - 

one is roots, and the other, wings.

 - Hodding S. Carter

Rain =  the shower of care that parents give their children, materially:  nutritious food, safe and comfortable lodgings, decent clothes to wear, access to real learning

Soil =  where the "nutrients" of a healthy emotional life come from: a stable and secure home life, responsible and loving mother and father, supportive extended family network, caring teachers and mentors, wholesome friends

Air = the atmosphere we're born into:  whether it's country, city, or suburbs; if the neighborhood is safe; if the country is in conflict or war;  the prevalent influence of violence and immorality via the media or surroundings, in general

Sun = the light of God: knowing His presence, loving Him, serving Him + all those things that go into creating a heart for faith, hope, and charity

Roots = the result of good healthy rain, soil, air, and sun. Good deep roots allow a child to weather well the winds and storms of life.  They reach down to deep wells of faith and self determination, when all other resources go dry.  Tapping the springs of eternal priorities, good roots allow children to reach toward the heavens --  guiding them safely into productive, contented adulthood, and, eventually, sainthood.

Which is where the wings come in.

Remember me in the family tree

My name, my days, my strife;

Then I'll ride upon the wings of time

And live an endless life.

~Linda Goetsch

"Root Juice" For Catholic Families

Balance discipline with fun

   -- pick and choose carefully where to draw lines in the sand when making family rules; few good rules followed are better than many rules ignored

   -- stick to the rules, firmly, but dispassionately, and with explanations so everyone understands why these rules are necessary

   -- laugh more than you hollar

   -- do something every single day to build a happy memory for each person in our family

        (and see how happy you become!)

 Nurture special family traditions that incorporate the Faith and nurture children individually

   -- Celebrate namedays and Holy Days with special attention whenever possible

   -- Find special family patrons and make big days out of their feast days

        (For instance, since our sir name is "Davis," the feast of King St. David of Wales is a big day at our house -- and we make very merry on the feast of St. Patrick due to our Irish roots.)

  Say "I love you" and show it through your example of little "services" to everyone

   -- Be an active member of your parish; encourage the children to join in whenever possible

   -- Be an example of charity in the world at large -- from letting someone into traffic to volunteering at a homeless shelter; actions speak louder than words.

   -- Be a symbol of charity in your home, working tirelessly and cheerfully -- but not without expecting gratitude.  Gratitude must be taught to children; thank them for their work and expect them to thank you for yours

  Pray

   -- Pray alone and allow the children to see you doing so

   -- Pray together as a couple and be glad that the children know you do

   -- Pray together every day as a family on your knees or standing before the crucifix

   -- Pray throughout the day: at meals; when passing a Catholic church where the Blessed Sacrament dwells; when passing a cemetery; when traveling; when an emergency vehicle passes; when any trial occurs; when any happiness requires a prayer of thanksgiving

Resolve to be a Happy Family
   -- Happiness is a choice -- one that we have to recommit to every single day
   --  The happy memories that our children carry through their lives dig deep roots of habit and priority:
    * If the majority of their happy memories surround football, for instance, their life's goal will be to recapture that happiness -- through sports
    *  If the majority of their happy memories surround faith and family, they will carry that priority into adulthood

On the Feast of St. Francis de Sales, January 29th

Born	21 August 1567 Château de Sales Duchy of Savoy
Died	28 December 1622 (aged 55) Lyon, France
Beatified	8 January 1661, Rome by Pope Alexander VII
Canonized	8 April 1665, Rome by Pope Alexander VII
Shrine	Annecy, France
Feast	January 29 (local communities and among Traditional Roman Catholics)
Attributes	Heart of Jesus, Crown of Thorns
Patronage	Baker, Oregon; Cincinnati, Ohio; Catholic press; Columbus, Ohio; confessors; deaf people; educators; Upington, South Africa;Wilmington, Delaware; writers;journalists

* You can find lots of links, coloring pages, and other information about St. Francis de Sales, at these posts.  from past years.  Happy Feast of St. Francis!
** Oh, and the graphic with the bio information on St. Francis, I adapted from Wikipedias (in the interest of full disclosure... ;0).

Because We Can Never Just Go On a Sunday Afternoon Walk...

Without it breaking into silly songs...

L-R: Theresa, Anna, Gabe, Dan, and Michelle. Not pictured: William and Cathy walking near me,I think.
Right about here, Dan and I were getting treated to the children's rendition of the song: Dumb Ways to Die.

Or football...

Or something like this...

And I don't know what you call this. But it sorta just "broke out" like the football does.
Crazy.
Being homeschool kids, they may not know how to walk in queues, but they're very good at spontaneous synchronized pattern walking.
For what it's worth.
 Just saying.

Hang on!

Just downloaded this from the Christmas week sledding trip.
Thought I'd share. Michelle and Theresa heading down with you...

Hang on to your hat!



Did you get a little snow in your hair there? Here... Let me help you back up now.  Let's go get some hot chocolate, OK?  My treat!

Roads

Taken near the Devil's Watchtower, Denver foothills, Spring, 2011
Look at all the green! Makes me long for spring!

Roads Go Ever On


The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way,
Where many paths and errands meet.

The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with weary feet,
Until it joins some larger way,
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.

Still 'round the corner there may wait
A new road or a secret gate;
And though I oft have passed them by,
A day will come at last when I
Shall take the hidden paths that run
West of the Moon, East of the Sun.

J.R.R. Tolkien

(Three of six verses)

Signs

"Postcard From God," by Dan Sibley

It's been a theme of my life, waiting for postcards -- or signs --  from God.  I have so many questions for Him! I keep hitting all these "Ys" in the road, Lord...  Not to mention bumps and unexpected obstacles.  So many times I've not been sure whether to hit the accelerator or the brake. Or just get out of the car and walk -- or just sit in the shade. Maybe get an icecream cone? 

Seems like an impossible dream, actually getting an answer.

But, here's the thing:  God does send us postcards. He really does post signs!  There's no question that our Father in Heaven steers us in the right direction when we ask Him -- and want to know the answer.  Every once in a while, we get a signal grace, an obvious message from heaven cluing us in, but usually signs from God are subtle.  You have to be watching. I mean really paying attention to catch them.  Because, seriously:  I know God's sent me postcards that I've accidentally thrown out with the junk mail.  And I'm sure I've missed many a road sign with my name on it because I was busy gabbing with the other passengers in the car.  There have even been signs bordered
 in flashing red lights that only registered after
 I drove into a ditch. 

"OH!  That's what that meant!" I say, hitting 
my forehead with the heel of my hand.  (Boy, do I do that a lot!)



I wish God would make it easier for those of us
who aren't so quick on the up-take.

When I first started dating, for instance, I needed to see one of these signs, maybe flashing right over the heads of bad dates:

Then, when Dan and I were first married, and anxious to "have it all" -- the nice house, the nice furniture, the high end job, the vacations, all the goodies of a modern couple in a modern world...  it might have helped us set our priorities, to understand that God had this pace planned for us :

When we got good at the parenthood thing, we slid into a complacency in our spiritual lives and needed to see this sign to keep our rears in gear:

But, since really working to make progress in the spiritual life is one of the hardest, most unending chores known to man, we probably needed frequent postings of strongly worded signs to keep us going:

When our oldest children turned the corner into puberty, this kind of warning would have been helpful:

And then, when we were ready to give up on the hard stuff  (Like, sometimes you just want to throw in the towel with teenagers, let me tell ya!) we could have used this sign from God:

These would have been good deterrents from mixing with poor company:

Making a bad decision?  One of these might have caught our attention:

Arguing with a spouse?

Need to make a change?

And on the long, hard stretches, I would love to see these signs from the Creator:

Do you suppose, though, if He sent us really obvious signs -- I mean right-in-our-faces signs, with "Love, God" at the bottom -- we'd pay attention and do the right thing?  I'm not sure if I would. It's easy to "miss" God's signposts because we don't really like the direction He's taking us.  His choice of roads is twistier and steeper than we like most of the time.  It's easy to feel we're not up to the challenge, especially when God's got the map and we can't see the whole route for ourselves.  Usually we're lucky just to see to the next curve in the road.  Sometimes we're too lazy to even make a start at all, or too worldly, or too full of ourselves to follow where God wants to lead.   Perhaps at times God just leaves us to our own path-finding? I don't know. But I know God's will is not always as clear as I'd like it to be. 

Still, it's all good.  There's a lot of interesting stuff to look at on the roadside -- even when I'm having to retrace my steps half the time to go back to the right turn-off.  And the companions I've had on this road are the best.  I'm not there yet, but I'm on my way.  And I love to travel.  

I'm glad you're traveling with me, blogging-world friends and family!
 (And you, too, heavenly patrons and angel friends!)