When Much is Given. . .Give Back

 The very next day after Disneyland, we braved the rain to go and put together lunches for the Homeless Shelter our church would be hosting over the next two weeks.  We worked in an assembly line while some of the kids walked the bags to boxes and others wrote bible verses on lunch bags.

From Luke 12:48. . ."From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked."  Serving alongside Marriage Ministry with our children was a blessing on this day, especially after the gifts that had been given us just the day before.  Teaching our kids to serve, to use their gifts and bless others is a goal of Ernie and I, this year especially.  

Just a week later it would be my turn to serve on the kitchen crew with my Mom Ministry to cook a meal for about 250 people.

 Father Rich stopped by to check in on us.

 This beautiful group of eight women (my mom and Anna included) got it together to serve a meal of chips and salsa, hamburger picadillo, rice, beans, and Mexican cookies for dessert.  When we left that night, some of the guests were outside in the smoking section, and they applauded us.  It was the sweetest thing.

Friends, family, and church members gave up their Friday night to serve our guests with graciousness and smiles.  This act of service was something unlike anything I've ever been a part of.  From start to finish, it was quite the moving experience to remind yourself that our job here on earth is to serve. Matthew 28:19-20 says, “Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit, 20teaching them to observe all that I commanded you; and go, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.”
Notice it says GO. . don' keep what you kn ow to be true within the walls of your own family:  GO out and make His truths known.  We give to live.  He is calling us to go.

I had the honor of giving the blessing before our meal.  I was nervous--I asked my kitchen crew to go out there with me because let me brutally honest, the sick scare me.  Some of these people looked sick, were sick, are sick and that makes me nervous.  The homeless in and of themselves doesn't do that to me, but serving the sick has never been one of my gifts--not even in my own home, I'm afraid.  With hands held, and one particular mom whispering a blessing into my ear first, and a hand on my shoulder showing her support. . .I closed my eyes and asked the Lord to fill me with the right words.  I said something like. . . "In the name of the Father, the son and the Holy Spirit.  I thank you Lord for the gift of today.  For the gift of preparing food for our guests.  I thank you for the hands about to serve and for the opportunity to feast together. . .and another sentence. Amen."

I was relieved to be finished because that is way out of my comfort zone.  Later in the evening Deacon Marv found me and told me my prayer was perfect.  I really got what it meant to be non-denominational.  Hmmm, God got it because that prayer was all Him!  Overall, serving with the shelter has been a wonderful opportunity.  Super Bowl Sunday found Anthony ready and willing to serve along side the rest of the high school teens. We must do for others while we still can.  Part of our purpose on this earth is to make disciples and the best way to do that is to spread love through the way we  serve others.  I think my kids are getting it.  That makes me feel like we are moving in the right direction. . .one step at a time.

So Much Goodness

The weeks leading up to Christmas were slower and more deliberate than usual; however, they still passed way too quickly but were filled with too much goodness not to share.  I always get giddy with excitement at the end of the year as the fruits of my labor here on to blog will soon take shape into our pretty hard bound book full of captured moments and memories from our year.  Hard to believe it is time for that already!

Lene and I headed out for some girl time at Cocoa and Cupcakes, a Christmas celebration that takes place at our friend's church.  As excited as I was originally to go, it happened to be raining and getting there proved more challenging than I thought.  In addition, if I'm being real, Lene and I got into an argument as I was disappointed with her lack of effort into getting ready for our night out together.  It is such a catch 22--I know I am blessed that she is not overly interested in fashion and fitting in with her middle school peers, but sometimes I wish she would take more initiative and not fight me on dressing up from time to time, letting her beautiful curls down, and dare I say, ""be more girly?"  That comment may come back to haunt me int the future, I'm sure, but this particular night was hard.  And then we got there and were so blessed by the speaker, by the message--by the reminder of Christ coming to earth for us.  It turned out to be a great night and I'm glad I didn't let the devil steal my joy.

This little one loved hearing the ringing bells of the Salvation Army and enjoyed putting spare change in their bucket.  Once outside Sam's she was even able to ring the bell herself.

 My book club celebrated Christmas with a potluck brunch and a few of our favorite things. So much fun! And so many cute favorite things!

My Mom's group at church had a beautiful book club discussion followed by a gift exchange, feast, and a beautiful chorus of Happy Birthday to Jesus!  Such a blessing to be a part of!

One Tuesday morning, we followed the third graders across the street down to the church on the corner. They have an annual tradition of making candy canes, and they didn't mind us tagging along and calling it a field trip. It fit right in with our book about the Legend of the Candy Cane!  Nessa was able to see her friend and I was able to reconnect with a mom who moved out of state four years ago, but who is now back/.  I love how the Lord led her back and we were able to catch up.  I look forward to more conversation with her in the future.

Another day, we were able to go to a friend's house for a play date and lunch.  Our visit was long overdue and such soul food for me.  It was the kind of catch up session where there were no lulls or silences because it had been so long and so much goodness is happening between our families.  A joy to be a part of and to see Nessa running around playing and having such a good time.  It was a very special blessing this holiday season for me.

In between all this goodness, we still did school and I just felt completely in love with every detail of my life. All of it.

And one Saturday morning we headed to our church to help pass out Christmas baskets and toys for families going through a difficult time.  We went through the line three times.  I can not believe we had never helped out in this way before.  It was love in action and it gave each of the kids a job to do to bless someone else. Their energy and enthusiasm was contagious and I was so grateful that they really seemed to get it. . .how blessed we are and how it's our job to help others.  I do believe this is something we will definitely be a part of again.

And no year is complete without our annual visit to the Living Nativity.  There were some changes to it this year and we dressed warmly, hot cocoa in hands as we walked through and watched each scene unfold. No matter how many times we've heard it, it never seems to lose it's awe factor.  I love that the kid's feel like this is what the Frank family does. It is part of what makes Christmas...Christmas.

We hadn't been to the candy store to watch them make candy canes for a long time, but we thought Anthony might enjoy it so we went.  And it was packed, so we walked down a main street and checked out the nativity scene too.  Then we headed out to dinner.  It was fun!

The night concluded with us driving around town looking for houses that displayed the nativity scenes in their yards.  The kids had carefully colored a dozen different nativity scenes and had written, "Thank you for remembering Jesus is the reason for the season."  They took turns running their pictures up to the doors and leaving them under mats.  We had Christmas music playing and it was so enjoyable to watch them and to hear them plan aloud that next year they need to color even more!

When I look at all of these activities, it feels like we did a lot, but the reality is it was all very focused on Christ's birth and we tried to keep bringing it back to Jesus,  And it felt like they really get it and that just might be the biggest gift to me.

Mother

"Mama, take my picture next to Mother Mary, "  she called as she ran off to a statue at the entrance of church.  I obliged.  And then I reflected. . .how comforting it is to think that Mary, Jesus' mother, knows all about the joys and lows of parenting.  Her mama heart was shattered at the persecution and crucifixion of her son, our Lord, Jesus Christ.  So she gets it. . .ALL of it.  The good, the bad, and the ugly. . .more so than I may ever have to experience, I hope.  She's there, to hold my mama hand and walk beside me, to encourage and inspire during times of motherhood that leave me exhausted because the Lord knew we would have those kind of days.

And this week, I'm thinking long and hard about that little girl right there.  Her fifth birthday is fast approaching and I'm reminded that it goes so incredibly fast.  We are given these little hearts to nourish and nurture and fall completely in love with, but then they grow up and hopefully discover God's purpose for their lives and they will move out and on.  And I can't help but feel a twinge of sadness.  Mary said yes to God's call on her life despite the heartbreak being Jesus' mama would bring. And my heartbreak doesn't even compare with hers, yet it exists.  It's there beneath the surface because as each year passes I'm losing a little bit more of my heart.  And I'm grappling with what that feels like today.

Full Circle

I can't believe we are sitting on the heels of another week gone by!  It has been a good week.  A rich one.  I am on the cusp of an exciting opportunity at church that only God could have orchestrated.  We have come full circle in terms of our church going.  We are right back where we started with some incredible ministry opportunities open to us.  It has been the perfect reminder that God has His hand on every single detail.  Always.

To begin with, a new marriage ministry is beginning that we are going to check out and hopefully be able to be a part of on a regular, monthly basis. E is still involved in the weekly men's group and is so encouraged and inspired each time they gather, which in turn encourages and inspires me.  Also, I am transitioning into  a co- leadership role with the monthly Mom's Ministry.  I would have never imagined God's calling on our lives to be answered in such a rich way.  I have prayed for years for my husband to be the spiritual leader I thought he should be. What God showed me instead was to appreciate the husband and father he is, and to get rid of my rigid expectations.  He has revealed a gift better than I could have imagined.  So now we walk this church community together, hand in hand.  A blessing so worth the wait.

Life is good down here in the trenches.  Carpool duties, homeschooling, writing instructor, cheerleader. . .the duties are many and the requirements immense but I'm so blessed by the beauty of these totally precious, every day moments.  My dad wrote a poem that I just love. . .I want it painted on a sign in a prominent place in our house to continue to remember, to be inspired, to be thankful for all the gifts that are right here in front of me!

I have felt such happiness this week to be right where God put me, to be living the life that I had only dreamed about up to this point.  I'm counting my every day blessings and encouraging you to always count yours too.

Comparison Traps Get You Nowhere

I think we just might have some sort of normal here in this house these days.  It's finally feeling like Fall and our routine is down (for the most parts) and life is moving at warp speed in the best possible of ways.  I've been left with smiles many time this week as I've noticed an awakening in Janessa our almost four-year-old.  She has made our family complete and is finally old enough where I feel like she is getting the routine we've tried to have in place for years but before she couldn't sit still long enough. 

Just the other night, E called a family meeting at the dinner table.  I'd love to tell you these are a part of our weekly rituals, but they're not.  We have them from time to time because there is a need to discuss something--and the title "meeting" seems to make the kids pay attention.  On this particular Sunday, E had missed the second football game of the season.  And church.  He has worked continuously for the past three weeks because there is so much work to be done.  He attempted to explain to the kids that he is working so hard right now because we need to prepare for the fact that I may not work at all next year.  Financially he has a number that needs to happen in order for me to walk away.  I get it.  Completely.  The reality is, once I resign another job is not likely to come along until I'm ready to resume full time status which I know for sure will not be for at least three years.

Anyways, questions were flying.  Statements were being made.  Real life hungry discussion was taking place and it was good. So good. . .but Janessa had enough and she started pulling the book we're currently reading at the dinner table.  She was pounding her little fist saying, "Read this.  Read this."  She didn't care who read it.  She just wanted it read now.  And I couldn't help but be filled with such happiness because for the first time--I realized she knew our family routine.  She was a part of the words being read and looked forward to the grace lessons that were doled out through poems and short stories at the end of each meal.  For a really long time I fought a storm raging inside my own heart.  I craved my man to lead us, to be our spiritual leader and I had a ton of ideas as to what this would look like.

But then a friend sent me this and seriously everything changed.  I began to be thankful for a husband who worked hard for my stay at home mom dream to come true.  I noticed the random times he called a family meeting and how he facilitated it.  I laughed out loud as he read silly poems from our after dinner book.  I noticed that although he didn't spout off bible verses, he usually read bible stories at bed with the younger two.  I discovered he listened to 99.5, a local Christian radio station on his commutes.  I acknowledged the way he willingly let me do what I thought was best in terms of teaching our kids about their faith.  And I stopped comparing him to other dads.  And loved him for who he is to us.

That has made ALL the difference!

Catholicism: Confession

This week, this young man received the sacrament of reconciliation at church. The Sacrament of Penance, commonly called Confession, is one of the seven sacraments recognized by the Catholic Church. Catholics believe that all of the sacraments were instituted by Jesus Christ himself. In the case of Confession, that institution occurred on Easter Sunday, when Christ first appeared to the apostles after his Resurrection. Breathing on them, he said: “Receive the Holy Spirit. For those whose sins you forgive, they are forgiven; for those whose sins you retain, they are retained” (John 20:22-23).

My son's experience was such a positive one compared to my own.  I distinctly remember being scared out of my mind to have to tell a priest my sins.  The Type A personality I have, even back then was petrified I would not remember all my since, hence not be forgiven.  My dad was forced to go before me because I was that terrified. The church was so different in those days.  As a Faith Formation teacher, I was encouraged to build excitement and anticipation for the gift of absolution the kids would be receiving.  We practiced examining our consciences together and we talked about sinning and asking God then and there for forgiveness.  I was able to tell them that I look at confession as a gift: a time to talk to a priest, who sometimes may say things that I need to hear.  Hearing his words of absolution soften the sting of my sin and really let me focus on ways as to not sin that way again. . .unless of course if it's something I am really struggling with, then that might be a different story.  And that is okay.

That picture above is so special to me because I had the honor of going to the rectory to get this priest every Friday to escort him into my eighth grade classroom as he answered questions: silly and serious.  He was our pastor and he poured into our lives. He heard my confession on my Engagement Encounter weekend, and I will never forget his words of advice in some areas I was struggling with a particular family member.  His words were balm for a heart in desperate need of repair.  He stood up at the altar on my wedding day and his words spoke to my heart again, as they had so many times before.

He was the man I called when my mom was sick with cancer and I desperately wanted to baptize my son, the same boy who sits before him now.  He performed the baptism at home and then dealt with the aftermath of getting me that ever so important baptismal certificate. . .makes me chuckle.  What a gift this man has played in my life as well as the life of my family.  When I questioned my Catholic faith, he owned up to his own criticisms and how that had gotten him in hot water from time to time.  He listened to me at confession again this week, and it was as if God was sitting before me speaking wisdom, peace, and grace into me.  Just the right words, just the right moment, in the form of the right man--the one who has helped to shape my religious beliefs but more importantly, my relationship with God.

The washing away of sin--such a beautiful lesson my son received this week.  I couldn't have been happier to watch him dress himself with care, get into the car with confidence, and drive to church somewhat quieter than usual.  When I asked if he was nervous, he looked at me as if I was crazy. ""No, mom.  Not at all.  I'm just thinking about my sins."  This boy, with such a generous, compassionate heart has been listening in class.  He was excited for the gift we have been given from such a loving, almighty God.  And I was a part of it.  Catholic sacraments shaping generations to come in a way filled with grace, mercy, and love.  My heart is full.

Just What You Need. . .When You Need It

Yesterday was like a breath of fresh air.  A relief. Restful.  Since the day after Christmas Lene has been preparing five days a week for the show, "Little Mermaid."  Saturday night, after nine shows, they concluded.  It was an emotional end for her, as we told her as much as we love the director and think what these kids do on that stage is incredible, we need more time with our girl.  We want her back.  Two shows this year has just about worn us out. . .and unless we can reach some sort of deal where she can only work three days a week, it just can't happen again.  It drains us, so I imagine it must drain her.  She's tired and it shows: her attitude, her whipping through her homework, sleeping in until the last possible moment. She needs a break and since she's not old enough to realize it, then it is our job to.

As usual, everything about the performance was phenomenal.  The dedication and hours these kids put in is amazing!  So far this year they have raised over twenty thousand dollars to put towards their New York trip!  There has not been a single show that we have been to that has disappointed.

Bubba cried at the end.  I love his sensitive heart.  He also told Mr. Lewis he would like to be in Hook--a little problematic for all the reasons I mentioned above.  However, these kids Kristin and Sean are role models for my kids and so good to them and encouraging.  Our final Saturday matinee was a real treat, and how much all the actors and dancers had grown since opening night!!

So, Sunday the boys were going to go riding and the girls were going to have an all day girls date.  I can't believe they took pictures and I didn't! Father and son discussing where to head next, I think.

Our day included a visit from a friend in which we learned a little bit about a famous artist and practiced our hand at painting. . .

We watched a movie and just enjoyed the day.  When it came time to go to church and the boy's weren't back yet I knew we were on our own.  The First Sunday of Lent, I wanted to be there, but the thought of doing church alone with the three-year-old felt daunting.  The girls showered and Lene combed, blew dry, and put Nessa's hair up and chose her clothes.  They both dressed up a little bit and we were off.

At church we sat two rows from the front. . .not my choice, believe me--that's a long walk if I needed to escape quickly.  But we sat and met our neighbors and kept near the end of the pew just in case. . . Around the homily, I realized we might actually make it because Nessa was just plain good.  By the sign of peace, the man in the front row turned around and said, "I am so enjoying your little one's precious responses!  I bet she is so well behaved because she learned from her big sister."  I may have forgotten to mention, Nessa is like a parrot these days, echoing responses and singing loudly the songs.

That man's encouragement/compliment filled my heart with such joy.  It was in that instant that I flashbacked on all our struggle with the Catholic Church and the idea of there not being enough for the kids. . . and I realized God met me right there in that moment.  All the squirminess, exhaustion, and attention diversions, made this moment so much sweeter.  Me and my girls experienced church together last night.  The baths and getting ready leading up to it, the dinner we went out to celebrate after it. . .all brought me back to what church is all about.

Dinner request? Shu-shi as Nessa calls it. We sat at a table and our pastor happened to be there. He had seen us at the start of mass and now he came and sat down at our table to talk to the girls. When this man speaks, it's as if he is speaking directly to you, and he knows exactly what you need to hear.  Our parish is blessed to have him. It filled my heart with peace.  We are right where we belong, it said to me.  Right where we belong. A day of rest and refueling. . .a night of affirmation and appreciation.

Putting out Fires and Forgiveness

We had quite the dining experience on Sunday night.  We won dinner at a fire house in a silent auction a few months back at a school fundraiser.  We had such a memorable experience. . .leading them in prayer, eating a great meal along side them--which would not have been complete without a spill, taking a ride on the engine to Uncle's house, getting a grand tour, plus heading to the police station to hear the dispatcher answer some 911 calls.  The highlight of the evening came when they got a call during dinner and they sprang in to action!  The chief and another fireman stayed behind to visit with us, where we stayed for desert and waited until the crew came back.

In all my 37-years, I've never been inside a fire house.  It was such fun to see the engines up close and personal and to ask questions about their daily lives and routines.  I think I had as much fun as the kids!  We pass by the fire station now and all the kids have a very special and specific memory.  Pretty neat of those guys to open their fire house that way and invite us in.

It was neat to listen to them talk with Ernie about line work.  My old car used to have a sticker that said, "Even Firemen Need Heroes," and apparently it's true.  When it comes to electricity they call in the linemen.  All I know is that we all appreciated the time they took with us, but even more importantly, the job they do day in and day out in saving lives.

Last night I ventured to a meeting at church to provide us with information about Bubba's upcoming Reconciliation.  There's something so comforting to be sitting in a church I've grown up in, surrounded by a former third and fifth grade teacher, and a pastor who I could listen to for days.  It seems the Catholic church that I grew up in has changed and is continuing to do so.  I remember clearly my first confession--boy, was I scared.  So scared in fact that my dad went up on the altar, explained my fears, sat me close so I could see and proceeded to say his own confession since I was too petrified to do mine.  Eventually I did go and when it was done I felt relieved. I don't think that's the adjective to be striving for.

Last night listening to the Pastor I was overcome with emotion that he never tries to guilt us into the church's beliefs. For once, I didn't feel guilty that I don't believe exactly what the church tells me to believe about reconciliation.  My stance on the sacrament now?  I can go to God first and foremost to have my sins forgiven.  I don't "need" the priest to tell me I'm forgiven.  He doesn't make it happen; however, the healing and joy that confession can bring to me or anyone seeking it--is a gift. Sometimes the simple conversation that the priest may exchange with you during the confession is worth the effort to go to confession if you want to.

 Last night Father called  our homes "domestic churches." The place in which I model love--and explain how sin hurts our relationships with each other.  It's the place where I model forgiveness and we share in the bread together nightly.  We read His word, we share our hearts, we pray aloud, and ask ourselves and each other if something was done in love or if it lacked love. What does love look like?  Show it.  Say it.  Do it. 

The line that stood out to me above all else, "We're all great pretenders."  Aren't we though?  Maybe it's at work.  Maybe it's on the field.  Maybe it's at home or in marriage. But for me, it struck a chord because I pretend I know what I'm doing, when really I haven't a clue.  There is no guide on how to do this parenting thing.  I fall short day in and day out and I sin repeatedly.  Often, the same selfish sins.  The only one who really knows me, who loves me despite my million and one flaws, is Him.  There is no need to pretend.  I never have to be more than He made me to be.  He loves me anyways.  That thought filled me with grace last night.  That thought stuck with me through today as I try to love with that same abandon, to serve without expectation, to love unselfishly.  "The days are long, but the years are short."--I don't want them to slip away. 

Answering the Call

It never ceases to amaze me the way God works such miracles into our lives.  A taste of tragic or trouble surrounded by an outpouring of love and support from mere acquaintances, has literally transformed the trajectory of how we are choosing to do life.  Ernie and I have committed to not only our marriage, but raising our children in the faith.  But we will be the first to admit, we have struggled in terms of our church community. We have felt a longing for something more, but could never put our fingers on it.  And in the wake of his accident, we have tried other churches and for whatever reason, we keep going back to our home.  This is not to say, that the search is over but the longing has been quieted because we've both felt a deeper calling, a stirring in our hearts that can only be explained as the holy spirit.

A weekly coffee date with a new friend, morphed into a book club, morphed into a Moms in Prayer/book club, morphed into a Good Morning Girls group in which we are all holding each other accountable to digging deep into God's word.  For some of the women this is a tentative baby step into a book that may have been considered intimidating.  For others it is an extension of sharing and growing the wisdom they've been tucking into their hearts over a deep, meaningful relationship with the Lord over a long period of time.  For me, it is simply an honor to be a part of.

This group of ten women (including myself) have absolutely stopped me in my tracks. I never in my wildest dreams could have wished for a group of like-minded faithful women from my kid's public school to share life with.  THIS is what I have been searching for.  THEY are God's gift to me in this season of life.  Amazing.  Awe-inspiring.  Humbling.  Beautiful.  Blessing, upon blessing, upon blessing!

And at the same time, Ernie is walking down a new path--finding fellowship with mere strangers whose commonality is Christ.  They covered chapter two in their book and he came home and read me some parts he underlined.  I could barely contain my excitement for his excitement.  God is so faithful.  I have known this to be true yet I am reminded again.  Seek and ye shall find--Matthew 7:7

Just yesterday he told me he was going to take the next call he received.  Unemployed for only a week, he decided he needed to get back in the saddle wherever the job may be.  His first call he declined was Blythe.  The second, Nevada.  I braced myself, with such a peacefulness about me.  I didn't worry or wonder where.  I felt a bit of sadness as I've grown accustomed to having us home together and a hint of remorse that working far away would mean the book club wouldn't be possible.  But that passed quickly as I realized he may continue to read and grow on his own.  Besides, I've been praying for two years now that he would rise up and lead us, even though it wasn't until the accident that I think I actually meant it. . .I don't know why I thought God wouldn't know. . .

Anyways, this morning, Ernie got the call. And I cry as I type this because God is so faithful.  God sees it all.  He knows everything about this heart of mine and now in the course of two months, not only did he spare my husband's life but he gifted him a job a mere twenty-five minutes away. . .with every other Friday off!!!!!!  I am so filled with wonder and praise this week.  I am growing by leaps and bound as I share Christ-centered relationships with new people both in my school Good Morning Girls group and my oldies but goodies who have been with me over the past two years.  Not to mention the special person who I lunched with today who paid me such a high compliment as needing to talk to someone who had a deep faith as she proceeded to share what was on her heart.  Such a WOW week!  Overflowing with a full heart of gratitude, that is who I am this week.  Blessed.