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Hawthorne House Renovation

The House, Week 1

The House, Week 1: Part Deux

The House, Week 4

Day Drinking in the Rubble

Renovation Lessons: God is God, I am Not

One Year Later: An Update…Of Sorts

Two Years Later: A Before and After

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Last week, when I did my little Q&A in Stories, so Last week, when I did my little Q&A in Stories, someone expressed surprise that I was a writer—like, by trade and not just for Instagram. Which made me realize it might be time for another #fridayintroductions. So… I’m Emily, wife, mom, and official member of the #oldladiesofInstagram club (exclusively for women 40+). I’m also a professional Catholic writer and have been since 2002. That was the year I left my job in DC politics and moved to Ohio to start grad school in theology at Franciscan University. I paid for grad school with a job writing for Franciscan, and I’ve been writing for them and lots of other folks ever since. Current tally is: Books: 5 Theology Textbooks: 16 Bible Studies: 10 Endow Studies: 6 Essays, Columns, Feature Stories, Fundraising Letters: ≈1 million I also ghostwrite books for other folks. It’s a secret who. I came to Instagram late, only getting on board less than 2 years ago, after my husband and I adopted our son, Toby. It started out as a guilt-free space to share baby spam. Since then, it’s also become my place for reflecting on marriage, motherhood, suffering, and the rocky road to sainthood. If you want to read theology, history, and the wisdom of the saints, go read my other work. 90 percent of the writing I do is about others’ ideas and stories. Here, though, it’s mostly my heart and my story. And baby spam. I married late (41), became a mom even later (43), and am hoping to become a mom again (at 45), as we pursue a second adoption. My neighbors think I’m crazy for wanting another baby and can’t fathom why I don’t plan on spending the second half of my life traveling Europe, eating out at fancy restaurants, and enjoying the freedom of only one child. But I can’t think of any better way to spend the rest of my days than loving another human being, by grace, into holiness. Which is what motherhood truly is. The greatest joy of my life is getting to do that with our son, Toby. I pray I can do it with one more little one, though. Because I’m greedy like that. So, that’s how you can pray for me: that God will allow me to pour my life and love into another little human being who calls me “Mama.” Now, how can I pray for you?
Fixin’ things. #notsurewherehelearnedthis #notfr Fixin’ things. #notsurewherehelearnedthis #notfromus #danieltigermaybe 🤷‍♀️ #quarantinelessons #pbsishomeschooling #mostlyiwantedyoutoseehisoutfit
Closed! You want to know the best way to prepare f Closed! You want to know the best way to prepare for a global pandemic? Spend the summer before the pandemic writing a book about death, the resurrection of the body, and life in the world to come.⁣ ⁣ Even better? Write that book with @scottwhahn.⁣ ⁣ I’ll admit, when Scott broached the idea of working with him on “Hope to Die,” I hesitated. It seemed…not my wheelhouse. And kind of depressing. It wasn’t what I wanted to spend my summer days thinking about. It’s not what most of us want to spend any days thinking about.⁣ ⁣ So, we don’t. We put off thinking about death. We avoid the topic. We even try to fool ourselves that we can avoid not just the topic, but death itself. Which, of course, we can’t. Death is inevitable. For all of us.⁣ ⁣ But that’s not a bad thing. It’s a gift. It’s a glorious gift. Because at the end of this life—this hard, heart-breaking, beautiful, but endlessly challenging life—we’re offered the chance to live a different life, a life where there is no hard, no heart-breaking, no challenging. A life where there is only beauty and peace and love and joy with the One for whom are hearts were made.⁣ ⁣ To avoid thinking about death is to avoid thinking about life. It’s to avoid thinking about joy. It’s to avoid thinking about all that’s been promised to us and all God wants for us.⁣ ⁣ It also affects the way we live now. It feeds fear about what’s to come. And when we fear what’s to come, we miss out on what God has for us today. ⁣ ⁣ That’s why I’m glad I said yes to Scott. We didn’t know this pandemic was coming. But God did. And He used that time of writing to prepare my heart for this time. He also, somehow, changed the direction of the book, so that it became more a book about life—everlasting life—than death.⁣ ⁣ “Hope to Die” has sold so well (it went into its 2nd printing after a week), that it took a month for me to get my copies. But now that I have them, I’ll randomly pick 3 winners to receive one. To enter: ⁣ ⁣ 1. Like this post⁣ 2. Follow me⁣ 3. Tag a friend below⁣ 4. Public accounts get 1 extra entry for sharing this post in stories⁣ ⁣ Closes Saturday, May 23, at 11:59 p.m. EST. U.S. residents only. Sponsored by me, not Instagram.
Instagram, I’m just here today to tell you I lov Instagram, I’m just here today to tell you I love you. You’re pretty. You’re kind. You know how to just keep scrolling when you disagree with someone and not get in a raging fight with random strangers. And, unlike your big sister Facebook, you never make me want to throw myself off a cliff in despair at humanity’s total loss of decency and common sense. Please, Instagram, don’t ever change. Just keep being you. And just because you’re so sweet, here is a picture of my newly cleaned bedroom. K. Love ya’. Bye. 😍😍😍 #instagramisforlovers #imadeamistakeonfacebooktoday #iaskedaquestionandthoughtpeoplecouldhaveadiscussion #obviouslyispendtoomuchtimehere #iswearijustreaditforthearticles
We went for a walk earlier, just before putting To We went for a walk earlier, just before putting Toby down for a nap. It’s sunny for a change, so neighbors were out, tending their gardens and taking in the light. As we passed them, one after another, they called out, “Happy Mother’s Day.” Every time it happened, it took me a minute to realize they were talking to me.⁣ ⁣ This is the second Mother’s Day where I’ve been a child’s mother. Before that, came years, decades actually, of waiting and longing and desperately hurting. Back then, Mother’s Day meant only pain for me, a reminder of everything I wanted to be and all that I wasn’t. It was also the day where I hid from the world. Far from my own mom and with all my friends spending the day with their families, I was always alone. So, I’d garden or paint or organize closets to pass the time. But all the while, my heart never stopped crying out to God. “Why, Lord?” I’d ask. “Why? And for how long?”⁣ ⁣ Now, here I sit, sipping tea and listening to music, while my baby sleeps upstairs. It feels blessedly right...and yet still strange. The house, the husband, the baby—they’re all still new to me. And like a new haircut that catches you by surprise when you see yourself in a mirror, this new life still catches me by surprise. I love it. I’m grateful for it. But I can’t quite believe it’s mine.⁣ ⁣ I don’t know why I am sharing this. Maybe to let those of you who are hurting know that I’m thinking more of you than myself today. That you’re not forgotten. That my heart is in solidarity with you. But also, to remind you that for as long as this day and this season of waiting seems, it can disappear in a blink of an eye.⁣⁣⁣ ⁣⁣⁣ Life changes fast. Prayers are answered. Babies come. And then they’re not babies anymore. It’s all so dizzying, and I don’t know if anyone ever catches up to themselves. So hang in there. Hold fast to hope. And keep crying out to God.⁣ He hears you. He sees you. He loves you.⁣⁣ And He has a plan. I don’t know where that plan is taking you. But I do know, if you keep your hand in His, He will eventually lead you to a place, whether in this life or the next, that fills you with wonder, gratitude, and total surprise that such a life can be yours.
GIVEAWAY Closed: The winner is @seashell312. Every GIVEAWAY Closed: The winner is @seashell312. Everyday, I hold a black-haired toddler in my arms. I also hold a black-haired woman in my heart. Not a day goes by where I don’t think of her, pray for her, or hurt for her. By her choice, I don’t know where she is or how she’s doing. But I do know I hold my baby because of her. Because of her suffering. Because of her sacrifice. And because of her love for the baby that belongs, in different ways, to us both.⁣ ⁣ Almost two years ago, that woman made the hardest choice a woman can make, and she made it out of love for her son. Our son. She trusted I could be the mother she couldn’t be and care for him in a way she couldn’t. No other person has trusted me more, with so much, and I pray everyday that I can be worthy of that trust. I also pray for her. And for all the women out there who have made that same choice or who are wrestling with making that choice right now.⁣ ⁣ Today, on Birth Mother’s Day, I’d like to ask you to pray with me.⁣ ⁣ As an added incentive, I’m giving one of you a beautiful necklace made my dear friend, Kate of @thestapletonsmusic .⁣ ⁣ 19 years ago, Kate gave birth to the most beautiful baby girl. She then placed that baby in another woman’s arms. To cope with her grief, Kate learned to play the harp. Today, she still plays, making beautiful music with her husband, Casey, in the home they share with their 5 children. This necklace, with a chain made of 14k gold and a pendent of vintage stamped brass, is a symbol of that music. It’s also a symbol of the love and suffering that gave rise to that music. On the day Toby’s adoption was finalized, just over a year ago, she gave one to me. Now, I want to give one to you.⁣ ⁣ To win this necklace — and two CDs from @thestapletonsmusic : ⁣ ⁣ 1.Follow @thestapletonsmusic ⁣ ⁣ 2. Let me know with a comment below that you’ll say a prayer for birthmothers and expectant mothers choosing adoption.⁣ ⁣ 3. Make a silent promise that when you wear this necklace, you’ll say a prayer for Toby’s birthmother and for any other mother who might choose us to parent her baby. ⁣ ⁣ Giveaway closesMay 11, at 11:59. Open to U.S. residents only.
When we headed out on our little cemetary adventur When we headed out on our little cemetary adventure on Sunday (nothing like a little Corona-tide family fun 😬), the new Caroline bag @lilyjadeco recently gifted me came along.⁣ ⁣ Those of you who’ve been around a while, know I almost never do product posts. I’m a writer, not a fancy Instagram influencer. But I make an exception for @lilyjadeco. Partly because they do so much to support adoptive moms...annnnd partly because they make the most gorgeous, practical, and long-lasting bags around.⁣ ⁣ Like my beloved Elizabeth bag, the Caroline bag does not disappoint. The backpack carry leaves me with both hands free when I’m chasing after a certain crazy toddler. If I ever have to go to a meeting again, it’s the exact right size for my MacBook. And, it’s absolutely huge, with tons of room for Toby’s water, toys, and snacks, plus, oh, you know, face masks, hand sanitizer, and Clorox wipes. Fun times, friends. Fun times. 😩 ⁣ #lilyjadeambassador #lilyjadecp #lilyjadeco #diaperbag #mombag #humansherpa #stylishshlepping #diaperbagbackpack #veganleather #thecaroline #budgetfriendlybags #catholicmom #adoptivemom #adoptingmom
This isn’t the new normal. No matter what the ne This isn’t the new normal. No matter what the news says. Someday the masks will come off, and friends and family will fill our homes once more. That day may not be tomorrow. Or even next year. But it will come. It always does.⁣ ⁣ Yesterday, on a walk, we passed graves of sons killed in the Civil War and mothers who died in childbirth. There were men who succumbed to cholera in 1849 and women to the Spanish flu in 1918. There was one tombstone for a mother and her three young babies, and others for bishops who tended their flocks through fires, epidemics, and wars.⁣ ⁣ All those tragedies changed lives. But they didn’t change people. They didn’t change human nature.⁣ ⁣ No death, no plague, no disaster killed the need for men and women to be together—to gather in the same room, hear one another’s voices, and see one another’s eyes.⁣ ⁣ Not one epidemic in all of human history has taken away our desire to hold the people we love or share a meal with those we call friends.⁣ ⁣ Civilizations may rise and fall, but every time they rise, they rise pretty much the same. Because people remain pretty much the same. We remain who God made us to be: the living image of a God who is a communion of Persons.⁣ ⁣ As Christians, we recognize God is a Holy Trinity—1 and 3. And because we are made in His image, we can only be fulfilled through communion. We can only be truly human through loving and being loved. And not loved in some insubstantial Internet mediated Zoom-kind of way, but substantially, incarnationally, through arms, hands, lips, and eyes. That’s why God gave us bodies. That’s why He took on a body. And that’s how men and women have used their bodies, plague after plague, for all of human history.⁣ ⁣ We will too. The new normal awaiting us on the other side of this pandemic isn’t some cold, socially distanced existence in a carefully masked bubble. That is a lie straight from the devil meant to cultivate fear and despair.⁣ ⁣ Rather, the new normal will be the old normal, where grieving people reach out to one another and love one another and build something beautiful out the mess we’ve been handed. That’s what humans have always done. And that’s what we’ll do too.⁣
Last night we got another No. “No, you weren’t Last night we got another No. “No, you weren’t chosen.” “No, this wasn’t a match.” “No, you’re not the right family for this mom and baby.”⁣ ⁣ We’ve been on the active family list for 9 weeks and this was our 8th no. “Another week, another no,” as I said to my mom last night.⁣ ⁣ By now, when we hear no, it’s hard to not also hear, “No, no one wants you.” “No, you’re not good enough.” “No, you’re never going to have a baby again.” It’s also hard to not play the “What’s Wrong With Us” game. Are we too Catholic? Too old? Too white? Too nerdy?⁣ ⁣ I’ve hesitated to post an update about this, partly because who needs a depressing post in an already depressing world? Also, because I don’t want to hear, “I told you so,” about my dashed hopes and expectations. ⁣ ⁣ I’m sharing anyhow because it’s easier than answering the question, “Have you been chosen?” 12000 times. Plus, a few extra prayers for peace would be appreciated.⁣ ⁣ All things considered, though, I’m doing okay. It helps that this isn’t my first rodeo when it comes to waiting. Practice makes perfect, right? It’s also been a blessing to pray for these women and babies. Getting this glimpse into their story is a sacred trust. I’m trying to honor that trust by continuing to pray for them, even long after they say no to us.⁣ ⁣ Most of all, I know God’s timing and plan are perfect. If another adoption is part of His plan for us, then the right baby will come at the right time. That time just isn’t yet.⁣ ⁣ For now, the waiting is teaching me that no woman escapes the curse of Eve. Motherhood is always born of suffering. Sometimes that looks like nausea and hard labor. Sometimes, it looks like ovarian wedge resections, letrozole, and progesterone shots. And sometimes, it looks like home studies, humiliating fundraisers, and months of rejection. It’s all a kind of death.⁣ ⁣ But, as the busy toddler racing about my house reminds me, that death is followed by resurrection. It’s followed by new life. The blessing is eternally greater than the curse. So, it’s worth waiting another day. Or 500 days.⁣ ⁣ (Although, if I get a vote, I prefer closer to 1 than 500. A few extra prayers for that would be appreciated, too.)
Thank goodness someone is doing some cleaning arou Thank goodness someone is doing some cleaning around here! #notme #notime #nocare ##wellikindofcare #butagainnotime #thisisreallygoodforme #thatsmystoryandimstickingtoit #notlikethereisanyonearoundheretoimpress #housekeepinginthetimeofcorona
For the woman who just threw another negative preg For the woman who just threw another negative pregnancy test into the trash…⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ For the woman who burst into tears after seeing a pregnancy announcement on Instagram…⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ For the woman who is raging, exhausted, sobbing, or sick, because that’s what fertility drugs do to you…⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ For the woman who desperately wants to be called “Mama”…⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ Please know: ⁣⁣ You are not alone.⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ You are not a failure.⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ You are not less of a woman because you can’t conceive.⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ You are not less of a wife because you can’t give birth.⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ You are not less lovable or beautiful or valuable because no baby grows in your womb.⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ God has not forgotten you.⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ God is not punishing you.⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ God doesn’t love you less than He loves women with children.⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ He sees you. He grieves with you. He feels every stab of pain in your childless heart and wants nothing more than for you to feel peace and joy again.⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ But for you, now, this is the way to peace. This is the way to joy.⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ I know that sounds like cold comfort, when all you want is a baby kicking in your womb. And I don’t pretend to understand why you and I carry this cross. I don’t know why this cross and not another. I can’t give you a reason for why we have to ache and long and break ourselves to achieve what others do with the ease of breathing, all the while feeling alone, unseen, never enough.⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ But I do know God brings beauty out of brokenness. He uses everything. He wastes nothing. If we let Him, He takes every hurt, every loss, every struggle and weaves it into the story of our salvation. He makes it part of our journey to a home where there is no brokenness. Only life.⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ I also know I wouldn’t be the mother of a black-haired toddler, with eyes like the sea, without this cross. Infertility led me to him. He wasn’t the baby I expected. But God knew he was the baby I needed. God also knew I was the mother he needed and the friend his birth parents needed.⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ I don’t know what you need. But God does. Cry, weep, and beg for a baby. Rachel and Hannah did. You can too. But don’t despair. He knows what He is about. If you hold tight to Him, in time, you‘ll know, too. And it will be perfect.
Normal things my toddler won’t eat:⁣ Chicken N Normal things my toddler won’t eat:⁣ Chicken Nuggets⁣ Eggs⁣ Goldfish Crackers⁣ String Cheese⁣ ⁣ Weird Things My Toddler Loves:⁣ Olives Stuffed with Garlic⁣ Smoked Salmon⁣ Capers⁣ Curried Fried Rice⁣ 86% Dark Chocolate⁣ Korean BBQ⁣ Green Onions⁣ Goat Cheese⁣ Brie⁣ ⁣ I don’t get it.⁣ ⁣ #actuallyido #hehashismamastastebuds #myboy #feedthemwhatyoueat #toddlerswillsurpriseyou #deargodletitlast #feedinglittles #thenextbabywillprobablyeatnothingbutcrackers #becauseitisallacrapshoot #ormostlyacrapshoot #babyledweaning #lazyparenting
It’s Holy Thursday. If you’re celebrating by c It’s Holy Thursday. If you’re celebrating by cooking a Seder meal or making a Paschal candle, that’s awesome. If doing those things helps your family enter into the sacredness of this day or just keeps you sane, that is so, so good.⁣ ⁣ But, if you’re not doing any of those things, that’s okay, too.⁣ ⁣ If home schooling, working, cleaning, chasing toddlers, herding teenagers, sewing masks, cooking 87 meals a day, and managing your own grief has left you exhausted, overwhelmed, and gasping for air, you don’t have to add one more thing to your to-do list.⁣ ⁣ You really don’t.⁣ ⁣ Today, at the #benotafraidconference, I’m talking about what makes Holy Week “holy” (hint: not anything we do). But here, I want to add that it’s okay to not be doing All The Liturgical Things this year. It’s okay to say, “Jesus, I love you. But I’m going to break if I add one more activity to our day.”⁣ ⁣ He gets it. He understands. Ultimately, Jesus doesn’t care about pretzels or candles or Easter baskets. He cares about you. He cares about you leaning on Him and drawing life from Him. That’s why He gave us the Eucharist on the first Holy Thursday, went to the grave on the first Good Friday, and rose again on the first Easter Sunday. So you could be close to Him. Now and forever. If homemade paschal candles help with that, great. If they don’t, He’d rather you let that project go.⁣ ⁣ The truth is, the best way to draw close to Jesus this week isn’t by trying to recreate the Triduum at home. It’s by joining your sufferings to Jesus’ suffering. It’s by saying yes to the crosses of the present moment—the anxiety, fear, loneliness, poverty, and grief—and laying them at Jesus’ bloody feet.⁣ ⁣ There, at the foot of the cross, the saints tell us we can comfort our crucified Lord. We also can receive the comfort only He can give.⁣ ⁣ Look to Jesus. Cling to Him. Suffer with Him. God isn’t asking you to Do All The Liturgical Things. He’s asking you to walk with Him to Calvary. He’s calling you to a new level of intimacy and a new experience of love during a Holy Week that is unlike any other Holy Week you’ve ever known. Answer that call. He’ll take care of the rest. For you and your family.
Apropos of nothing having to do with the coronavir Apropos of nothing having to do with the coronavirus or quarantine or Holy Week, Toby has gone and sleep trained himself this week. One night I was still rocking him to sleep. The next, he was pointing to his crib and asking to go there after stories and songs. I know I should be doing backflips after 20 months straight of rocking and holding, afternoon and night. But I’m not. I am not okay, friends. Not okay at all. 😭😭😭😭😭😭 #lovedeveryminuteofit #wellalmosteveryminute #atleastmostlyeveryminute #rockthemwhileyoucan #holdthemwhileyoucan #itreallydoesgobyfast #adoption #attachmentparenting #notrainsleeptraining
I’m not baking bread. Or organizing closets. Or I’m not baking bread. Or organizing closets. Or Zooming with friends. With us both working from home, days fly by. This quarantine is multiplying time for some, but for us, it’s dividing it. It’s also making an adoption anytime soon feel like a pipe dream.⁣ ⁣ While international adoptions have ground to a halt, domestic adoptions haven’t. But with agency social workers and adoptive families now banned from many hospitals, the chances of a disrupted placement are high. Likewise, unable to fly and with borders tightening, hotels closing, and even Airbnbs shutting down, many families are being cut off from babies they hope to adopt.⁣ ⁣ Covid-19 has complicated the adoption process in 100 ways. And with no end in sight to it, my timelines and expectations have been shattered. Compared to the crosses some now carry, this is small. I feel guilty even mentioning it. But it’s crushing me just the same. ⁣ ⁣ A couple weeks ago, I spoke with @mothergoodco about patience and hope in hard times. During the podcast, they asked if all my waiting for Chris helped me grow in patience. My answer was “No!”⁣ ⁣ I’m not patient. Not one bit. Never have been. Maybe never will be. These days, when I’m not working, I’m pacing the floor like a caged lion—anxious, fighting depression, and struggling to focus.⁣ ⁣ But, as I told @motherhoodco, those years of waiting did teach me about the virtue of hope.⁣ ⁣ Hope isn’t wishful thinking. It’s not believing we’ll get the thing we want. It’s believing God’s will and God’s ways matter most. It’s knowing this life isn’t the end and true peace endures only in Heaven. It’s also trusting that if we cling to Jesus, joy will be ours.⁣ ⁣ This I believe. I don’t know what lies on the other side of this pandemic. I pray a baby. But maybe not. What I do know, though, is that Jesus will be there. No matter how the world changes, He won’t change. No matter how this life disappoints, He never will.⁣ ⁣ That knowledge doesn’t take my sadness away. But it does remind me the sadness will end—for me, for you, and for all of us clinging to Jesus in this present darkness. This is my lifeline. And I pray, as you carry your own Corona-shaped cross, it’s yours, too.
My 20-month-old now calls our whacked out chive pl My 20-month-old now calls our whacked out chive plant “Bobby” and asks to go see “him” all day long. A chive plant is Toby’s new best friend. How’s your extroverted child handling quarantine 😂😂😂 #makingnewfriends #missingoldones #mamaislosingittoo #quarantine2020 #extroverthell #wilson #coronavirus
Y’all can spend your quarantine baking bread and Y’all can spend your quarantine baking bread and cookies. I’m making Arancini! #kitchenquarantine #howweleftover #samerisottodifferentday
All fall, I felt a sense of urgency about our adop All fall, I felt a sense of urgency about our adoption. I had to write the cookbook. I had to sign with a consultant. I had to get the home study complete. And I had to do it before March. It had to be done by then. I felt it in my bones. ⁣ ⁣ I believed then, like I do now, that sense of urgency came from God. But I thought it was because a baby was coming in late February or early March and He wanted us to be ready.⁣ ⁣ So, I pushed through. I launched the cookbook fundraiser at the end of January. We passed our home study in early February. And I had every last piece of paperwork ready for our consultant by February 13.⁣ ⁣ Then, I washed the baby clothes, set up the bassinet, and waited. And waited. And waited. With every week that passed, my sense of urgency seemed increasingly silly. Maybe I’d heard God wrong.⁣ ⁣ Then, I realized the alternative.⁣ ⁣ What if I hadn’t finished the cookbook when I did? What if I hadn’t pushed through on the home study and the paperwork and the fundraiser?⁣ ⁣ It wouldn’t have gone well. I don’t think we could have completed the process in the midst of the current chaos. And I can guarantee I wouldn’t have had the heart to launch a fundraiser featuring a cookbook about hospitality during a global pandemic that mandates social distancing. We would have put the whole adoption on hold, indefinitely. Maybe forever.⁣ ⁣ But, I did push through, finishing everything that needed finishing, and raising most of what needed raising. So, now, although we’re still waiting for a baby, not knowing if we’ll even be able to travel when one comes, at least we’re waiting.⁣ ⁣ The uncertainty is hard. I’m crying more than I should. But I’m also thanking God for nudging me along all those months, urging me to do what needed doing while it still could be done. It’s reminded me that He sees what we can’t. He understands what we can’t. He always goes before us, preparing the way. And He always goes with us, providing along the way. That, more than anything else right now, gives me the courage to face what tomorrow will bring. He’s here. He’s there. He’s got this. ⁣ ⁣ What about you? How has God provided for you in the crazy? Please share!
Yesterday, I was watching Daniel Tiger with Toby. Yesterday, I was watching Daniel Tiger with Toby. At the end of the show, they showed a scene of Pittsburgh at night, with thousands of cars out, PNC Park packed with people, and fireworks exploding over the city. I burst into tears. I couldn’t breathe for wanting to see my city like that again, as soon as possible.⁣ ⁣ But then, after letting myself cry as much as I needed to, I bundled Toby up and went for a walk. I felt better for crying and better for walking. I needed to do both—mourn and move, grieve and live, weep for what’s not and enjoy what is. We all need that. ⁣ ⁣ It’s okay to be sad right now. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed. You’re not a bad Catholic or a bad Christian for feeling those emotions and 100 more. We all just woke up to discover we’re living in a dystopian novel. It is…disorienting. So don’t feel guilty if you find yourself anxious, scared, or randomly sobbing over a children’s television show. This is normal, healthy, human behavior, and God understands. If the Psalmist could lay on his bed all night weeping, so can you.⁣ ⁣ But, also like the Psalmist, when the morning comes, dry your eyes. Shower. Put on your favorite spring outfit even though you’re not going anywhere. Get your baby out of his pajamas and dress him up cute, too. Then, once everyone is dressed, do something you love. Find time between work and school and disinfecting doorknobs to go for a walk or have a drink on your porch or dance around the kitchen with your spouse. Play a game. Ride bikes. Call, don’t text, that friend you haven’t talked to for months. Instead of cooking, order dinner out from your favorite local restaurant. Then, tip that delivery driver big time.⁣ ⁣ And through it all, pray. Ask God for mercy. Ask God for strength. Call upon the angels and saints for their prayers. Here, we’re praying the Litany of St. Raphael three times daily. It’s helping.⁣ ⁣ We don’t know what further crazy tomorrow will bring. But we know God will be there, understanding our sorrow and offering us blessings in the midst of it all. In an uncertain world, there is certainty in that. Cling to that certainty. Cling to him. And don’t just shelter in place. Live in place.
He has no idea what’s going on around him. All h He has no idea what’s going on around him. All he knows is the sun is shining, the grass is soft, and Mama is letting him explore the yard to his heart’s content. He is gloriously happy. And, watching him, so am I.⁣ ⁣ I grew up in tornado country, in Illinois, right on the Mississippi. Most of the worst storms lost their strength as they crossed the river, but the threat of them, just on the other side of the water, was always there. Some days, it seemed certain even the mighty Mississippi couldn’t stop one. On those days, the sky went yellow and the whole world got quiet, waiting for the roar. Would it come? Or would it pass over us one more blessed time?⁣ ⁣ That’s what the world feels like now. Quiet. Waiting. Not knowing. Life hasn’t changed. Just paused. But in a blink of an eye, the storm could come and upend everything.⁣ ⁣ I don’t want the storm to come. I have a husband with a pulmonary auto-immune disease. Nothing to worry about normally, but when medical resources are scarce, it might make the difference between life and death.⁣ ⁣ There’s also a hoped for baby out there. What happens if we’re chosen and she comes soon? How will we travel? How will we stay safe on the road or in a hospital overwhelmed by the sick? What if one of us falls ill and can’t travel there or back?⁣ ⁣ These thoughts have danced in my mind for weeks. But, beyond my unusually full pantry and suddenly cleared calendar, I’m trying to quiet them. Not because the looming storm isn’t terrifying. It is.⁣ ⁣ But it’s not here yet. And before it comes, a sudden fall down a flight of stairs could equally upend my world. Just like always. For in this life, storms are never far away. We all live in the quiet that comes before, only we rarely know it.⁣ ⁣ This time, collectively, we do.⁣ ⁣ Today, though, here, the sun is shining and my baby is laughing and the only graces God is giving are the graces for this day. So, I’m thanking him for the sun, the baby, the yard, and the man who sits here with me, savoring every blessing in this precious passing present. For tomorrow, virus or no virus, they may be gone. And I don’t want to miss what is, worrying about what isn’t. Not today. Not ever.
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