New Year, New Look at Humility

Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow has not yet come. We have only today. Let us begin. Blessed Teresa of Calcutta (Mother Teresa)

Hello Ladies,

Today I'm going to be talking about a controversial and therefore misunderstood subject: humility. What is humility exactly? The hallowed Oxford English Dictionary defines it thusly:


Definition of humility
noun
[mass noun]
the quality of having a modest or low view of one’s importance:
he needs the humility to accept that their way may be better
Origin:

Middle English: from Old French humilite, from Latin humilitas, from humilis (see humble)


But there is much more to the word. Modern society views humility as a dangerous virtue for women. It is often used synonymously with weak, powerless, silent, and undervalued.

What does this mean for us Marian moms who, like Christ's mother, are called to be humble?

We should have no fear of becoming weak, powerless, silenced or undervalued. We need not try to change who we are as if ashamed of having a strong character or any other gift God has bestowed upon us. There is no need to redefine humility. We just need to put it in the proper context.

We need humility to accept that God's way is better.

It is a disturbing truth that God calls all of us to be humble. After all, what are we compared to Him in His glory?  But let's put it in a different perspective. Blessed Mother Teresa put it this way:

I don't claim anything of the work. It's his work. I'm like a little pencil in his hand. That's all. He does the thinking. He does the writing. The pencil has nothing to do with it. The pencil has only to be allowed to be used.

       Blessed Teresa of Calcutta (Mother Teresa)

Could anybody call Mother Teresa weak? Impotent? Silent and without value?
She transcended religious, cultural, national and political spheres to humbly do God's will. What is the difference? How could she affect such change?

Because she was humble before God.

I have heard from a few sources that she was hell on wheels before man. She would have to be in order to affect such change in the world.

Now it's hard to have the humility of a saint. That is why we must practice. But where to begin?

Be not afraid to tell Jesus that you love Him; even though it be without feeling, this is the way to oblige Him to help you, and carry you like a little child too feeble to walk.
     St. Therese of Lisieux

I love the above quote for several reasons. What mother does not understand the imagery of carrying a child? How many times do we feel our own need to be carried? How many times do we tell those around us that we love them? How many times do we ourselves need to be told? I also love the idea of God taking direct action in our lives. It has been said that young children love not the the people who cater to their desires but those to take care of their needs.

We are God's children. He takes care of our needs.

Now isn't that a relief? God loves me. He takes care of my needs.

Is it too much for me to give up my grudge against my neighbor so that I can focus on what is in front of me? Is it more important for me to talk on the phone with a friend or take care of my crying child? Sometimes we need to let the child cry and talk to a friend for our own sanity. But what if I'm just gossiping? Oops. What if I'm incorrect in my assumptions and I'm spreading false information (while my child is crying)? Double oops. You see the direction this is taking.

If you're at a loss where to begin try the following:

Be quiet. Hang up the phone. Turn off the t.v. and music. God's voice is so great that He needs to whisper.

Thank God for all of your blessings.

Ask God for what you need. Save the wants for later.

If you need to get work done - which face it, you probably do, do what is in front of you with great love.

Pray while you work. If you are cooking then thank God for the food. If you are washing dishes then thank God for the food, dishes, water, soap, and for those who shared your meal with you. etc.

If there is a person or situation that makes you really angry, then pray for that person or situation. (I do this a lot!)

If you have time to get away - Go to mass.

Go to Eucharistic adoration.

Read the bible.

Right now I'm just talking about the small stuff. But our lives are connected by moments. if we do not practice allowing God into the moment then we will be unable to let God in when it really matters. And it only really matters right now.

Hopefully at this point you realize that being humble isn't about labeling your thoughts as inadequate and suppressing them. It's about realizing that your thoughts are so important that they shape your reality and asking God to guide you to a reality far greater and more wonderful than you could possibly imagine.

And if you think that your work as a mother isn't important just think what life would be like if you didn't take care of the basic needs of the household. Ask any child who was neglected or who grew up in sloth or was denied love. Remember that we are entrusted with souls of God's own making, vulnerable and full of potential, just as Jesus was. Just as we are.

Lately I have had real cause to cling to humility. I have mentioned in an earlier post that I have been diagnosed with postpartum depression. It's getting better but you can imagine how my reality has been affected by this illness. I know that perception of events is skewed. Now that I am aware of the situation it is much easier to take a step back and stop taking things so personally. It is a huge relief and has helped the healing tremendously. No, it's not all about me. No, I don't have to fix it. No, I don't have to prove anything. And no, it's not all my fault. Once I admit that things are better than I perceive them to be... well, imagine the liberation from anxiety.

My newborn daughter is now at the stage when she fights sleep because being awake is much more interesting. She's miserable being awake. Sometimes it doesn't matter what I do to settle her down. There is no convincing her that she will be so much happier after a good rest. I often feel that my relationship with God is like this. He knows what I need. He is willing to care for my needs. But my way is so much more interesting, even if it makes me miserable.

It is only in the quiet where I find rest. It is only with God in my heart that I find peace. It is only with God by my side that I can find the strength to do the small tasks in front of my with great love instead of crying on the floor of my closet because I am overwhelmed. It is only by asking God to heal me that I am overcoming my illness. It is only by listening to God that I gain the wisdom to care for myself. All of this because one day I entertained the idea that God's way may be better than mine.

I do not claim to be better than anyone. I do not pretend that I have all the answers. But I do know that motherhood is hard and we need to support one another. I know that some moms look at me as if I have it all together. I don't. Obviously. But, well, how can you go wrong by trusting God?

May God Be with You!



AUTHOR'S NOTE

Imagine my surprise to find out that some of my most consistent readers are women who aren't mothers or even men (who are obviously not mothers, either). Welcome! I'm glad to know that some of my, could I call it wisdom?, has a broad, practical appeal. Please forgive me if I continue to cater this blog to mothers of young children. Trying to broaden the spectrum would probably make my head explode. But feel free to add your comments. We learn from one another.

Jesus' Birthday Gift

Hello Ladies,

I have a feeling that this post will be a strange one even by my standards. The point of this blog is supposed to be documenting a journey that we as mothers take with our children to Christ. As a theologian I believe that if our beliefs do not manifest themselves in a practical way then they are pointless. For example, if your child is NOT the type to kneel in front of a crucifix every day and recite the rosary then maybe it would be better to find a different form of prayer. On the other hand, I have met mothers who make it a daily practice to do exactly that and they do it with a great deal of success.

Christmas is stereotypically stressful. There is a great deal of expectation. It almost doesn't matter what that expectation is. It could be to prepare a feast for a large family. It could be wrapping a zillion gifts. Whatever. So I got to wondering: what would a celebration look like where Jesus himself would feel welcome? This is his birthday party after all. What would He like me to give him for Christmas?

If you ladies have read any of my earlier posts (Legacy and New Life, Death, and Insanity), you know that things have been really crazy in my household. In short, an elder of our family who had a drinking problem recently died. She was mean and slanderous to the end but managed to charm people who did not know her very well. This woman had two sons. One son did everything for her (clean her yard and pool every week etc.). The other son is very good at making lots of money. The first son realized that she was turning him against his brother and vice versa. The other son was not wise enough to realize that she was also slandering him; he believed himself to be the better, more loved of the sons. Despairing of a normal relationship the first son finally severed ties with his brother and had very limited contact with his mother.

Now this mother is dead. Even though this woman was "such a nice lady" who "loved us and both her sons" nobody really wanted to be around her - especially at Christmas. This is the first Christmas in a long time that I have not been asked to take on the burden of her presence. I finally feel free. And the first son? Like he's been released from prison.

So what's the big deal? And how does this relate to Christmas?

Since her death I've felt called to pray for this woman. As a matter of fact, out of the blue a friend of mine told me that she had dreamed of this woman in purgatory. Her dream was almost identical in detail to a dream I had that exact night.

Praying for somebody who you believe to be in your debt is actually rather easy. She needs my mercy and forgiveness after all. (Again, read earlier posts.) I don't like this woman. I have every reason not to like her. I don't much like the second brother, either. But then he's also easy to pray for because he needs prayers so badly. Basically, I've been praying that peace enter the family. I've been trying really, really hard to be gracious and be an instrument of healing. I thought that getting these brothers in the same room without it resulting in extreme unpleasantness would be a miracle.

Then I felt a shift while I was praying. Instead of praying for this woman I felt that she was asking for me to pray with her. This makes me feel extremely uncomfortable because suddenly I feel we are on the same level and I'm really still very angry about the lies she's been telling for years. I also feel that she's asking me to pray that her sons will not only be in the same room but praying together on their knees before the Eucharist. The picture is quite clear in my mind. I guess my miracle is too small in scale.

Why do I believe these 'visions'?

The first reason is because God wants peace and unity for all of His children and especially peace within families. Peace is the point of Christianity.

The second reason is that it makes me very uncomfortable and somewhat angry. I much prefer the thought of praying for this woman. I like the idea of her "owing" me. Petty? You bet. Am I proud of it? No. But I feel forced to transcend my limitations. With the grace of God I can do this - even if I don't want to.

There is also a parable which relates to what I'm going through. It's the one about the master who forgives his servant his debts and the servant runs off and threatens another servant who owes money. (Okay, I should be citing this but my bible is in the room where the newborn is sleeping and I'm too tired to google it. If I'm not clear enough just ask and I'll humbly quote and cite the parable. If you have mercy on me though maybe you could just add it in a comment, please. I really need the sleep.) So here's the thing: Jesus has forgiven me my debts by dying on the cross. I owe everything to him. So how can I run back to this woman and say "you owe me"?

A "vision" (would "encounter" be a better word?) that is theologically grounded AND challenges me to transcend my own pride? I do not claim that it is the "truth" but it is compelling enough to take seriously.

Ok - I'm finally getting to how this relates to Christmas. For Christmas I want to tell Jesus that I've actually listened to what He has to say and I'm acting on it. I want him to have a party where people are having fun and celebrating and not fighting. I want him to know that I value him more than my inner dialogue.

It might not sound like much. It probably isn't very much. But I remember a quote from Mother Teresa which says that if you want peace in the world go home and love your family.

After the tragic deaths in Connecticut I really feel like hugging my children. I want them to be raised in a loving family. If that means that I swallow my pride and admit that Jesus died for this woman who constantly rejected his love - I will do it. If it means that God wants me to get down on my knees and pray with someone I really don't like for an event I don't think will ever happen, I will do it.

Because, Ladies, being a peacemaker takes practice. It is who and what we are called to be. And we need God's grace to do it. And our world, our children, need peacemakers so badly. We can no longer afford to wait for somebody else to do it for us. In the West we are told that faith should be in the home. They mean it as in insult. If they knew how powerful that statement is they wouldn't dare speak it.


Prayer of Saint Francis of Assisi

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury,pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.


O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. Amen

Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.

Happy Birthday, Jesus! 

Good night, Ladies. May God continue to bless you and keep you in His peace.

New Life, Death & Insanity

Well, Ladies, it has been ages since I've written anything. It's been even longer since I've written anything meaningful, if ever. Let me fill you in.

I've been pregnant. If you know me you'll know that I'll take hard labor any day before pregnancy. I become grumpy, nauseated, exhausted, and generally not fun to be around. So it went for about 32 weeks. Then my baby dropped and I started having contractions. My doctor was NOT impressed with this new development and exhorted me to get more rest. I asked if he could babysit my other two children. Not amused, he gave instructions for when to go to the hospital (contractions every 15 minutes apart, water breaking, bleeding, baby not moving) and they would do everything in their power to make sure the baby wouldn't be born early. Except for the bleeding and baby not moving. Then it would be an emergency cesarian.

Through the grace of God I made it to week 38. You would think the doctor would be happy. And yes, he was. But then he was afraid the baby would go into distress. He wanted me to go to the hospital several times a week to have the baby monitored. Once again I asked if he would babysit or if a toddler and a kindergarten age boy would be welcome to run around the hospital while I was strapped to a machine. I mean really, how serious could it be? He ordered a nurse to come to the house several times a week to monitor me. Gulp.

I was induced in my 39th week and my second daughter, a healthy girl named for Our Lady, was born.

Stress over, right?

If you've read my earlier post entitled Legacy, (yeah, I know, it's been so long I have to look it up, too), you know that an elder of our family has been causing a great deal of grief. Right before I became pregnant she was diagnosed with cancer and the idea of another child in the family brought her no joy. In fact, she told everybody who would listen that I did not want this child. We had no business having more than two children. I was overburdened and depressed. You get the idea. Oh, and my husband should be at her bedside at all times. It became difficult even to talk to extended family without hearing - I kid you not - how selfish our family was. Oh, and how much this woman loved us. Everybody was convinced that she would die any day. Everybody was on high alert. This went on for about ten months.  (The family, coincidently, lived far from where she did. They did not even consider going to visit.)

With the birth of our daughter came to obligation to call this woman and tell her the good news. It was from this phone call that my husband learned that the elder was going into hospice/palliative care. She would go from the hospital directly to a center where those with fatal illnesses go to die with dignity. Would he visit her before the end? Of course! She never once asked about me or the child. We didn't take it personally because she was dying. We would keep our joy muted out of respect.

By the time my husband got home from the hospital there were already e mails from family members who were shocked that he was so selfish as not to visit this woman. By the time I got home from the hospital (and in North America you're talking two days maximum for a vaginal delivery) we were getting phone calls from three countries, two continents, and numerous e mails from people wondering why my husband wasn't at this woman's deathbed. They didn't know our daughter had been born. Oh, and she loved us so much!

My daughter wasn't two weeks old when my husband went flying out to see her. She was dying! (tick tock). When my husband arrived everybody (not the family, of course. They weren't there) was shocked to see him. ("Oh, we heard you weren't coming!") He stayed for five days and then came home. ("So soon?")

After all of that this woman lived on for more than a month. (tick tock?)

I do not mean to say that her death is a matter for jokes. I am not resentful that she somehow took attention away from me because she was gravely ill. But I am still angry about the whole thing. Had she been, less, well, deceitful and vicious, my husband would have been able to make sure the baby and I were settled before he went to visit and would have been able to stay longer.

I know that people change as illness overtakes them and they approach death. Sadly, this woman had been behaving this way for as long as we can remember. This is her legacy.

Oh, and she loved us. She was such a "nice lady".

So the funeral came and went. Thankfully nobody expected me to attend. Without this woman egging them on the family stopped calling us to tell us how selfish we are and how misunderstood she was. Blissful silence.

How was I handling everything? I thought I was doing well until I was diagnosed with postpartum depression. There was nobody in the family I could talk to because, of course, I had no business having another child. And besides, I didn't want her anyway. Depression was the proof of our incompetence as a married couple, parents, and human beings in general.

So I reached out to a few trusted friends (and now an anonymous internet community) and asked for prayers. I received some truly beautiful and prayerful responses. One woman told me that she would give thanks to God for the miracles He was surely to bestow on us in our need. Would you believe that I actually became angry with her for that? I mean, a miracle would have been if this elder had given up her addiction to alcohol years ago. A miracle would have been Jesus taking care of my crying baby in the middle of the night because my husband was out of town placating a selfish, slanderous woman out of sheer self defense. A miracle would have been never falling in to depression.

Then I began to wonder: what is a miracle anyway? And what do I truly want?

Well, a miracle is the birth of a healthy, full term daughter.
Thanks be to God!

It would be a miracle if this woman ever makes it to heaven. Yet doesn't God want all of His children to be with Him? Finally! Something to pray for.
Lord, hear our prayer.

God does not want any of His children to suffer any mental illness, temporary or otherwise. He does not wish us to feel overburdened and in despair.
Lord, hear our prayer.

It seems impossible that, because of this woman's meddling, certain members of the family can ever come together in love and mutual respect. But doesn't God desire us to be a part of a loving family?
Lord, hear our prayer.

I am finally understanding that God doesn't really perform any miracles at all. He is capable of anything. I was just so limited in my thinking that I couldn't imagine any peaceful resolutions. For me, the miracles are the change in my perception. God doesn't change. We change. The kingdom of God is here and now.

One night after praying the Chaplet of Divine Mercy, I felt a huge weight lifted from me.

I understood that Jesus died for this woman and she needs my prayers. She can no longer hurt us and wants us to forgive her and asks for our mercy.

I do not have to come up with witty speeches to defend my family against slander. I no longer have to be right all the time. The slanderous voice is silenced. If I wish for peace then I am invited to peace. I can create peace within the family by being at peace.

It isn't that my pain is unimportant or my view of events isn't valid. We have truly been willfully injured. Yet I am learning that these things pale in comparison to the love of God. And frankly I am not going to wait around for those who have wronged us to give an apology before I start feeling better about life.

So after all of this how am I doing? Better. My husband and I are working together as a team to make sure that I have rest and help. And he is well aware that he asks about the dishes in the sink at his own risk. We no longer feel that we are under siege from family members who were afraid of this woman's viciousness as well. Our children are thriving. I am getting out of a horrible fog and starting be believe that I am a capable woman again. I am looking forward to the future.

If you have made it this far, please pray for Susan.

May God continue to bless you. I will continue to pray for you and in thanksgiving for the miracles He will surely provide for you.

Oh! My! God!

Has it really been months since I last posted? Apparently so. When I began this blog I had dreams of writing profound treatises on the lives of the saints or the holy days in the liturgical year. Ha ha. So instead of being profound I am going for honest in the hopes that there is something worthwhile in the mundanity that is my life.

The main reason that I haven't written is that I am pregnant with my third child. Don't get me wrong - I'm happy and excited. It also means that I am tired, exhausted and cranky. I also have carpal tunnel syndrome which means my wrists always hurt and my hands are always sore and tingly. Luckily for me this will last only through my pregnancy so I only have about 15 more weeks of the pain and then my wrists and hands will be better.

Today is Pentecost, the birthday of the Catholic Church. What am I praying about? I am praying that my daughter will Stop Crying and take a nap. I am praying that a certain elder in my family will turn towards God instead of being deceitful and nasty. I am praying that my hands will be strong enough to fold laundry and wash dishes after I'm done writing this blog. I'm praying that this blog will be worth the pain of typing it.

I know, it's not very exciting. Probably not worth the time it takes to read it. But most of the time following Jesus isn't very exciting. I do not claim to be worthy of intercession for such small things. But I do humbly admit that I am reliant on Jesus for everything - and I mean everything. I could not possibly get through the days (and nights) of constant interruption and demands without God's aid. I am simply tapped out.

Mostly I just want to be alone. This is, of course, impossible when one is pregnant. I want someone else to be responsible for the kids for a while so that I may rest. This is also impossible. But I find I make it through if I'm honest about my pain and loneliness and allow God to work through me. I am grateful for any quiet time, however fleeting, I can spend with God. I acknowledge my weakness, reliance and gratitude and then I am just... quiet. I do not expect tongues of flame or any great signs. I don't want them. I just want to be able to stop for a few minutes and not feel the need to shake or cry. I certainly don't want to think of my 'to do' list. It is a habit, or perhaps a skill, to be able to be quiet for a few moments - one I have not entirely mastered.

Sometimes I wonder if Jesus was ever this exhausted when He was preaching and ministering to the sick and lonely. I know that He shook and cried in the Garden of Gethsemane out of fatigue and loneliness. I do not need to pretend to be strong.

Well, Ladies, my daughter is sleeping (a miracle!), my hands are sore and the kitchen needs to be cleaned. Thank you for sharing this part of my journey with me.

Happy Pentecost.

Deus Nobis Sit!

Here I Go Again....Saint Gianna Beretta Molla

Well Ladies, here I go again. Yes, I'm pregnant with my third child.

How do I feel about this? Thrilled. Terrified. Nauseated. Exhausted. Moody. At peace.

If I did not believe that this child is a gift from God I would be in a panic. You see, pregnancy is NOT my favorite state of being. In fact I dubbed my two children "tyrannical parasites" when I was pregnant with them. This is because my body stopped working for me and got to work putting together another human being. My children got the meals, as it were, and I got the table scraps. And considering both my children weighed in over 8 pounds at birth there really wasn't much left to share.

But this time I feel different about things. Maybe it's because morning sickness hasn't yet set in. (Hey, don't discount the importance of feeling physically well!) Maybe it's because after two children my husband has clued in to how best to support me. Maybe it's because I've been there, done that, and have nothing else to prove.

Mostly it's because I've learned to put my fear and inadequacies aside and just praise God for giving me this gift. Because if there's one thing pregnancy teaches a woman is that it isn't about her. And that's ok. Because there is a time and a place for everything. At some points in life it will be all about me. At other times I will humbly do the will of God.

I didn't always think about things in this way. I used to worry about being happy and making others happy. And putting others first is not a happy thought. It sounds too much like giving up or coming in last. But since then God has shown me that putting the needs of others first can be the best for all involved. If you think about it, children love those who take care of their needs - not their wants. Children respond to those who love them and take joy in them and not those who try to make them happy. Do you think I am alone in this?

Ladies, I would like to introduce you to my new favorite saint and role model: Saint Gianna Beretta Molla. (For more information check out the following websites: http://www.saintgianna.org/stgiannalife.htm
http://www.catholic.org/hf/faith/story.php?id=33384

Saint Gianna was a wife, mother, and physician.  She was born in Italy in 1922. When she was pregnant with her fourth child she was informed that she had a tumor in her uterus and was advised to abort so that she could receive medical treatment. She flatly refused, saying that the life her child was more important than her own. She died just seven days after the birth of her daughter.  One could easily imagine that her husband and older children would resent the baby for 'killing' their mother, but no. They recognized that Gianna would have done the same for them and they loved her and the baby more for her sacrifice. Did she struggle with her decision? You bet she did! But ultimately she had faith in God. She died April 28, 1962 and was canonized on May 16, 2004 with her family in attendance. Her feast day is April 28 and she is the patron of mothers, doctors, and preborn children. Her most remarkable attributes were here love and joy for her family and her job as a physician. She is the first woman canonized who was not a martyr and never entered into religious life. She simply did the task at hand with great love and joy.

I know it sounds strange but there is so much baggage attached to being pregnant. Am I talking about it too much? Too little? Am I working too hard? Am I a wimp for putting my feet up every once in a while? But then I think of St. Gianna who took great joy in giving life to others. She would have been thrilled for me because she was thrilled with her own children. This is how I would like to be.

So Ladies, please pray for me as I pray for you. Let us reach out to one another and be as supportive and affirming as we can. What does it cost to say "I'm happy you were born" instead of giving a scowl of disapproval for some imagines offense. We are, after all, children of God and He takes delight in us.

Sit Deus Nobis! (May God Be With US!)

The Christmas Season

My mother used to say that she had to make a big deal about certain things or nobody would know that they were important. Christmas was her favorite time of year and she made a HUGE deal over it. It would really drive us crazy. I remember once as a girl crying after gifts and dinner. I remember thinking that I had everything my little heart could have desired and more. And still I felt empty. I remember asking God, through sobs and tears, if this meant that I was a selfish little girl who only wanted more. Christmas was over and I was disappointed. Weeks of hard work and anticipation were used up in mere hours and the only thing to show for them were scraps of wrapping paper on the floor and cold leftovers. Disheartening indeed.

Was I selfish? No. I would have given up any number of toys (though not the bike or the books "Heidi" and "Little Women" to have had a less 'perfect' Christmas and a more prayerful one.

So what do I think of Christmas now? How do I try to celebrate it with my children?I think it should be magical. I want to provide them with a joyous season filled with advent wreaths, cookie baking, and yes, gifts. I want to dance with them while listening to (and singing) Christmas carols in a flour-coated kitchen. I want to see the sheer anticipation in their eyes as they tear open a gift and play with the bow instead of the toy.

Am I going for a 'picture perfect' Christmas like my mother did? I don't even have the energy to try. But I do make a big deal about it. Because it's important.

I don't mind the hard work. I don't mind cleaning the kitchen several times in one day because of a baking frenzy. (I love baking!) I don't mind working alone in a kitchen for hours to provide a feast for my extended family. Do I care that some people do nothing and just show up for the food? Ladies, I don't even care if they show up late. It's not about me. They'll just have to eat cold food. But I DO care when people start complaining.

My husband asked if, with all of the hard work I did, I ever had the chance to think of the 'true meaning' of Christmas. I told him YES! I thanked God for the gifts of my children while I was wrapping their gifts. I praised God as I was preparing a huge meal because not only was the family together but we had plenty of food to eat. I did not take up a labor that I could not do joyously. Would I work so hard for so little recognition normally? Absolutely not. But for our Lord's birthday? How could I not celebrate?

Some things are important. We have to make a big deal about them. The wise men left their homes and followed a star. The shepherds left their sheep defenseless because they heard the angels rejoicing. We are the late-comers. We have had everything revealed to us. We know that Jesus was born for our redemption. Do you honestly think that I am going to let something so trivial as 'propriety' or a 'picture perfect Christmas' get in the way of my celebrating? Were I to hear angels proclaiming the coming of our Lord I would grab my children and dance in the streets. Until then I will continue to celebrate Christmas as if it were the dress rehearsal for the heavenly banquet.

Have a blessed Christmas season!

Mary's Song of Praise

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LgwAuycxxes&feature=related


Luke 1:46-55 NRSV


And Mary said,
'My soul magnifies the Lord,
and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant.
Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
for the Mighty One has done great things for me,
and holy is his name.
His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. 
He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, 
and lifted up the lowly;
he has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.
He has helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy,
according to the promise he made to our ancestors,
to Abraham and to his descendants for ever.'

Ladies, I love this passage of the bible. How are we, as women, wives, mothers, to emulate Mary? Many times Mary is shown as the perfection of humility. And she is. But what does this mean, practically speaking, to us? I am finding that every time I read (or sing) this passage that I learn something new. Each time I find something new about myself that keeps me from God.

So what does it mean to be humble and why is it so important? According to the Oxford English Dictionary 'humility' means:

noun

[mass noun]

• the quality of having a modest or low view of one’s importance:he needs the humility to accept that their way may be better
  

Ouch!  No wonder humility is not a virtue in our society. Don't we, as women, continue to be told that we are worthless or lesser because of our gender? So what gives? What makes Mary's humility different than the suppression of self-worth?

God found Mary worthy. Mary did not look to others to bolster her self-esteem. Neither did she go through life hard-headed and stubborn, confident in her own capabilities. She knew that she was small in comparison to the greatness of God. She knew that she was small in comparison to the greatness of her nation or the Roman empire. Yet God found her worthy. And she believed Him.

Mary had dreams and ambitions for herself. I'm sure she did. And her dream were probably small and humble, just as her life would have been had not God intervened. Yet she gave up even those to follow God's call in her life. Was it easy for her? Well, she was born without the taint of original sin so that must have helped. But I'm glad to have her as a model and guide. Because, Ladies, at times, I don't want to give things up - even for the greater glory of God. Sometimes (like now), I just want to be right and vindicated in my dislike of certain other people who, I assure you, deserve it.

But then there is that humility thing again. And, like Mary, I am challenged to admit that God's way is better than mine. To admit it, to have faith in it, to believe it, to live it. Ouch.

Unlike Mary, I am not called to greatness. But through the grace of God I can be called to something greater than myself. And who wouldn't jump at the chance to say "I was there! I was there and it was glorious!" Who wouldn't want to transcend one's own fears and weaknesses, secure in the knowledge that one is deemed worthy? What would it be like to not to have to prove one's inherent worth to one's self or to others? Not to have to argue or be right? What would it be like to be able to love, to be loved, all the time?  This is what it must be like for the saints in heaven.

Ladies, I will never be great. My name will never resound through the ages. I doubt I will ever be called 'blessed'. Well, not by anybody who knows me. (In fact, my son has taken to calling me "you mean old thing".) But I can choose, in the small mundanity that is my life, to say 'yes' to God. I can choose to be loving instead of being right. And through the grace of God, I may even transcend my own limitations. Isn't it worth the effort?

Sit Deus Nobis (May God Be With Us)