When People Don't Do What I Think They Should: Or, the Log in My Own Eye

Okay, that title is a bit verbose, but it reminds me of titles of novels in my Eighteenth Century British Lit class, so I'm just gonna roll with it.

Lately, I've noticed a lot of suffering in my little corner of the world.  Winter seems to be a "time to die" and many I know have lost loved ones this month.  Others struggle with relationships with family members.  Spouses forget the strength of their sacrament and when God is not the center of their relationship, the marriage suffers discord, some ending in divorce.  Parents argue with children who question the faith of their parents.  Children who are faithful to the Church lament their parents' lack of faith.  Cabin fever sets in, and even the most loving families start bickering and snapping at seemingly insignificant "injustices."

In my hypocritical little mind, I start thinking, "Why doesn't he just...." and "If only she would....they would be so much better off."  All the while, I'm snapping at my own family and complaining and whining about "stuff and nonsense."

What's a Christian to do?  Listen to our Lord!  We must remove the log in our own eye before we can help our brother notice the speck in his eye.  And identifying that speck must not be a self-righteous act.  That speck should only be noted in love and preferably at the request of our brother.

My youngest is preparing for First Confession, and our Catholic Heritage Curricula lesson plans recommend that the parents read sections of Fr. Leo J. Trese's The Faith Explained in preparation for instructing the children.  This little book has deeply enhanced my understanding of the sacraments.  The chapter on confession gives the formula for confession, but also goes into detail about the results of a good confession.  Of particular note is the following passage regarding "our reluctance to confess an ignoble deed":

The priest is not sitting self-righteously on the other side of the screen, ready to cluck his tongue at our misdeeds.  He is human, too.  He has to go to confession, too. Instead of despising us for what we have to tell, he admires the humility with which we have overcome our embarrassment.  The bigger the sin, the happier is the priest in the knowledge or our repentance.  If the priest should happen to know who the penitent is, his regard for the person will not decrease; on the contrary, his regard will be the greater because of the trust and confidence which the penitent has shown his confessor. (459)

At our baptism, we are called to be "priest, prophet, and king."  We, as non-ordained Catholics are not called to administer the Sacrament of Penance; however, we can remember the disposition of the priest Fr. Trese describes and share in it.  We do not sit in judgment over our brothers and sisters--that's God's job!  Our job is to pray for our brothers and sisters to find God in their lives and in one another.  We should despise sins, but we should love the sinner, especially when they seek forgiveness.

As for the log in our own eye, the easiest way to remove it is through regular confession.  Performing a daily examination of conscience, not to dwell on our sins in a scrupulous manner but to recognize them and ask the Lord's forgiveness, will make us mindful of our faults so we can work harder to avoid them in the future.  Confessing those faults and failings to a priest through the Sacrament of Confession cleanses us of our sinfulness and gives us the grace we need to live a Christian life.  Finally, when we recognize that our sinfulness has injured another, we ought to seek the forgiveness of that individual.

Dear Heavenly Father,

Thank you for the gift of my family.  Thank you for the gift of my friends whom I love as family.  Thank you for the gift of your Holy Church.  Thank you especially for your Mercy and Love, shown so substantially in the Sacraments of Confession and Communion.  Thank you for the Gifts of Your Holy Spirit, particularly for the Wisdom to recognize the log in my own eye and to not worry so much about those moments when people don't do what I think they should do.  I pray for them to do Your Holy Will, which is far better than anything I could ever hope for them.

Amen.

Changes and Tears

I just sent a message to my dean at the community college to let her know I'm not planning to teach the summer session this year.  I planned to take the summer off last year, too, but ended up teaching.  I received the "Teaching Availability Form" yesterday that has the same sentence as the form last year, "If not returned by this date, we will assume that you do not wish to teach this semester."  I tossed the form in the recycling bin last year because I thought it was time to take the summer off--after all, isn't that one of the perks of teaching?  In most of my years as a work-at-home mom (I teach distance education courses), I have worked throughout the summer, in spite of saying every February and March that my plan is to have fun with the kids and work in the garden all summer long.

Even though the form promised otherwise, my neglect to send any communication regarding my teaching preferences landed me a distance education summer session.   I know that the distance courses fill up first and I felt duty-bound to accept the course and not leave the college without a section for eager freshman composition students.

My youngest will be 8 at the end of summer.  I've worked every summer since he was born--it's time for my sabbatical!  Instead of assuming that the absence of a form would guarantee my break, I put the message in writing today that I'm taking off this summer.  I started to elaborate, and got teary-eyed.  I deleted the extra details and decided to leave it at "I'm taking this summer off."

So, why now?  I have a few reasons.  The first four are my children.  My oldest started attending a public high school this fall after several years of homeschooling.  He will be a senior in the fall, and when I write those words my eyes fill with tears.  I can't believe it will be our last summer before "The Summer before College."  My only daughter has opted to attend the big public high school (2000 students!) next fall as a freshman after 6 years of homeschooling.  My sixth grader may be going to the same 6-12 grade Magnet School that my oldest son attends.  That will leave my 2nd grader at home with just me for the first time since he was a toddler.  The older children started homeschooling when he turned two.  We'll have a different sort of empty nest in September.

I don't imagine that the kids will want to hang out with me all day every day this summer, but I want to have the flexibility to get up and take off with the kids to the park or the beach or to hang out and watch a movie in the air conditioning on a hot, rainy July day without worrying that I have papers to grade and emails to answer.

Next school year will be full of changes, but I'm hoping the memories of a summer full of love and togetherness will make the transition smoother for all of us.

One Week Down....

Here we are, one week into Lent.  How's everyone doing?  So far, I have been tempted to look at Facebook, but not deeply.  I'm curious about what people are up to and if they've posted anything funny or intriguing.  However, I have successfully avoided logging in for a week.

Unfortunately, my hope to be more in tune and focused on my work as a result of giving up Facebook hasn't really happened yet.  I'm still behind in my grading.  A former classmate had an expression that suits grading essays: "It takes longer than it does."  I plan to finish a certain number of essays in an hour, and it never happens.  I'm perpetually behind.  I wonder if I give too many assignments, or if I should make more of them pass/fail.  Then, at the end of the semester, the students who "get it" specifically mention the usefulness of the progression of assignments, and I know that I'm doing something right.  I'm not the quickest professor in terms of returning graded work, but my students should be able to recognize two things:

1. I actually read what they write
2. I care about helping them improve their writing skills

In the end, that's really what my job is all about, so I need to stop whining about all the essays I need to grade and get it done.

The most important thing in Lent is not succeeding at a particular fast.  The most important thing is letting God take control and listening to his plan for us.  My intentions for the Facebook Fast are pure.  I want to pay better attention to the needs of my family and to be a better teacher.  I believe these motives are in line with God's will.  Therefore, I will continue my fast and pray that God uses my little sacrifice to mold me into the wife, mother, and teacher he wants me to be.

Facebook Fast

For the last two years, several of my Facebook friends have "given up" Facebook for Lent.  Some did the whole stretch from Ash Wednesday until Holy Saturday, coming back to say "Happy Easter!"  Others checked in on Sundays throughout Lent, which are not counted in the 40 Days.

Recently, I've noticed that completing my work has been very difficult.  As I've mentioned on this blog before, I'm easily distracted.  Since I teach distance education English classes, my work is all online.  I connect to my students through Blackboard and grade their papers on the computer.  When I open my internet browser, Facebook was not a home page for me, but it was a button on my browser bookmark bar that always showed at the top of the screen, calling me to check in no fewer than 10 times a day.

What could be so urgent?  I would scroll through the cute pictures, follow links to interesting articles, keep abreast of what was happening in my friends lives, all the while neglecting my work.  If my kids came down the hall, I'd feel like I got caught with my hand in the cookie jar.  I wasn't doing anything wrong but I still felt guilty.  The minutes and hours I could be spending on grading papers, cleaning my house, and most importantly, reading to and doing school with my children were being frittered away on Facebook.  The first step to recovery in any addiction program is for the addict to admit she has a problem.  However, we know that ultimately any exposure to the object of the addiction is detrimental.  I clearly have a Facebook problem. The question, though, is whether it's an addiction.

I've decided to refrain from Facebook for all of Lent, even Sundays.  I love the connectedness Facebook provides.  The quick delivery of information about events and the needs of my friends is of clear value.  However, unplugging and focusing on the people in my life seems to be where the Lord is calling me this Lent.  I pray that this time away will give me perspective and better control of my internet usage.  Information, like every tool, is a gift from God. Our usage of those gifts must be in conformity with God's will for us, which will always be accompanied by peace.  If Facebook makes you look over your shoulder like a kid with her hand in the cookie jar, clearly peace is not with your use of the gift.

Dear Lord, 

Please grant me the gift of Wisdom to recognize your will for me this Lent.  

Amen.

Snow Storm Reflection

We just shoveled out from the storm, but clearly the impact of two feet of snow goes far beyond our driveway.  A neighbor with a plow plowed part of our street and sections of the other roads that lead out of the neighborhood.  He didn't have a big truck, so the sections he completed were quite challenging.  He got stuck at least once, just after clearing half of the bottom of our driveway, so Mike helped him get unstuck.  At the same time, a car came part way down the road, turned around, waited, and then went back past the stuck truck.

Once we finished shoveling, I took a short walk to check out the streets close to us.  What a mess!  The plows have not done the neighborhood yet, so spots here and there are clear, but no long stretches of road.  I saw the man in the car again.  A few minutes later he was parked in the middle of the next street where he got out and began to shovel the middle of the road.  I approached and asked where he lived.  He lived probably 6 houses down, but couldn't get through anywhere because the plowing that was completed stopped short of giving him clear passage.  I offered for him to park in our now clear driveway and walk home, which he seemed to appreciate, but he was determined to make it through with his shovel.  He mentioned that he'd been up for 30 hours and needed to get some sleep before going back to work again.  I again offered the driveway and headed home.

I walked back to my street where I saw another neighbor shoveling alone.  The young woman said her mother couldn't help because she was in the house, sick.  I told her we were all tired from doing our drive, but if she didn't need to go anywhere today, we'd come back and give her a hand later.

For the past few days, I've been anticipating the storm.  I knew we needed to be prepared for the possibility of power outages and that we should have adequate food on hand for our family of 6.  I knew that I should grade papers and do as much work as I could for my online English classes in case the power went out and I couldn't work.

We don't know what's next now that the storm has passed--can we make it to Mass?  Can we make it to celebrate my niece's birthday tomorrow?  I just don't know.  Times like this remind me how little control I have in the grand scheme of things.  God is in control.

Storms--both real and metaphorical--help us grow.  Real storms remind us to take care of the important things, particularly our families and our neighbors.  We get out of our snug, warm comfort zones and interact with the world when we'd rather hibernate until April.  We face the challenge of shoveling 2 feet of snow and making a clear path from all exits of the house to make sure we can get out safely in an emergency.  We face the stormy winds whipping the snow back in our faces and the aching muscles and cold skin.  Then, we face it again when we realize our neighbor can't be safe unless we help her, too.

Nobody is excited about the work of cleaning up after the storm.  But nobody seems to complain too much either.  We just do what needs to get done.  When summer rolls around, I will remember the cold New England days, talking to neighbors after storms when we rake roofs, shovel driveways, and muddle through together. Storms create deeper bonds than easy days.

I've been dreaming of gardening for the past few weeks.  As I cleared a path from the back door of the kitchen to the back door of the garage, I realized it will be a while before I'm digging the earth and planting seeds.  However, this snow is good.  God created the seasons, and a good snowy winter may mean less of a drought this summer.  We did talk of moving to Florida while we shoveled and how nice it would be to live somewhere warmer.  But, of course, Florida has hurricanes which seem a lot harder to handle than snow. No region of the earth is perfect--we won't know perfection until we reach heaven.

God gives each of us our storms to weather.  When we remember he is in charge and some of what we want will have to wait or change in order to make it through those storms, we become the people he wants us to be.

Don't Be Depressed

As though someone wants to be depressed!  For anyone who has struggled with depression, it's likely they've been told to "Suck it up and move on," or "Get over it," or "Don't be so gloomy."  Easier said than done!  If you have never struggled with depression, you probably don't get it, just as I don't get what it's like to suffer from cancer or diabetes or another physical ailment I haven't suffered.  The difference with physical ailments is that they have physical symptoms that are recognizable to others.  Depression can certainly present physical symptoms, but the source for the symptoms is a reaction to what's going on in the brain.

As Catholics, we particularly struggle when we are presented with the sad situation of suicide.  Suicide is a result of despair.  How can we prevent or cure despair in the depressed individual?  Much like an addiction, the depressed individual must acknowledge a problem and seek help.  During high school and college, I had begun to despair and contemplate suicide.  If I'd been more savvy about what pills to take, I may not be here today.  Thank God for my ignorance!  I realized I had a problem and went to the doctor. At one point I admitted myself to the psychiatric ward at the hospital, but after an hour or so in the room, hearing the shouts and confused words of the others on the floor, told me I was not where I needed to be.  My doctor said I could be released since I was self-admitted, but I must promise not to hurt myself.  I promised.

When I left the hospital, I knew that wasn't the end of the depression.  I sought the help of a psychiatrist and took anti-depressants.  They helped some, but the most significant help I received was when I went to a Dominican rectory and knocked on the door.  An older priest came to the door.  I told him I wanted to die.  His kind eyes looked deeply into mine and he invited me into the rectory.  We sat and talked for a short time.  He gathered some helpful articles for me to read.  He reminded me that suicide is final and that God didn't want that for me.  He, too, asked me to promise that I would not harm myself.  Again, I promised.

A woman is only as good as her word!  Those promises kept me alive.  I don't remember the Dominican priest's name, but he more than anyone else saved my life.

One of my Facebook friends just lost a friend to suicide, a young man who had suffered with depression.  There are no easy answers.  We cannot turn back time and talk him out of it.  We cannot erase the sadness, anger, and broken hearts of the survivors.  We can only pray for his soul and for those of his family and friends who are left with memories and questions.

If you have come to my blog in search of answers for your depression, I'm not a professional, but I have a message of hope for you.  Talk to a priest--even if you aren't Catholic (yet!).  Our priests are well-trained in counseling and have much to offer in guiding you to the help you need.  Find a friend or family member who doesn't tell you to "get over it"--someone you can confide in if you suffer despair.  Then promise them you'll never hurt yourself.  Talk to them when you need to.  Keep a journal.  Sometimes writing about the things that trouble us takes the load off our minds and we can gain perspective and peace.

Most importantly, pray.  This morning as I read "Thursday, February 7, Prayer for the Morning" in Magnificat, the reflection introducing Psalm 42 said, "The psalm reflects the shifting moods of down-heartedness, questioning, and confident joy that can affect the committed believer in the face of questions and taunts of a disbelieving world.  Yet the tears and torrents of discouragement have no power over the waters of life with which God's love renews us." Today's selection begins: "Like the deer that yearns/for running streams,/so my soul is yearning/for you my God." The psalmist goes on to question where God is in my life and to say, "My tears have become my bread,/by night, by day." Yet through the suffering and despair, he concludes:

I will say to God, my rock:/"Why have you forgotten me?/Why do I go mourning/oppressed by the foe?"/Why are you cast down my soul,/why groan within me?/Hope in God; I will praise him still,/my savior and my God. (Psalm 42:10-12, emphasis added))

  Words for a new day!

If you are in crisis, please contact the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (8255).  They also have a "Click to Chat" option on the website.