Life in a Small Town

The other night I spent a good amount of time reading some older posts on this blog. While it lifted my spirits to read about so many happy memories, the tone of my writing was striking to me. I can read between the lines that there was a simplicity to my life when I first started my blog that no longer exists. My writings seem the be light and cheerful. Life feels heavier now than it did back then. Maybe it's the increase of work with four children as opposed to two, or maybe it's the crosses I have been called to carry, but life is definitely heavier now than it was four years ago.

We are living in a very small town for eight months. Actually we are almost to the end of those eight months and I have written very little about them. When we moved to a small town, I expected something like in the movies where everyone is  kind and warm and inviting.  I was worried that at the end of the eight months there would be another round of painful goodbyes, but I was determined not to let that keep us from making friends. Now that we are almost to the end, I can honestly say there is not one person to say goodbye to. The small town has let me down. People were very friendly when we first moved here, but it was almost like no one needed anyone else. Like because everyone has been here forever, they have their little communities in place and have no need for one more person. I was all but shunned from the homeschooling co-op, and not once were we invited anywhere but to a protestant church. The silver lining in it all is that I have definitely learned that I prefer to live near a bigger city. It's a good thing to know about oneself.

We bought a house last month. It's out in the country and on five acres. We moved away from family and friends back to Oklahoma to pursue this "land and farm" lifestyle that we know very little about. I can feel that God's hand has been in every part of getting us here, and I know that owning land and having animals has been on both Max and my heart for a very long time. On the normal day where I'm stuck in this 1200 square foot home with none of my own things while the kids go crazy (literally) and I don't have a friend in sight, the faith that we are in the heart of God's will is the only thing that keeps me going. It's strange how we can be hurting and lonely and not necessarily the happiest we have ever been and still know that we are doing His will. What a grace and comfort this is.

These past months have stretched me in ways I haven't been stretched before and I thank God for that. In all the things I have experienced in life (which isn't a ton), I have never really been lonely. But here I am lonely. The few friends I do have live an hour and a half away and my kids aren't in any activities that would foster new friendships. Christ was lonely. All His friends left him in His time of greatest need. And if He was lonely, I can be lonely. This small town cross I have been asked to carry is really small in the grand scheme of things. But even the smallest crosses can be carried with great love if we let Him lead us.

Moments

I'm laying on the living room floor checking the news on my phone and my littlest daughter is walking all around me. I don't see her, I'm too into the news. Then I lay my phone down and watch her dancing around the floor, wondering how many of these moments I have missed. How many more moments I will miss because of the phone in my hand.

It took me a long time to get a smartphone. I waited as long as I could, but when we moved, and I knew no one and was trying to navigate around a new place without any direction, facetime and google maps seemed more important than my prior convictions. I don't hate the phone. I actually really like it in a lot of ways. I used to look at people with smartphones in their hands in public places and get mad and angry that they weren't present to those around them. While I do my best to keep my phone away while others are present, I now understand how easy it is to quickly "check something".

The thing is, I'm sure that this "checking" stuff, is never more important than the people right in front of us. How can a news article, facebook, the weather or a text possibly compare to the person right in front of us? Especially when that person is my own child, wanting nothing more than my attention.

Life is really nothing more than thousands upon thousands of tiny moments strung together in a web of memories. My fear is that, in the very short time I have had a smartphone, I have already given too many of these moments away. I have looked at a screen instead of into a child's eyes. I have mindlessly wandered around my phone instead of reading a story or talking to my kids.

I have thought about this so much: why do I want to be on the phone? The simple answer is, mental laziness. It's so much easier to read an article or scroll through Facebook instead of sit with my own thoughts. I used to think and pray as I nursed the baby to bed every night. Now, most of that time is spent looking at my phone. We used to have these moments all the time before smartphones took over the world. A quick trip up an elevator. waiting in the grocery line, sitting in the car waiting for kids, waiting in the doctors office, going to the bathroom. All of these were short spurts of time where our mind could go blank and just think for two seconds without being bombarded with a million other things. What if these small moments are actually really important and we're just throwing them away on a screen? There is something I am learning quickly about having a smartphone: If you aren't intentional about the way you use it, it can steel a lifetime of moments from you. It can make those people right  in front of your eyes feel unimportant and ignored.

So why do I keep my smartphone after this rant? I've thought long and hard about this one, and here is the truth (at least for now). I believe when my kids are older, there will be no simple phones left. I believe I have somewhat of a moral obligation to teach my kids that this tool of their generation can be used responsibly and well. For me that means putting the phone away during homeschooling, and other one on one time with the kids. It means leaving it in the car when we go on picnics. Turning it off when I know I can't ignore a text. It means leaving it in the living room when I put the baby to bed at night. It means always being present and aware of those around me. It means getting rid of it if I can't do these things.  I refuse to have my kids memories consist of fighting for my attention over a phone. I refuse to let it steal these precious and fleeting moments.

Salt

The days are good in my home, but it seems in many of my friends homes, that life is falling apart. There is no doubt in my mind that Satan is very hungry for one thing right now: families. Your family. My family. Some people I know are going through some very very hard times. Harder than I could ever imagine because, to be honest, my life is pretty perfect. It may not always be this way, but that's not today.

This morning while doing dishes I was praying for all these people, one by one, my friends that are each hurting so bad in so many different ways. I was thinking about how much humility it takes to be a Christian. Many of us go to Mass on Sunday, proclaim we love Christ, but can't manage to be kind or loving to the people nearest us. We can sit and pray and read the Bible, but when given an opportunity for humility, to let ourselves be pressed beneath our cross like Christ, we cry out in pride that it's just not fair; that we deserve better. That if X, Y and Z would just change, our lives would be perfect. I was meditating on how if we all lived like we were supposed to, the world would be a different place. As St. Theresa puts it, "When we are who we are called to be, we will set the world ablaze".

Then I started thinking about salt. "You are the salt of the earth. But what good is salt if it has lost its flavor? Can you make it salty again? It will be thrown out and trampled underfoot as worthless". (Matthew 5:13)

Too call something too salty is an insult. It's a ruined dish when all one can taste is the salt of it. On the other hand, if there is no salt in a dish, it is considered bland and without flavor. Salt is never the spice anyone comments on in a dish, but is the main ingredient needed to pull all flavors together. It is the necessary ingredient that never gets noticed. Salt is humble. I think we Christians have a spice problem right now. Either we are too salty and overpower the souls of this world by yelling in their face about all that is wrong, or we have lost our flavor all together and lie in our lukewarmness, too scared to be who we were created to be. To be salt takes a lot of humility.

Christ never states that we should seek comfort in this world; that we should make sure we are being treated right by others and getting just recognition for our good works. He never promises happiness in this life. Instead Christ calls us to take up our cross and follow Him; to forget ourselves, to treat others the way we want to be treated not the way we will be treated. If we spend even one moment contemplating the Passion of our Lord, all of life's questions seemed to be answered. We will know instantly how hard it is to truly be Christlike. Not just on Sundays, but in every day to every person we meet, and most importantly to our family. How many of us can get along with everyone around us, but struggle to practice our Christ-likeness to the most special and important people God has placed in our lives? It's me everyday. I proclaim Hallelujah on Sunday and yell at my children on Monday morning. I tell Jesus I want to follow Him and become a saint, but fail to stand up for my faith to an unbeliever. I ask for the virtue of humility, but when given the opportunity to practice it, decide it's easier to "stand up for myself" and make sure I get the recognition that is "due" to me for the work I do. I fall. But our loving God has shown us through his Passion how to get up. In humility, without grumbling and complaining and looking on to the task ahead.

This holy week I pray to be more salt-like. To serve without expecting anything in return. To be the unnoticed one who brings out the best in others and shines the light of Christ through her.

Real Thoughts

Usually when I write I have sort of themed posts; something I have been thinking of for a while, and decide to write about. Today I just want to share some random real thoughts I have been having lately.

1. Two has got to be the most interesting age to watch unfold. I'm not talking about the kid, I'm talking about kids parents. I've watched at least a dozen times since my child turned two, parents give in to their children after fit throwing a whining. Not to say I've never done this, but I like to think that I'm the boss of my kid, not the other way around.

2. I watched today as my son imitated me in his speech and demeanor after I got annoyed with my husband and bickered at him. It hit me then that it's not in really big things that you mess up as a parent, but in the little, everyday things. I think kids can especially get screwed up when we don't treat our spouse with charity. This is where I fail as an example to my children and a wife to my husband. I'm quick to snap. Must pray harder.

3. I met a really great group of Catholic women this week (the Lord gaveth!). They go out once a month for a "Mommy's night out". Of course it has to be on a Tuesday, the day my husband has night school. Did I mention how much I hate my husband going to night school. I hate my husband going to night school.

4. We are trying to change the way we eat around here. It's overwhelming thinking of all the changes that need to be made. I bought a Vitamix thinking it would help us eat more whole foods. I had to have it in red, so I have to wait ten days for it to get here. It's been a loooong ten days.

5. Every night I go to bed feeling a little guilty about what I fed my son for the day. So many people say, "only feed him healthy foods and don't worry about his weight" and others say, "just feed him whatever will put the weight on him (i.e. sugary foods). I have been dealing with this issue for a year and a half now and I am worn out. Can you hook a two year old up to a feeding tube?

6. Miss Belle is already crawling (well, army crawling) and can get into everything. Where did my few months of peace and immobility go? 5 month olds are not supposed to crawl.

7. I'm thinking we, as a family, may need to start going to The Latin Mass. In these times of trial and change, I don't know how much more liturgical abuse and lack of community I can take. I find it funny that all these Novus Ordo churches (for those who aren't Catholic, those are churches who use the new mass, not the Latin) are so focused on community, but when I want real community and real friendships I need to go to a Latin Mass where the entire focus is solely on Christ. Valerie, if you are reading this, you were right.

8. We have been waiting for Peanut to start talking for quite some time. Now that he has, I'm not sure I like it. I told him we would go to the park today when his daddy got home. As soon as my husband walked in the door I had to listen to "Park, Park Park, Park, Park" for 30 minutes straight. I guess God wants me to have more patience. I think they should use two year olds for torture interrogation methods.