98 degrees of perspiration

  picture source: http://picture-book.com/taxonomy/term/486


Today the weather is going to be a wee bit warm. (cough!)  It makes me so thankful to be able to have air conditioning in our home. I feel for the folks down south, who are enduring heat waves, terrible storms, flooding, you name it. My heart and prayers go out to them.

I recently mentioned in a comment to one of my blog friends how I have had to limit my TV watching, after noticing how my stress level was greatly reduced during Lent, at which time we didn't put the box on all that much. Now as we are kind of back to watching again, I am still finding that not watching too much news is helpful. I hear it, but just enough to get the gist. It can be distressing and overwhelming. I figure, I can pray whether I know all the gory details, and preserve some peace, however little it may be. Even the weather channel can be too much!

But it does give some perspective for thankfulness. Paradoxically, the hotter the day, the more likely I am to feel chilly, as I more often can sequester myself to the house/car/store/church; all places with a/c blasting away.

Somehow the heat doesn't feel as bad when you know you can escape from it. There were many days when I couldn't. Many days, we lived in a walk up apartment with small children and babies. We figured out ways to cool off, but it was draining. This summer reminds me of the summer of 1991, when I was pregnant with Melissa. That year, we had a scorching summer, it started in early June. If you have even been pregnant, especially in summer, you know that your internal temp. can feel really high. Yes, I guess carrying around a human being encased in water is naturally a warmish affair. Cooling off is a task. I ate a lot of ice and took many showers. She was born smack in the middle of August. I then began the pattern of having a baby every other summer for the next four years. I suppose that means I reached pro status.

Rachael was born in 1993, and we lived on a quaint, beautiful little farm. Also an hour removed from the hospital, so, Rachael thought about being born in the car. Ben was born in 1995. We then lived in the same quaint little area, but in a not-at-all quaint trailer. It did have four bedrooms, one was actually a built on room, in which we installed an air conditioner. Ben was born mid-July, on my mother's birthday. It was during a heat wave with temps around 100 degrees. Ben was also my largest baby, at ten pounds four ounces. (Those last four ounces! ouch!) Being my sixth child and born into an even more stressful time than we had previously  known, poverty-wise and crazy- bad- emotional- situation-brought-on -by-then-husband-wise, these factors helped me decide to have an epidural. I had five times under my belt without, but hey , I thought, lets treat myself!  Naturally,I fell into the three percent that have the dura of the spinal cord nicked by the needle, and
was "treated" to the lovely phenomenon known as the Spinal Headache. Headache Schmedache. This was not in that category. I was okay as long as I could lie flat, and of course, what mother of six with a two day old infant can't lie flat on her back all the time? My eldest was actually away, so that left Daniel, then about six, to watch over the others and help me as much as he could.  I remember he made me hot dogs in the microwave. He was sweet then and still is.
But I would eventually have to get up. And oh boy, I would have fireworks go off in my head. Or a nuclear bomb. You never saw anybody hop in and out of the bathroom so fast. Remember now, this was July...heat wave..100 degrees...mother with bombs going off in her head....now let's add....ta da! A tornado! Yup.

The next night while we all were asleep in the one air conditioned room, I awoke to a shaking of the door and window. I had to all but cattle prod my husband awake to go and see what was going on. When he opened the door, I could feel the wind whip through, and see the other windows in the _trailer_ (yes, folks, the old Trailer in a Tornado Scenario) vibrating. Thank God, it passed quickly, and our little tin hovel stayed on the ground. But there was no power, and the heat did not break, storm or not. Here we were, in a super heated tin house, mom can't stand up, dad went to get gas, and drove around for hours trying to find some...ah! what fun. It was friends of ours,the Oylers, that came to the rescue. Took our entire family into their home, (their air conditioned home), fed us and treated us like royalty. Took all the kids to vacation bible school each day, got me to the hospital, where I got the nick repaired, and then nursed me for a few days. During this time, another dear lady, Martha Lair, went to our hot, incredibly messy trailer, cleaned it all up and did the laundry. All that, friends, was a huge blessing from God. Besides the situational crisis, my life then was a string of crises, as we were living something of a nightmare of emotional and sometimes physical abuse. The help of these dear friends was the breath of God in a barren wasteland.

So yes, these days I feel as privileged as a queen; jaunting about in our new car, coming home to our cool house, being able to write for you on our computer, traveling to see my daughter and her family~ so many things I would not have dreamed of in those rough years. A husband who loves me and all the kids, though he is not their biological father. Who retired from bachelorhood to help us and provide for us. Who lives what is many days the thankless life of a stepdad.  So thank you, honey. If you are not experiencing a ton of reward for all your efforts now, surely they will await you in heaven.

And, (okay now I feel like I am accepting an Academy Award),  I would like to thank God. Really! He has seen me through all manner of things; my guardian angel (thank you too!) must be exhausted and begging for retirement. The Lord has endured years of neglect, being snubbed, ignored, shunned, as well as fumbling attempts of faith and service. He was there from the beginning, preserving me in spite of myself, allowing the evil, but protecting me from its complete mastery and devastation. He has kept me, and my children, and is working miracles in us to this day. I am not thankful enough. I think I won't really be, until the next life.  I hope for myself, and all my family, to see Him, and really know all He did for us. And I hope, as I song I used to sing says, "that all our work be praise".

hooray-I can post again! and tell you how I met my husband. or ~ providence~

Whew! it's good to be back. I had a pesky computer bug that wouldn't allow me to post to my blog all week. The nerve! But my dear husband found a fix, and Ta Da! Here I am.

 Well, while I am on the subject of the DH, I think I will tell you the story of how we met. 

You may remember that I was song leader for the charismatic prayer group during the period of my conversion. This group held a mass a couple times a year in one of the neighborhood churches--the one Bob went to, turns out. He functioned there as a sacristan at times, among many other things. Of all the things that come to mind, I will be as charitable as possible and just say that he was a great help and support to the priest that served there at that time. The prayer group masses were always on a Tuesday evening, and Bob attended a few so as to keep Father from having to come over and close up. (Father was not terribly "into" the charismatic arm of the church. -again-Understatement- but he did allow us to meet at the church, so many thanks to him). Apparently, Bob had attended a time or two when I was there functioning as cantor for the mass, and "just happened to be there" one Tuesday in February 2005, and approached me after mass to offer his services as pianist "if I was interested".All the quotations are a little elbow to the ribs to point out that he was, in fact, coming to these masses because of his interest in me, as WELL as to close up for Father. This was not apparent to me as I took his number, written on the back of a number for a crisis pregnancy center. I was kind of used to being approached by people, (okay, men), that said they played guitar (didn't I already play guitar?), who frankly, seemed a bit to odd to want to work with. Plus, I have experience with people who say that they sing or play...and then....um, no. But, Bob seemed quite genuine, didn't play the same instrument I did, and the thought of having a piano appealed to me. 
 
So on a Sunday night a couple weeks later, I dug his number out of my purse while on the way home from doing a kid pick up in Delaware. Melissa and I went back and forth about what we thought his last name was, so when I called, I just asked for Bob. Again, I wasn't aware of any other agenda than the music, so when I asked if he remembered who I was, he apparently had a moment. We decided to get together to run through some music and see how it went ( he still refers to this as his "audition") on March 3rd. Needless to say, it went well. Even on the little toy keyboard, I could tell he really did know how to play, and he was such a darn nice guy! 


And so the story goes--we had a lovely courtship, under the counsel of our favorite Augustinian priest-Father Terry-- Bob, crediting St. Augustine to his return to the Church, me, being a parishioner of Saint Monica Church--well, it all fit so nicely. We married on May 13th (first day of the appearances of our Lady at Fatima).  Our mentor and friend, Father Terry, died on October 13th. (the last of the Fatima appearances). We were his last wedding; we were told he had our wedding picture on his nightstand.

 I have been asked occasionally about our Augustinian devotion. I haven't researched the daylights out of it- but what I have learned about Saint Augustine, is that he was a thinker and a lover. To read his writings, one has to really dig in, it is not your average novelette. He is a Father and Doctor of the Church, and his writings shaped the Church's very foundations. But he was also filled to overflowing with the love of Christ, illustrated by his famous exclamation, "Late have I loved you, O Beauty ever ancient, ever new." It was Father Terry's love that taught us more about Christ and the church than anything else. While waiting to confess, we would often hear laughter wafting out of Father Terry's station. His viewing at Villanova was attended by scores of Augustinian Friars, some of which shared funny and heartwarming memories. They were a joyful lot, all radiating that same peace and good humor we remember of Father Terry, despite all his illnesses and setbacks. So those are my thoughts on that.

 Bob and I are approaching our fifth wedding anniversary. My seven kids became his step kids and he has loved and cared for them valiantly through thick and thin. Mostly thick, I think. We love to play music, we are active in the pro life movement-with a group called Helpers of God's Precious Infants, which  incidentally, he was a member of for some years before I met him. (remember the crisis pregnancy card with his phone number?) We know that we are blessed, even through the struggles, with the many gifts the Lord had given us. We hope to continue to be faithful and grow in Him and serve Him well all the rest of our days.