Learning the Virtues Bit by Bit

Two of my favorite things are books and Catholicism. I love to read, and I love to read about my faith, to grow and to learn, all with the end goal of coming closer to God in all I do. The problem is that I don't have much time, and I don't have much money. So, you can imagine my excitement when I discovered that as a blogger with followers (thank you friends!)I could sign up to become a product reviewer for a wonderful little mail order business called The Catholic Company. It's blessedly simple. I sign up, select a product available for review and then they send it to me with the understanding that I will read it and share with you my honest opinion of the product. I can't think of a more perfect program! I do love to share my thoughts, and so I present to you my humble opinion of The Virtues, a collection of teachings from Pope Benedict XVI on the Christian virtues.

The book itself is a beautiful, small, hardcover book which makes it easy to transport in a medium-sized purse or to keep in your car or on your bedside table (or even in the bathroom if that is the only place you can find two minutes of peace and quiet). The book is perfect for busy people, especially mothers, because it is broken up into small bits, perfect for reading and studying in the small moments of peace that are surely more abundant than the lengthy periods of quiet needed for thoughtful discernment. Each chapter is devoted to one of the virtues, and the editor has pulled from the Holy Father's speeches, writings, and teachings the best and most thought-provoking of words relating to the specific virtue at hand. This lends itself to two types of uses: the first is just to pick it up, open it, read the first passage on which your eyes fall, and then stop to consider how that material applies to your life or someone you know. This consideration might lead you to prayer, which you can indulge in until someone knocks on the bathroom door demanding justice for the sibling who breathed his air, or until soccer practice ends and it's time to head home. However, in the spirit of being a contemplative in action, it's possible to still chew on the Holy Father's inspired words while driving or mediating while going about your work until the next quiet moment presents itself. The other way the book can be used is to look purposefully look up and investigate Pope Benedict's thoughts on a certain virtue and pursue growth and knowledge in that virtue. For instance, in the moments between breakfast and the bus arriving, I might quickly look up the virtue of prudence, read what the Holy Father has to say about children and the media, and inform the children that Rome backs me up regarding the crassness of most tween-themed shows, for the Pope writes, "Media education should be positive. Children exposed to what is aesthetically and morally excellent are helped to develop appreciation, prudence, and the skills of discernment. Here it is important to recognize the fundamental value of parents' example and the benefits of introducing young people to children's classics in literature, to the fine arts, and to uplifting music...Beauty, a kind of mirror to the divine, inspires and vivifies young hearts and minds, while ugliness and coarseness have a depressing impact on attitudes and behavior." By now the children
's eyes will have surely glossed over, but you can simply interpret the Holy Father's wisdom by saying, "See, the Pope says Katy Perry videos and too many Disney shows can bring you down. Just like I said. Now turn off the t.v. and get ready for school!"

All humor aside, I really do feel this book would make a great gift for the busy mothers on your list. We don't have time to read and digest the Pope's encyclicals or homilies, no matter how strong our desire may be. In this work Jacquelyn Lindsey, the editor, has done all the hard work for us, distilling out the best, most spiritually nourishing nuggets that we can grow on. Buy it.

You Can't always Please the People

One of the hardest things about parenting is being happy in the midst of unhappiness. when the kids are whining and crying about having to do chores or turning off the television, I hesitate and consider giving in. Life is so much more pleasant when everyone is happily occupied and entertained - on the surface anyway and in the short term. After all, the only thing I am teaching my children by letting them satisfy their impulsive desires is that waiting, working, hoping and praying are for naught. And in the long run, we grownups know that that is the only way to true happiness. It's hard to remember that by adhering to the time limits I set for media, sticking to chore schedules and setting a standard for results I am giving them the keys to long term happiness and satisfaction in their lives, and lighting up their path to heaven.

My husband, the veteran high school teacher, thrives off the whining and complaining. "If the troops are complaining, I'm doing my job!" he says. But as a people-pleaser, I struggle with it. If the people are not happy I assume I am not doing my job well. and if I am doing all that I can to please people, or at least take care of their basic needs, and they are STILL complaining, well then I get angry. And soon enough, I am complaining too - complaining about their complaining. It's a vicious cycle.

In my quieter moments I have reflected on this and the fact has occurred to me that this is often how God must feel. He gives us all we need, some of what we want, and still we are not happy. We complain. We cry. We gnash our teeth and beat our breasts. Does he ever just throw up His hands and head out the door to the library (or the chapel, the coffee shop, the open road, the bottom of the basement steps...) where he can find some peace, like I do? I know He must, because I often find Him there. Except I know instead of seeking His own solace, he is waiting there to comfort me, to refresh me, to encourage me, and then to send me home ready to face the troops again.

In Memoriam

This blog is dedicated to the memory of my beloved sister Erin, who suddenly passed away on April 28, 2011 from complications resulting from Lyme disease.

I am writing this now because I was unable to stand up at her funeral and speak about her life. I regret that now. Here was a girl who felt unloved her whole life and I didn’t have enough courage to overcome my own emotions of shock and anger and loss, to face my sorrow and deliver a proper eulogy. At the time I was struggling with my own complicated emotions. It seemed somehow dishonest to get up there and speak only of her love for gardening, yoga, the color purple, purple jelly shoes (see photo above) and “Walking on Sunshine” by Katrina and the Waves; how she was a gifted athlete and had a talent for fashion that could take your breath away, and always treasured, of all things, a box of buttons collected by my Grandma Bette – and not to speak of the many ways she could drive me insane, drive me tears, and drive me to depression. On top of all that, I was certain that I didn't know all there was to know about her. I was sure she had friends who knew more and different things about the person she was. And I was angry about that. She was my sister and I should have known her best. And now my chance was gone.

There were only two of us. We were always jealous of each other but too kind to speak of it, not trusting the other to understand or to have compassion. The greatest of our shared memories were painful ones, and being together only reminded us of the suffering we longed to escape as children. I don’t think she ever understood that about me – I pushed her away because being with her only reminded me that my family was dysfunctional. She always thought I was pushing her away because of who she was. Well, I hope in heaven she knows the truth of my heart. In my own self-centered way I was only doing the best I could do.

I try to picture her last day alive – getting her antibiotics in the mail, texting our mother about it, calling her best friend to see if she was weathering the storms with her twins both inside the house and out. She laid down for a nap, perhaps fitfully. Did she dream of heaven – a place where she would no longer feel pain, or sorrow, or exhaustion?

She rose to dress and put on something funky and stylish, something off the thrift store racks where she shopped with abandon and delight.

And then – gone.

As Sirius Black from the Harry Potter books suggests, perhaps dying for her was, “Quicker than falling asleep.” Perhaps, groggy from her nap, she never truly awakened before she fell asleep forever – no longer to suffer in body and spirit the ravages of this life. I hope that this is true. For in her life she suffered enough. She deserved to have a painless death.

So long my beloved sister. In Heaven, may the peace of Christ be yours. May you know for certain that you are beautiful, that you are God’s, and that you were and are, always, loved.