Be careful what you pray for...

I was just telling a friend of mine who lives in North Carolina about how I have recently been experiencing God's hand in many areas of my life lately.

Our (well, MY) desire to move to the Pine Tree State has been in my soul since the moment I crossed the state's border 13 years ago on a trip to Bar Harbor with my husband. We were "roughing it" and going to camp for the week. This is a really funny story that I will save for another time. We saw so many truly beautiful sites and what struck me the most was the clean, clear air; the deep blue skies and the rustic, almost forbidden rocky coastline. Then there was the lobster. Oh the fresh lobster from the Trenton Bridge Lobster pound which we took back to our tent and "grilled" over an open campfire and dunked in warm melted butter. My taste buds practically jumped out of my mouth saying to me, "Where have you been hiding us all these years?" I think there are just some places that get into your soul and never leave. It's different for different people; some people it just never happens to as they are just contented to stay put and live out there lives in the every day of it all. I have never been one of those people, try as I may to conform, my spirit has always been, well pioneering if that is the right word.

I only ever remember moving three times as a child. One from a small row home in a suburb of New Jersey where Fourth of July parades are a huge event and kids trick-or-treating goes on for hours and hours; a place where everyone knows everyone and if you are ever in need all you need to do is walk next door (or shout from your open window!). We moved from our row home to a single family home on the other side of the same town. Life was good. Childhood was good. We moved once more when I was about 12 to a much more rural setting. A culture shock indeed. Instead of walking to the grocery store or the corner store for lunch meat now we had to pile in the car and drive almost a half hour to grocery shop. Three moves in my "formidable years". Though I did, however, switch schools in almost every grade. I counted once and came up with 7 different schools from Kindergarden to my senior year. Sometimes we were pulled out at the end of the year, sometimes it was mid-year; each time it required a skill for making new friends quickly and fitting in became an art in and of itself. Perhaps that is why I cherish faithful, loyal friends in my adult years.

From then - after graduation and the death of my father - I moved 19 times in five years. I lived in many different states including New York, Delaware, North Carolina (shutter), New Jersey and Ohio. It never occurred to me that a move is a major deal. I just desired to go and I did. Of course I wasn't married at the time nor did I have children to tow along. I was very adventurous. I traveled to many places like Canada, Mexico, the Pocono Mountains, the Keys in Florida, Seattle, Chicago, Columbus Ohio, Washington DC, Baltimore, Blue Ridge Mountains in West Virginia, Shenandoah Valley of Virginia, Lake Placid NY, Massachusetts, Myrtle Beach SC; I could probably go on, but the point is none of these places ever really got into my soul the way that Maine has rooted itself in my heart.

So now that I am married with a family and well, roots here in NJ, the decision to follow that adventurous spirit is much more difficult because it affects more than just my life. It took years of discerning and dreaming and praying to figure out if a move would make a better way of life than what we have here. Adventurous spirit aside, it's difficult to make a living here in NJ.

A long time ago I began to pray a certain prayer to Our Lord. This was VERY difficult for me because it was asking Our Lord to take away my will and desire to move. I said, "If this is not your will for us then please take away this desire and let me just have peace of soul right here." Simple enough request right? I don't see any reason why Our Lord wouldn't honor that request from one of his children. Of course I had St. Philomena and St. Padre Pio on my side as well. I was willing to let go of my dream and my own will for God's will in my life and the life of my family. I prayed for probably two years. It never went away and in fact grew stronger.

So when my husband, who was very much against a move (he just doesn't like to move. Period.) finally said he wanted to do this move as well, it was like a small answer to prayer. So over the past six months or so we have been slowly coming to the idea that yes, we were indeed going to go and actually set a time frame, the next problem, which isn't really a problem per se, is the friends and relationships and our wonderful Traditional parish. It killed me every time we would go to Mass and I would see my children play with the children they have all grown up with - that sense of nostalgia just overtook me to the point where I would question weekly whether we were making the right choice. So I started praying that the Lord would begin to help me detach from the things that would inhibit our decision to move forward with the move. I wanted to detach in a way; I needed to detach, but I could not by my own will do so for this is my family, these are my friends and this is my place of worship; this is my whole world. But God in His providence also took care of that, though I cannot say it feels good at this moment, but I know He is answering my specific prayer.

Over the past several months I have watched many of those people with whom I had been extremely close slip further away from me, many times leaving me scratching my head as to why? What had I done? I saw different circles forming and I was finding myself outside those circles and again I couldn't understand why (see my previous post on friendships). I began to think maybe I was just being too "Type-A" and it was driving people away from me. I am not sure why I didn't put two and two together sooner, but I suddenly realized this is God's way of detaching me. He knows me. He knows how important it is for me to feel close to my friends and this was His work. I now almost feel like a visitor amongst my former close circle, just watching from the outside. I cannot say it is like this with everyone because I still feel close to a few, but I am definitely not in the center of the "hub of activity" if that makes sense.

God is good, though, because when He begins to close doors He will also open other opportunities to fill the needs of the ones He loves. At the same time the detachment started I was suddenly being led to many homeschoolers in Maine through many different avenues. I met a wonderful friend through a Maine forum and she and I have been corresponding now for five months or so. It's neat to uphold each other in prayer and give encouragement to each other because we are working toward the same goal. I also was introduced to the nicest woman who also has six children through a friend I have here in NJ. She, in turn, is going to introduce me to another family who attends the Traditional Mass in Maine. I have joined a homeschooling loop up there and have spoken with some wonderful women who truly are on fire with their faith. I marvel at their faith because I have been so inundated with the Traditional Church and the no-so-glorious-light that is shown on those who attend the Novus Ordo from some Traditional Catholics, and I see these women who attend the Ordinary Form of the Rite or the Novus Ordo (wrote another post on the Novus Ordo recently that stemmed from my reflections on these women). I keep thinking of the musical, The Sound of Music when Maria tells Mother Superior, "when God closes a window He always opens a door."

At any rate, I have complete trust that if and when we do this move we will be blessed. God will not abandon us or our children because we choose a different way of life. It's uncomfortable to let go and let God; especially uncomfortable for those who tend towards controlling the events that happen around them, ie., me.

To end, I am thankful for a wonderful husband who is willing to give up his own comfort zone; who is willing to leave his own family (though we are hoping our mother-in-law will eventually join us up there permanently) and all he has EVER known to go to a territory completely foreign to him, with the exception of vacations each year; all for love of his wife and hopefully a better life for our children. I am blessed indeed by him. I wonder if he knows how much I am thankful for him?

Traditional Catholic includes the Novus Ordo

I was a bit disturbed today by a comment made by a friend and I got to thinking afterward that this topic would make a good blog post, though I know what I have to say will probably have some thinking, "I knew she was losing her way and now I really know she has lost it." Unfortunate, yes - but true that some will think this after reading this post.

I was under the weather last night, lasting throughout most of the evening. Sometimes this happens to me when a migraine is on the horizon...I get sick in the middle of the night for some strange reason and then BAM (!) within 24-48 hours I get a full blown migraine. At any rate, since I was sick through most of the night I was exhausted this morning and couldn't get up to make it to Mass. I elbowed my wonderful husband and told him he better get up and get the little ones to CCD; all this at 8:55 (they have to be at church at 9:45)! So they all scrambled and got out the door while I snoozed to catch up on my sleep for which I was robbed in the hours preceding the scurry out the front door to Mass this morning. The children were in a Christmas play so I fell out of bed around 11:15 or so and got myself together feeling weak, but much better! We spent the better part of the afternoon watching all the children and some adults of the Parish perform beautiful Christmas plays and songs.

Before the festivities began, though, I mentioned to my oldest daughter that I would be going to our local parish (a Novus Ordo Roman Catholic Church) that evening; this was within earshot of my friend of five years or so. She smirked a bit and started to comment....thought about it for two seconds and then returned again to make the comment. She said, "Well, I guess that will be your penance for the week huh?" I just looked at her straight in the eye and said, "I like the Novus Ordo and I do not mind going one bit." There was really nothing more to say after that. She just turned and probably felt that awkward moment we all feel when we meant for a comment to be funny, but then it wasn't received as such. I tried to smile and move on and we chatted about our children and such just before the Christmas concert began. I cannot dislike this person because she has lost her perspective, but I can make a stand for the examination that I have made over the past six months to a year.

This comment gave me such great pause because it is a topic I have been giving great thought and consideration to over the past six months or so. I was born and raised in the Ordinary Rite of the Catholic Church. It was there I received all my Sacraments and it was there my heart and soul always longed. We left for the Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite, or the Traditional Latin Mass, seven years ago for various reasons - reasons I won't go into at this point in time, but I never was a Novus Ordo hater. I have fond, fond memories in the Novus Ordo. I am blessed to say I never experienced or witnessed some of the extreme nonsense that does go on in some parishes, like the Clown Mass etc...Most parishes that I belonged to were pretty Orthodox. I worked for several years as a full time Youth Minister and those were very blessed years indeed.

I find much of the animosity comes from converts to the Faith and even those who have never actually spent time in the Novus Ordo. I totally reject the idea that somehow these millions of Catholics are less than ideal or somehow lost in their Faith. I must admit that when I first started attending the Extraordinary Form, the Traditional Latin Mass, I was caught up in the beauty and the reverence and yes (!) this is the way it should be all over. Somewhere in the last 40-45 years the Church has gotten off track and became watered down, lost the reverence for Christ's true presence, but at the end of the day we are all Catholics and none of us know anyone else's heart or thoughts. As I sat in Mass this evening and looked around at the people I saw people just like myself, kneeling in prayer before Mass starts, genuflecting in reverence for the presence of Christ on the altar, receiving Our Lord in Communion with great respect. It is there and these people are just like me and just like anyone else whether they worship at the Traditional Mass or the Novus Ordo or any other valid Rite of the Catholic Church. No one person is any better than the other. This bigotry works both ways as well. I know personally some folks who think what we do at the Traditional Mass is outdated and well - fringe.

For a while I believe I was treading down a slippery path in my way of viewing these other folks who are all encompassed in the ONE Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church. I let myself be influenced by some people I know, by websites I was visiting, by articles I was reading. I fell prey to some of the same skewed thought patterns probably six years ago and thereafter for quite some time. I had to take a time out and realize I am no better than anyone else. I am thankful that I can attend a wonderful Mass such as the Traditional Latin Mass. I do see the fruits of the labor of the Extraordinary Form, but I do not demonize any other valid Rite of the Church either. It's not christian charity to do so. I took this inventory, of course, after much prayer and thought that went into making the decision to move to Maine. The entire state of Maine has two Traditional Catholic Masses. Two. I had to stop and say, "Am I willing to go to the Ordinary Form if need be; maybe daily Mass with the children at the Novus Ordo, which seem to be in abundance up there, and Sunday at the Traditional Latin Mass?" This was a BIG question. And then, like many other things in my life I really had to question WHY I had shut out something that was so dear to me my entire life? I mean I know the reasons I left for a more Traditional setting, but why was I so resistant to returning?

I think a person can begin to believe anything under the influence of many like-minded folks telling them, "this should be this way and that should be that way" and lose perspective. That's what happened to me. I lost my perspective. What I do know in my heart is what we say in the Creed:

We believe in one God, the Father, the Almighty, maker of heaven and earth, of all that is seen and unseen. We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ, the only Son of God, eternally begotten of the Father, God from God, Light from Light, true God from true God, begotten, not made, one in being with the Father. Through Him all things were made. For us men and our salvation He came down from heaven: by the power of the Holy Spirit, He was born of the Virgin Mary, and became man. For our sake He was crucified under Pontius Pilate; He suffered, died, and was buried. On the third day He rose again in fulfillment of the scriptures: He ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father. He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead, and his kingdom will have no end. We believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life, who proceeds from the Father and the Son. With the Father and the Son, He is worshiped and glorified. He has spoken through the Prophets. We believe in one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church. We acknowledge one baptism for the forgiveness of sins. We look for the resurrection of the dead, and the life of the world to come. Amen.

I hope we can all open our hearts even a little to see we are all Catholic no matter the valid Rite we worship under.

Are they all yours?

All joking aside! I wrote this because over the years it has just become very amusing to see other people's reaction to our shopping trips out with all the children. As a matter of fact, I was out at Wal-Mart yesterday doing some food shopping and other miscellaneous things. Picture the scene: I had a cart for the groceries followed by a cart with my 4-year-old and my 5-year-old being pushed by my 12-year-old; this followed by my 9-year-old pushing my 1-year-old in the umbrella stroller. It was like a train rolling down the tracks of the "stuff mart." Everyone stops to stare as if we are all dressed like elves wearing those funny reindeer head pieces as well. Most of the time I can see folks counting silently with their lips still moving....1.2.3.4.5.6 and then they look at me with this look of pity or amazement; probably a combination of both.

I never used to let it bother me and sometimes I still don't, but there are days when I just want to get in and get out without the popular, "Are they ALL yours?" or "How do you do it?" or the even more intrusive, "Are you planning on having any more?" as if that is ANY of their business!

I have days of melancholy when I think of my one and a half year old outgrowing things like the bouncy seat or the need of a head-rest, walker etc. I put these items away or lately have been giving them away. We will not be having any more: orders from my Obstetrician. My body just cannot handle any more children. My womb is just too fragile to chance any more. My life and my youngest child's life was already in danger with the last pregnancy. So, as God would have it, we are complete at six. At 42 years old I feel a sense of relief on most days! I am enjoying my little one - watching her grow and go through all of those last milestones that I will not experience any more, except perhaps with my Grandchildren, Lord willing!

We are a bit of a freak show when we go out. Others stare at us like we are some kind of circus act, but I have learned through the years to ignore them. On some rare moments we do get a compliment, mostly when we go out to a restaurant. The children are very well behaved when we go out. Someone inevitably will say, "I have to tell you how well behaved your children are!" Those are the moments I smile to myself and think that we are doing a good job! It is very difficult juggling the chores of a small farm, raising six children, homeschooling four of them and working part time from home through all the noise, but this is the life God has blessed us with and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Throwing away the crutch!

When fear is excessive it can make many a man despair.
- Saint Thomas Aquinas

Sometimes I feel like fear holds me back quite a bit in life. One must not take unnecessary chances or make foolish decisions, like moving a family of eight out of state in this horrible economy without proper thought and prayer and discernment. But one mustn't also let fear paralyze oneself either to stay stagnant because it feels safer that way. Time goes by quickly - that much I do know!

My oldest is now teetering on the brink of becoming a teenager. I distinctly remember when I officially began homeschooling her; she and I were in our kitchen in our home in the burbs. I was cooking and she placed herself on the step and we were going through the alphabet one letter at a time. I would say the letter, she would repeat the letter and then make the "sound" of the letter and give me a phonetical example. She had just turned four at the time. Six short months later she was reading her first book, "Look at Bump" a book about an elephant. So long ago...

And now she does her work in the dining room with her sister and brother and when the spirit moves me to get her five year old younger brother in there to teach Kindergarten; him too. I love the life of homeschooling - I actually loathe the task of homeschooling. Perhaps it is because I now have an 8th grader, 4th grader, 3rd grader, and Kindergartner doing actual work as well as a pre-schooler who is eager to do work and a 20-month-old eager to tear up the work of the older siblings. I also have my transcribing jobs to contend with as well as massive amounts of laundry that always needs folding and meals that always need to be cooked and dishes that always need to be cleaned.

The conundrum: I love the life homeschooling has afforded our family. Our children are each other's best friends. We live and work as a family unit, yet we each have our own identity. The children also have their own set of friends outside of the family unit. I love that we are together. Yet there are days I loathe that we are so together, especially when my work is backed up and I am trying to transcribe difficult audio and I have children shoving books under my nose, asking me to quiz them in spelling, asking me to pour them some more orange juice and informing me the baby has just knocked over the plant and is tangled up in the ivy strands. Yet there's always the "on the other hand" isn't there? I think back to my oldest child and her reading me "Look at Bump" and me being absolutely floored that I taught her how to do that. In fact I taught three of my six how to read so far. Not an easy task under stressful circumstances, and we have had many stressful circumstances through the homeschooling years! The question hanging over my head lately, should we or shouldn't we place the children in a traditional school setting? There are two schools on our radar that we would like to place them in; one in NH and one in MA, so both states are in the running for our move out of NJ. But at the end of the day, is it what we really want to do? I don't want to go backwards into a more radical traditional circle. I am finally realizing I am a square peg in a round group of traditionalists and a move like those two would make me, well....even the more square(er) let us say. After homeschooling for eight years and seeing some fruits of our labor, would a traditional school setting be the answer for this family? I am realizing in a very bold manner what a life long sacrifice homeschooling ones' children really is, because as it stands I still have 16 years left before my last one will graduate.

My confessor frequently tells me that I am "too hard on myself" and this I know to be true. I do not know what it means to relax. God did try to force my hand when He decided to put me in the hospital for five weeks with Philomena (see earlier posts) and I did HAVE to make myself slow down and try to relax. Should I realize my potential and understand what it means to relax, enjoy my children, educate them for eternity then perhaps I can embrace homeschooling instead of fighting against it all the time. Maybe that is the secret key? If this IS indeed the key, then Maine is at the top of the list for the move for there is NO school up there (at least none that we would choose to send our children to), although I was told there is an active Catholic homeschooling community outside of Portland. I have to check into this a little bit more.

And so we continue to discern and pray. We hope to soon make a decision and ask God to bless our decision. Our goal is simple: Go where the cost of living is a bit easier on the wallet, the way of life is a bit slower and where we can really start living the Liturgical life in our home.

I may save this for another post, but the long and short of my thought process is this: I feel we have been particularly blessed to be apart of a wonderful, active traditional Catholic parish; a very unique parish indeed. Because our parish has all the trimmings we have, well we have become a bit lazy in our own home - not really living our liturgical life at home the way it is supposed to be lived out. As I reflect on this I feel in part this is because we can just show up at Mass and get "all the stuff" we need to fill our lives spiritually. For the past seven years, at least for me, I have used our "active, social parish" as a crutch; replacing the liturgical life I should have been living in our home! I became a bit lazy, I must admit, knowing the parish would fill the gaps that weren't being met at home. What made me reflect on this? Well, someone once told me, "If you want your children to lose their faith, move to Maine." This coming from someone who actually was moving away from Maine to an "active Traditional community". That statement never left me and actually drove a deep fear into me. But once I took a sufficient amount of time (about a year) to reflect upon what she said I began to realize that Catholic children can lose their faith no matter where they are! I have seen Traditional Catholic teens lose their faith all over the spectrum and I have seen nominal Catholics become inflamed with their faith while heading into their 20's. We can only pray for our children, do our best, raise them up in the spirit of God, live out the Liturgical life at home to the best of our ability and entrust them to the Sacred Heart and Immaculate Heart and let the Holy Spirit do the rest. If we let fear trap us then we truly are not placing our trust in God wholeheartedly. What I believe WE need to do is get rid of the crutch we are so used to and start living out our lives at home the way we are supposed to!

I think I will post more on this later.

When is it time for a change?

Yes, our seasons of life change and for me and my family we look forward to a hopeful future, a possible move north and quieter way of life. Sometimes I long for the one or two close friends and distance myself from myriad of folks with opinions by the minion. Conform or lose your place. I don't need to conform. I need to be me and my soul and spirit needs to continue to long for God and follow His will. When the focus is off the material beings and moving more heavenward; it is then we truly move into the next season of our life.

I wanted to springboard off of my last entry and go into a little bit about where we, as a family, are moving toward, praying about and at times struggling with ~ the idea of moving north. Why? Every logical explanation would point towards keeping our roots firmly planted here, in New Jersey, where our family and friends and vibrant church family reside. We have built a life here. Our ties run very deep.

Moving into this new season of life - our forties - has opened our eyes to many things, unfortunately one of them would be bills; more specifically making our bills, saving for the future - possibly three weddings for our girls, possibly six college educations, or at least partially contributing to them, retirement etc. These are heavy duty responsibilities and each needs to be addressed at some point to make sure we are in a position to fulfill these needs.

It is no secret that New Jersey is a state with a very high cost of living. In fact, in our research, we have found NJ to rank the 7th highest state in the country for cost of living index. While some think "it's all relative" in regards to the higher pay scale for which those in the Mid Atlantic states enjoy, regardless it is still a rat race and one in which a large family of eight finds hard to keep up with. Keeping our heads above water has become increasingly difficult.

For the past year I have been joining various forums and speaking with folks from other areas of the northeast, for which both my husband and I have a particular affinity, and understand "it's bad all over," but one has to wonder if it's relative? Speaking for myself my soul belongs in Maine. My husband and I first visited this beautiful, rugged state in 1997. We went camping in Bar Harbor. I cannot describe the feeling my soul experienced when I viewed the tall pines and breathed in the salty ocean air or took a long, cleansing breath atop the peak of a Mount Cadillac. It's just something that gets in there and doesn't leave. A flight of fancy perhaps? While I might have answered "possibly" a year later, I can safely say that returning each summer for 12 years a flight of fancy it is not. It is no secret that I am a cold-weather gal. Everyone who knows me and knows me well can testify that the slightest hint of humidity sends me into a deep melancholy and mad dash for the air conditioning switch, much to my husband's chagrin. Lately - now that November has rolled in, we have spent many a night on the deck with the fire pit, enjoying the chilly breeze and warming our hearts and souls and bodies by the fire, often reciting the rosary as a family out there or roasting marshmallows. What is missing? The loud silence and the tall pines, the clear air and crystal water of the northern states. I cannot say it's the same - in fact a morose on my part listening to the Atlantic City Expressway hum as we recite the mysteries.

So the question becomes: are we chasing a dream? Yes. And what is wrong with that if one does so responsibility, without impulsivity? Many questions have warred within our minds and hearts as we have prayed and contemplated this move: will the children adjust? Will we make friends? Will the distance between ourselves and our family be a negative impact on the children - on us? Will we be able to get as much out of the two Traditional Masses being offered in Maine as we do in our active parish here in NJ? And then reality hits us and we say, "How can we afford to continue here in NJ in this economy raising a family of eight?" And so we go back and forth; at times believing we have made a concrete yes or no only to revisit the thought a month or two later.

God will lead us in this season of life. Ironically I prayed two novenas to St. Theresa of the Little Flower. While I am not one for asking Our Good Lord for a sign, I did in this case because it is just too big a decision to go on instinct. My first novena was back in June. Specifically I asked her for yellow flowers if it is Our Lord's will and if He would bless such a move and take care of our children's souls and red for us to stay put. On the ninth and final day of the novena I received my red flower. Though saddened because my heart yearns for points further north, I accepted my answer and prayed that our Lord would settle our restless hearts. About a month ago when the yearning began anew, stronger than ever, I started another novena begging St. Theresa to understand my "second request" and after two weeks my husband came home with a bouquet of yellow flowers, unaware of my current novena I was making. What am I to make of these seemingly conflicting answers? Perhaps, after some reflection, that Our Lord would bless us in either decision. I feel at peace with that answer, especially since Our Lord has shown me other smaller signs that detaching ourselves from our current way of life would be a blessing in and of itself.

And so it appears we move closer and closer to a decision to go north, follow our hearts and open ourselves to what other possibilities life might have to offer.

Seasons of change

All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another. ~Anatole France

A season of change does not necessarily apply to the physical seasons themselves; the leaves changing in fall, the snow in winter, the flowers in spring and the green, green grass of summer. While I entirely enjoy each season and what it has to offer, with the exception perhaps of summer, the seasons of change that I am referring to here in this post is more the season of life changes. Much has happened since the birth of my last child 20 months ago. I moved into my 40's and well, life has slowed in a way. Yes, I am busy homeschooling 4 of the 6 children and tending to the house, trying to run my business Fidelis Transcripts, running and taking care of a farmette - yes that's a busy life indeed, but slowed in the fact that I am no longer pregnant indefinitely (thanks be to God) and sleep deprived and tied to the bottle in the middle of the night. Well, let's be honest - I do have my bottle, by I digress.

I am speaking of the seasons of life that a person goes through. I believe you go through one each decade. Your 20’s are all about finding love, having fun, being carefree. Your 30's are all about making your way and establishing your life while growing a family and then you hit your 40's and you wonder who you are. I know, I know - that sounds SO cliché', but for many of us we hit our 40's and realize we were so busy in our 30's just surviving childbirth and diapers and bottles that we don’t' remember who we were in our carefree 20's! We find ourselves lost in a sense.

For me personally in my 30's I clung to many very orthodox principles and went gung-ho and full fledged, following the crowd if you will of my dear friends in my circle who share my common beliefs. I read many articles, books and heard many lectures on what is supposedly right and what should be avoided at all costs and just followed them without hesitation in the spirit of "sacrifice." I didn't take into account the "sacrifice" I was already making and presenting to Our Lord just by being open to life. I was doing it all as my Type A personality usually dictates.

Some kind of light-bulb moment happened to me in the spring of 2009 after my youngest preemie was home and thriving - out of the "danger zone." We could actually breathe now and then it hit me - what now? What now? I was becoming increasingly restless and questioning why have I been doing what I have been doing for the past seven years? I started to re-evaluate my outward practices while concentrating on my inward spirituality. I made many changes, especially outwardly, specifically switching from skirts to pants on a daily basis. While I loved my time in skirts and feel it gave me a better appreciation for femininity and modesty I could feel my angst growing for having to wear them. I read much on St. Gianna Beretta Molla, a physician, a working mom, professional woman, and a loving wife and, might I add, a woman who wore pants on occasion! I began to think that following the crowd in either direction might not be such a good thing if you do not have full conviction to do so.

Many things happened after my switch. My heart and soul remained the same and in fact my spiritually increased - perhaps I was over-compensating because of some hidden guilt that I was raised with, but nevertheless - a change occurred in me. I felt like ME again and it was a freedom I hadn't felt in a long, long time. I was not so fortunate though in transitioning my new-found outward freedom with my close circle of friends. I love my circle of friends. Many of them have true conviction and are devout, humble human beings for which I hold much respect, but there was a sense of ousting that occurred. It was subtle, but it happened. Perhaps I was going through some "spiritual warfare" as one close friend put it. No - I am going through another season of life. One that many of the younger generation of orthodox Catholics might not understand because they are still in the weeds; the thick of things, unable to open up their hearts and minds that all of us evolve and change and that might not always equal something bad.

While I spent many a day hurt and puzzled by the subtle, yet obvious in ways, treatment, I think I really grew into the woman I am supposed to be in this season of my life. It's very easy to close one's mind and make rules and regulations black and white; it's much harder to try to understand the changes of close friends and then accept them for who they are and what they are going through.

I learned a valuable lesson through all of this: True friends will be there for you no matter what you are going through; fly-by-nighters will let you go and as hurtful as that is, it is a part of life and we can either treasure how we have been touched by their friendship or become bitter at the end-results.

Yes, our seasons of life change and for me and my family we look forward to a hopeful future, a possible move north and quieter way of life. Sometimes I long for the one or two close friends and distance myself from myriad of folks with opinions by the minion. Conform or lose your place. I don't need to conform. I need to be me and my soul and spirit needs to continue to long for God and follow His will. When the focus is off the material beings and moving more heavenward; it is then we truly move into the next season of our life.

Fumbling in the dark

I am no stranger to getting up in the middle of the night, feeling around in the dark for the door, trekking up the hall to the kitchen, squinting at the bright fridge light and pouring formula into a bottle for a crying baby in the other room, then lugging my butt back to bed.

I have been doing this for 12 years now. Yes, I get the occasional reprieve - but it's not often and it's few and far between. The effects of interrupted sleep on the body over the years has aged me beyond where I should be for 41 years old, though I always hope to bounce back to my "former self" at some point.

And now it seems like I am fumbling in the dark with a less concrete visitor to my body. I have the same middle of the night "fog" but it's 10 o'clock in the morning. I still hit the corner of the dresser but I'm not stumbling to make a bottle at 2 a.m. Unfortunately, it's not just from lack of sleep. "Probably MS" that's what I have heard from two different doctors several weeks ago.

Words like, maybe, possibly, it could be, perhaps, possible, float through the various conversations with the mixed bag of physicians I see month after month. Even more disturbing are phrases such as, you need to relax more, this is a classic sign of stress, you're a mother of six - it's no wonder you are forgetting phone numbers. Probably the most unnerving and irritating response I have recently received was from my former GP who has four children himself and a wife who homeschools them as I do my own children. He said to me at the last visit when I was telling him my symptoms of tingling in the hands and feet, the forgetfulness, the numbness in the toe ('insignificant' he said to that one) was this: "You could be my wife! (!) My wife suffers from anxiety and this is textbook anxiety." He then wanted to put me on a different antidepressant (I've been taking antidepressants for 10 years now) and Klonopin, an antianxiety. I told him I didn't want to switch antidepressants and I didn't want to be on an addictive drug such as Klonopin when I don't FEEL anxious. He said, "You're a different person then you were 10 years ago. You are much more stressed out with six children." I am not going to say that tending to a 12, 8, 7, 5, 4 and 1 year old is all roses and yes, it CAN be stressful, but I know my body very well. I know medicine very well as I have been a medical transcriptionist for 10 years. I have read hundreds of medical reports. I know whatever this is, it's not all anxiety. I am fortunate to have a very reliable "gut instinct" and the gut has been right about 85% of the time if I had to guestimate looking back on my life.

I suppose for now I will continue stumbling in the dark until I can receive that gentle reprieve I so desparately am searching for.