and I find myself smirking at God.

Does your child ever do something so witty and surprising that you just shake your head and let a smirk creep across your face?

My son cracked out with a clever quip last week and I just burst out laughing. I don't often burst out into anything.

I like that feeling.

Over the past few weeks I have found my self smirking at God. Shaking my head once again. Surprised at myself for being surprised. That He loves me.

It has been long that I have seen his hand. I have my memories. Those stories (we all have them) of my own biography that 'prove' our relationship. The little things that have happened that show me that there is a God and He does love me and act in my little tiny life.

I cling to those like my daughter to her stuffed rabbit. She holds that rabbit's arm around her neck to make him hug her. I cling to my memories of miracles like that. I make them cling to me. They are my proof.

Because it has been so very long.

A few weeks ago I wrote about how I have no prayer life. That I have just decided to go 'through the motions', read the daily readings and jot down my favorite line at the top of my daily planner. And move on. I actually almost deleted that line later. Thinking how someone might think of me. Discounting prayer. So cavalier. Disrespectful. To thumb my nose at a relationship with the Creator like that. I'll read these little verses real quick, check that off my list, and move on. But, I didn't remove the statement. It's just where I've been. I'm not hiding anything here.

And now, I see how He has been clinging to me. Waiting for that littlest of gestures. Not caring about my attitude. Not minding if I'm not paying attention. Overlooking the fact that I blow it all off in my little self-indulgent blog.

I have reached out, grabbed Him is the smallest of ways. In this time of turmoil in our lives.  A meager reach at that. And He has come.

I read these Scriptures and they SPEAK. As they have not spoken to me since my conversion over 15 years ago.

I would tell you what they say, but I won''t. That would make it not mine. And that's all I want it to be.

So, I can add this to my list. The days when I can open the Bible once again and hear Him sending me a message. As if some wise bearded man centuries ago wrote down these words because he knew I would one day read them and sigh. Did he?

And I see how God only wants us to ask Him. Like my little one with the love of her rabbit.

That smallest of faiths: if she wraps his plush little paw around her neck, he really does love her back.

My God only wants that little child-like faith. And yet I let myself get so distracted, solving my own problems, reading books, studying, talking, thinking, mulling. All I had to do was stop looking at myself and take the littlest glance at Him.

and I find myself smirking at God. "Oh, you!"

Wisdom breathes life into her children

Wisdom breathes life into her children
and admonishes those who seek her.
He who loves her loves life;
those who seek her will be embraced by the Lord.
He who holds her fast inherits glory;
wherever he dwells, the LORD bestows blessings.
Those who serve her serve the Holy One;
those who love her the LORD loves.
He who obeys her judges nations;
he who hearkens to her dwells in her inmost chambers.
If one trusts her, he will possess her;
his descendants too will inherit her.
She walks with him as a stranger
and at first she puts him to the test;
Fear and dread she brings upon him
and tries him with her discipline
until she try him by her laws and trust his soul.
Then she comes back to bring him happiness
and reveal her secrets to them
and she will heap upon him
treasures of knowledge and an understanding of justice.
But if he fails her, she will abandon him
and deliver him into the hands of despoilers.

Sirach 4:11-19

digging my way out of la-la land

I have spent a good bit of time lately watching Jane Austen movies, re-reading some of her books, watching the epic BBC masterpiece, North and South, which is based on Elizabeth Gaskell's book of the same name. I am enamored with the recently released movie, The King's Speech.

And I have been lost in la-la land.

I spent most of my day yesterday researching authors, watching interviews on you-tube, reading the ending of Pride and Prejudice again. Just because.

And then, I'd look up.

At my messy floor. At my child with a snotty nose and hair that desperately needs to be washed. Plastic dishes in the sink coated with boxed macaroni and cheese. Kids staring at the television blaring a recent episode of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse.

There is a slight disparity here. I tell myself. But not as slight as I would like to think.

Why is it, I have wondered over the past few days, that I seem to drown myself in these creations... beautiful movies, books, poetry... and then burst out of the water for a gasp of air to be utterly disappointed in what I see around me.

This is reality. These are my blessings. I know that this is the life God has granted me, bestowed upon me, mercifully answered my prayers with. I have no doubt.

But, after a few days with Mr. Darcy, King George VI and Elizabeth Gaskell's story of love, work and sacrifice, I feel that this world I step in each day is somewhat lacking.

I start to doubt.

Is all this that I love not authentic? Not possible? A fantasy? A grown-up Cinderella story? In no way possible in the 'real' world?

And I almost convinced myself of that yesterday. I read the news. A Congressman quits over sending a quite ridiculous photo of himself on the internet. Lindsey Lohan steals a necklace? My daughter sings a stupid pop song she learned at a friend's house. My son negotiates his every moment for a few more minutes on the Wii.

Yes, it's all fake. No possibility. I convince myself. Almost.

Except that there is beauty. Why would we recognize it if is isn't possible? Why would we long for something that doesn't exist?

And then, the scriptures speak to me:

Yesterday's reading... and today's... from Genesis:

"The LORD God planted a garden in Eden, in the east,
and he placed there the man whom he had formed.
Out of the ground the LORD God made
various trees grow that were delightful to look at and good for food,
with the tree of life in the middle of the garden...
The LORD God said: "It is not good for man to be alone.
I will make a suitable partner for him." ...
The LORD God then built up into a woman the rib he had taken from the man.
When he brought her to the man, the man said:
"This one, at last, is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh;
this one shall be called 'woman',
for out of 'her man' this one has been taken....
The man and his wife were both naked, yet they felt no shame."

Ummmm. That is beautiful. Yes. And that is real as it comes. For it is what God intended... intends in the end. It is his original, and final, plan for us.

Scenic, pleasant, romantic, clinging, shameless, courageous, noble.

So. Now, the challenge.

Erasing the disparity. Bringing that passion that is caught between pages and on screens of the creations I love back to breathe. To reality. To me. To my marriage. To these children. To my day.

I need to bring beauty to my day.

"Beauty will save the world." says Dostoevsky.

Save my world, please.

speaks more eloquently...

Brothers and sisters:

You have not approached
that which could be touched
and a blazing fire and gloomy darkness
and storm and a trumpet blast
and a voice speaking words such that
those who heard begged that no message be further addressed to them.
Indeed,
so fearful was the spectacle that Moses said,
"I am terrified and trembling."

No,

you have approached Mount Zion
and the city of the living God,
the heavenly Jerusalem,
and countless angels in festal gathering,
and the assembly of the firstborn enrolled in heaven,
and God the judge of all,
and the spirits of the just made perfect,
and Jesus,
the mediator of a new covenant,
and the sprinkled Blood
that speaks more eloquently than that of Abel.

Hebrews 12: 18-19, 21-24

Sometimes no poet's verse can outdo the Word of God.

the fragility of contentment

It baffles me - how fragile my state of contentment is. I admit, I struggle with many things. I am so far from perfect, it scares me sometimes. When I think about it too long. So I don't.

I struggle all day. To do good. To think well. To be kind. To smile. To step away from my plans to cater to theirs. To find joy. To think of God.

And I wonder, do others struggle as much as I do? Do we all walk around with a smile pasted on our faces, while inside, we battle it out with the demons of our thoughts?

Or, maybe it's just me.

I really don't want much. I don't want to be rich. I don't want to be famous (God, save me!). I don't want to be excessively successful. I don't want to be beautiful. I just want to be happy. The kind of Happy that I can depend on.

I told this to my husband the other day. He asked, "What makes you unhappy?" "Nothing." I replied. There is nothing that makes me unhappy. I can't find anything wrong. There is no over-arching theme that causes me distress, that causes me to look upon my life and shake my head.

No.

I have every reason in the world to be content. Yet, I'm not.

I have a feeling this may have something to do with my relationship with God. Maybe. But, I don't want to run to him, expecting a miracle and getting nothing.

So, I continue my measly prayer life, which, right now consists of reading the daily readings, pondering for a few moments, jotting down what 'hit' me and moving on with my day. Prayer time at meals. Wrangling fidgety children before bed to fold their hands and stay focused. That's all. Please don't send me a list of books about prayer. I know. I just don't do.

I also think back, and realize I've always been like this. Hard to please. Needing something to look forward to. Requiring something to 'pull' me through the day, because the day and it's contents are not enough.

Someday I will regret, I'm sure. That is my greatest fear. Someday I will look back and see all the lost opportunities.

So I pray for the 'glass-half-full' days. For the 'things-will-all-work-out-for-good' moments to return. They will. I believe.

on a husband losing his job

It's an odd place to be in life... I mean, we've all known people who lose jobs, have a short time of fear and panic and then bounce right back with something great. "Every one has to go through this at least once in life", I hear.

Sounds good. Sounds almost admirable... suffering, contemplation, evaluation, a time to reconsider what one really wants to do. Who wouldn't want an opportunity for that.

Me.

I don't want that opportunity. Nope. It's just not for me.

It's like grieving. We mentioned to each other, on the morning after, that it reminds us of the days right after his mother died. You begin to wake, roll over in bed, snooze the alarm, stretch... and then you remember. Later, you're vacuuming, making a sandwich for a kid or brushing your hair, and then you remember. Startling at times.

Sounds pitiful... I know. But my man is a 'gold watch' type of man. He really should have been born in the 50's (although I would not have him if he had been...). He would love to work his entire career for the same company, work his way up, hire loyal and admiring workers, be able to provide for his family and take pride in the fact that his work helps provide for others.

But, it's 2011. And the fact that he's worked for 13 years for the same organization is pretty rare at that.

So, here we are. Wondering if we'll have any money next month. Wondering if we will have to move. If nice people live anywhere but here. Will there be a priest that we love as much anywhere else in the world? Our children... surely they cannot find friends to replace the faithful ones they have now. It's just not possible.

Everything now is too good. The house that I loathed the weeks before Christmas for it's cookie-cutter design, dingy carpet and minuscule kitchen is heaven now. The small town that just closed down the only Gap in 70 miles is now ideal.

Strange how perceptions change.

We are so unchanging.

I say that I desire God's will. I pray for it. I can't imaging going any other way. But I'm not sure about this. I'm not sure this is what we need. What we can handle. That we won't both go insane, tear each other's hair out and and end up living in a little apartment on food stamps. I exagerate... but that is where my mind goes.

To the gutter. Hopefully God will pull me out.

a very regretful way to be

I'm not good at going through the motions
at trudging through the day
one thing at a time, one duty after another

I'm too emotional for that
I envy those with the self discipline to keep going despite their thoughts
despite their loves, concerns, frustrations

I bog myself down in me
and get lost
and am unable to be myself for anyone else

It is a very regretful way to be

selfish I guess

but I know that if I could just do the laundry, clean out the game room, plan a great dinner and bust through a to do list, I would feel like I had done something besides wallow

and done some good for someone in this house
rather than losing myself and leaving them in the balance