Philippians 4:8

After sitting on my last post for a few days, and lifting it up in prayer, I decided to remove it. While it was from the heart, it was also from mostly a need to vent, and didn't leave me with the feeling of hope that I wanted to be left with.

Further, one of my favorite verses from the Bible keeps coming to mind, and I have often applied it closely to my life. "Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, dwell on these things." (Phillipians 4:8) And then St. Paul continues, "The things you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you." (Phillipians 4:9; emphasis my own) I think the one thing someone in any difficult time of life needs the most is peace - God's peace.

Applying the above verses to the way I felt in the last post (which, if you didn't catch it before I removed it, was about anger at people's justification and use of abortion and contraception in light of those of us cannot have children), I've realized that the best attitude towards the sin of others that directly affects me is one of surrendering the feelings and hurt to God and refocusing on the good. What good? Any good at all: the loveliness of my little daughters' hair and skin and eyes, the way my husband looks at me when I know I've dressed just right, the porch-side view of the Kansas prairie at sunset (a sight worth seeing!), the joy of the new goddaughter who's already stolen my heart, the comfort of my brother's familiar presence upstairs (he's our new farm intern this year). And, guess what...I smiled at every item I just listed. :o)

On another note, I am gearing myself up to call my doctor about getting a referral to an OBGYN, soon. Please pray for me to have the courage, and that I can be referred to the OB of my own choice, even if I have to pay everything out of pocket. Thank you for reading!

God's Peace be with you.



One of our lovely winter sunsets in 2012

My beautiful, sweet girls getting ready to play in the snow!

Baby Fever

One of my closest friends and favorite people ever gave birth to her first child last night! Her little daughter is very much a miracle, as her parents struggled for a long time to conceive, and suffered a devastating miscarriage before this little one came along. This sweet little bundle of joy is also mine and Kevin's goddaughter. And I am so anxious to see her face and hold her, I can hardly stand it! Baby Fever is in full swing...but I'm praising God for the safe delivery of this little miracle and the the well-being of her mother (and her daddy, of course), whom I love dearly.

It's funny: sometimes I, like many other women suffering from infertility (primary or secondary, it doesn't fully matter), get terribly downhearted when my friends, who married around the same time as me and Kevin, have their third or even fourth child, or even when anyone has a baby, and I sit with my empty womb beneath this aching heart; but other times, like this time, all I feel is joy. It's not just because this lovely friend is, well, my friend; nor is it just because she's gone through what I'm going through, and has come out with immense blessings on the other side; no...sometimes my own problems just don't matter in the light of the pure goodness and joy of love made manifest. It is, I've come to the conclusion, simply God's grace.

I'm so grateful.

Sometimes I feel horribly guilty when I get down about others having babies, but now, when I'm called to help bring this sweet little soul up in the faith, assisting her wonderful parents along the way, I don't have to worry about that guilt. The joy is intense.

Although, I have to add that so is my anxiousness to see her little newborn face! Her parents, who I suspect went through a very, very long labor, are likely both exhausted, and they have not yet posted pictures, and as they live in another state, I am at the mercy of technology to see her. Baby Fever is roaring away! Must. Leave. Them. Alone...Need. Rest. :o)

For now, I am going to go pray for them all. I'm sure they could use it, and I need to be needed where babies are concerned.

God bless you.

Mary

A New Reason to Write

I've often wondered why I always felt compelled to write, because I often felt I never had anything worth writing about. I often feel that anything I have to say has already been said. In prayer today, however, I've come to the decision that I should write on a certain topic that affects me in a very deep and painful way, both to ease my own heart and to reach out to many in my same position. Solidarity in suffering brings healing.

I have to make a confession, now: I am barren. I haven't always been that way; I have two beautiful children, who I now know are even more of a miracle than I first thought. Granted, it took me a long time to get pregnant with both of them (or, longer than I had anticipated, in any case), but it never occurred to me that I wouldn't be able to have children after the first two came along. They have brought the deepest gratitude into my heart that I've ever experienced, especially in light of this apparent barrenness. I mentioned how this topic has affected me in a very deep and painful way, but I also want to point out that there is a certain blessedness that comes with it, too (more on that on another day).

My youngest daughter is now almost two and a half years old, and we have been trying to conceive for the latter year and a half of that time (with openness to conceiving before then). My youngest is now past the age her older sister was when the younger was born.

Now, I have another confession to make: I've been terrified of going to the doctor, to find out what reason there is for this "secondary infertility", as it's called. I keep waiting to hear about it being something permanent and unavoidable, and I'm very frightened of the finality of a prognosis like that.

I want to stress something here: I'm not giving up. I long to feel the stirrings of life within me again, hold a vulnerable, soft baby hand again, watch that little one sleep, perhaps do some things better this time around in my mothering (it's nice to know more about what you're doing the second or third time around). That longing spurs me on to turn this barrenness into fruitfulness. I have to be realistic about several things, though: 1) I don't know if I'm permanently infertile, temporarily infertile, or if the luck of the draw is just way, way off. Therefore, I've got to get to a doctor soon to find this out. 2) If I'm temporarily infertile, it might take more than I expect to make the infertility go away (and certain things are unacceptable as a Catholic). 3) If I'm permanently infertile, I can still turn this barrenness into fruitfulness. There are more kinds of fruitfulness in a married life than children...and I've seriously considered adoption.

There's lots more to think about, to write about, to discuss, and to discover. I'm on a journey now; perhaps "mission" is a better word. I don't know what is coming, but I want to trust God that He knows what He's doing, and there's a significant reason that this is happening. I pray He guides me to do His Will. It's time to get started. I ask that you bear with me, as I'm hoping this blog is a place to vent in a healing way, artistically if possible. :o)

I hope one day any potential readers of this blog will find my barrenness turned into fruitfulness.

May joy be in us all as we approach the Passion, Death, and Resurrection of our Blessed Lord. God be with you.

In Christ,
Mary

Hope in the Face of Evil

There are moments in time when one suddenly looks around and realizes that God has given one beautiful gifts, not the least of which is the gift of life itself. Then, one realizes that all this goodness is extraordinarily fragile.  This realization is the highlight of the contrast between good and evil.  The lovely life God has given me in this peaceful place, little St. Leo, Kansas, with a husband who is an excellent man, and two sweet little girls...it's so fragile.  How unfortunately easy it would be for an over-zealous, too powerful government to strip our rights away: rights to faith, rights to farm, rights to live as we wish and as we ought.  How easy it would be for God to call one of us home, shaking the foundations of our family, perhaps to the dust.  And how easy it would be for me to despair as I immerse myself in such worries.

It's too easy to fall into the trap of despair in a world that has been despairing for so long already. What an amazing thing that God has fully revealed Himself to us in His Son, and yet the world shuns Him and still despairs! But I am at least guilty of the anxiety that easily leads to despair if not checked, and I must look out of myself to the Grace God has given us to overcome it...indeed, I do not overcome it, but He does it for me!

Learning to trust God has been perhaps the most difficult task of life. It requires an imitation of Christ in the Garden of Gethsemane: "My Father, if it be possible, let this chalice pass from me. Nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt." We must trust that, if the Lord acts in a way contrary to the known desires of our hearts (I say "the desires that we know" because there are many that we do not know, that have not yet come to the surface of our heart knowledge), that His Will is still our ultimate happiness, and that He will bring about a greater good, whether through grace or refining fire or something that we do not yet understand. We who are finite beings cannot grasp the infinite. "Eye has not seen, ear has not heard what God has ready for those who Love Him." So I will love Him and make every effort to trust Him, to not let myself sink into the despair of worry and fear, no matter how awful the world gets. And I will hope: I will hope that one day I and all who I love will be truly happy, truly free, truly at peace...even if I have to wait until Heaven until we get to that day. God's Will be done. Fiat.m

The world is an uncertain place; the only certainty is God's love, and that we can only know by grace.  In these moments in the internal war against fear, I sometimes find my faith flagging, dropping to the ground as though it has run one race too many; and I am left with only Hope.  It is the Hope that sustains me and drives me onward. It picks my faith up out of the dust and drags it forward a few steps further. It lifts my head to look around at what God has given me again, and be thankful for it, despite...or maybe because of it's fragility.  The words of the sufferer Job come to mind: "The Lord hast given and the Lord hast taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord!"

"Night Prayer"

I was inspired by a gorgeous sunset we had the other day, followed by a crystal clear starlit night, to write this poem.  I thought I'd share it with you.

"Night Prayer"

I sit and watch the wheat fields roam
Up to the opal sky,
While clouds drift ever, ever on;
Their souls the sun ignite.

The day draws to a fiery close,
And night gathers gently in,
As one by one, the stars appear
And in the vastness spin.

The prairie wind dies slowly down
With a whisper and a sigh.
The silence of th'unbroken sound
Of stillness gath'ring nigh.

It is then the Lord speaks to my heart;
I feel His Presence there.
He banishes all the daytime woes
And leaves me without a care.

Oh, God of sunset, cloud, and flame,
Of peace and silence, too,
Abide here in this heart of mine;
This weary soul renew!

The Gift of Children: A Gift of Time

Today, I read a blog post by a young man who just lost his baby daughter a few months ago. He and his wife and an older daughter have been left to grieve...and rejoice in the life of baby Abigail Hellmer. Abigail's father reflects regularly on how much this little baby inspires him; she inspires him to appreciate life in ways he never imagined before she came along, however briefly (she had a rare disease that left her with an uncertain amount of time to live; she lived 118 days).  As I thought about this little family, their beautiful faith in God, their amazingly grateful hearts, and how they continue to embrace life in the face of their grief, as I've read the stories of others that have faced similar losses of their children, I have found myself changed.

When I was almost two years old, my baby brother died of a complication with whooping cough, and I grew up witnessing my parents' intense grief, an intensity that lessened only very gradually with time. I've realized, looking back, how much that grief impressed an anxiety about death on me, especially the death of someone I love. When I started having children, I suddenly realized how precious they are to me, and how horribly it would tear me apart to lose them. I can certainly appreciate my parents' grief better now. Over the past three and a half years since my first daughter, Rose, was born, I've had many instances of anxiety and fear of losing my children, fear of them ever suffering, fear of the pain of watching them suffer.

 After watching the journey of the Hellmer family (the family mentioned above) and the journey of another family, the Schmidts, that lost their little baby girl only an hour or two after she was born (this was something they knew was likely coming and had prepared for it as much as they could), I have found my anxieties lessened considerably.  The Hellmers and the Schmidts have strove to look at what they can take from the brief time allotted to them with their little girls: the gift of time.  They have learned that these little ones are a gift to us from God.  We are called to care for them as long as the good Lord allows us, to treasure that time, and to remember that they belong first and foremost to Him, our Creator.  The longer I've read about these families' experiences from their own perspectives, the more this knowledge that all our lives are GIFTS, including the time we have with our loved ones, the more it has sunk from my head to my heart.  It has immersed itself into the entirety of my life, and I find myself valuing my children much more deeply than I ever thought possible.  Middle of the night puking (a recent occurance) and middle of the night bottle needs have become insignificant in the demands they make on me and significant in the realization of how precious the moments are that I have been given to shower my children with love.

It is in this gift of time, in this gift of NOW, that I have with Rose and Ana that I can give them what I ought: unceasing, unconditional Love.  That is my calling.  It is my duty.  It is my joy.  And I will treasure every moment I have been given.

PS Please check out my list of favorite websites/blogs to see the stories of the Hellmer and Schmidt families.

I Hope

Dear Readers,

This is my first blog post! Okay, so I've posted on my husband's blog and on our family's farm/CSA business blog (see the links below if you're curious), but this is the first for my very own blog. I call this "my very own blog", but in reality, even though I'm the one writing, I pray that whatever is written here will touch your lives enough for you to call this your own.

I hope, I dearly, dearly desire that I can touch the hearts of other people, especially other women like me who have longed to follow Christ Jesus more closely each day. I pray that I may support you in your walk as Catholic wives, mothers, and women - or, if you are a man reading this, that I will inspire you to support the women in your lives to grow closer to Christ in all they do.

A little about who I am: I was born in the mid-80s and grew up in a suburban, post-modernist society that said material things and the fulfillment of our fleshly desires was happiness...and don't worry, Hell doesn't exist. By God's grace, I was raised by a devout Catholic family, and the seeds my parents planted in my heart came to fruition in early adulthood.  I went to Catholic schools during the whole course of my education, from grade school to college, where I met my husband. After graduating from Benedictine College in Atchison, KS (go Ravens!) in 2007, Kevin and I married the same year and had our first child, Rose, in 2008. Before Rose was born, I taught middle-school English at a Catholic school, and my husband taught theology at a Catholic high school. Although I stayed home after Rose was born, Kevin continued to teach for two more years.  Kevin quit his teaching job after the 2009-2010 school year, and we moved in with my parents (in order to stay debt free) so that we could start a small farming business, growing and selling organic vegetables and fruit locally through a vegetable subscription (called Community Supported Agriculture, or a CSA) and at Farmer's Markets. This was a huge leap of faith for us, as farming is a risky business, relying heavily on good weather and few mistakes for success.  In the late fall of 2010, our second daugther, Anastasia (or Ana, as we call her), was born. We are now getting ready to move to our own farm, and we will continue our business in a very rural area of Kansas.

There is much in the above that is incomplete, but I hope to fill in all the blanks as time goes on.  Meanwhile, I want to end this first post with the following: "Charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeting, but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised." - Proverbs 31:30

In Christ,

Mary Ford