Today is Pentecost Sunday, and the Holy Spirit has been active here this week.
First, some background: I used to go to 6:15 a.m. mass several mornings a week. It made for an early start to the day, but I am a morning person, and it fit with the morning carpool. I even took Marianna and Rebecca along when they were little babies. The daily mass habit never lasted into the summers, and it fell away completely a few years ago. I now walk Dusty in the mornings and drive the afternoon carpool.
So there I was at Marianna's First Communion mass, listening to the sermon, which of course was on the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist. I thought,
"I could be here and meet the Lord of the Universe in person every day, and instead I'm walking the dog?" It just didn't seem like I've got my priorities lined up properly. We went to a lot of effort to go to mass with the pope, but at every mass I can be with Jesus. Who is more important?
Immediately the objections began: Who will walk the dog? Can I get up early enough to walk and then go to early mass? Argh! No way! What about 9 a.m.? That would mess with the school rhythm, and I 'd have to take everyone along--ugh. I know homeschoolers who go to noon mass, but that would mess up the school rhythm AND lunch. And on and on . . .
I didn't want to let this go, though. I was really struck on May 3rd that this should be my priority. On the other hand, I do have a vocation as a wife, mother, teacher, etc., and I need to take that into consideration, too. I lit a prayer candle and talked to a "nooner" who made it sound
a little less scary. On with the discernment . . .
The day after Marianna's FHC, our family stayed after mass for the May procession and crowning of Mary (by Marianna!). As left, Marianna said, "I wish I could go to church every day." !!! How can I put a limit on enthusiasm like that?
Monday I talked with the homeschoolers, explaining my call and the scheduling dilemma. They (very casually, it seemed to me) suggested that we could all go to 6:15! This sounded too good to be true, and the more I thought about it, the more I decided it was. They normally get up at 7:00, and changing that by more than an hour would either not last long or would increase overall crankiness. But now that the children [except Rebecca :-( ]want to go, I need to find a way to bring them, too.
So for now we've settled on noon mass. We made it a couple of times this week, and will begin in earnest tomorrow. We'll either get a lot less school done, or work harder to be efficient. I don't know what will happen when summer comes. There's more free time then, but the lack of structure has somehow always kept me from even trying to get out the door. Time will tell.
That's our family's "prompting by the Spirit" tale of the month. Ask me in a while how it turns out. Pray for us.
It's not true. This isn't happening. It's all a dream. My sweet, firstborn baby (shown above, just last month) IS NOT graduating from high school tomorrow.
I set up the island with waxed paper work stations, piles of cookies, bags of icing (pint size freezer bags with a hole snipped in a corner), and LOTS of sprinkles and colored sugar.
As the girls arrived, they donned aprons over their party dresses and set to work.
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This was definitely NOT one of those "less is more" occasions!
We left the cookies out so the icing could dry during the party. Or, it would have dried if it had not been applied quite so thickly...
As the girls left, we piled the cookies into cute little buckets I bought after Easter. I'm not usually so coordinated (matching paper, elegant tag, etc.)--can you tell I had fun planning this event?
Tomorrow is Marianna's birthday tea party. We'll have eight girls here by noon, using the good china and enjoying tiny sandwiches and wraps, scones with cream and jam, and assorted little desserts, including a 6" cake decorated with sugared roses.
Well, Marianna received her First Holy Communion last Saturday (May 3rd). It was a beautiful, joyous day for the whole family. It was so touching to watch 66 lovely souls receive Jesus for the first time.
Marianna's godmother flew in from Michigan for the occasion, just a week after my trip there for her daughter's FHC.
How are the room transformations going, you ask? We're almost done with all the sorting and moving; there's still one desk in the hallway. Lauren's room has undergone the biggest change. She painted it a lovely blue (which doesn't show up well here) and stencilled glossy black medallions on one wall. Len painted the ceiling, too, which really helped freshen things up. Note the coordinating (not matchy-matchy) comforter set.
Yes, WAY up high!
Security was tight, but not really obvious. It took a while for us to notice the snipers.
There were several choirs singing before mass. They seemed very talented. I say seemed, because we could hear the music, but not much of the singing. This is when we began to realize that something was amiss: the speakers were not functioning in our section. We were hearing the echoes from the main level. Unfortunately, they were never fixed, so we did not hear the mass, sermon, announcements--ZIP!
As much as I wanted to see Pope Benedict XVI, I was just as excited to have the chance to worship with 46,000 fellow Catholics. But without hearing the readings, prayers, or songs, I just didn't feel a part of it. Of course, we did participate (We know how mass goes, after all.), and we received Communion and the Pope's blessing, but it was a HUGE disappointment. We were there for hours, and didn't hear anything but echoes.
I am very proud of my children. They got up early and waited a long time and then couldn't hear, but they did not complain. They were so good about the whole thing!
I rinsed the remaining chicken in the clean sink. Now a helper was needed to steady each bag as it was filled.
Then it was time to squeeze out the air, seal, and lay the bags flat to freeze. Once the chicken is frozen, the baking sheets can go back into circulation.
If I know ahead of time that grilled chicken is on the menu, I remove a bag a day ahead to thaw in the refrigerator (on some sort of protection in case there's a hole!). In a pinch, a flattened bag will thaw quickly in a sink full of warm (or hot, if you're desperate) water.
