The Myth of Moderation: Learning to Say No in a Culture of Indulgence

Everything in moderation! 

For the past six years, I have heard that maxim more times than I can count from people who do not understand or like my dietary choices. I once politely refused a cookie from an angry woman. She insisted that it "just wasn't healthy" not to eat cookies and believed that I must eat "everything in moderation" in order to live a healthy life. It turned into an uncomfortable standoff and... 

I didn't eat the cookie.

I didn't eat it because the idea that the way to be healthy is "everything in moderation" simply isn't true. 

There are some things which are always harmful to us even in small quantities.
There are some people who are harmed by things that you aren't.
There are some substances which are not harmful in small quantities but are in "moderate" quantities.

And most significantly...

Moderation means different things to different people.

Moderation is a movable line. Let's take ice cream for example. What is a moderate consumption of ice cream?
Here are various definitions....

Me: One scoop every couple years.

My husband: When the mood strikes every couple months.

My friend: One small scoop three times a week.

My neighbor: A giant banana split once a week.

My family member: Whenever the heck I feel like it. YOLO

My kids: "I will eat ice cream at every possible opportunity whether or not I actually want it and even if I am so full that I might vomit upon consuming!"

"Moderation" sounds scientific and authoritative until we look more closely and discover that the term is often a convenient way to justify our excesses and judge the eating habits of others. We know that it is a movable line but continue to wield it as an iron sword of truth.

True moderation is the application of virtue to all areas of our life. But American cultural moderation is pretty much just do whatever you want to do and call it moderate. We have replaced the word "virtue" with moderation and our collective health (mind, body, and soul) has suffered as a result.

"Sweetheart, you need to have a cookie! Everything in moderation!"

Except dirt. And paint chips. And glue. That goes without saying really. But when it comes to food, one person's "moderate" is another's kryptonite. And It's time we call out the lie and speak the truth:

It's okay to say no to things that aren't necessary. Why are we so afraid to lose our little luxuries?

As someone with autoimmune disease, moderation takes on an entirely different meaning for me. Instead of meaning that I can indulge in anything I want as long as it's in small quantities, it means that I can enjoy reasonable quantities of almost any food I like... as long as it's on my approved list. That list is quite a bit smaller than I'd prefer... 

• I can't drink alcohol because it adds stress to my vital organs.
• I can't eat gluten because I hate feeling like I'm dying and I like my small intestine.
• I don't eat sugar because it is an inflammatory food and I'm battling inflammatory disease.
• I don't drink coffee because caffeine is also a huge inflammatory. 
• I don't eat food with additives, colorants, or artificial flavors because... see all of the above.

Technically, I could choose to consume those foods and pay the consequences. I know many people who do that in the name of moderation. Or because they feel their quality of life would suffer without their annual Shamrock shake. It's their choice, of course. But I do not choose sickness over health... not for all the moderate enjoyment this world has to offer. My weaknesses lie in many other areas (many many), but it is relatively easy for me to say no to things which prevent me from enjoying life and serving my family.

There are many other things I don't do (and no one should do) in moderation (like eat paint chips). That list is long, self-evident, and destroys the moderation in "everything" myth instantly.

Then there are donuts and coffee and that fuzzy middle ground.

I admit that it's easier for me because those two comfort foods would make me miserable and mess with my body's ability to to heal and to survive. Sickness is HARD for me. Debilitatingly hard. When I put food to my mouth, I am consciously choosing to live. 

On the other hand, I know diabetics who eat donuts and people on anti-depressants who drink caffeine. I understand that our struggles and physical limits vary and I cannot speak to their choices.

But...

If you eat garbage food multiple times a week and have migraines, IBS, thyroid issues, fatigue, anxiety, depression, weight gain, and a host of other common plagues, you might want to consider doing something beautiful for yourself and throw "everything in moderation" out the window. You may just be surprised by a miracle; not the least of which might be that you can say no to that extra ice cream splurge and live to tell about it. 

When we discard the moderation myth as a way of life, we learn a beautiful secret about ourselves:

We are capable of self-control.
Our needs are simpler than we previously thought.
We spend less on the unnecessary.
We can be free from our cravings.
We can do heroic things even when no one is watching.

If we are Christians, we also learn a beautiful secret about our faith... 

In any given moment, we might be asked to give up everything for Love. Every time we decline that caramel latte and offer it as a sacrifice of praise, we become a bit more fit for the bigger battles... and more free to be molded for loving service and eternity. 

Thanks be to God!

Start Being Brave About Everything (Pio Prints)

{I received a product in exchange for this honest review. Thank you for supporting my family! My full disclosure Here.}

My daughter is brave. And she is teaching me how to be brave. 

Over 20 years ago, I went through the same surgery she did, wore the same brace she is wearing, and worked my heart out to get back to the activities I enjoyed, just like she is. But I see in her a strength I did not have... because my courage was a superficial show... and hers runs deep.

I endured for the moment while eyes were upon me and then secretly began to give up. I was tired of the hard things. I was tired of the physical and mental stresses of life and didn't want to fight anymore. I was only a kid... but I was already afraid and worn. 

When people would tell me "Great job!" and "You inspire me!"... I developed the habit of countering them in my mind...

You're a liar.
I'm worthless.
I can't.
I shouldn't.

I became my own flawed teacher and I daily instructed myself about my failure as a human being. I thought that I was just protecting myself. Hey, if I just admitted the truth from the start, then it wouldn't hurt when other people saw it and said it, right?

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

And instead of growing roots strong and true... and vulnerable... I kept them short in fear, and short circuited my ability to experience joy. It took many years to undo those messages of fear.

While I know that my daughter has her own fears and insecurities, I also see a depth of passionate courage that I hope to see in all my children; and I thank God that I don't have to pass on the sickness of soul that I carried. That I can raise my children to something better... to the rock and foundation Who is Jesus Christ... and myself find courage and healing through the testimony of their lives.

When I saw this tank top from Pio Prints, my heart shouted a resounding YES! St. Catherine for the win! And I knew my girl had to wear it. 

We all need a St. Catherine to get in our faces and speak the Truth with strong and deep love. Even though I have never met this saint and elder sister in Christ, I cling to her wisdom and let her words ring in my heart:

"Start being brave about everything."

Yes. I will. Thanks be to God.

Pio Prints was founded with "the mission to spread the message of the Saints to encourage, inspire, comfort, and congratulate."

Women need that. Oh, how we need that! And we also love a cute and comfortable tank top to do the courageous things God calls us to, right? Of course, we do! Now go grab one of your own at Pio Prints... for yourself, your daughters, and any beautiful gal in your life who needs a reminder of who she is made to be.  PIO PRINTS

Be sure to also follow them on Facebook and Instagram!

Raising Strong Daughters in a Dog Eat Dog World

As the mother of four daughters, I have a lot of complicated thoughts about them, about the world, and about them coming into contact with the world. My own experience as an American woman plays into those thoughts heavily and I will not lie... sometimes they terrify me.

This world is dog eat dog and many women get chewed up and spit out right from the beginning. 

But because I cannot keep these girls locked up in the house (I mean, please... we'd drive each other mad eventually), I have had to face those real fears and determine a solid path for raising my little women. 

I was not a confident young woman. I was a "feminist" (because what secular young female isn't?) but it was all bluster and silliness. The truth was that I was just a young girl trying hard to be loved by someone (anyone) and not get kicked around too much by life. My self-confidence could be shattered by a finicky bottle of hairspray or a devastating break up... Sometimes it all seemed mashed up together in a sloppy painful heap. 

Unfortunately, that left me in a difficult blank space where I was neither nurtured fully as a human being nor protected from the predatory "dogs" of the world. I look back on my youth with much sorrow and regret. It wasn't until adulthood that I really learned my worth and discovered a depth of true joy...

So how do we raise our daughters to be the beautiful, sensitive, strong, wonderful women God created them to be... without hardening their hearts or turning them into dog bait? 

I don't have the answers, but I have a few ideas...

1. Stop Knocking Her Down (Be an Encourager)

If we want our girls to rise up straight and tall, we can't keep kicking them down. And moms, I mean we have to stop nitpicking the life breath out of them. I am guilty of this and I do it because I want to fix everything and make it all perfect… so that they are happy forever and ever. 

But oh my... sometimes I'm stomping on those sweet toes when I should be washing their feet. I forget my role as soul-lover and wear the gaudy hat of nagging tyrant. Awful. Fear-based mothering is a drag on the gentle soul and a bludgeon on innocent heads.

As moms, we have to keep them accountable and maintain certain expectations so that our kids can grow healthy and succeed. But we've got to make the balance of our interactions fall on the positive side, so that when they are grown and gone, the "mom voice" in their heads (yes, it will be there), is one that communicates truth, joy, beauty, encouragement, and strength.

2. Don't Let Others Knock Her Down (Rise up, Mama Bear!)

Dear sister mama bears... this is your cue. The common thought is that kids are resilient but let's not forget the dramatic rise in teen depression, suicide, and abuse. Resiliency does not mean that children can't be deeply wounded, simply that they learn coping strategies and have the ability to heal (or hide) their scars. Not every injury heals well but there are many injuries which are preventable. You daughters are vulnerable to predators (emotional, spiritual, and physical) and they need you to be "that mom" who is in the right place to mentor their young souls. 

You don't have to be helicopter mom but you do need to be alert. Do what you can to keep her physically, emotionally, and spiritually safe during her formative years and all the eye rolling will be worth it someday. 

I was a sensitive kid trying to fight my way through a dog eat dog youth culture. That did not go well. I didn't know how to fight. I needed someone to see what was going on and fight for me when I didn't have the skills, courage, or strength. I needed to know that I wasn't on my own. 

3. Teach Her How to Fight (Mentor Her as She Grows)

Okay, I don't mean sharpening her nails before a behind-the-school scratch fest. I mean that mamas have to teach their girls to defend what is good and beautiful about themselves. A feminine heart is one of God's greatest gifts to the world because it thrives on serving the needs of others. It is worth protecting. 

So, define what it means to "fight" and teach her how...

A woman's "fight" should never be an attack on others but only a defense of what is good and true. We are strongest when we lead others to be their best, not when we force them into doing what we want them to do. Our inner lioness is not designed to defend our egos... but to serve and ignite the world. 

Teach her to defend those who are weak and oppressed, marginalized and vulnerable. Teach her that she is worth fighting for and defending and give her the specific words and action steps to use when faced with someone who makes themselves her enemy. And teach her to identify an enemy... Because sometimes enemies come disguised as our greatest desires. I'm convinced that behind every angry feminist is a little girl left defenseless in the presence of "dogs"... male and female. 

4. Reveal Her Beauty (Be A Mirror To Show Her the Truth)

How ugly I felt as a young girl and woman! No shower could take away that feeling of disgust that I had for myself. I fell short in every way in my own eyes and it wasn't until I met my future husband (who then introduced me to Jesus), that I could see the truth mirrored for me. It is still difficult to believe! But the gentle love of my man and my God have taught me how to receive love without being afraid of a follow-up kick to the heart. 

The dogs of life had shouted lie after lie at me on a daily basis and I learned to believe them. As a mother, I realize that I have a  duty to show my girls who they really are... because the world will always feed them lies. 

When they are in your home, they should have no doubt that you love them and they should always see their beauty mirrored in your eyes. Tell them, show them, hug them, strengthen them. 

5. Introduce Her to Strong Women (Model Strong Womanhood)

Worldly wisdom says that "strong" women are successful, rich, and bold. True wisdom says that strong women are those who serve with such love and joy that they change the world, one soul at a time. Truly strong women are those women who refuse to become a "dog" in society and who use their feminine gifts to make the world a beautiful place where every soul knows its worth. They don't step on people to get where they want to go... they lift others up and are carried upward in the process. 

You're far more likely to find truly strong women in your own families and communities than you are on a Hollywood screen. I'm talking strong like Grandma... not brash like Beyonce. Big difference!

And be the strong woman you want her to be. Show her what it looks like. 

6. Teach Her That She Has Value Unattached to Her Successes or Failures (Be a Truth-teller)

The measuring stick of our culture is unforgiving and seems to unalterably attach our individual value to our successes. What we do becomes synonymous with who we are and inevitably, young women lose their identity in the midst of their activities. Life is rocky. And when a girl asks herself who she really is, the words that often invade her heart are...

worthless
ugly
failure
unlovable
stupid
miserable

We need to teach our daughters that they are valuable for WHO they are apart from what they do, what mistakes they have made, what victories they have won. Then when life gets a little crazy, they won't lose themselves in it. They will know... I am valuable simply because I exist.

The only way I know how to do that for a girl is to share with her the love of Jesus Christ, Who loves all, knows all, forgives all, and became man so that He could enter into our suffering... and shatter it. They not only need the consolation of such knowledge but they need the truth that accompanies it. We have a purpose. Happiness comes with discovering and acting on that purpose.

Dear Daughter,

You are amazing. Created in love out of love so that you might live in joy for eternity. Ignore the dogs. You are made for more. And when you forget that and need reminding, I'll be right here to tell you. Again and again and again.

7. Be Ready To Catch Her (Be a Healer)

She's going to get hurt. She's going to fall. Be there. 

Be that mom... 

Encourager.
Mama Bear.
Mentor.
Mirror.
Model.
Truth-teller.
Healer.

That's the best you can do. I will be praying for you! 

How the Love of Another Man Pushed Me Into My Husband's Arms

Photo courtesy of the beautiful Jeannette Ayoob-Urban

The man stood alone among over 50 women, speaking to them about their own womanhood...

Imagine a weekend retreat with all those women women attending with only that one man, a priest, to dilute the beautiful conflagration of estrogen. I was there and it was awesome. The positive feminine energy was a wonderful balm for my soul. So many "little mothers" to nurture and support!  And oh yes, the healing tears flowed.

Yet as much as I acknowledge the unique role that women play for each other in life (indispensable, really), I also returned home with a renewed appreciation for the role of men in how we come to see ourselves as women... and how we learn to draw closer to Christ through their steady witness.

It doesn't seem like it should have worked out well at all; a lone man speaking about womanhood and motherhood to a bunch of women (mostly mothers) who have 100% more life experience as females than he! But Father's words were more powerful for me than those of any woman I have ever heard speak. They challenged and pierced and illuminated the treasure of my femininity in a new way. And there's a growing part of me (not the former strident feminist part) that marvels and wonders what it is about a man that has the unique power to do just that. 

This experience of masculine speaking to feminine about the feminine was marvelous and unlike some male Catholic speakers who try to understand the "feminine genius" through their masculine lens and misapplication of JPII's marvelous Theology of the Body. 

I have taken the whole experience apart in my mind a dozen times since I've been home. Without analyzing too much, here are a few points I've been pondering... 

• The complementarity of man and woman goes well beyond the sexual and does not even need a sexual context or metaphor to be true and powerful. We have been given to each other in service by God and we have been made for each other. The sexual context is singular to the married vocation. I am only married to one man... and yet that complementarity with all other men still exists in a completely beautiful and non-sexual context. I am a bride. I am also physical and spiritual daughter, sister, and mother to many.

• The priest is consecrated and celibate but still fully male. His masculine gifts put him in a position to lead woman but also to be upheld by her. It is why we kneel for a blessing before him and why he clings to Mary and is upheld by the Spiritual Motherhood which is so honored by the Church.

• The authentic words of affirmation and confidence given by a man have a powerful impact on a woman... perhaps even more so than another woman can give. As Pope Saint John Paul II said so perfectly:
  
  "God has assigned as a duty to every man the dignity of every woman." 

Father's priestly counsel pierced my feminine heart all weekend. I was impacted not only by his words through his priestly office, but also by who he was as a person.  And my appreciation grew, not as a fangirl but as a spiritual daughter/sister being led to greatness in Christ. When he looked at us women and told us that we were beautiful in who we are and within the context of our vocation, I believed him; but instead of being drawn to his side, my desire for home steadily ignited. 

Fr. Nathan Cromley {Photo courtesy of Jayme Orn Photography}

That is what every man should do for every woman... Point her to vocation, to her greatness, to her spouse, to her Lord. That is what every woman should do for every man... Show him his capacity for greatness in Christ at home and in the world.

The nearer Father led us to Christ, the stronger that desire grew until it was a flame that became a blazing fire. I was enjoying the retreat and yet I longed to see my husband. To serve him. To be held by him. And a repeated daydream (that also became a dream during sleep) took hold of me there...

I imagined that my husband and I were holding hands and walking up the center aisle of the chapel toward our Eucharistic Lord exposed in the monstrance. And when we arrived in front of Jesus, we knelt together and received His blessing.

It was a physical longing and gripped me so tightly that it surprised me. 

Each time I heard my spiritual Father speak, that desire for my both my husband and my God increased. One man leading me closer to another man, my spouse... through Christ.

Many words have been written about the need in our Church for manly priests; men who not only understand their priestly identity but who understand it in the context of their masculine nature. It is not just an exercise in pastoral speculation... But a true need.

I not only reject the idea of women priests from a theological standpoint but also from a natural one. We need these men, these soul lovers who have taken up the cross of service for our salvation. We need not just what they do but who they are. Their masculinity is a gift that we cannot set aside as some random assignment of biological pieces. 

A woman needs men who will look into her eyes with their strong, confident, gentle love... and communicate to her the matter of her dignity. It is often said that culture will be restored by the heart, the woman. But...

Woman needs man to lead and to teach her through his words and love about her own dignity.
Man needs woman to support him as he carries his cross in the world.
He finds his own dignity and home in the heart of the feminine.
She finds her fortress and fire in the masculine.

It is my fervent prayer that the men of the Church will learn the significance of that role and take it up. Oh, how they could change the world! They are inclined to take it by might and sheer effort but do not know their own potential as soul-lovers.

I left the retreat a little early and went home late Saturday night, missing the two remaining hours on Sunday morning. I wanted to stay and continue to drink deeply from the retreat experience but I also wanted to be able to go to Mass with my family, to be able to sleep a little more deeply (even a quiet retreat stretched my physical limits during this pregnancy), and to hold my littlest girl who was missing her mommy. But mostly...

I wanted to see my husband. 

He texted me a response to my invitation saying: "Whatever you want to do is fine. Stay as long as you like. If you want me to come early, I will." I replied:

"Come and get me!"

... and I felt like a school girl while I waited. I also felt a little like a young bride waiting to see my groom before our our nuptial Mass. My eyes filled with tears when he walked through the door. He got bonus points for the roses that he brought me (husbands, take note!) but I would have rejoiced regardless.

After we arrived home, we imprudently but joyfully stayed up with the children until 1:00 am just being together before family prayers. My toddler fell asleep curled up on my lap and I fell asleep on the couch so quickly that I didn't even kiss my spouse goodnight.

It's not a story of glamorous romance. We are messy, we are weak, and we are broken... And we fall asleep when we don't mean to.

But the more attentive I am to my Lord, the more my heart is drawn to my home. And sometimes, it takes another man to remind me that to be fully who I am in Christ means to draw closer, not to the activity of my vocation, but to the souls with whom I have been entrusted.

The last time I went on retreat (over 11 years ago), I came home ready to change my husband... to form him more perfectly to my (stunted) vision of holy. That was partially (or largely) my immaturity and partially the questionable direction from the priest who essentially told me that my apostolic work was more important than the heart of my husband. And... it was kind of a disaster. I disrespected the treasure that my faithful, prayerful, hard-working, generous, amazing man that my husband always has been. I don't know if he was nervous about my return home this time (he was nothing but encouraging) but he would certainly have been justified! This time however, Father said something (among many things of value) that helped me correct that former error:

Jesus doesn't need new ministries, He needs lovers.

Instead of coming home with an agenda, I came home with a gentle fire. Instead of coming home to make changes to my family members, I came home to love them. Instead of coming home with a list and a massive plan, I came home with the courage to just begin again in steady charity. I also came home with a dozen red roses and a renewed appreciation for the irreplaceable role of the masculine presence in the feminine life. 

To any men reading...

Please lead the women in your life to Christ. Love them, give them courage by your own example, forgive them, make sure they have what they need to be well, and help them see their own beauty and dignity. 

To the women...

Let them. And then serve them with faithfulness, confidence, mercy, and joy. For those who suffer in that holy work, I share a few more of Father's words:

“When your heart is pierced, when your tears flow... Blessed be God! There aren’t enough tears in the world.”

To my husband...

I have no words for the gift that you have always been and continue to be in my life. You married a bratty teenager and you've loved and nurtured her into the woman that I am. Full of weakness and holes and sinfulness, yes... but also so happy. You have poured yourself out to give me life, hope, joy, and Jesus. You have tempered my wayward estrogen with the gentle strength. You have served even when there was no obvious return on the investment. Twenty years ago, you were the one who answered my questions about Christ and then set about to show me... and you are still leading. What all that means to me is inexpressible and touches an intimate part of my soul that knows no adequate expression. But I thank you. And I renew my commitment to our Christ-centered eternal love. 

Thanks be to God!

“Allow yourselves to hunger... Fall in love with Jesus.” {Fr. Nathan Cromly}

We are fast approaching our 20th wedding anniversary. May Blessed Mother continue to lead us united to her Son.

Retreat jewelry craft led by artist Andrea Singarella. Roses from my husband. Name tag from the Arise retreat.

Photo of the attendees of the Arise Retreat. Over 50 amazing women... and one Fr. Nathan. {Photo courtesy of Jayme Orn Photography} My deepest gratitude to Brooke Taylor for running with the inspiration of the Holy Spirit to make this event happen and to every woman there who said yes to that same Spirit by attending. 

Photo of our walking Rosary courtesy of Jayme Orn Photography

A Mother's Secret Moment {surrendering to life}

I sit in the darkness and count my blessings. Over and over I count them... and then add one more. It is that profound moment in a mother's life. That isolated, heavy, light, surreal moment when no one in the whole world knows except mother of the biggest thing that really ever happens. A new soul... a new soul. The whole world swirls around me in the dark. And I sway and count rhythmically and slowly. Buying a little time, catching  my breath. Measuring time so that I won't miss the breathtaking moment when the soul chooses surrender... and joy.

It takes two days to find that surrender. It isn't that I'm not willing or that I don't know it will come... but that the world is noisy and fast and I need time - time to be alone with this seedling - and to allow the unfolding to occur. 

It never feels like a yesat first but rather a moment of sheer stark terror when mortality and heaven collide with tremendous force. And the first and only thing I want to do in that moment... is to set down my cross. May I, Lord? May I set it down? Just for a moment?

Just for a moment, He says. I will take it. Lean in, Melody... lean in. I will carry your cross until you are ready to pick it up.

Am I ever really ready to pick it up again? From the very first moment two decades ago when I learned I was a mother, I was ready to run. That first time I only feared the unknown. After that, I knew very well why I was afraid; and it is for that reason that I need this precious moment in the silent isolated darkness... to face it and surrender over and over again. Nine times now I have done it. And nine times I have watched my capacity for life expand beyond reasonable bounds. I know the truth about joy. But I just need a moment.

I used to have to wait for the little plus sign... but now I just know the signs of my body. I've done this enough to know the drill. My body changes. My emotions change. My cravings change. My very soul begins to change. Another weak fiat is clasped in my nervous hands - two pink lines -and I slowly uncurl those stubborn fingers. 

What will the world think, Lord?
What do youthink, daughter?

I am overwhelmed by the injustice of the dampening of pure joy by the hardness of worldly hearts... and my temper flares. This child is too beautiful for the world! Too glorious for their eyes and judgments! But I am tainted like the world... and I am tired. And... I just need a moment.

So the darkness remains and my eyes are squeezed shut, wishing the cross to be lighter. But I will my hands to rise up with my fiat. My fingers splay outward and surrender rolls off the tips and also off my tongue and out of my very soul...

Yes. I surrender. With joy.

A tremendous wave of grace crashes upon me, reminding me that He is powerful. That love is not a sentiment but a wild sea. It is a raging storm that draws in the heart and raises it higher... higher... higher. But it takes crazy courage to invite it in and let it reign. 

This child is more than my fear. An immortal soul. Imago Dei.I surrender to awe. I surrender to love. I speak my fears one more time but it is only a ceremonial act. I throw them out fiercely one by one and watch my mighty God strike them down...

Sickness.
Weakness.
Failure.
Discomfort.
Loss of control.
Ridicule.
Miscarriage.
Loss of freedom.
The pains of birth.
Loss of time.

I shout them out and He slays them as dragons and binds the lies which grip my heart. And He replaces them with a song...

You are enough. Your baby is enough. You are free to love. You are free to know joy. Dance in the Presence of your heavenly Father and make an offering of your very life. It is beautiful and good and you know it is. You look into the eyes of your children and you know that you have already embraced this little one... that this moment is the beginning of surrender to joy. Let the blossoming begin. 

It used to be that I was eager to share our news immediately. As the years have gone by and our numbers increased, I am less and less eager. It seems the moment the word is spoken, the mystery is diminished under blithe speech and gossip. The sacred treasure is exposed to harsh light. The talk turns to names and dates and nausea and numbers. And really... all I want to do is breathe in the unspeakable beauty of the sacred dignity of the newly created soul. Eventually, I will get to those other details... but for now, I just rest in the moment. Thanks be to God.

Faithful. Joyful. Purposeful. {CWBN Ohio Conference Recap}

When I volunteered to host the Ohio region Catholic Women Blogging Network conference, I was confident about that decision... for about 10 minutes. After that, I pressed upon the goodwill of the talented and dynamic Brooke Taylor for help. Good thing she said said yes! Because of that yes, we had the extreme pleasure of hosting about 20 amazing women for what was truly a grace-filled weekend. 

It's hard to know where to begin because there's so much... too much... much more than a blog post. So I'm just going to dump my heart, soul, and photo stash here to give you a peek at what happens when the unequipped, the tired, the overcommitted, and the unconfident say yes anyway. 

                                                                          Photo credit: Jayme Orn Photography

As ladies thanked us for stepping forward to put the event together, I found myself repeatedly laughing at the irony. If they hadn't registered, there would be no conference. For some reason, they felt the nudge to trust that something great could happen even if it was a challenge to attend. Every person there made it happen. I just volunteered to stress my husband out more than some.

---

FRIDAY

For a few of us, the weekend began in the confines of the beautiful and peaceful Sancta Clara Monastery, where the Poor Clares of Perpetual Adoration live in Canton, Ohio. Saint Clare... the patroness of media. Sancta Clara Monastery... the convent where Mother Angelica, the feisty contemplative woman who transformed Catholic media with her tenacity, faith, and holy boldness, took her solemn vows. (If you haven't yet read her bio written by Raymond Arroyo... Do it! Excellent book.) The significance of the place with respect to our position as bloggers was not lost on us as we entered the doors.

The sisters are cloistered but had a powerful expression of hospitality. We prayed the rosary with them in their chapel, separated by their cloistered wall but united by Jesus' Presence in the Holy Eucharist, exposed between us for all to see. Then we entered their day room for food and fellowship.

                                                                   Photo credit: Theresa of Ordinary Lovely

As different as our vocations seem to be from the cloistered religious, we discovered that, as women, we are not so different. When we found that we had forgotten plates on which to serve the food, Brooke went to the sisters to ask if there was anything that we could use. Sister happily led her into a pantry-type area... and apologized for the disorder. Please ignore the mess! She said. Brooke noted that it was just like any busy mom with kids; different vocation, same desires and stumbling blocks! And don't we always find that our authentic Christ sisters extend us all the grace and mercy that we need? {All gallery pics in this post can be expanded by clicking}

I brought three of my girls with me for the trip. Partially to babysit (boy did they ever!) and also to be near me. These things that we do as moms... sometimes we need to step out alone... but sometimes we need to be mentoring and walking together. So, they came with me and we stayed in the amazing dorm apartments at Walsh University with the wonderful Donna Bishop from What If God Says No. Aside from the pleasant company and comfortable quarters, it was a very short and pleasant walk to the Chapel building in the morning. 

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SATURDAY

The best laid plans... are subject to change without notice according to the purpose of the Holy Spirit. Our itinerary was set but God had other plans and consequently, what at first seemed like a minor crisis, turned into a perfect schedule. It is, after all, what we had asked for. Hadn't we prayed for God to take the day and make it His own? Indeed, He did! 

The first part of the day was filled with introductions, breakfast, and the joyful noise of the incessant chatter of happy women...

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WORSHIP "BE GLORIFIED" (Taylor Tripodi)

So... about Taylor. I'm still speechless. You really had to be there to understand what she brought to our weekend. She came to be with us and bless us and then had to leave quickly to travel for a family emergency. But she brought the Spirit with her.... and we all worshipped together in the glorious morning. Because isn't that what it's all about? At the end of the day, it's all about Him and so we gave Him our beginnings.

Without having warmed up, Taylor stood with her guitar and worshipped with passionate, talented, and youthful beauty. I had heard her on YouTube. (I also know and love her family and know what a treasure their ministry and lifework has been to the Ohio region.) But it's not the same as being together in person.
Her CD "Be Glorified" is coming out in a week. Please buy it (to keep and gift)... you will not be sorry! 

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WORKSHOP PRESENTATIONS...

After we finally got the ladies to stop chatting (a difficult task, indeed!), we moved to the conference room to get down to business.

                                                     Photo credit: Jayme Orn Photography

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CATHOLIC BLOGGER: CREATED FOR GREATNESS (Melody Lyons)

Full disclosure: I had invited a big beautiful name to come and speak on this topic; a woman known for her holy boldness in the public sphere, grace under worldly pressure, and pursuit of Truth and Beauty. She was eager to come but I asked too late (two weeks is cutting it a bit short, no?) and so... I had to give the talk. It's slightly more challenging to prepare for a talk than I remember, namely because... well... 7 beautiful kids. But I could get used to it again quickly; I honestly enjoy public speaking. It's that introvert quirk that makes a podium less intimidating than a dinner table.

My presentation was about what it means to be a great blogger in the truest sense. About the obligation of bloggers to take their role as leaders seriously - to own it and refine it. To not be afraid to allow Jesus to take you where you might be afraid or feel unequipped to go. Ultimately, we are called to RISE... not on our own power, but Christ's alone. My swag swap contribution (more on that later - pic below) reflected this message that has become so important in my life.

Photo credit and gratitude to Colleen Kessler. I am so glad that I made a deliberate decision to brush my hair that day. It did occur to me that someone at a blog conference might have a camera. The yoga pants stayed home, too. Speaking of which...

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SAINTS IN SWEATPANTS: EVANGELIZING THE WORLD FROM YOUR HOME (Brooke Taylor)

Brooke understands evangelization. After spending 10 years on Christian radio, serving as mother of 5 (biological and adoptive), blogging at The Sacred Sink,  founding Mom Squad, and speaking professionally, her expertise is phenomenal; she demonstrated it during her presentation! Her talk really brought home what it means to be Christ to the culture and how we, as bloggers, are conduits of God's grace. I loved her sense of humor and her talent for proclaiming the feminine genius that women possess abundantly. 

Among Brooke's many ministry outreaches is her new family prayer CD which she brought to the conference and is available HERE.  You can also listen to her on Good Things Radio with Jennifer Willits (from The Catholic Next Door) who, incidentally, made all the attendees beautiful knotted rosaries.

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MONETIZATION: TURN YOUR PASSION INTO INCOME WHILE STAYING TRUE TO YOUR VOICE (Ellen Peppercorn)

Yes, Catholic blogger, you canearn money without losing your soul. Ellen Peppercorn from That Chic Mom knows firsthand and gave a phenomenal presentation on the basics of blog monetization. She is a professional blogger and uniquely qualified to address the issue... but she is also an incredible Catholic mom of 5 girls. I would be remiss if I failed to mention how adorable and stylish she is (even when she's going through a period of child-induced insomnia), which is likely why her blog is called That Chic Mom... because she totally is. You will want her great t-shirts, of course, and can find them in her Etsy shop, That Chic Mom Tees.

Ellen is an excellent speaker and told us how blogging allows her to stay at home with her girls and bless her family with opportunities they otherwise couldn't afford. What does it mean to successfully monetize a blog? According to Ellen, whatever you want it to mean if your efforts at monetizing serve your vocation and you are submitting your work to the Lord each day. "There were times when I worked hard for $25 and a box of Ritz because we needed to eat. Another time, I turned down an $800 opportunity because I could not stand behind the brand." She's the real deal.

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DEADLINES, DIAPERS, AND DISHES: FINDING BALANCE & BEAUTY IN THE CHAOS (Colleen Kessler)

After learning how to monetize without losing our souls, we learned from Colleen of Raising Lifelong Learners how to blog without losing our minds. In spite of her toddler-induced fatigue and claims to frequent wandering, Colleen nailed it with truth ("There is no such thing as balance") and love ("Sometimes God does give you more than you can handle... so that you will learn to always turn to Him"). 

She talked to us as sisters and gave vitamins to our souls as well as many practical tips for separating blog time from family time and prioritizing well. She is a teacher, homeschooler, published author,  professional speaker, and a cancer survivor who taught herself to blog professionally in order to afford to stay home with her kids. Now that's moxie! 

Biggest takeaway quote? "Make sure the balls you drop are not the ones that are going to get bruised."  Can I get an AMEN?

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SWAG BAG SWAP

Because I wanted to send every attendee home with a stuffed goodie bag but didn't have the cash or sponsor savvy, I came up with an idea for optional swag swap. It turned out fantastic and I hope the other gals enjoyed their bags as much as I enjoyed mine! The idea was to bring something for each bag that somehow represents the attendee and/or her blog personality. And there were some very creative (and delicious) contributions. Our bags were indeed stuffed... almost as full as our hearts. (My 17-year old son would say that is typical "blog mom speak" sprinkled with extra cheeeeze and surrounded by floating happy hearts. To that, I just roll my eyes, cock my formerly-teenage head and say: As if I care.) Some items found in our bags...

(Photo credit for most of these goes to my oldest daughter.)

In between the music and talks, there was an abundance of talking, sharing, laughing, shopping, eating, baby squeezing, and picture taking. And I can't forget the babysitters. They rocked. Lovely young ladies who found the Walsh chapel the perfect place to work on their polyphony. 

At the close of the day, several of us shared a nice meal at the Maine Street Grille while other brave souls drove the hours back home to their people. I could have used an entire week with all these ladies... but I am grateful for the beginning. 

There's absolutely too much to post here. I've got to be content with breaking down different elements into future writing. But I want to finish by linking the blogs of all who attended and encouraging you to visit and like and share. There is so much goodness and joy and faith behind these digital pages and in the women who host them. I don't hesitate to recommend any of them. 

I need to give an important shout out to Carolyn Svellinger of Svellerella (another Ohio superstar) who donated the artwork for our logo. She was all set to attend and then they ended up closing on their first home with newborn and littles in tow. But that logo ended up being a very rich unifying visual part of the event. A great gift. 

Emily Buamgartner / It's the Baum / Fine Linen and Purple

Donna Bishop //  What If God Says No  //  Wonder Doubled   {Donna's recap post}

Theresa Blackstone //  Ordinary Lovely

Michele Faehnle //  Columbus Catholic Women

Emily Jaminet // Motherhood Matters

Colleen Kessler // Raising Lifelong Learners

Kiera Kurak // Contranaut Girl    {Kiera's Recap Post}

Elena LaVictoire // My Domestic Church

Melody Lyons // Blossoming Joy  {Recorded Talk}

Jayme Orn // Jayme Orn Photography

Ellen Peppercorn // That Chic Mom

Melanie Shaniuk // Much Madness    {Melanie's Recap Post}

Andrea Singarella // Velvet Strawberries

Carolyn Svellinger // Svellerella

Brooke Taylor // The Sacred Sink // Good Things Radio // Saint Gabriel Media {Brooke's Radio Recap}

Taylor Tripodi // The Unseen Certainty

Christine Woodruff // A Fly On Our {Chicken Coop} Wall

Lisa Burns // The Fish Mom Squad

THANK YOU! To everyone who cooperated with God's grace to make this event so fruitful. Commence immense gratitude dump...

I am so grateful to the good people at Walsh University for providing an absolutely perfect venue and breakfast. To all of our wonderful sponsors (last on the page but not least). To Brooke for saying yes and stretching far more than she originally intended to (please tell your husband and children that I owe them a solid novena or two in gratitude). To Andrea for the beautiful decorating and so many big and little things (including the jewelry that I bought and my daughter immediately "borrowed"). To Donna Bishop for going all out to make beautiful programs and for being such a great dorm buddy (and fueling my family with morning protein). To Carolyn Svellinger for our logo and support (we missed you so much, lady, but are thrilled that your life is crazy big and beautiful right now!). To Jayme Orn for lending her photography skills and contagious smile (I hope you got your camera equipment out of the impound lot!). To Theresa for driving from New York to bless us with great conversation in spite of your official introvert status (maybe you are really an undiagnosed extrovert?). Christine from Illinois (did you beat your Grandma at euchre?) who did not bring any pigs but we forgive her. To Elena for being such a rockstar mentor and having the holy boldness to get kicked off those crazy forums (your gentle mannerisms are only a cover for your tenacity!). To Ellen for putting together the raffle and wearing those great (free?) shoes all day long (my feet were alternately cringing and wildly jealous). To Taylor for fitting us in even when we were not the biggest priority (and for literally bringing me to tears during worship). To Kiera for getting the food order together and bringing the most adorable play buddy for my girls (so glad there was no ER visit). To Emily (the Baum) for your joyful countenance and great conversation (I'd love to take a poll to find out how many of your delish cupcakes were eaten while driving on the interstate). To Michele and Emily J. for your boundless and youthful enthusiasm and sense of  humor (and the Buckeyes... those went over well with my people). To Melanie for bringing the star of the event and letting people borrow her for a squeeze (and for what it's worth, I'm a spider... can we still be friends?). To Lisa Burns who was such a source of life and light on Friday and who I already missed on Saturday (we simply must meet again.)

That's all. But that's not all. Let the friendships continue and flourish! RISE!

CWBN Ohio Conference Sponsors:

Walsh University
Jayme Orn Photography
That Chic Mom Tees
Cedar Point
Bryan Kemper / Stand True Ministries
TAN Books / St. Benedict Press
Tiny Saints
Columbus Catholic Women's Conference
Big White Farm House
Clarey Clay Works
Stephanie Weinert / Little Bit of Paradise

When the Giver is Changed by the Gift {Catholic Bedroom Makeover}

I never thought I would invite you into my bedroom. It really isn't my way. Something about publicly sharing the space that veils the sacred beauty of my vocation causes me to pause reflexively. Not out of prudery, but out of reverence. I changed my mind only because I want to share a story of blessing - when I risked a little to give a gift and discovered that I had neglected more than just my bedroom decor... but also the joy of having a beautiful space that my husband and I can truly call our own.

It began during a texting blitz with my dear friend, Lena (from Joyfilled Family). I confessed to being in a bit of a funk, a bit oppressed by my own failures... and by an ego that was reluctant to handle even one more apology and humble admission. Write down, she said, something that you would like to accomplish just for yourself. That one was easy. I have a lot of those. But there was one that stood out above the rest: I want a clean and beautiful home. A tall order. Okay, she said. Pick one room. That was easy, too. My bedroom. My ugly bedroom that looked the same as the day we moved in several years ago. My bedroom that looked more like a sterile bachelor pad than a woman's domain. 

I know nothing about interior decorating. We have lived simply and frugally and in a state of transition for many years due to house moves and construction. As I pondered the possibilities, I began to see the truth: the state of my room had far less to do with frugality than it did with my failure to "hold the space" for my husband and myself. "Hold the space" is doula language... always popping up randomly in my mind when I feel protective, defensive... but it fits. Even with babies sharing our beds, I should have held that space against the encroaching noise and clutter and crazy. It is my domain... and my husband deserves peace. 

So I began to plan. I would make it a Christmas surprise and use a fortuitous overnight trip planned by my husband to conquer my room and take it back for him. I've never surprised him before and I was nervous as Lena mentored me through the world of color and bedding. Create a new Pinterest board, she said. Twist my arm! I said. And I began.

Part of the way into my planning, I had a grace-filled conversation with Jennifer Buckley of Graceful Living {at Home} in which she told me about her decorating services and edesign consulting services. I already love her website and her vision for a Christ-centered home. When she offered to work with me, I was giddy... and also terrified. My budget was tiny as far as decorating goes. My timeframe would be even tinier. I told her that it would be a bit like a reality show in which we have neither enough time nor enough resources to bring a plan together. But she said, let's do it. And we did. The photo above was taken at the time of our Skype consultation. 

I want to offer a disclaimer here: Jen offered me many wonderful suggestions and counsels that I was unable to implement either because of financial or time constraints. She is a master of repurposing but I still had to purchase paint and all new bedding which ate up my budget pretty quickly. She promised me that if I followed 85% of everything she suggested, that I would have a knockout room. I'm not sure that I hit that 85% but I tried... and anything you might think is goofy or wrongly considered? It's all me. Jen is a master. If you are looking for help, I can't recommend her highly enough. Check out her stunning blog at Graceful Living {at Home}

Because this was a surprise, it was pretty challenging to secretly purchase and stash a bedroom full of stuff. The picture below is some of what I showed to Jen during our consultation before I had to stash it all away in nooks and crannies to hide again. She nixed the gray pillows, suggesting a "pop of color" instead and we made our way through the rest of the items and space together.

Below is a "before" shot. The walls were green-ish/tan-ish.... I never could decide which and just described them to myself as drab. When I first sent these photos to Jen, I was pretty embarrassed as I realized the extent of my neglect. For almost twenty years, I have used frugality as an excuse to neglect our space. I embraced the moment with what humility I could muster and just began.

Please pardon my poor quality photos. They were taken with an ipad (no flash) at different times of different days during a dreary and dim Ohio Winter with terrible room lighting. I hope you can glean some of the affect from what I have here...

And after...
I've since moved the photo frame from the candle shelf. I preferred the simple shining 8-day candle to more clutter...

I had removed my obnoxiously large dresser mirror a month prior and pulled this unused mirror from storage. I assumed it would go horizontally but Jen immediately had me turn it upright. I told her about my plan for my wedding photos and she sent me a photo from Pinterest showing how to arrange them symmetrically. 

I wanted wedding photos. I wanted a reminder of that young, reckless love that says I do give everything and more forever and ever. And as I cropped, printed, and transferred the pictures onto wood frames, I fell into that teenage love again. My heart began to expand. And I wept more than once at the stale, drab neglect that had begun to crowd in with the random toys and clutter.

My dresser has always said a lot about me. Always full of stuff. Random and scattered. Some of it meaningful, much of it wasteful. The books I have read and reread and intended to read. The spot where the varnish had been eaten through by a broken glow stick that a child had bit into...

... now transformed into a different angle of my heart - the one I gave naively to my husband 18 years ago and have been working on giving more completely and deeply ever since.... 

Of course Blessed Mother should be there. We walked into a Catholic gift shop in South Bend, Indiana on our first wedding anniversary and the Chief bought me this statue of the Bavarian Madonna. It was an extravagant purchase at a time when Weaver chicken patties on buns was our "meat" meal of the week. I remember that it was $50 and how nervous I was that I would drop it accidentally! is one of the few possessions I think I would cry over if it were broken. It was in our room at the beginning... and now it is back.

There are many holy cards and devotions that I cherish. For some reason, this particular "Special Act of Sorrow" is among them. I once saw a gentleman at church handing one to Father and I peeked over his shoulder to see what it was. When I saw that he had a stack of them, I asked him if I could have one. On the surface, it seems sobering and I suppose it is. But it also draws my heart to a place of humility which is where I most easily meet my God of mercy and JOY. When I hold nothing back - no sorrow or regret - I embrace the sweetness of my vocation with a happiness that is beyond description. The mystery of the Cross, I suppose. The prayer is a refinement I offer for my husband and I decided to bring it out of hiding... right next to the rosary he bought me several years ago. The pretty one with roses he saw me admiring in the case and surprised me with later...

First time craft projects don't always go my way but this one went just fine. I bought wood canvases, printed out black and white inkjet photos, used gel medium to transfer the image and a matte Mod Podge finish. I used the instructions here. I enjoyed the project and because I found a sale, was able to put each one together for about $10 a piece. The runner was leftover fabric from the curtains.

I always thought a pretty bed was simply a nice blanket spread over some relatively soft pillows. I'm either easy to please or just uneducated in the finer points of nice decor. Lena and Jen introduced me to the world of throw pillows, and in spite of my tendency to just get all matchy matchy with the neutrals... I bought a little color.

My 13-year old son can't fathom the idea of having pillows on the bed that aren't going to be used and kept asking why, why, why?? I was stumped. Until it dawned on me that they certainly can be used! Just not all at the same time. Which brought me to a perplexing question: What does one do with decorative pillows when one is sleeping? I bought a basket from target and it works just fine...

Does my husband care about the many man hours I put into picking out just the right duvet cover that looked like the one I coveted from Pottery Barn but cost half as much? I'm sure he would consider it a waste. I struggled with it myself and felt irritated with the seemingly endless search for... stuff. But those hours transformed me. Forced me to examine my original purpose and see that, yes, I am building a sanctuary. That is my domain and I claim it in love.

The blank wall behind the bed perplexed me. I had no idea what to put there. My original idea called for a shelf with pictures but Jen nixed it. No, she said. The bed is the focal point and the decoration behind it should accent, not overtake it. She suggested something round-ish or some beautiful words. She had a vision but I remained lost, caught between the pretty round wall hangings at Target and my desire to have that space filled with someone more purposeful. More Christ-focused...

I went to three stores searching, feeling a bit frantic to finish the planning. I spent another large chunk of time online wading through all the religious wall art I could find. And I found the Sacred Heart in iron. I thought it a little too Mexican for my tastes but I bought it anyway. When it arrived, it looked terrible on my ugly drab wall... but I kept it anyway. What a difference a gray makes. We think it's perfect...

The following photo was taken just three minutes before my husband walked in the door. I had worked for 11 straight hours and couldn't imagine what he would think of it. (Apparently, hecouldn't imagine either because I really did manage to surprise him.) I was not as concerned about what he would think of the details as I was if he would understand my heart. I put a letter in his Christmas stocking and waited...

The room is small so it's a bit tough to get a good shot of everything. And the ipad made it tough to get a good shot of anything. One aspect of the project that I never completed was the lighting. Jen made some wonderful recommendations but when it came down to it, my budget was blown. So it's a very dim room... for now. The Chief and I will get to it eventually.

I was really stumped for curtains because I wanted a pretty sheer but also something that blocked light in a non-ugly way. Jen recommended burlap to match other items in the room. I hate sewing burlap so I found a burlap-like tablecloth, added light blocking panels behind and hemmed. 

Jen also suggested taking the curtain rod close to the ceiling and beyond the sides of the window to give the impression of greater size... and using a single panel swept to the more open side of the wall. I love the affect... and I totally love the feminine sheers...

There was a consensus among my female mentors (co-conspirators) that the cherry wood paper organizer on the top of the Chief's dresser had to go since it was a less than attractive focal point. I took it away but I wasn't sure how that would go over. I replaced it with a file box on the floor which I have yet to fill. Presumably, he doesn't mind since he hasn't said anything. Or perhaps I should just presume that he loves me. Lots.

Another dark shot taken shortly before he came home....

I don't know if I mentioned yet that I worked for 11 straight hours on this room from start to finish and ate while standing up. And perhaps it goes without saying how grateful I am to my Dad without whom I couldn't have done it and who stuck it out the whole day. And maybe I didn't mention that I was so sore the next day that I could hardly move. But... this...

I had the best motivation for following through. A gift of love to my husband. A Christmas love letter. Delivered imperfectly but with my whole heart. In reparation for all of the big and small hurts that I have caused over the years. For withholding the best of myself in selfishness. Eighteen years is a lot of time to live with someone... a lot of time to hurt. And a lot of time to bless and be blessed. I worked intentionally, offering it up in reparation and in gratitude for every moment of growth and absolute bliss...

This is a picture of the old wood waiting to be covered with three coats of white paint that still didn't cover all the way. The garage sale Amish cabinet that I looked at constantly in the preceding weeks wondering if he would really mind if I painted everything white as snow...

Another shot of the waiting below. I called in an early Christmas gift (because some dads will do things like that when you need them) and took a risk on a wall fireplace heater. The kids and I saw one on HGTV once and we wondered... if we would hate it or love it. Crash was determined to make it happen, called Grandpa, and we eventually fired it up. The cabinet above was painted, reassembled and the punched tin vegetables covered in leftover fabric from the curtains...

The heater has been a blessing in our cold Ohio Winter. And the fireplace affect inviting and pretty. No regrets. There are many little details that I could not finish because of time or budget constraints. Like brass doorknobs and closet knobs that didn't quite fit when I tried to replace them. And paint that needs touching up because we did the whole room in 11 hours. And the switch plates that we just replaced last week. And the white shadowbox shelves that didn't get installed above his dresser. No matching tables and lamps. A few displaced items.

One little surprise was finding this lion on top of the cabinet. It was from the Chief's childhood and the kids absconded with it many years ago. But one of them apparently remembered that this was Dad's lion... and they returned it, not even knowing that it had been in our room at the very beginning, before they were a twinkle in Daddy's eye...

I don't know whether Lena or Jen would like my corner shelf. But I painted it and insisted on it. Once upon a time, we had a single blessed candle burning perpetually in our home under our living room crucifix. Those were simpler times when children didn't break things daily or hit volleyballs against the walls. I wanted that candle back. And it is now in our room where no chaos is permitted...

When I was a younger mother, I did not see how I had made an idol out of my motherhood. How my children had become the barometer of my happiness. Now that I am older and I am feeling the sting of the many little rejections that children eventually will deliver straight to the heart, I am brought abruptly back to reality: I have given my heart to this man. And when my kids leave and make me proud and break my heart and continue to turn my hair gray, this man will remain my own. For better or for worse. And I pray that I will always be able to offer him a sanctuary. So I have made a little light for our room...

And I'll close with that. Pulling the veil back over the holy place where we find peace and consolation in the midst of a life of great big suffering joy.

Update: A year and a half later, our 8th child was born in this room by the light of this blessed candle.