7 quick takes: my premiere edition

You may have noticed that I don't have a blog roll on my sidebar.

I decided not to add one because I'm 1) a slacker; 2) I'd feel bad if I hurt someone's feelings by leaving them out and 3) I'd feel obligated to visit listed blogs all the time and I'm bad at that.

Of course I do have my favorites. Every so often I come across a blog that is so smart, funny, spiritual and/or insightful that I swear I must've started another blog in my sleep and forgotten about it.

Those of you who are better at scouting out the gems probably met Jen at Conversion Diary long ago, but I just got around to sniffing around her site recently. Her blog has all the qualities listed above, and more.

Fridays she hosts "Seven Quick Takes." I'm often tempted to pick these ideas up, and when I do I'm inconsistent. But I've decided to give it a go, mostly because I'm jealous of Jen and want to be more like her. (That and the fact that I've committed to more writing are my motivators!)

So here is my first edition (it might be the last, I'm not making any promises, so don't get excited.)

--1--
I've come up with a "theme" for Lent: "Speak, Lord, your servant is listening." I realize that my relationship with Jesus is not all that different from my other relationships: I do most of the talking. I'm attempting to spend some quiet time every day just being. I trust that He knows what He's doing, and He'll fill me in as needed.

--2--
I can't believe my first grandchild will be here in only a couple months! When I noticed the number on the widget had dropped to the 60s, I started to get really excited.

I admit I'm feeling some of that "how will I ever love this baby as much" that moms feel when they are expecting their second child. Remember that? Of course we always love them with all our hearts, because as I tell my children, the hearts of mothers grow every time a new child comes along. (The pie doesn't get cut into smaller slices, the pie gets bigger!)

Experienced grandmothers keep telling me I will go absolutely wild for my grandbabies, and that I will love them so much I won't be able to stand it. I'm sure that's the case, but I still feel they're not going to be as amazing as MY babies.

But like my mom has told me, these ARE my babies, in a very real sense.

I'm sure I'll figure that out when I see the little cuties. In the meantime, an important question to consider: what will they call me?

Grandma, Nana, Memaw, Grandmother? All we've come up with that feels right is Grandma Hottie. Your thoughts?

--3--
Sophie is the cutest thing ever. Yesterday it was springlike enough outside for me to take her for her first Long Walk. She did great, staying right by my side. I was unprepared when she pooped on someone's sidewalk (I'm so sorry, neighbor!) but other than that it went well.

She is still not housebroken, which is her only real flaw. I know, that's MY failing, not hers. I'm going to buckle down and really work with her soon to get her going outside in the proper spot ALL THE TIME.



--4--
My kids are doing really well in school. John and Luke are getting good grades, and more importantly, excellent marks in their behavior. Joey has also really taken to high school living. He's decided to take band next year, because if this family needs anything, it's a trumpet player.

AJ is taking classes at the local community college. I'm officially done with our homeschool days, but I still spend time with him talking about his photoshop class, setting goals for his future (culinary arts, perhaps?) and watching inappropriate videos on youtube. It's all good.

Lauren is preparing to graduate, with honors, from nursing school in May. I'm incredibly proud of her. It looks like she'll be continuing her job at Children's Hospital on the rehab/burn unit after she gets the RN after her name.

Rachel's a student in the school of life now, scoring at the top of her class. There might be a prenatal class in the next few weeks as well, although she's informed me that she really already knows all there is to know. That's my girl.

--5--

The Big Man and I have been discussing the possibility of me getting a "real" job. I'm alternately terrified and excited by the idea.

--6--

I've set up an interview Monday with a Real Live TV Star. I'm more than a little nervous, because he is a Real Live TV Star, one that I used to watch on my favorite soap opera (as Meg Ryan's love interest) when I was in high school. He is tall and good looking and he lives in Hollywood, and did I mention he is a Real Live TV Star? He is also a committed Christian who is using his acting ability to present the Gospel to his audiences. Pretty cool, huh? Visit his site: frankrunyeon.com. And pray that I don't get all goofy when I talk with him next week.

--7--

I've decided I cannot ever watch "Baby Story" on TLC again. I used to watch it when I was pregnant, and I'd ball my eyes out when the babies were born. When I wasn't pregnant I'd think it was somewhat inappropriate to be a witness to such a highly personal moment in a woman's life.

Now, I'm a pre-menopausal woman who isn't pregnant, and watching it makes me cry AND wonder what in the world these women are thinking. And it makes me mourn my Baby Girl, and wonder at the fact that I survived losing her.

She's on my mind a lot these days. I miss her.

This is one of my favorite photographs: it reminds me of her.

bearing fruit

"There is a great difference between successfulness and fruitfulness. Success comes from strength, control, and respectability. A successful person has the energy to create something, to keep control over its development, and to make it available in large quantities. Success brings many rewards and often fame. Fruits, however, come from weakness and vulnerability. And fruits are unique. A child is the fruit conceived in vulnerability, community is the fruit born through shared brokenness, and intimacy is the fruit that grows through touching one another's wounds. Let's remind one another that what brings us true joy is not successfulness but fruitfulness."
~Henri Nouwen

I just totally hacked this quote from a lovely lady's blog; "Not Quite Mary Poppins" (isn't that sweet?) at Crazy Acres. Before you read on here you must promise to visit her when you are done, and show her a little bloggy love since I stole from her so blatantly.

I was visiting her just now, and when I read this quote on her sidebar I was struck by its wisdom. Success or fruitfulness. What is it that I truly seek?

If I am honest I will admit that I desire both. I want worldly success. I want to sell books and publish articles. I want to speak at conferences and do radio interviews. I want to be liked and admired for my intelligence, talent and wit. I want to be appreciated, and I want to see visible signs of that appreciation.

I also long for fruits. I want my sufferings to yield a bountiful harvest. I want my children to grow up loving the Lord, they being the best fruits I have to offer. If fruits truly come from weakness and vulnerability, as Nouwen says, I should be experiencing them bountifully, right? Because lately all I glory in are my tender points, my paper-thin skin, my quivering upper lip.

Nouwen doesn't mention if our fruits must be seen or experienced by us to bring us joy. Perhaps their existence brings us grace even if they remain hidden, only to be revealed to us in some distant space. (Heaven?)

I'm struggling. I have seen and felt, truly, some of the specific fruits that old Henri mentions. I know the community of brokenness, the intimacy of tending wounds. I have been so blessed by my children that it takes my breath away.

I've known success, as well, but the problem with success is that it is never, ever enough. It is inherently insufficient. What I achieve today pales tomorrow. My work will become nothingness, even though I've vainly convinced myself God wants to use it for His glory.

My friend Kate (how did I merit such a wonderful cyber-friend?) quotes Amy Welborn today on her blog - about writing.

She says "...I've learned some important lessons about faith from writing. Writing involves courage in sharing from deep within, without any certainty that it will do a bit of good. It involves a lot of waiting without a concrete reason to hope."

My heart and my words are intertwined, and on some occasions, like today, I just have to be courageous. Courageous without certainty....waiting....waiting.

I don't know if my longings for success and fruitfulness can be effectively balanced, nor am I confident of the path I have chosen. My fear is that I will be neither successful nor fruitful, just overcome with busyness, frantically doing and working and striving and always coming up short.

Welborn's words continue with thoughts on our Christian faith: "It strikes me that being a disciple of Jesus is also about stepping forward and waiting - every day. Holding on tight to the promise that its fulfillment - and our joy - will surely come."

There's that word again - joy. So joy comes from fruitfulness, from promises fulfilled. (And all this time I thought it came from seeing comments on my posts!) I am so far from Nouwen's mysticism and Welborn's wisdom that I find only sadness today in pondering the truth. It is quite easy to live a life that is neither successful nor fruitful, and if I am not careful, my selfishness will seal that.

Nouwen believed that what is most personal is also universal. It is in that spirit that I write today, hoping that I might heal and be healed by the sharing.

a new blog!

I'm excited to announce the arrival of a fabulous new blog...my musings on faith and fitness at In God's Image.
Many of us have a difficult time with our self-image. Should we spend time at the gym, on or knees, or a little of both? Visit me there to chew the fat about these important issues and more. Bring your own chocolate.

something hilarious I came upon today to entertain you because my blog has been too serious lately and I'm too lazy to write something funny of my own

You have got to check out Cris' blog.

The name drew me in and the FUNNY writing hooked me. I laughed out loud repeatedly....you will too!

Smile!

a book review

Today I received a lovely gift...this beautiful review of my book on Heidi Hess Saxton's new blog Behold Your Mother.

I feel so humbled by Heidi's kind words. All I can say is, we can do all things through Christ Who strengthens us.

You may visit brokenandblessed.com to learn more about the wonderful baby girl who inspired this story.

why are we here?

Oh dear, more existential pondering?

I'm just wondering why we (bloggers, not just ordinary people) are here.

Since I started blogging at the beginning of February, I've learned there's a whole world to discover. I've visited countless blogs ranging from the sincere to the silly. I've added to my vocabulary words that I didn't even know existed a month ago. Widgets and chicklets and memes, oh my!

At first I thought it was all about the writing, then I found out how cool it is to add fun things and choose a layout. (I'm on my second version so far, but don't be surprised if it changes again.) I visited the blogs of other Catholic writers, at first to flatter them with my imitation, then to discover the wisdom they had to offer. I found I was soon drawn in, eager to read what my new best friends had to say. Before I knew it I was neglecting the housework, burning chicken, telling children to go find someone else to wipe their bottoms. I had a blogging jones, and there was no denying it.

Thank God for God, and thank God He gave me a nudge this week. Hello...what are you doing, girl? What's this blogging business all about? As you joined St. Blog's Parish and submitted your blog to the Catholic Mothers Online, did you even think of Me?

I don't know what I was thinking. I was just dying to write.

When I was four, I taught myself to read. When I was six, I started writing. At seven, I produced my first play, and at eight a short story developed. (I still remember it: Mickey and Ghost, the story of a little orphan girl and her dog.)

As soon as I put pencil to paper, I knew who I was: a writer.

I used to say self-important things like this: "When a writer stops writing, she stops living." So have I been dead for the last thirty-odd years?

Of course not. I've met and married a wonderful man. I've given life to seven children. I've schooled them at home for over 15 years. But have I written? A bit, but not nearly enough.

Writing my book and having it published was a dream come true, and seeing it come to fruition opened a door in my heart that refuses to be shut. Sometimes it seems the obligations of my life are pushing hard on that door, daring me to wedge my foot between wood and jamb. So here I stand, steadfast, foolish and indignant, bold and sassy, weeping between words. Why are we here? Because we have to be.

If the first rule of good writing is write what you know, the second is write for your audience. So, since I've decided to weather the storm and write, who indeed is my audience? A woman I know, experienced in writing both online and off, agreed when I lamented that if no one reads it, my blog does not exist. It's starting to blow my mind. Maybe I'm not even here right now...

But supposing somewhere an audience awaits. Who am I writing for? Myself? My Lord? My mom?

Even with my limited experience, I know enough about blogging to say YES, I'm writing for all of those listed and more. Like all who feel compelled to write, I believe I have something to say, and I earnestly hope someone will listen.

So when God nudged me this week, I did some audience analysis, some honest evaluation. I am indeed writing for me, my Lord, and even my mom. And I'm writing for you, whoever you are.

But mostly I'm writing because I can, because it's what I do. God gives each of us tools, and if we leave them in a rusty toolbox we're simply lazy and irresponsible. For many years I asked, "Why did God give me talents if He didn't want me to use them?" Of course He wants me to use them, but as we all know God is the ultimate O.T.T. Master. (He has His own timetable, so don't get impatient.)

He knows what He's doing, and He's plenty patient with us while we figure out our end of the deal.

So why are we here? I can only speak for myself. I'm here to write, to share, to teach, to proclaim. I'm here to glorify my Savior, to rejoice in His Goodness, to pick up my hammer and nails and create something awesome. I'm here to write.

Who am I?

Yeah, who am I?

I wish I could say I was asking this in some sort of profound metaphysical way, but the truth is I'm having a hard time deciding who I am. As in what my name is. Is it Cathy or Catherine? For those of you with simple names that do not lend themselves to nicknames, pardon this foray into nonsense. For the rest of us, those of us who could be called Cat or Cath or even Kate, or Cath or Cathi or Cathie, who the heck are we?

My parents gave me my name, of course, and astonishingly no one shortened Catherine Louise to Cathy Lou until I shared my middle name with a new friend a few years ago. (Thanks, Kath....yes, I call her Kath. She goes by Katherine and even Q, but that's another story.) My parents also gave me my first nicknames, Dolly and Cherby. Neither of those took (thank God) but Cathy, the classic shortened version that I shared with three kindergarten classmates in 1971, stuck. So like it or not, I was stuck, too.

Stuck, that is, between Cathy and Catherine. I never thought much about it when I was younger. Cathy seemed just fine. I grew up in the 70's and 80's, not an era in which young girls reinvented themselves by devising creative new names. (At least not in my neighborhood.) I was used to being called Cathy, and even when I ventured off to college (ok, drove across town to an urban commuter campus) it didn't seem necessary to adopt a more mature label. But now, I'm a forty-something mom with six children. I'm launching a writing career a (my first book was published in September) and I'm trying to establish myself as an inspirational speaker. Who does those kinds of things? Is Cathy capable? Or is it time to call on Catherine?

Truth be told, I like my name (both variations. ) I don't go by Cathy because Catherine isn't appealing. I answer to it because my ears have grown accustomed, and I don't want to suddenly appear lofty to everyone who's gotten to know Cathy and liked her just fine, thank you. So what now?

I suppose I should've made the leap to Catherine when my book went to print. It would've been a great time to do it, as I was meeting new people and effectively starting anew as a writer. Catherine actually appears on the cover. But throughtout the story, which is an account of my youngest daughter's brief life, Cathy takes over. And the back cover is filled with praise for good ole Cathy, once again.

You'd think the subject matter of the book would be enough to help me reach the maturity of Catherine. It is a coming of age story in that my daughter's life and death chastened, humbled and transformed me. But when I type my name, I type Cathy. When I reach out my hand, I introduce Cathy. When I talk to myself, I say that old familiar name.

So today I set up this blog, and several blank white spots cried out for my identity. First I typed Catherine in every spot, but it didn't look right. So for now I'm Cathy. But you'll notice the nod to Catherine in my signature, sitting there all formal and proper waiting for me to grow up. I know she'll be there when I'm ready.