Happy (early) New Year to everyone!

As I write this, I figure the betting odds are around 70-30. That is, there is a 70% chance that I don't stay up to ring in the new year. Actually, there's probably a 85% chance I don't stay up, but a 15% chance that I either can't fall asleep, or that Joseph wakes me up around midnight. So all in all, 70-30.

May you all have a wonderful year. Mine will no doubt be filled with change. New baby. Finding a new job for the fall. Possibly finding a new home in a new town as well. Heck, I may even buy some new underwear. The possibilities are endless! Such optimism.

Or maybe more like...

Anyway, Happy New Year! And Happy Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God!

Christmas Ramblings and Little Elv(ise)s

Updates and random thoughts as we approach Christmas


1) The Christmas Concerts went very well! And people really seemed to enjoy them. However, afterwards people would come up to me and tell me where the concerts ranked in regards to previous years. Now they would be complimentary and all, "that was one of the best in... blah blah blah." Some even said it was the best yet. That's sort of the problem with living in the small town of Tisdale. Things are never meant to be enjoyed or cherished for what they are... they're only a subject to be compared to something else. So I would tell these people that if they think I volunteered 100+ hours just to get a high place in the Annual Tisdale Christmas Concert Ranking event, they can forget it. I know my students would think the same thing. Why should they care how it ranked against other years? It's about spreading some joy and happiness for people (especially the elderly in attendance) around Christmas. That's what drove me, and the students, to do our best and work so hard. Not in order to have a better ranking than Mrs. Myrtle Meanteacher from 1982, or whatever. A few people told me, though, that the concert made them cry at several points. Now that's something more meaningful! No offence Myrtle.


2) The most shocking part of the concerts? Hmmm... probably seeing that little kindergarten boy, standing in the front row, right in the middle, sort of with his hands down his pants during his last song. Sigh. I whispered to a nearby teacher: "should I turn the spot lights off?"


3) All in all, it's a pretty awesome feeling looking up at 200+ students for the final songs and seeing in their eyes that they would go through a wall for me. I've said it before: as much as I hated dealing with other teachers, I enjoyed every minute working with the kids. We worked so hard together, and had so much fun, and each group closed their concerts with an enthusiasm and beauty that I have not seen in them before. At one point I had to get someone to crank up the accompanying music. I could hardly hear it over the joyous chorus of "We Wish You a Merry Christmas!"


4) Unfortunately I was battling a flu bug during the concert days. I figured it was bound to happen, what with being so busy leading up to it. I was able to finish out the week, but then the bug hit me again hard Friday night/Saturday morning. And so there I was throwing my guts up to begin my joyous holiday break. I'm pretty well over it now. Thankfully Becca and Joseph escaped it (so far). The real damage will come when I try to get back into my workouts. That's always tough. To work so hard only to have 3 months worth of lifting be gone in one week of sickness. Somehow I think there's a life lesson in that. What does Rocky say to his son? Something like "it's not how hard you can hit, it's about how hard you can get it and keep going forward." That's pretty profound for this late at night. I'm sure in the morning it won't be nearly as impressive.


5) On another note, the past week I've specifically been analyzing each commercial I watch in order to see if the words "Merry Christmas" are spoken. To date I have not heard them yet! Our society has lost its collective mind. That about sums it up. Happy Holidays. How inclusive I guess. It's not for a lack of watching commercials either!

6) A little while ago Becca bought my favourite movie on DVD: The Bells of St. Mary's. Well we watched it over the past two nights, because that's what you do on Christmas break. Yes, I said it is my favourite movie. Obviously the movie is flawed in many ways. Fr. O'Malley never is seen offering the sacraments (even Joseph picked up on this, and was wondering when the Father would say Mass). The school debate of failing vs. hurting self esteem is laughable. The doctor/patient confidentiality is non-existent. But looking past all of that, there is something in the movie that shows a deep and beautiful truth which covers a multitude of sins. That is, humility conquers all. Fr. O'Malley, the one I jokingly nickname the "progressive," is continually humbled throughout the movie, and the more he embraces it, the more God's work can be seen. Same to for Sr. Mary Benedict. So many of life's problems can be solved by humbly submitting to God. Either that, or by crooning a tune while playing on a piano that always seems to be conveniently nearby.


7) We're off to Nipawin tomorrow for Christmas! It'll be absolutely crazy there. The whole family will be showing up. Thankfully nearby neighbours who are away are letting some of us sleep at their place while their family goes away for the break.

Hmm, I think I blew a few grammar rules with that.


8) I used to just love Midnight Mass. Lately the Mass has been terrorized by the liberals and their I-just-wannabe-Elvis choir. The challenge at these Masses now is to find the peace of Christ despite these shameful hijacked Liturgical events. "Will the lady sing the psalm tomorrow night while wearing her Santa hat again?" "Will they break out the drums on the final song again?" (not likely, after I hide them tomorrow afternoon...). Yes, Jesus is there. But I always counter with, "yes, but I have senses that experience the other 'stuff' as well." Nevertheless, Christ's joy must ring out in my heart, even as it suffers this deprived and hopeless generation. In some ways being surrounded by the libs forces me to pray harder, and seek Christ all the more. Thankfully the Millette family choir will be doing the music Christmas morning. You know, just in case hymns such as Adeste Fidelis aren't too outta place with these hippy times. Note though, the only hippy times comes from the sound of another choir member breaking a hip. In other words, YOU GUYS ARE OLD! GIVE IT UP! Not to break their doctor/patient confidentiality though.


9) Haha. Ok, now it's really time for bed. But before I go, on behalf of Becca, Joseph and baby, I want to wish you all a very Happy Holidays!

Who am I kidding. MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Daddy Knows Best

Becca asked me to write a blog about my awesome parenting skills. I told her  that I shouldn't because it's not nice to brag. Nevertheless, she insisted. Or at least in my mind I could hear her insisting. Here are just a few examples of how Joseph is benefiting from my parenting.



"Bucket"

To begin, for some reason Joseph and I were watching this 6 second clip.

Soon after, if Joseph was acting up at supper time, or any other time, I would startle him with a: "Bah Joseph STOP IT!.. Butthead!"

Then one day, to my great shock, and secret delight, Joseph yelled at his mother: "Bah Mommy stop it!  Bucket..."

I assume by "bucket" he means "butthead." Anyway, how was I to know that this would catch on? Now even if I say "stop it" to him, he always replies with "bucket!"

Becca has since forbidden me from saying "stop it" to him. Therefore, Joseph is free to do whatever he wants now, because we're not allowed to say "stop it."



"Wanna Play Cars"

When I was little I was taught to greet people by saying "hello." Joseph's greeting consists of "wanna play cars?" Anytime I come home from work he always greets me by tugging at my hand and saying "wanna play cars?" So, we go and play cars. The problem is that Joseph doesn't really know how to play cars. So I teach him. First we each take a car and drive them around their little make shift town. Then the cars drive to their "spot" and take a pee. After the pee they give a loud sigh of relief ("ahhhh") and drive over to the bank. They usually steal some money from the bank and then drive off singing a hip hop infused "I got the money... boom boom... I got the money..." (stereotype, I know). Joseph usually accompanies this song by jumping up and down. The police, or "wee-oh-wee-ohs," then chase the cars, but usually get distracted when our cars throw them a donut. Next, the cars go get some gas. It is at this point that they usually run into the gasoline truck, and everything blows up. Afterwards our cars have a conversation. They say "Hi, how are you? Bye." And then they drive off to eat some hamburgers. After the hamburgers they go get a car wash. All of the water reminds them that they have to go pee, and so they go find their "spot" and have a relieving pee. And the story repeats itself.



"Let's go workout"

For those of you who don't know this, Joseph is a pound-for-pounder. In other words, he's a strong and tough little guy. I take him downstairs to work out with me quite often. When down there we each lift our own weights, and are sure to grunt out loud when they're really heavy. We then compliment each other on how strong we are. Joseph will usually stay down there with me for a good 30-45 minutes. Just exercising away. No wonder he has the Bod-from-God.


I suppose I could go on, but it's not nice to brag.

I guess that means I should stop it...

 

"Bucket!"

The Baby is Coming

It's so wonderful and refreshing to prepare for Christmas with a toddler! For Joseph, everything is new and exciting. But more than that, there's no consumerism, no greediness, no obsession with the perfect this or that.

He is excited by lights on the houses outside and the blow-up snow bear on the lawn down the street. He loves pointing out Christmas trees everywhere, but is just as happy to believe that any undecorated green needle tree outside is also a Christmas tree. He had tons of fun making spice cookies and decorating them with sprinkles loaded and dumped from his Lego bulldozer.

Joseph was asked by two different people after Mass this morning whether Santa was coming to his house. He gave them a blank stare.

It's not that he doesn't know who Santa is -- he does. He's the guy in the white and red with the beard that we have to search for in one of our library books. He's the blow up guy at the grocery store that he runs over to say hi to. He's the guy on the Thomas the Train movie that goes for a crazy sled ride and is finally saved by Thomas. He's the guy who brings gifts to Clifford the dog's house on Christmas Eve and almost fills up the stocking that Clifford is stuck in. Joseph's not sheltered or anything -- yeesh (haha)! But he has no idea to expect Santa to visit his house or bring him presents.

And why not? Because Christmas is Baby Jesus' birthday!

Joseph knows we're buying gifts for others. He's so excited when new little white package tags come in our mailbox and he gets to hand them to the post-lady and receive a parcel back. He knows that a present came in the mail for his cousin Catherine that we're going to give her. He even knows something came in the mail from his Grandpa and Grandma in Ontario for him. But he's not really that interested in the presents at all.

Joseph's more interested in telling us that Christmas is coming and that means "The Baby is Coming!" It's Jesus' "Hapby Dayay!"

My best efforts at the library last week to find any books with the true Christmas story turned up just a couple and only one he really likes. It's a small one with quirky little illustrations about Joseph and Mary's journey to Bethlehem and quest to find an Inn. On each page, someone will tell someone, "the Baby is coming!" The response of the others in the scene is always to hurry and prepare in some way. I didn't get it for the illustrations, which show strange bearded angels announcing "The Baby is coming" to Mary and later to the shepherds. I got it for essence of the thing -- the real deal Christmas story.

And Joseph loves it! The simple line carried throughout the story resonates with him and is enough. He was reading the story in Mass today, in the middle of Father's homily, loud and clear for everyone to hear: "The Baby is coming!" He gets that Mary is having a baby because Mommy is too. He gets that the baby at the end is THE BABY, Baby Jesus, because everyone comes to see him and celebrates!

And isn't that how simple it should be: everyone celebrating, not because Santa is coming or because they're getting loads of gifts, but because Jesus is coming. After all, isn't that what Christmas is all about? In the eyes of a toddler, it's not confusing, it's just "Hapby Dayay, Jesus!"

A few things

Just a few notes:



Two down, two to go.

Today/tonight's concert is Kindergarten to grade 2. Things have gone very well so far. Well, I seem to have caught a touch of the flu over the weekend, and I'm having a tough time shaking it. No big deal. I just go home and whine to Becca and Joseph.

- - -

The expansion draft was yesterday. Among the Rider players selected was Keith Shologan. Too bad. He's a great player, and even better guy. He was actually supposed to come to Tisdale next month to speak at a faith night at the rink, and to visit our school. I doubt that will happen now.

- - -

Happy Birthday Pope Francis! I was met by the headline on cbc.ca this morning: "Pope Francis Lauded by Gay-Rights Magazine on 77th Birthday."

Sigh.

Nevertheless, happy birthday!

Break a Leg... Hear them Break... Soon it will be Christmas Day

 

Everything seems set for next week's Christmas Concerts. The students know their stuff, the decorations, lights, and sound/video systems are all hooked up and ready to go. Even the chairs are now in place.

 

It sure has been a lot of work! I've probably spent over 80 hours of my own time on these concerts thus far, not counting all of the school time. It's hard to believe no one else was willing to take charge, hey. In fairness to me, I was told I was going to be in charge by our VP. It's not like I had a choice. 



It hasn't always been pretty. I've had numerous spats with teachers here who seem intent on being uncooperative and, forgive me for saying this, stunned. But on the other hand, some of the teachers have been an absolute joy to work with. Through it all though, I can honestly say I've enjoyed every moment with the kids. When we practice together, we all get big smiles on our faces as we sing the songs. Maybe it's because they're laughing at me and my conducting (I'm very very animated... but it's my job to get 200+ little kids looking my way and singing with enthusiasm); nevertheless, we certainly have a fun time. I am most looking forward to singing Old Toy Trains with the grade 2s, and then conducting them in I Saw Three Ships. I also like the energy from the grade 3-5s with Santa Claus is on His Way. Here's hoping it all goes well! Break a leg. Apparently it will be standing room only for both nights.

 

 

Sadly though, or perhaps more annoyingly, liberalism reeled its ugly, relativistic, disobedient-in-the-name-of-unity, head again this week. I've had to spend some time wading into the anti-Latin going-ons in Nipawin. I'll write more about it during my Christmas break. Until then, I'll just hope that these liberals crawl back under their little rocks where they are more appreciated.

They're not going to dampen our excitement and joy for the coming of Christ!



Baby Update

27 weeks! Yay! 

It's wonderful how much faster it seems to be going this time around. With Joseph it was just an impatient waiting, waiting. But with this little one (whom we don't have a pet name for... hmm), I'm so busy running around after Joseph that I don't have time to think through every stage like I did last time - a blessing and disappointment.

Advent is a truly wonderful time to be pregnant! It has given me a built in opportunity in the Liturgical year to be a little more thoughtful of the wondrous thing that is happening inside of me. As I grow bigger and rounder everywhere (!) and feel the perpetual little kicks of this baby of ours, I am again and again reminded of how Our Lady also went through all these stages with the baby Jesus. And I am thankful that I don't have to ride a donkey at the end of my pregnancy!

Of course, the expectation of pregnancy and the waiting lends itself perfectly to what our own expectation and waiting for the newborn Christ-child should be. It is an expectation that is also a preparation. And as I think through the things I need to get or do in the next three months before our little one comes out, I remember to take things slowly with the Christmas season too. Not to rush as though Christmas is already here, but to see Advent as it truly is, a time of preparing for Jesus' birth, spiritually and in the gift buying, baking, and decorating.

For a long time, Joseph was convinced that both he and Mommy were having babies. I think he's beyond that stage now, but what's replaced it is almost more humourous. We came home from a pro-life walk in the fall with a tiny little fetal model nestled in a flannel sleeping bag with soccer balls all over it. Joseph loves it! And as it was just about the same size as our baby at the time, it was a perfect way to show him what our baby looked like. I think it's been in his coat pocket for over a week now, after it was his toy of choice to bring to his Aunty's music recital. I wondered throughout the recital what other people around us must think if they noticed Joseph playing with this tiny little plastic baby. I guess it's a good pro-life witness!

But since he can transport his own little baby around like that so easily, he has begun to pretend to "move" the baby inside of me between persons. One evening recently he "took" the baby from my belly and put it in his own. Then he decided to grace Dan's belly with the baby for a bit. But when Dan was pretending to poke the baby back when it kicked him, Joseph decided that was enough and my belly was a much safer place for the baby!

And, in case you're curious, our baby is a cauliflower now!

"They're being funny!"

Sometimes I use this old blog as an output for the many cute things I see day in, day out that some moms write in baby books or journals, neither of which I've really gotten into doing. They're things for me to remember, but I like to share them too. This is one such post. If you're bored or uninterested, I don't mind, you can stop reading anytime.

You see, my sweet little boy is growing up right before my eyes. And as the distance between he and I as he sits on my lap increases, I realize that soon it won't be just us anymore and he'll be the big brother to a baby we can see and touch. And I won't remember what life was like with just one little one nor all the things he was doing just a few short months before.

*****

Everyday after lunch time, as Dan is getting ready to head back out to work (aren't we lucky he comes home for lunch every day?!) we have a little goodbye kiss ritual. It used to be a competition for which of us (Joseph or I) would get the coveted last kiss. But now he's quite willing to give Daddy one kiss and let Mommy have the last one. He'll hang around in the kitchen and tell Dan, "Bye, I have to give the kiss!" When his kiss is planted, he shoves me towards Dan with a commanding, "Give Daddy kiss!"

The kisses go for all his favourite people when he's saying goodbye, most often Grandma, Grandpa, and Aunty Lynda. It's cute and funny! But sometimes I know it's gone way too far when Joseph orders me to give Aunty Lynda a kiss goodbye.

And along with kisses, props (knuckles) has become another goodbye activity, although not as regular. Joseph goes around saying "props" to whomever is leaving or just hanging around. Finally, he says "Props for Mose" and smashes his own two knuckles together.

Another almost daily ritual is to accompany Mommy or Daddy when we go to the bathroom. What is it with little kids that they like to "watch"? But for Joseph just watching isn't enough. He picks up his two rubber duckies and has to make them "pee" on the toilet too. I have to work hard to keep him from having them use the toilet at the same time as me. He's also taken to sighing in relief, "ahh," after his own toilet pees (someone in our household taught him this and it wasn't me!), so now the ducks have to sigh too.

*****

If you know Joseph on any level, you know he's a huge talker! He may or may not take after his mother. He's so desperate to start conversations sometimes, but doesn't really know how to continue them. Multiple times a day he comes up to say, "Hi, how'r you?" It's not so much that he's looking for a reply, but just wants to know that we're communicating on some meaningful level. Even his cars, Lego horses, and teddy bears communicate this way, as he makes them talk back and forth.

It must be due to our frigid temperatures here these days (weeks!) and our lack of outdoor activity, because Joseph has taken up going for walks in the house. "Wanna go for a walk?" he'll ask me, taking my hand. If I'm not too busy (or if his perseverance wears me out) I take his hand and we walk around and around our circular living-room to kitchen route. Sometimes these walks lead to little conversations, like "How'r you, Mommy?" 

*****

And speaking of frigid temperatures -- -40 for most of the last couple weeks -- Joseph has taken to checking the temperature for me. He'll leave the room or I'll walk into our office to find him sitting in front of the computer. "I checking the temperature!" he tells me, as though he knows it's a good excuse for being on the computer. 

Despite Dan getting up night after night for the past few months to go in and sleep with Joseph or lay with him for a few minutes when he calls in the middle of the night, he still inevitably wakes up yelling, "MOMMY!" If nothing but MOMMY will help, Dan brings him into our bed with me and goes back to attempt sleep in Joseph's bed. Often, Joseph still has to start with a greeting, "Hi Mommy. How'r you?" And while in my head I'm thinking "Get back to sleep you little pest!" it's really a little cute. He usually asks where Daddy is too and seems to wonder why we don't all just sleep in the same bed all the time!

*****
I love me a little compliment every once in a while and Joseph has a real knack for making me smile with his source of compliments! Dare I say, I'm not sure who he learned this from because his Dad takes his cues from Joseph. If I'm brushing my hair he'll say, "Oooo, nice hair!" If I make something he especially likes for supper he'll gobble big bites and with mouth full say, "Mmmm, I like it!" If I'm wearing a skirt he'll pat it and tell me, "Oooo, fancy!" And if I have nylons on with my skirt... I'm sure you women can figure this one out! But my favourite was last week as we were climbing into his bed for a nap after I'd changed the sheets that morning: "Oooo, fancy sheet, Mommy!" 

Joseph loves a little humour! His fake laugh has become a standard for when he doesn't get the joke or when he's run out of real laughs, but still wants to keep up the joke. When we ask him to tell us a joke these days, he's usual reply is "Joke!" Since that got old very quickly, Dan tried teaching him a very simple Knock, Knock joke. It always goes wrong! The other day as I was pleasantly in the bathroom all by myself, Joseph knocked on the door, saying "Knock, knock!" "Who's there?" I replied. His answer, "Boo hoo!" with a quick, "Don't cry!" Joseph also loves to tell us when something is funny (stating the obvious is a trait he learned from his mother). "That's funny!" he'll laugh. Or when some daily-Mass goers were laughing at something, "They're being funny?!"

A Most Highly Favoured Lady?

I remember talking a while back with a lady from our old parish who is a good friend of ours. Briefly, she is a very devout woman whom Becca and I always joke that if we ever need anything, we just get her to pray for it. She prays with great trust, and subsequently has tremendous faith. So there we were talking on a Sunday afternoon. I was enthusiastically telling her about the Mariology course I was working on. I was about to talk about something really special that I had just learnt, that is, the importance of a proper translation of Luke 1:28.

Warning: Nerdy Biblical Exegesis Ahead

You see, Luke 1:28 is where the angel Gabriel greets Mary with, what Luke writes in Greek as, "kecharitomene." In the RSV Bible kecharitomene is translated as “Hail, O favored one!” Yet, in this instance the translator is indeed a traitor.

Examining kecharitomene closer reveals much more than Mary as being simply favoured. Indeed, kecharitomene is, in fact, the perfect past participle of the verb charitoo, Thus, a perfect past participle carries the connotation of a previous passive change, for to be passive means that it is done to you, to be past means it happened in the past, and to be perfect means the past action is completed. In other words, if kecharitomene is the perfect past participle of charitoo, or “grace,” than Mary passively received this grace, in the past, and that this previous reception is completed. 

Ok, what am I saying here? That Gabriel's greeting to Mary declares a previous completed action of grace in Mary, but this completed action also is in place for her subsequent divine motherhood. In other words, kecharitomene essentially teaches that Mary was Immaculately Conceived; that God perfectly prepared her with the fullness of grace in correlation with her impending Divine motherhood. The translation of “Hail, full of grace,” then, is much more suitable than “O favored one,” for it speaks more to the prevenient grace in Mary (Immaculately conceived, and thus fully with grace) which has made her suitable to be the Mother of God.

Nerdy Biblical Exegesis Completed: Resume Reading

So there I was about to tell this person all this incredible exciting stuff regarding the necessity of the Immaculate Conception, and how it is evident in a true translation of Scripture. But she cut me off... She started going on about how the more she prays about it, the more she knows that Mary must have been Immaculately Conceived because of how humble she was. She explained that not only the humility of Mary is evidenced in the Annunciation, but also that this humility allows for her to be declared full of grace. Finally, she concluded that, after praying about it, she believes Mary was given the fullness of this humility beforehand in preparation for her mission, and thus ultimately the angel Gabriel in the Annunciation is simply declaring to Mary what has already been completed by God: i.e. the Immaculate Conception.

"Oh wow." I replied to her.

Yep, by deep prayer with God she figured out exactly what countless hours of my Master's studies have brought to my attention. "So there..." I thought, "what a waste!" Why spend thousands of dollars on courses and books, and hours and days and months and years studying, when you can know all of this stuff directly from God through prayer?

Some are just more favoured than others, I guess.

Happy Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception!

Mass of Recondisobedience

iro·ny

 noun \ˈī-rə-nē also ˈī(-ə)r-nē\

: a situation that is strange or funny because things happen in a way that seems to be the opposite of what you expected

Last night our parish decided to have a Mass of Reconciliation before the Advent confession-hour. It is ironic that the Mass was spent asking for God's mercy, all the while being extremely disobedient to the Church's rubrics of Mass. Sort of like: God, we ask for your mercy on us as we strive to disobey you.

Isn't that like a man bragging about his humility? It just doesn't add up.

Poverty of Spirit

With all the Black Friday and Cyber Monday hype in the past week, we've seen a fare bit of what our consumerist culture looks like. The irony of Black Friday following immediately upon American Thanksgiving was pointed out more than once. I too was curiously browsing the Internet and out and about last Friday morning here in town to see if I could catch any deals. I'll be the first to admit I'm a huge sucker for discounts. But the advertising seems to be way out of proportion to any deal you get (at least here in Canada) and in the end the biggest deal I got was another lesson on consumerism and detachment from "stuff."

I often reflect on what it means to be "poor in spirit." How does one go against the cultural mantra that tells us to "buy, buy, buy" and find true peace in detachment from earthly possessions? I like stuff. I like shopping. But I'm drawn, sometimes against my own will, back again and again to the Gospel message: "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven." If Christ told us that to enter Heaven we have to be "poor in spirit," then I'd better figure out what that means and try to do it.

In reading Saint Josemaria Escriva last night, I came across this passage: "True poverty is not to lack things but to be detached, to give up voluntarily one's dominion over them. That's why some poor people are really rich... and vice versa (The Way, 632)."

In my mind I argued, "But I do lack things!" I could make a huge list. We don't own living room furniture, we don't have enough dressers, we have mismatched second-hand kitchen table and chairs... I had someone come to my house once who asked, "How do you keep your house so clean?" My response, "Well, I guess we just don't have much." Yet we have everything we need. Despite Dan only earning a 77% teaching salary even while having the credentials to get the highest salary on the grid, we don't lack for any basic needs. We have money in the bank that we could go out and buy nice leather couches or beautiful bedroom furniture, but we're hoping sometime soon to settle down more and buy a house.

But I'm caught up in what the world tells me or Pintrest shows me: this beautiful home/tv/decor could be yours! For a price. And would it make me happy or peaceful? Of course not! I'd just want more. So how, in this stage of life when there are many things that I could legitimately desire, can I find peace and happiness in practicing poverty of spirit?

I think the answer lies in three main areas: generosity, gratitude, and joy. And I think this goes for practicing this Beatitude regardless of whether you are rich or poor. I have met relatively wealthy people in my life who don't seem to care that they live in a gorgeous home or have many beautiful things. To them, it's all possessions they realize they aren't taking with them when they go. These people are some of the most selfless, generous people I've ever me. Likewise, I've met many people who are hard up, who barely make ends meet. And they are some of the most joyful and grateful people I have ever met. These souls practice poverty of spirit, in their wealth or poverty. It's the attitude that what we have is a gift from God to use, to share, to take joy in, but ultimately to leave behind when we head to a better place. 

"Detach yourself from the goods of this world," Saint Josemaria tells me. "Love and practice poverty of spirit: be content with what is sufficient for leading a simple and temperate life (The Way, 631)."

In the end, I realize that what I need isn't some Black Friday deal that will make me smile for a week and ultimately not help me get to my final destination; it isn't that dream home I've been designing in my mind for years. Rather, it is a joyful gratitude for my many, many blessings. Having less could make me envious of others or an online browse-aholic, or it could make me grateful I don't have clutter to clean up all the time. Having less could make me feel like I'm poor, or it could help me learn to be detached and "poor in spirit." Because, whether I like it or not, I'm not going to have a U-Haul behind my funeral procession or riches to rot with me in my grave. I might as well try out the "poverty in spirit" because it promises a whole lot more riches than I could ever imagine.

Commie-union

Not much blogging going on here lately. Sorry. As Becca referred to in the previous blog, I am in charge of the two Christmas Concerts at my school (we need two completely different concerts because there are 375 students here and we'd never fit al the students and parents in the gym at the same time). In addition to organizer, I also get to be the director, script writer, video, sound, and light technician, and all around take care of everything person. I don't mind too much. Though I really couldn't care less about running a secular Christmas concert, I have strategically inserted references to Jesus and the true meaning of Christmas throughout. So there are some benefits to being in charge.

But this whole experience has confirmed my belief that worker's unions are geared towards communism. Not that all unions are bad. Some are very necessary. But by and large they inherently accomplish exactly what they set out not to do.

Teacher unions are meant to pay each teacher on a set salary. In theory, we're all comrades making the same amount, and doing the same amount of work. In the words of Rev. Audry, the author of the suspiciously communist Thomas the Train stories: we all then get to be "really useful engines" to the system.

But teaching sometimes becomes a side distraction at schools. In other words, between all of the after school clubs, committees, intramurals, concerts, special events, and so on, teaching really can be taken over by the other jobs. If all teachers did was teach, it would be a pretty cushy gig. Here's where the equal division of labour in unions meets reality. The division of the non-teaching work, which is very significant, is not equally distributed. In short, fallen human nature takes over. There are the hard workers, and there are the lazy workers. All earn the same paycheck. Some actually do double the work of others. There are two experienced female teachers in my school who are involved in nearly everything. These two teachers easily, EASILY, do the same amount of non-teaching work as 12 other teachers here combined. But everyone collects the same paycheck, according to the salary grid. Unions, like communism, ultimately have a fundamental flaw. They do not reward good hard work.

Not that we should be seeking our reward here on earth.