I've been hearing a lot about Ember Days the last week or so. In the past it was only ever a murmur. Now the movement is growing.


What are Ember Days? From the Catholic Encyclopedia:

"Ember days (corruption from Lat. Quatuor Tempora, four times) are the days at the beginning of the seasons ordered by the Church as days of fast and abstinence. They were definitely arranged and prescribed for the entire Church by Pope Gregory VII (1073-1085) for the Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday after 13 December (S. Lucia), after Ash Wednesday, after Whitsunday, and after 14 September (Exaltation of the Cross) [The saying is: Lenti, Penti, Cruci, Luci]. The purpose of their introduction, besides the general one intended by all prayer and fasting, was to thank God for the gifts of nature, to teach men to make use of them in moderation, and to assist the needy."

Like many good things, Ember Days were swept under the rug in the years following Vatican II. When the Church needed penance and prayer the most, it was abandoned. However, given the present crisis in the Church, Ember Days seems to be re-emerging. The crisis will get far worse, yet many good things will come from it. Consider participating in Ember Days. They go this Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday. Even simply forgoing TV for these days. Or giving some extra donations that you have been holding off. Do so for the needs and intentions of the Church.


And, of course:

DINKs with Kids

I'm not overly proud of that title. But you gotta do what you gotta do to get attention when writing.

Can one be a DINK at heart, even with children? I think so. By DINK of course I mean: Dual Income No Kids. You know DINKS right?  Why? What were you thinking? Grow up already! And I don't mean those couples who can't have children. Some couples who are unable to have children are heroic in how they carry on, and give of their time and resources. I mean the ones who choose not to have children, and then go spend all their loads of money on themselves.

I ask this straw-man question because of a reality TV show that Becca and I have been watching every Sunday night since Christmas. The show, which ended this past Sunday, is called House of Bryan: In the Sticks. In it one of our favourite house renovators/TV personalities, Bryan, decides to move his family from Oakville, ON, into a home out "in the sticks." Not really what we'd call "the sticks," but moving from Oakville to a secluded spot surrounded by horses and fields is as good as it gets there. So Bryan and his wife, who actually have four kids, buy a giant, but outdated, house in the country and then plan to build an addition on it. The episodes show the struggles of building while still living in the attached house. There are many stressful times (ex. leaking roof, damaging storms, etc), but also many joyous moments as well (ex. bringing in chickens). Well, as mentioned, the show ended with the grand unveiling of the new addition.

Yes, that is the house. That tiny little thing on the right is actually the old mansion. The whole thing is so over the top. It is both magnificent and utterly incomprehensible.

"So..." you ask, "what about this DINK thing?"

Look, Bryan and his family seem very nice. Bryan seems like a guy anyone would want to be friends with. They have four kids too, which in these sad times seems somewhat of a miracle. But... and yes, "who am I to judge?"... Bryan and his wife come off as DINKS at heart. They love their kids. They love them immensely. Allegedly the whole purpose for their move to the country was to allow their kids a better environment to grow up in. Really, it's anything but DINKdom.

And then they revealed the kids' rooms on Sunday.

Did I say rooms? Sorry. I meant palace suites that are just possibly too good for the royal family. We're talking bedrooms that you'd feel guilty walking into without first showering for an hour and then dressing up in a tux and top hat. Plush. Expensive to the max. Top of the line. All for the kids. Now two of the girls have the misfortune of having to share their own bathroom. Thankfully there are two sinks for them. The others... nope. No sharing. All for you. Two of the rooms, further still, are separated by a play room which to get into you first have to open the priciest antique doors. Yeah, antique doors leading to a playroom. And then there's the boy's room with the accent wall composed of reclaimed barn board$. All in all, to borrow an Aquinas analogy: as Becca and I prepare to look for bathroom supplies next week in preparation for a new reno project, I can't help but think anything we buy will seem like straw next to what we have seen.

DINKS at heart. In other words, while they love all of their kids immensely (again, I'm not judging them... relax!), they seem to miss the point. Kids don't really care about all that fancy stuff. It doesn't make them any happier. I think of Joseph in his room right now. The walls are missing chunks of paint, the floor is installed improperly, there's an old small shelf for his books. A blue tub for his/MY lego. And he's using my old dresser that I used when I was a little boy. Complete with the Estevan, SK - CJSL Country am780 Music Station stickers. But he's happy. He doesn't care. Kids don't really care, or shouldn't really care.

I think Bryan and his wife are going overboard for their kids, but in reality they are projecting themselves into these rooms. I think these high end suites are more for them than they are for their kids. They are DINKS at heart. Spending money foolishly; spending on their own concept of a perfect life.

But this misses the mark. There is an element of sacrifice in parenthood. I'm sure they've experienced it immensely. But sacrifice of your own money to create an unnecessary and over the top children's suite is the wrong kind of sacrifice. What is needed is sacrifice in teaching your children how to sacrifice. To not give them what you think they would like is itself a sacrifice. But it is a sacrifice that in turn teaches the kids how to also live a sacrifice. Where there is no sacrifice, there is only the appearance of self-giving. There is only DINKdom.

To conclude, sorry Bryan, in this instance I have to call you out for your extravagant house.

Now you can call me out for my poorly finished house. In my own way I guess I'm a DINK

Dwelling Incomplete, No Knowledge.