30-Second Read: Dog Poop Humility

There was dog poop (not belonging to my dog) in my driveway the other day and my first reaction was disgust, followed closely by anger. But, thanks to all the stories I've read of super-suffering and humble saints, I quickly saw the poop as an opportunity! Service! Humility!

I will clean up this poop with a bright heart and a shiny-happy countenance and I will whistle a tune. Just like St. Faustina in her diary, I will say, "Help me, O Lord, that my hands may be merciful and filled with good deeds, so that I may do only good to my neighbors and take upon myself the more difficult and toilsome tasks."

But then I got a bunch of the poop smeared on my hand and under my fingernails and the efforts toward humility were drained from my soul and I stomped around muttering various threats and cuss words just under my breath.

St. Faustina asked God to fill her hands with good deeds. Mine were filled with dog poop. I suppose when I can more clearly see how these can be the same thing, I will be one step closer to sainthood. One giant step.

Five Things I've Learned About Leading a Catholic Moms' Group

1) We really need each other.

A huge part of the reason my friend Kristi and I wanted to start a moms' group at our parish in the first place was because we were in need of friendship with other Catholic moms. I was new to Catholicism and had four young children, one of whom was a newborn, so there were all kinds of things I wanted help with - both faith-related and mothering-related. I yearned for a place I could grow in my faith, ask questions when I needed to, AND find solace in the throes of potty training.

At our planning meeting, I passed out a questionnaire to find out about the wants and needs of the little group that was forming. Each woman had different ideas and questions, but every one said she hoped to meet other moms. Introvert or extrovert, working or stay-at-home, one child or six, Filipino or Mexican, black or white, cradle Catholic or convert, we moms need other moms in our lives.

2) Many will come for the friendship and stay for the Jesus.

I've had enough conversations over the years to know that some of the thinking goes like this: "I don't really need any more church stuff, I just want to meet other moms." Or: "I guess I can listen to them talk about the Real Presence because that one lady makes amazing brownies." Oddly, though, the closer we get to each other in a place where Jesus is at the center of the activity, the more open we become to growing in our relationships to not just each other, but Him.

3) You can minister to a group of stay-at-home moms and working moms in the same room.

For all of the potential conflict that exists in Mom-Land, (natural birth vs. meds; bottle vs. breast; organic food vs. Pop Tarts;) one of the most sensitive is between the working mom and the stay-at-home mom. You can detect this on TV, in books, and on social media. But guess what? In six years of leading this moms' group that has a pretty even amount of both kinds of moms, I have found the spiritual needs of both to be fairly similar, if not exactly the same. True, one might think she's more tired than the other, and they dress a little different, but they're going through almost all the same experiences in their mothering, their marriages, and their spiritual journeys.

4) It may be easier to discuss the Church's teachings on contraception with a glass of wine in your hand.

Not every Catholic woman embraces or even understands what our Church has to say about openness to life, sexual morality, Confession, divorce, annulments, preparation for the sacraments, the priesthood, or the authority of the Pope. Because I am still a relatively new Catholic, these topics are often at the forefront in my thinking, especially when I'm around other Catholics. I want to talk! I want to poll everyone! I want to ask questions! Not everyone wants to discuss this stuff, but most do - and it goes over even better when you can find a comfy place to sit and sip a glass of wine, or beer, or a really large margarita. Sometimes it doesn't even take alcohol. One of the best discussions about contraception that I've been a part of took place years ago over frozen yogurt, and then morphed into a book group and we all learned a lot.

5) Partnership in ministry is so much more effective and fun than doing it solo.

I would not have started the moms' group alone. I never could have kept it going if so many wonderful women hadn't come along and joined in the effort. Because we all have busy lives and hordes of children between us, sometimes the scheduling didn't work and I scrambled to assemble the content for a meeting by myself. Those were depressing times. When I have a good idea, a partner can make it even better. When I'm stuck or clueless or lazy, a partner pulls me through, helps me plan, and motivates me.

What a joy to reflect on the wisdom I've gained from these treasured years. Many of my best friends were made in our moms' group, and it has given me a trillion good memories. Thanks be to God that He showed me my need for community all those years ago.

Merry Fourth!

I've often said the Fourth of July is my favorite holiday because it is so low-maintenance. Holidays like Christmas and New Years have so much build-up and so many high expectations they are difficult to survive. In order to sort out my feelings on the topic, I'm going to compare and contrast the Fourth of July with Christmas.

Fourth of July: Friends

Christmas: Family, and that includes Grandpa Lou who starts drinking shortly after dawn

Fourth of July: Fireworks

Christmas: Presents for everyone, even the bug guy and the neighbors who just moved in and Great-Aunt Elda who never wants anything but you have to get something anyway

Fourth of July: Star-Spangled Banner

Christmas: Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer

Fourth of July: Grilled meat

Christmas: Figgy pudding. Or a Turducken.

Fourth of July: Red, white, and blue matching t-shirts for the whole family

Christmas: New suits and fancy dresses for the whole family except for little Junior who refuses to wear anything but his Batman costume

Fourth of July: The Declaration of Independence

Christmas: Jesus

Fourth of July: Pinterest desserts in patriotic colors. Pinterest decorations indoors and out.

Christmas: Pinterest recipes for desserts in red and green, Pinterest crafts, Pinterest Santa treats, Pinterest ornaments, Pinterest manger scenes, Pinterest blueprints for snow forts, Pinterest holiday diets, Pinterest patterns for handmade stockings, Pinterest list of "100 Must-Keep Christmas Traditions."

Fourth of July: Sweltering heat and profuse sweating at the hometown parade

Christmas: Church

Fourth of July: Go to bed to the sounds of neighborhood incendiaries and bombs bursting in air

Christmas: Go to bed aware of either the peace and silence of falling snow or the cat romping in torn wrapping paper or Grandpa Lou passed out and snoring in the hallway

I Could've Warned Them

My brother and sister-in-law, James and Rachel, are super-athletic and outdoorsy folks who do things like cross-country ski to a remote yurt for FUN. Their home gym takes up a whole floor of their house. And they buy Christmas presents for each other like crampons and rain kilts for all-weather hiking.

So last year they went on this big ol' hike to the Middle Teton. They went with their good friend Mac, who is a guide and the director of a university outdoor rec department. They camped at the trailhead the night before and woke up at three o'clock in the morning to begin the fourteen-mile hike with 6,000 feet of elevation gain. They got caught in a thunderstorm well into the day and had to stop hiking and stay low to avoid being struck by lightning. This was a 90-minute hold-up. But that kind of thing happens to seasoned hikers all the time and they know how to handle it and how to stay safe. Plus they are well-prepared and have good gear. Once the storm passed, it was a satisfying ascent and they were thrilled to make the summit.

On the way down, Rachel was not looking forward to crossing the snow fields. She felt ill-prepared despite the time they had spent learning and practicing self-arresting with an ice-axe at the beginning of the day. During a pep talk given by James as they carefully crossed the ice, Rachel slipped and fell and careened down a 50-foot long, 60-degree slope. She hit the rocks at a frightening speed and James said he was thinking that she was going to have a lot of broken bones. He was terrified. So was Rachel. She tried to do the things she'd been taught in order to slow a fall, but nothing was working. At the bottom, she hit the rocks, jumped up and shouted, "I'm okay!" Mac had descended the slope ahead of her, and was by her side in seconds. He had to ask her to sit down so he could check for broken bones and he was concerned she might pass out from shock. James was at her side not too long after Mac. He slid down the ice feet first and stomach down probably almost as fast as Rachel in her uncontrolled fall. And here's the part of the story that I can't quit thinking about -- James was in a panic and he immediately started asking, "Why did this happen? What went wrong?" In fact, he repeated this line of questioning uncontrollably enough that Mac asked him to take a breath and try to sit down.

I keep repeating that question to myself, incredulously: Why did this HAPPEN? Are you KIDDING me? Let me answer that. You were climbing over ice on a mountain that was treacherous enough to require helmets and fancy shoes and a sharp axe but the shoes and the axe didn't work and Rachel fell! DUH.

Are you like my brother? Do you trust your equipment and expect things to go well? Are you surprised when things go wrong?

Or are you like me? Here is what I might have said if I had been at the bottom of the slope:

"OH MY GOD! I KNEW THIS WAS GOING TO HAPPEN! I KNEW IT!"

I knew the equipment would fail and someone would slip. Except I really didn't. But in my mind, the fear is so strong that often, when I complete adventures or even daily tasks unharmed it is quite a surprise. Wow! I made it off the mountain alive! I got to my car without being attacked in the parking lot! No one kidnapped my child at the beach! You get the picture. I don't know that I can ever learn to fully believe that things don't always turn out tragically. For me, the key is to keep on doing things even when they involve risk. Not crazy risk, but enough to keep life interesting. I'd rather be surprised by success than doomed and confined to my house by the fear of failure.

Happy Couple? Trying!

Look at this happy-looking couple. This photo was taken last month on the morning of our 16th wedding anniversary. I posted it on Facebook and I hoped people saw it and thought, "Gosh! Teri's hair looks cute!" and "Wow! Aren't they the poster couple for fabulous marriages? I want to be more like them!" But I try not to lie all the time, so I'll confess that while yes, my hair does turn out cute sometimes, I don't qualify to be a part of a fabulous-marriage poster couple. At least not over the past couple of years.

Since April of 2012, we've had some circumstances in our lives that have caused a lot of stress and anxiety and we have dealt with them by arguing, fighting, yelling, using the silent treatment, threatening, despairing, going on anti-depressants, having another drink, overeating, complaining to friends, manipulating, and putting on brave faces to cover the murderous rage. I think we owe it to our stubbornness and senses of humor that I sit here tonight writing this post to offer some encouragement for other not-quite-fabulous couples along with a list of what has been helping.

If your marriage is less than perfect, here is my encouragement for you:

You're not alone, I swear. Someone is going through the exact same thing you are. Maybe worse. Maybe involving drugs or jail time or a worse upbringing than yours. But it's a true statement: you're not alone. If people weren't so afraid to share their struggles, they would be a lot better off and so would we all. Maybe you can work toward that by being more honest yourself. You'd be surprised at the things people will share once you've been honest about your own crap. And then everybody feels better.

It's worth it. It is worth a tremendous amount of sacrifice, a lot of hard work, any amount of money, and as many tears as it takes to attain a good marriage. It is better to be in a good marriage than a bad marriage. And it's better to be in a good marriage than to be divorced. No one in the world can argue with these two statements. So it's worth it to do what it takes to get into a good marriage. Don't sit around miserable hoping things will eventually change on their own. They won't. You'll just continue in your bad marriage and eventually one of you will leave or you will grow old together but separate and WHY DO THAT IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? I have a friend going through a divorce right now. Of all the reasons I've heard for divorce, most of them stink, but not hers. And even with a good reason for the divorce, the whole process is heart-wrenching and awful and if she could have worked out the problems and stayed married, she would have.

What I've learned After These Rough Two+ Years:

1) Go to God. Keep going to church. If you are Catholic, keep receiving the sacraments of the Eucharist and Confession. Keep praying. I often find myself in bed at night feeling bleak. I don't like how the day went, I don't like how we fought, I don't like what my kids witnessed. When I stop the guilt feelings and cry out in prayer for my husband, my kids, and myself - I swear to you that God helps me. There is no fairy dust, no miraculous apology right then, no visible change at all - but my heart finds peace and the dust seems to settle and hope sneaks back into my heart. It is such a relief.

2) Get professional help. Find a counselor. Read a self-help book together. Buy a CD series that attacks the issues you're dealing with. It's like when my kids were little and I was new to mothering and one of them would get sick. I was a frantic, anxious mess. I was convinced my child was going to die or be permanently damaged. And then I'd call the doctor. Somehow, having that third party involved - the pediatrician - was such a relief. Kevin and I are having weekly counseling sessions right now. It gives us hope to have someone else involved. We have employed a professional! -- this has to get better now, right? Well, it has potential. Next to God, our counselor is the best thing we've got going on right now.

3) Apologize. I suck at this, but I can still offer it as advice without being a hypocrite because I am practicing. And as much as I hate being wrong and admitting it, I have to say that it does a tremendous amount of good. Grow up and get humble and be willing to admit when you're wrong - even when you can't stand it! Sometimes my apologies cause me more tears than the problems we're having. They hurt my pride and my security. But I can see the good they do for Kevin and for our marriage. When I'm honest, I see the good they do for me, too, because they make me more mature and more humble.

4) Don't walk out. When I am angry, I want to do only two things: throw stuff and leave. Boy do I want to leave. I get why people storm off, but it makes things worse. If you need to cool down, go to another room, not another address. I have spent a fair amount of imaginative energy concocting what my escape apartment looks like. Sadly, it isn't very luxurious. The furniture is sparse and my kids are always coming over for visits and they're crying. Even my fantasy about getting away from my marriage problems pretty accurately depicts how rotten it would be.

5) Remember you're no party, either. Thomas A Kempis says it so well it has stuck with me since I read it two years ago in The Imitation of Christ: "Learn how to be patient in enduring the faults of others, remembering that you yourself have many which others have to put up with." This has helped me vastly in my marriage, and in all my other relationships as well. Yes, I have to put up with Kevin's various imperfections, but he puts up with mine!

Two post-scripts: One, if you're reading this and you're already divorced, my advice to you is to learn from past mistakes. Approach new relationships with a ridiculous amount of caution. Involve as many trusted friends in your relationship as possible. Don't get into a relationship with someone who doesn't share your faith. And don't have sex before you get married. I bet I could find some study out there proving that if you follow these guidelines, your marriage has at least a 174-percent better chance of survival.

Second post-script: If your spouse is not on board with improving your marriage - all of my advice still applies. You can still go to God on your own, get professional help with YOUR issues, apologize like crazy whenever you have the chance, stay home even when you feel like storming out and slamming the door behind you, and remember that you're not perfect.

Washing a Clean Car

At the gas station, I noticed a sleek-looking black SUV at the pump next to mine. It caught my eye because it was so shiny! so black! so cool!

My car was a disaster, having recently driven through one of those rare and terrible storms wherein greasy mud rains from the sky and dead bugs glom onto the windshield in groups of approximately four million. So when "Do You Want a Carwash Today?" popped up on the gas pump screen, I quickly pushed the "yes!" button. How convenient! Fill up the gas tank then drive through the handy car wash. All clean! All new! Perhaps my filthy deep-green dented and pock-marked van would come out of the carwash reincarnated as a trendy black SUV. Even if no miracle occurred, I was giddy that I would leave this place with a clean car - something I don't always have the time or money, -but especially the time- to procure.

Can you picture this? You've seen Charlie Brown shows so you know the Pigpen character. That's my van: Pigpen. Everywhere I drive, there is a little dust cloud hovering around my van. It is dirty far more often than it is clean. Sometimes it is so hard to see out of the windshield that I can't swear I haven't run over any pedestrians. And... no joke... the rabbit guts from the terrible "Rabbit Slaughter Incident of 2013" are still visible on the right rear brake light.

I drive the whole mess over to the carwash lane and I'm singing a hymn, "Come to the Water."
This is a spiritual experience, full of meaning. I'm bringing the filthy van to the waters of renewal. My van will emerge a different van, and I, the driver - a different driver. With a clean car, all things are possible. Maybe if I can achieve a clean car I can achieve success in all areas of life. My singing is louder now, and I turn the corner behind the gas station - eyes on the entrance to the carwash and there in front of me... is the sleek black SUV. My singing stops.

This is a sure sign of an out-of-whack society: a frazzled housewife in a monumentally soiled minivan waiting in the carwash line behind a woman with an immaculately clean car, trendy mini-dress, designer heels, and supermodel hair.

What was she doing there? What kind of joke was being played?

Come on, lady! You're raising the standard impossibly high. You're telling me I have to get my car washed even before it gets dirty!?!

This story would be much more satisfying if I had gotten out of my van and given "Perfection Lady" the what-for. If I had lectured her about spending her time more wisely than on washing a clean car. If I had obtained the name of her hairdresser. But that wasn't going to happen. I was wearing my pajamas, after all. I can't just hop out of the mud-caked driver's-side door and waltz up to a complete stranger to give her life advice. I have my dignity.

I waited patiently as she punched in her car wash code, climbed back into her vehicle, and proceeded into the car wash. While the soap and brushes skimmed across her perfect paint, a few more bugs committed suicide on my windshield and I watched them die. And in my mind, the music played:

And let all who toil,

let them come to the water.

And let all who are weary,

let them come to the Lord:

all who labor, without rest.

How can your soul find rest,

except for the Lord?

Redeeming the Coffee Card

This day started out okay, then it got hairy, then turned into a kind of a bummer, then it picked up and then it got REALLY really good when my hubby agreed to go to coffee with me at my favorite coffee shop which should be everyone's favorite coffee shop AND I realized on the way there that my punch card was full and I was due for a FREE coffee so it would be like a two-fer and this was the card that I found... FOUND on the ground near my church so someone else I don't even know but who has excellent taste in coffee shops has a part in my enjoying that FREE decaf mocha frap tonight. You heard me... I said decaf... and despite the lack of caffeine look at the run-on sentence and all the ALL CAPS and the ellipses!

Thank you, irresponsible stranger, for dropping your card! I tried to think of you with gratitude when I ordered my drink this evening. And can we all agree that I may not have it all together -- my house is dirty and my dog has an ear problem and my children aren't in advanced math and my weight needs some attention --- but gol darnit if my thumbnail isn't clean, trim, and smooth.