'Tis the season to renew better habits. Maybe you started at the new year, setting resolutions, and working toward a better year than last, but for myself, it is always Lent. I feel much less frustrated this lenten season than I have in years past, perhaps if only for the reason that I know so much more about changing habits.

You see, we tend to track our progress by marking a day as "win or lose."  Today I failed, but yesterday I succeeded. We try to quit yelling, quit complaining, remember that task right away.... and at the end of the day we failed again. Or was it really failure? Somewhere in my readings, someone pointed out that changing our habits goes through very slow stages. And never-mind that popular book title, it can take far more than thirty days.

The first stage is just recognizing what change needs to be made. That alone can be difficult. Perhaps someone pointed out a flaw in your life, and you don't believe it. Surely, there is nothing wrong with your diet, or the way you treat your kids, or the chatter you make about other's lives. Perhaps you know something needs to change, but you just don't care yet. Perhaps you know what is wrong, but you haven't figured out what to do yet. So congratulate yourself on that first step, which is just identifying *what* to do.

Remember the blind man in Mark?

“ Taking the blind man by the hand, He brought him out of the village; and after spitting on his eyes and laying His hands on him, He asked him, "Do you see anything?"  -Mark 8:23

I’ve heard or read this passage so many times. I’ve pondered the miracle of sight and what the man must have experienced and what it might have been like to witness it.  I’ve pondered the ways in which I’m blind and the ways God has helped me to see. Maybe it’s being a tired, touched-out mom who is sooo done with boogers wiped on shirts, but last time I came across these words, only one thing stuck out to me:

Spit.

Most of us who have been Catholic for any good length of time have been advised at one point or another to “offer it up”. That is, to join your sufferings with the the suffering Christ and let Him make it redemptive and transforming - a source of grace for yourself and the world.

And it’s true: knowing that no suffering is without value in this life gives a great deal of hope. Hope desperately needed when the pain feels pointless and awful.

But it’s not enough to tell someone to “offer it up.”

One of my children wants to shower her love on everyone she encounters. "Love 'em to death" seems a bit apt for how her passion can get carried away. The sweet tenderness of one sister loving another was slightly lessened by the ever-present fear that she might suffocate her little sister, in those newborn days. And we have many conversations about what feels loving and what is actually received that way. It is such a joy for her when she encounters a smaller child who actually likes endless hand-holding and snuggles.

Though it is truly said, "love, and do what you will." That phrase comes with an awareness that it is authentic love as the guiding force, one that sees rightly the way to love. As evil has no ideas of it's own except to twist what is good - so many ills are the twisting of healthy virtues.

My daughter's abundant love must be tempered by prudence as to what is truly loving in each situation. There are many times when giving a hug to her sister would be a cruel thing, or the gift of broken toys may not truly be the most thoughtful. Love should contain both the beautiful passion and the attentiveness to others desires. To love with only passion and no wisdom ceases to be love at all. Even if intentions are lovely.

And so on with the many virtues:
Truth should always be balanced by charity. Freedom should always be tempered by self control and wisdom. Piety should be balanced by obedience. Humility by courage and hope. Trust by wisdom. And so on. They all work in harmony.

I have seen many times the heartbreak when one virtue is so twisted that it loses sight of the other virtues and ceases to be it's true self. I am a mother, I cannot live the life of a cloistered saint. However much I treasure austerity, simplicity, and piety, those virtues will manifest themselves in different ways within my vocation, by virtue of obedience to my calling. It shouldn't look the same way. To try to push myself to do otherwise would be neglecting my spouse and my children.

We generally recognize these distortions, when they pushed to an extreme. Such as parents, so valuing happiness within their relationships to their children that they don't dare teach or challenge them. Or the doting friend who cannot take a no to the gifts she *knows* she should give. But each culture has it's blind spots and each of us have our own weaknesses.

The arguments spring up saying, "but this is good!" And indeed, often the object pursued is a great good. Yet if it goes so far as to trample other goods, especially ones which are more important, then the goodness is crushed. That is why boundaries exist. That is why they are needed. They protect the good from ceasing to be itself.

It is humbling to recognize how easily I slip into these pitfalls myself. Valuing industry and getting work done such that I lose sight of the fingers pulling on my skirt. Or wanting my child to learn an important lesson so much that I forget the lessons of life I desire more. Or in worrying about how to make my children be good that I forget that first they need to be loved. It does me no good to pray a rosary if I yell at my children to be quiet the whole time. That doesn't mean I should abandon these things, but build toward them, showing patience toward myself.

The devil, in his subtlety, wants us to believe we are most holy while we do what is most hurtful. But did not Christ say, in effect, "if your early rising and fasting causes you to sin, cut it out! Better to be well slept and full than to hurt those around you by your increased weakness." It is good for me to read about St. Jean Vianney who ate only potatoes and fasted continuously and slept little. It is also good for my humility to recognize that I cannot still be a gift to those around me if I deprive myself that way. Can I make more small sacrifices here and there? Yes. And if they increase my love for my God and my family, my self control, my desire for Heaven, etc. then they do a great deal of good. But if increasing my piety is only turning me into a pharisee, better to step back and look more at how I can simply be obedient to the present moment. Better to come to God in our weakness than than to fall prey to our pride that we are capable of more than we truly are. Humility involves embracing the level of holiness that He calls us to have, not what we think we should claim for ourselves.

(from the prayer of humility)
"Lord, grant that others may become holier than I, provided I become as holy as I should."

I want embrace so many good things. But we cannot be prepped for a marathon in one day. Just as my child learns to hug others in a way that they smile and are not knocked down, so I must also learn to love in such a way that it is true and authentic.

Admit it, when your child is so happy taking a shower in dirt while wearing his nicest clothes and can't believe that you'd ever be disgruntled about it, or when he offers his boogers to a friend at the playground, or when he screams with delight because his favorite pair of underwear comes out of the wash, you are reminded that children are crazy. The fork that was the best yesterday is now the yucky one. Everything that is special is now to be called "blue." So much screaming, both happy and sad, so many things that you wish you'd write in the baby book or save to laugh about later, so many arguments about which end is up, and so many tears over three drops of water. Children are amazing, enthusiastic, curious, wild creatures.

God saw fit to teach me a thing or two about childhood and so he blessed me with anxiety.

About the only time I worry about modesty for my children is when they are getting ready to bathe, and manage to escape to run about the house in bare-naked freedom. We have big windows, and it's a little much. I do think a great deal about modesty in regards to myself though. Far from being a standard you pass or fail in the clothing department, it is a virtue.
For me, modesty is about honor : honoring others and honoring myself. It is a desire to recognize the dignity of all. Now what is honor anymore?

That is "mess" not "Mass." Mess as in messes. As in puddles of tears and stains on clothing, and the flowers crushed with enthusiasm. I've often mused on how God makes some of the most amazing things rather messy. Eating for example. While there is much I do to limit the hazards, inevitably there is waste and dishes that follow the culinary satisfaction. Children are often the definition of messy, starting with their birth. Yes it is beautiful, joyful, a miracle of God - the most powerful thing most women ever experience - but I can't agree with those who claim it's not messy. Those raw days with the newborn too: the bleary eyes, frumpy clothes, and baby leaks don't lend a aesthetic beauty to the scene, but rather a human one. It is the deep beauty of love poured out for another. The cross was extremely messy, gruesome, and horrifying to look at. Many of us in our tidy American churches have rather clean looking crucifixes (for which I'm grateful) but the end result is rather sanitary looking. The crucifixion was not remotely sanitary, only those numb could bear to look upon it without being overcome with tears and shock by the horror. Yet in meditating upon it and consuming it's power we are given life.

The whining. The smears on so many things. The number of times you hear, "mommy, I want... " My biggest pitfall as a parent is the sheer repetitiveness of it all. It is as though after I've pulled out a snack for the hundredth time, or was patient with their tired antics for so many nights, or smiled sweetly and answered the thousandth "why" that I lose it. No more! I can't hold back the frustration and I let it out. After all, how much toll can one take? I'm human!

"You have crossed me, for the last time."

Even on days when you feel superhuman, and have an extra dollop of Holy-Spirit-infused patience, there still seems to be a point at which you can't tolerate the irritating sound of fidgeting children for another second. "JUST STOP!" suddenly flies out of your mouth like a cannonball launched at the children, who are shocked into a stunned silence. Oh. Wait. That's other peoples' children who look stunned when their mothers yell. I think mine just sigh and moan, “But I just need to do it!"

What do we really mean, anyway, when we say we've "lost our patience" ?

Sometimes when we feel convicted about something, it can be difficult to figure out what to do. I know I have to change, but how? And the guilt creeps in for everything you're doing wrong, and suddenly you're overwhelmed and you think "AHHHH! I'LL NEVER GET THIS RIGHT!!!"

Take a deep breath. Whooo. Ahhh... it's ok.

I really like those encouraging posts that tell me to pick one thing to change. Just one thing. And don't try to add anything else for another week, or a month, or maybe whenever you find your to-do list again. And pat yourself on the head for accomplishing anything at all. I relax my shoulders a bit. "Ok, I can do that."