Theresa Thomas: Everyday Catholic

Need money? Books?

Who doesn't, right?

Well, friend Teresa Larios, an Usborne Book independent supervisor (Usborne books are wonderful, educational books that we have been using for years in our home school.), shares an opportunity this Sept. for anyone wanting to be an Usborne consultant--selling books at your pace in your world, or on your website (free for 6 months). Just think. You get the word out and send people to your website and the orders just pile up. The starter kit includes free books for your family. If you think you  might like to try this (or get more information), visit her here:

http://www.usbornehomeschoolbooks.com/ 

This is a great way to earn income and slashed discounts on books your own family needs and loves.

Trust

When you trust God, you will find He sometimes gives you very GOOD things. This may sound obvious, but it’s not something we always easily believe. Think about it. When someone says, “We’ll leave it (a situation) in God’s hands”, what do you usually think? The phrase is a resignation to God’s will, no doubt, but usually indicates expecting the worst. “Uncle Mort is so ill. There’s nothing we can do. We’ll leave it in God’s hands.” Or “The hurricane is scheduled to hit the coast. We have no recourse. We’ll leave it in God’s hands.” It’s almost as if we’re saying that if we trust God he’ll just bungle it. We must control things ourselves.

            Well, guess what? Sometimes leaving a situation in God’s hands produces a result so great and amazing and indescribably wonderful that you couldn’t possibly have come up with it yourself. In my case, “putting things in God’s hands” gave me precious time with my husband that would never have happened had I tried to control things myself. Let me explain.

            After my recovery from cancer my husband David wanted me to go with him to California. I almost said no because I was terrified to fly. I prayed about it, and felt God was asking me to go with him. It was the least I could do after all the support David had given me. I took a leap of faith and said ok, telling myself that God would get us there and back. Here’s a little peek at what happened to me when I put things in God’s capable hands.

            First, we survived the flight. That was amazing enough. I hadn’t really thought about what we would actually do in California once we got there. I didn’t expect living through the landing. But we did. Once that was settled, I decided a good night’s rest was in order. I woke to discover I had “only” slept in until 7:00 a.m. Then I realized that 7:00 a.m.California time was really 10:00 a.m. Indiana

time.

Alleluia! No wonder I felt so refreshed.

That morning David had to drive to Los Angeles for business. I had planned on going with him. “Don’t come with me,” he said, gently, “It will be so boring to wait for me in the city.” “Well, what do I do?” I asked. “Theresa,” he said slowly as though explaining a difficult concept to a simple-minded child, “we are at a spa and resort.” He emphasized the words ‘spa’ and ‘resort’. “Do what people at a spa and resort do.” “What do they do?” I, busy mother of nine, asked and wondered. My only conception of a spa thus far was escaping to the bathroom, turning on the bathroom tub water faucet strongly enough to drown out the commotion outside, and hope to get to sit, in the steam, with a magazine for maybe 10 minutes. My husband handed me a *menu* of options printed on elegant paper and smiled.

            As I read the menu my eyes widened. “Facial, body wrap, detoxifying mud bath, fitness equipment, sauna, pool, manicure, essential oils, aromatherapy, fresh fruit, flavored water…” I was delirious with the thought of the possibilities. “These are expensive,” I began, but David immediately cut me off. “Theresa, fill up your day,” he said, “We can splurge this once.” Then he kissed my forehead and left.   At first I just sat there, frozen on the bed. Then I burst into laughter, and,turning my attention back to the menu, I carefully chose a detoxifying mud bath which promised to “rid the body of chemical toxins”. Perfect after the months of chemo! And so began a luxurious day at the spa. I must tell you this. Old habits die hard. Later on, when I approached the pristine private pool, clear and blue, surrounded by a fountain and perfectly manicured flowerbeds and shrubs, I instinctively selected a place near the shallow end, where I could keep a good eye on the kids. But wait! I was alone. I could choose any place I desired. So I turned my lounge chair around to face the bright sun and for the first time in at least a year, inhaled deeply and calmly. The kids were safe and well cared for. I was relaxed. David was coming soon to get me. I was in remission. Life was good.

             By the time David returned to take me to dinner I was as loose as taffy. The next day we explored the beautiful town of Rancho Mirage and enjoyed the pool. We went shopping. We worked out in the fitness center together. We played golf and took walks.  Like cool water in the desert to a dehydrated man was this trip for us. Praise God for “leaving it in His hands”! I would have missed this precious time with my husband if I hadn’t overcome my fear of flying and trusted God. I simply ask you, what are your fears preventing?

palm tree/mountain photo courtesy of www.travelblog.org

My sister and godchild, Mary, a consecrated layperson who works as a missionary, loves to paint in her spare time. This is a painting she has given me and which I want to share with you today. I see so much in this painting that gives me hope. I hope you will feel the same way.

Through the suffering of the Cross, depicted here with a heart, signifying Jesus' love, we are brought countless blessings of every kind, shown here as flower petals at the foot of the cross. When we embrace our own crosses, we can also be instruments of God's blessing, and truly become "what we are". 

"Fiat", literally, "let it be done" is the phrase our Blessed Mother used to show complete resignation to God's will. May we follow her example and fully accept God's will in our lives.

St. Augustine of Hippo

After a folly-filled youth, St. Augustine became a Christian at age 33. He became a priest at 36, a bishop at 41. Exemplifying hope for those whose early years were sin-filled, he is also a great example of what a mother's prayers can do. St. Monica, his famous mother,  tirelessly prayed for his conversion. Let us remember there is always hope for wayward children.

“Too late have I loved you, O Beauty of ancient days, yet ever new! Too late I loved you! And behold, you were within, and I abroad, and there I searched for you; I was deformed, plunging amid those fair forms, which you had made. You were with me, but I was not with you. Things held me far from you—things which, if they were not in you, were not at all. You called, and shouted, and burst my deafness. You flashed and shone, and scattered my blindness. You breathed odors and I drew in breath—and I pant for you. I tasted, and I hunger and thirst. You touched me, and I burned for your peace” (St. Augustine, Confessions). 

Courage

            After being diagnosed with a life-threatening illness, my outlook on life changed immensely. I’d like to share a few of these things in my next couple entries here. I hope that in some small way, these observations may make a difference in somebody’s life. I hope you will never have to experience what I did (I realize some of you already have and I’d love to hear from you about that. You can email me if you want to share (click my *About* page for my email addy), but I also want you to know that if you do, some good things can actually come out of some pretty bad stuff. 
            Here’s what happened to me, in a nutshell: I was diagnosed, at age 41, with Hodgkin's lymphoma stage IIa (‘II’ meaning both sides of my body, ‘a’ meaning I had no symptoms) in April of last year ('05), just two weeks after the birth of our ninth baby. My brother was killed in a car accident the same week, and I was, by a series of “God incidences” led to my brother-in-law, a surgeon, who first suspected my cancer. To say my diagnosis was a shock is a complete understatement. Last year was the most challenging year of my life. I wrote my first column for Today’s Catholic on this topic, and. I've been writing steadily ever since. This has snowballed into other projects, and my first lesson about cancer was this: sometimes dealing with a crisis can lead to a great opportunity. Be open!
            Anyway, after undergoing 12 treatments (six months) of chemotherapy, including the intense experience of bone marrow biopsies (which I found out you CAN feel even after being anesthetized. Don’t believe anyone if they tell you otherwise.), fully losing my hair, gaining 30 pounds, learning that nine pregnancy nauseas were nothing compared to chemo nausea, and that whoever said that “mild bone pain” accompanied Neulasta, the white-blood-cell-producing medication given after each chemo treatment, had obviously never been injected with it himself or he would know that its severity can keep you up all night crying in pain, I was declared free of cancer and in remission in October of last year. (Praise God!) There are some surprising discoveries I made after this roller coaster ride. I’ll share the first in today’s entry:

            We have more courage than we think we do. God provides just enough.

             I have never considered myself to be brave in the past, and I would hardly consider myself to be fearless now, but   dealing with cancer definitely empowered me to be more courageous. Isn’t that weird? Something that strikes us down physically can actually chisel our spiritual and mental strength.  Once I worked through the mental gymnastics of the experience I came to this simple and helpful conclusion: If I can lick a life-threatening disease and walk away pretty much unscathed, I can certainly handle the minor irritations of life such as a rude comment from a relative or a curriculum challenge in our home school environment. With God’s help, I can actually face any obstacle that life decides to plant in my path. I can even face my fears.

             Last February I took, for the first time since our honeymoon 20 years ago, a trip alone on a plane with my husband David, across the country, no less. We spent a week in sunny southern California, entrusting the kids to my very experienced mother, who had raised 13 kids after all. I had previously been terrified of doing so, partly because of leaving our kids, partly because of the mode of transportation. IT WAS THE BEST TRIP OF MY LIFE! (Yes, I'm shouting, and more about that in the next entry.) I don't think I ever would have stepped on a plane had I not had the experience of cancer. By the way, having cancer did not eliminate my bent towards worrying, but having faced one of my ultimate fears--death--gave me courage to face other things fearful, in this case, an airplane ride. To my great surprise our plane did not crash, and my children seemed to get along just fine without me.  In fact, it appears my children hardly missed me. When I called they dutifully spoke to me but were anxious to get back to Grandma who was serving dessert and reading to them about St. Padre Pio’s stigmata.

            It is said that courage is not being unafraid, but rather acting positively in spite of fear. I think that’s about right. The moral of this story and my first discovery was simple: Take trips. Live life. Overcome fears by acting out in courage even if you don’t feel brave. God will help but you have to trust Him. He doesn’t force you to do anything. He waits for you to come to Him. Oh, and one more thing: if your doctor says he has medication that will help during a flight--go ahead and take it. God’s blessings often come in the form of others.

"When we serve the poor and the sick we serve Jesus. We must not fail to help our neighbors because in them we serve Jesus."

St. Rose of Lima

Tenth of 13 children, patroness of the Americas, and the first canonized saint of the new world.  Feast: August 23

Successful Launch--

     It is finished. Our oldest son has been successfully delivered to college. His clothes have been transferred to his new closet (which he loves because it allows him much more space than the smaller closet at home that he shares with two brothers.) His personal towel is hanging near his personal sink, which is also a new experience for him. He is used to sharing a bathroom with eight brothers and sisters, all younger. Now his vying for the water is only against one same-aged roommate. He appreciates the space, and the lack of the need to jump for the running water first.

            Two days after his dad and I returned home from dropping him off I called him to make sure he had picked up his computer at the campus-wide distribution. Did he find the correct one? Did he remember to get his speakers and printer? What about the ink cartridges? Did he find them ok? I remembered his first day of football practice in the 9^th grade when he forgot of-all-things- his shoes. But this wasn’t ninth grade anymore. Yes, he had picked up all the items, he assured me. In fact, he was setting up the printer as we spoke. I could hear the beeps and clicks of the new printer in the background, as it protested its assembly.

            The first few days we were home without him I found myself crying at the slightest thing. When I glanced outside my kitchen window and saw the swingset, I suddenly remembered the day we put that contraption in the back yard. The morning following our swingset set up, my son (then just six) and his brother were up at 6 a.m. , ready to go. As they launched on their swings and felt the new sense of freedom, their feet pumped higher and higher. Laughter burst from them, and smiles of exhilaration covered their faces at this new experience. We now had another new experience, equally exhilarating. Equally new. When I talked to my son last week after *the launch*, his voice was filled with excitement, not unlike the day we brought home the swingset. He’d met new friends. The faculty and deans at the acquaintance lunch were so nice! The food was good. His schedule was good too. He was going to be fine. But would we?

            There was a time when I wasn’t sure--the long drive home, for one. But now that we’re back in our routine, and he is back in his, and I know he is capable and happy, I am surprised. I always knew I would have a difficult time *letting go* when it came time for college. What I didn’t expect was feeling so happy for him, for the new opportunities and launching of this next phase in his life. When I pass his room now I smile. I know he will be back. I'm not losing him at all. It's just the next phase of our lives as parent and child. And it is good.

New Parent Handbook

This evening I sit in my 18 and a half year old squeaky rocker, which is falling apart and wobbly. The springs are sticking out of the side, but it is comfortable, and I realize that I have sat so many times in this rocker nursing tiny, hungry babies and singing lullabies to sick toddlers, reading to children, checking math problems, and recovering in this place of respite when I was fighting a battle with cancer.  In my hands today I hold a "New Parent Handbook/Survival Guide"....for college... as my oldest prepares to leave in just a few days. I remember very well the other "New Parent Handbook/Survival Guide" I clutched when he was an infant, in this very rocker, looking for reassurance that we would both survive this new experience. I feel like this is new parenthood all over again. Tears. Hope. Trying hard. Will I do this right? Is God pleased? Are we both going to be okay?

Years have passed and situations have changed. Dear Lord, help me cope with this change as my oldest prepares to test his wings and pursue his educational and personal goals. Give us both (and his dad too) strength, courage, and your guidance.  Help me to be happy for him and let him know I love him.

Why Should I Care About Hollywood? I'm Just an Ordinary Mom

It was a little ironic when I was asked to cover a lecture of and interview Barbara Nicolosi, speaker, blogger, adjunct professor of screenwriting at Azusa Pacific University in Azusa, CA and executive director of ACT ONE, a non-profit organization that according to its website "trains people of faith for careers in mainstream film and television." Ironic because I am known in our house as *One Who Falls Asleep During Movies* (that would be my indian name if I had one) If I do stay awake, I usually cannot watch a DVD without folding a pile of laundry, getting distracted and wandering off to put the laundry away, change the machines, or check my email.

My teens will tell you that "mom hates movies". Well, that's not entirely true. I only hate movies that are banal or dull, or vulgar or boring, or immoral, or are too *action packed* ( I have enough action in my own day, thank you.) or too sad. In short, I'm not fond of most movies, but some are okay.

Therefore, when my editor at Today's Catholic granted me the privilege and opportunity to interview Ms. Nicolosi, my kids laughed. "YOU?! Yeah right!" exclaimed one, practically rolling on the floor. It was like inviting a dieter to the 4-H fair Bake-Off. Simply not interested. Right? Wrong. I have to be interested. You should too.

Ms. Nicolosi's lecture was fascinating, and I send you the link to my article covering her talk below, not because it was a particularly good article, but because Ms. Nicolosi had some particularly profound things to say.

Why should a mom care about Hollywood? It's simple.

Because her kids do.

Because it has a profound effect on society.

Because it is not going away any time soon.

If you do not let your children watch movies, I understand. We didn't either in the early years. Now that we have 3 young men and one young lady in the house (13, 15, 17 and 18) my husband and I are trying to help them discern good from bad because soon they will be out from under our wings (one will do that just this week). They will be exposed to movies at a friend's house, at college, on their own. We allow some carefully screened, recommended-by-people-we-trust (or already have viewed) PG-13 movies in the house. Then we watch together. Well, mostly David watches with them. I try.

Yes, I do gasp (my kids say shriek) and rush to turn the station as though there were a fire in the family room if an offensive scene is shown. Heck, I even pitched (yes, literally threw away) The Titanic because of one sensual scene. Some may say the scene was *tastefully done* or *not that bad*, but I'm raising nine souls for Christ and nobody's voluptuous breasts are going to get in the way of doing this right. If I have to spend time in purgatory it's not going to be over not racing to change the channel on an offensive scene fast enough or keeping something impure (even just one little scene) in the house.

But I digress.

Check out Ms. Nicolosi's blog: "http://churchofthemasses.blogspot.com/">http://churchofthemasses.blogspot.com/</a> She posts reviews, from time to time, of new releases. Let's not throw out the proverbial baby with the bathwater and say all film is bad just because there are some really bad doozies out there. Good movies exist, and knowledgeable and faithful Catholics like Barbara can help us glean.

Perhaps our sons or daughters will be the artists who change the industry--creating works of art (the combination of music, film, etc.) that are significant and beautiful, true and good. Or perhaps our children will just view the films as ordinary people. Maybe they won't watch them at all. Regardless, the medium of film will influence them in some way. Even if they never watch, it will affect their culture. Like it or not, that is a 21st century reality.

So no, I don't suddenly care a whole lot about movies. But I do care a whole lot about my kids, and they are going to be exposed to these for a long long time. The least I can do is stay awake, pay attention and help them choose and discern.

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Article can be found on page 8 here: http://www.diocesefwsb.org/TODAY/archive/19%20May7,2006.pdf

Interview with Barbara is on p. 22 here: http://www.diocesefwsb.org/TODAY/archive/20%20May14,2006.pdf

And please do visit Barbara's blog.

Oh, and just for the record, kids, I DO have a few movie favorites:

It's a Wonderful Life, Life is Beautiful, Cinderella and Cinderella 2 and both Toy Story movies. I stayed awake during Sixth Sense and October Sky, although I had a few minor problems with both. And my all-time favorite movie, which I could watch over and over again every week--The Sound of Music. So there! Bring on the popcorn.

Living the Contemplative Life in the Vocation of Motherhood

Some of you know that my sister Mary is a consecrated lay person who has served as a missionary in such places as Siberia, Russia (with members of the religious community Society of Our Lady of the Most Holy Trinity--SOLT ) and Nigeria. She also lived, for a while, in a hermitage in Spain, under the tutelage of her spiritual director. She has given frequent retreats for women and young adults. Mary is home visiting for a spell, and many people have been asking her  about the contemplative life and how it can be lived in the worldly vocation of motherhood. She is giving a retreat for us locally, but passes along this link for anyone who is interested in this topic: http://www.stmhouston.org/conchita/diary.htm

Mary writes: Conchita is a very deep, simple, spiritual woman from Mexico who died in 1937. Her cause for canonization has been opened and she now is Venerable. I first encountered her writing when I was living as a hermit in Texas my first year out of college. Her writing deeply touched me, and yet I had since forgotten about her until recently when "L" (our sister) was talking with me about finding a deeply contemplative spirituality for mothers. Anyway, I was very happy to find that her writing is now available in full on the internet. And so any of you looking for a really deep push in your spiritual life might find something she has written helpful. She was a simple woman -engaged at 13 -and so she should not be too difficult to grasp.

I hope at least one of you finds this helpful.