I left off having found a church in Cleveland that felt familiar and homelike. I met a lot of Case Western students at the church or recent alums still in the area that first Sunday that I visited. Though I know it wasn't, it almost felt too easy to be welcomed into a group of thinking individuals that also valued God. After all, I was no longer in the Bible belt but was back in yankee territory where people tend to be a bit less open to strangers. Nonetheless, I was welcomed and I was so very thankful.
Amongst the group of new acquaintances was a boy, who actually happened to be the drummer in the praise band at the church. (Musicians always cause problems, is what I'm saying. :)) Maybe because I wasn't really looking, or maybe he was just that different, but somehow I let my guard down and we started dating a little over a month of knowing each other. He apparently liked me from the beginning, and I, well, I was won over by his heart in playing tennis together. Because I was an athlete, but I was an athlete who loved people who maybe weren't born with all this natural talent but tried their absolute hardest in every situation. He was this guy, and he still is, but also he absolutely respected me in every sort of way. A gentleman that didn't live in the south but in the north. Anyway, I am probably digressing here, but he was and is an important figure in this conversion story of mine.
At this church I got involved almost right away. I was put into a small group, which I would define as a bible study group that was also supposed to keep you accountable on your faith walk. This idea can work to an extent, except that for me, I usually have my guard up in situations like this, and let the extroverts run the show and just say what is minimally required of me. It isn't until I talk to someone one on one that I really open up. Maybe this is why confession works for me now in a positive way besides the graces of it and everything. Nonetheless, I kept going to the small group and I did learn from the others. I think at this point I got a glimpse that Assemblies of God was a bit charismatic (not a bad thing, just not me) but at this point there was no doctrine presented to me and I wasn't held accountable to following a set of rules or even joining the church I believe.
I got involved even further in the church, I signed up to help teach their version of Sunday school, which I don't think was on Sunday but on a weekday night. It wasn't until I did this that I started to see a little more of the charismatic flavor of this denomination, something I was not familiar with in my mainline Protestant upbringing. It made me a bit uncomfortable, not because it was wrong, but it challenged me to examine what I thought about about this type of theology, and really what this church I was going to was really about, I just didn't know.
All the while, I'm dating this guy, this guy that seemed to actually like me and my quirks. About seven months into our relationship, we had a talk about discerning marriage, and both of us were a little restless about the theology of our current church home. Some of the material for the men's group wasn't sitting well with him and as I said my teaching material wasn't sitting well with me. We decided to examine other churches and see if any of these seemed to fit us more. And on an important note, K's grandfather died in January of 2006. This gave him a glimpse of his old Catholic life as he attended the funeral mass and burial and it stuck with him, though he didn't say much about it at the time. The man takes a while to process things and it just wasn't factoring in at the time.
We tried all of one other church, a Presbyterian Church of America variety, which, get this, met in the basement the annex of a Catholic church. Where I grew up, I was mostly of the Presbyterian Church-USA variety but I was struggling already with women pastors because I felt like while women have amazing gifts, it always felt off to have them being in that particular role. I didn't have any other reason to why this was important, just that it didn't feel right. And yes, I know I am sounding 100% anti-feminist but truly I am not. I was simply observing what was. So a PCA church was somewhat familiar, but didn't have women as pastors. It wouldn't be for a while that I would actually be able to understand this as more than just a feeling. It was a little bit odd attending there, because it was so small and we didn't know anyone, but it was more liturgically based than what were currently attending something we both apparently were being drawn to more so. K commented that they said the Nicene Creed there, and that he remembered that from being a Catholic. I thought that it was weird because in my Presbyterian upbringing we always said the Apostle's Creed, but it didn't go any further than that at the time. We didn't go back there again.
One day in perhaps March of 2006, K mentioned that he wanted to understand what Martin Luther really did in the reformation? It started a hunt for a book to explain this, not because I was thinking that much about this, but maybe I could learn something and also be a good girlfriend by finding an awesome book for him too. I think in K's mind his Catholic roots were plaguing him at this point and he wanted to read something that would dismiss Catholicism, obviously it didn't work.
Read Part 4 Here
Part 2 can be found here.
Part 1 can be found here.
Sunday, January 22, 2017
Saturday, January 21, 2017
How I Became Catholic Part 2 of ?
Between my junior and senior year I interned at NASA in Cleveland. I was a very determined girl to find a church to go to during the summer because I greatly enjoyed my college church and wanted to continue that source of love and understanding, but I struggled greatly in this endeavor. It was a very different place than the South when it came to religion and I wasn't under my parents' wing at this point. So I hopped around for a while and near the last month of my 3 month internship finally found something that would work. I wasn't in love with it though and since it was mega church set up I honestly felt like a number more than a person in it, but it would do for a month in my mind.
I went back to school in my senior year taking more of those core classes, and two of classes included study of Old and New Testament. The OT class opened my eyes to the connection between our Jewish roots and our newer Christianity. It renewed in me a respect for the liturgy and ritual aspect of worship. The NT class, while taught like a Bible quiz class, had some influence from the professor that got me thinking. In it he stated that it was important to him that his church were he was a pastor celebrate communion every Sunday. This was the first time I had ever come in contact with a church that would do that. Every other church I had been part of, communion was at the most done monthly if not less or only as the spirit led. I listened to a lot of his sermons, or at least the required ones for class and it prompted a lot of questions. I didn't act on anything at this point, but I think this was a key factor to the beginnings of my conversion, if this intelligent man that I respected thought so highly of communion, why was that? In the end, I think that it helped me to have more respect for the worship the baptists took part in, at least the kind that my professor was.
After I graduated from undergrad, I ended up deciding to go back to Cleveland for grad school in chemistry. I had been part of a joint project with Case Western and NASA in my internship and if you know anything about Case's campus, its filled with some really fun architecture and so I applied got a really good deal to go and decided this was my school. I thought that I would start getting acclimated to grad school in June by working in one of the labs there for the summer, so I did. I chose a random roommate for the year from the school classifieds and well, that was very interesting in itself, the only relevant part to my conversion was that because she was already established and living in the apartment, there was no need to set up everything as a new account. I had internet. I had basic utilities. I had the ability to protestant church shop, because knowing the unsatisfied feeling I had the summer ago, I was determined to find a home.
On the first weekend I was there, I looked up churches, first a Baptist one, because remember I had a really good professor experience and actually came away with a large respect for the establishment as a whole through my college experience. However, it was a dud. I went home after the service, no one really welcomed me and I just felt empty. That wasn't the feeling, I wanted to take away my first Sunday back in Cleveland. So internet searching I did, and I stumbled upon an Assemblies of God church that had a great website, it was a little further away, but it met at a high school and this was familiar to me so I went. And it was a good thing I did. I felt like this was going to work, and work well. It was like going back to my college church days and I was so thankful. Also, little did I know that amongst the welcoming people I met that day, I also met a lapsed Catholic amongst the church goers. A lapsed Catholic who ended up my husband a few years later. But we will stop there for today.
Read Part 3 Here.
Read part 1 Here.
I went back to school in my senior year taking more of those core classes, and two of classes included study of Old and New Testament. The OT class opened my eyes to the connection between our Jewish roots and our newer Christianity. It renewed in me a respect for the liturgy and ritual aspect of worship. The NT class, while taught like a Bible quiz class, had some influence from the professor that got me thinking. In it he stated that it was important to him that his church were he was a pastor celebrate communion every Sunday. This was the first time I had ever come in contact with a church that would do that. Every other church I had been part of, communion was at the most done monthly if not less or only as the spirit led. I listened to a lot of his sermons, or at least the required ones for class and it prompted a lot of questions. I didn't act on anything at this point, but I think this was a key factor to the beginnings of my conversion, if this intelligent man that I respected thought so highly of communion, why was that? In the end, I think that it helped me to have more respect for the worship the baptists took part in, at least the kind that my professor was.
After I graduated from undergrad, I ended up deciding to go back to Cleveland for grad school in chemistry. I had been part of a joint project with Case Western and NASA in my internship and if you know anything about Case's campus, its filled with some really fun architecture and so I applied got a really good deal to go and decided this was my school. I thought that I would start getting acclimated to grad school in June by working in one of the labs there for the summer, so I did. I chose a random roommate for the year from the school classifieds and well, that was very interesting in itself, the only relevant part to my conversion was that because she was already established and living in the apartment, there was no need to set up everything as a new account. I had internet. I had basic utilities. I had the ability to protestant church shop, because knowing the unsatisfied feeling I had the summer ago, I was determined to find a home.
On the first weekend I was there, I looked up churches, first a Baptist one, because remember I had a really good professor experience and actually came away with a large respect for the establishment as a whole through my college experience. However, it was a dud. I went home after the service, no one really welcomed me and I just felt empty. That wasn't the feeling, I wanted to take away my first Sunday back in Cleveland. So internet searching I did, and I stumbled upon an Assemblies of God church that had a great website, it was a little further away, but it met at a high school and this was familiar to me so I went. And it was a good thing I did. I felt like this was going to work, and work well. It was like going back to my college church days and I was so thankful. Also, little did I know that amongst the welcoming people I met that day, I also met a lapsed Catholic amongst the church goers. A lapsed Catholic who ended up my husband a few years later. But we will stop there for today.
Read Part 3 Here.
Read part 1 Here.
Friday, January 20, 2017
How I Became Catholic Part 1 of ?
I wrote a story long ago in 2006-2007 of how I arrived at Rome. It's since been lost so I thought I take another stab at it here, as I'm 10 years in, and maybe in those 10 years I have gained a bit of insight. I at least hope I have.
I grew up protestant, my mom and dad had me baptized in a Methodist church when I was a baby and we moved to PA and we tried the Methodist church again, but the kids were horrid to my sensitive older sibling, and so we became Presbyterian. It was close to Methodist and it had kind people in it, kind people are always a good thing. So most of my memorable childhood was spent being Presbyterian. But my parents never seemed to care if we did things with other protestant churches, and oddly in the small town of 5,000ish people that I grew up in there were at least 20 different protestant church varieties to choose from not to mention the even smaller surrounding towns with their 3 or 4 protestant churches each. So many varieties, and honestly, as a kid I didn't think anything of this division except that these made for lots of variety of vacation bible schools and camps.
I had a good friend who was a member of the Church of God congregation who invited me to church summer camp at least twice, and for the most part I enjoyed the rock walls and the zip lines and the pony rides but then there was always an evening of alter calls. Alter calls where something in which you were supposed to commit yourself to Christ in that moment. It always felt so strange to me, that this definitive moment was supposed to be the point at which I was a Christian and everything would magically change. Maybe I was a child skeptic and I just didn't know it. But so many alter calls later I was jaded by this action and thought it felt like it was missing something. To me it didn't mean that I was not a Christian, but I just didn't get this type of theology.
Having a naturally inquisitive, deep diving personality I did a lot of spiritual reading unprompted. On top of this I actually wanted to go further into my faith and so I asked to go to yet again more camps, of the Christian Leadership variety because the alter call ones weren't doing it for me anymore and so I convinced my parents to send me to my aunt's camp at least twice who had such things. I even convinced my mom to take my brother and I to Mexico for a mission trip since I was too young to go on my own according to the folks making the rules. (I was apparently very persuasive as a young one.) It was probably a good thing that my mom went on it because the girl who bunked next to me, who was a young college student, was bitten in the middle of the night by a deadly spider (local doctor knew the antidote but it totally made this girl delirious) and I probably wouldn't have been able to communicate well if this happened to me with my parents many thousands of miles away.
So I was seeking and wanting more and just trying to figure out what this whole Christianity thing was at its core. Along the way there were some bumps, I was sexually molested as a pre-teen and it sent me into an anti-boy/men tirade of years where I felt pretty worthless in the eyes of God. It oddly later led me to block out emotion that came with anything sexual and made for some pretty risky situations. Granted I had principles guided only by fear but I figured I could do anything but and yet I still felt horrible the next day post these situations. By the time I was a college student I had convinced everyone that I was never getting married and hated men, yet honestly I was just a jumbled mess inside. I had a habit of declaring my love of someone who just wasn't even a possibility because then I didn't have to actually have to act on anything. Secretly, I wanted to be loved but just didn't think I was worthy of it.
I ended up at a Southern Baptist college, mainly because I ended up with a sports scholarship/academic scholarship and it was a place that felt safe and yet was far from home so I could make a new start. My freshman year I tried going to churches in the area but the Presbyterian churches around there at the time were terrible and felt like everything was dying. I was one of the few non-baptists around a campus filled with PKs and MKs and kids brought in to be missioned to. Most baptists pretty much thought I was Catholic, especially when it came to mentioning things like Lent.
A fellow cross country runner, introduced me to a non-denominational church with a South African pastor. Honestly, probably part of the draw to this church for me was the accent, but also the church was alive and growing in contrast to the dying southern Presbyterians. I stayed at this church from at least sophomore year until graduation. I went on a mission trip with them to Honduras to help build a school and it was just very great in that helping others sense. They were good people once again and I liked being in their presence.
I had a lot of questions at this point, none which I felt like were being answered. And of course there was that weighty question of my worth being defiled and all. I was a little strange in my college course work and took all my hefty major stuff early and then left the core freshman classes for my junior and senior years. I first took an Arts in Western Civilization class. It was the best, because I loved art and I loved relating art to God. On top of that there was an architecture project and well, I am a complete sucker for old churches and their beauty. The professor, I don't think he knew the impact of his words, went on and on about the cathedral in St. Louis, MO. He stated, "If you can't worship there, I don't think you can worship anywhere." College me was like 'Okay, you know that's a Catholic church you are talking about, right? You're Baptist." Hmm. But architecture lover me, well she made a special trip during winter break convincing a friend to accompany her there since it was near her home. MO is very far away from PA, but, you know, architecture! So I went and it was beautiful, it was pre me having any decent camera, so I believe I took pictures with a disposable camera but none the less it stuck with me that this was somewhere worthy to worship. After all the non-denom I attended met in a school assembly room a very big contrast indeed.
My brother was dating a Catholic girl at the time, and my upbringing led me to believe that Catholics were wild. I totally dismissed him in his inquiries about Catholicism thinking if he ended up marrying this girl that she would just become what he was because we were the actual church going people. Little did I know what God had in store for me. Oh life is funny sometimes, and I think I will end there today.
Read Part 2 Here
I grew up protestant, my mom and dad had me baptized in a Methodist church when I was a baby and we moved to PA and we tried the Methodist church again, but the kids were horrid to my sensitive older sibling, and so we became Presbyterian. It was close to Methodist and it had kind people in it, kind people are always a good thing. So most of my memorable childhood was spent being Presbyterian. But my parents never seemed to care if we did things with other protestant churches, and oddly in the small town of 5,000ish people that I grew up in there were at least 20 different protestant church varieties to choose from not to mention the even smaller surrounding towns with their 3 or 4 protestant churches each. So many varieties, and honestly, as a kid I didn't think anything of this division except that these made for lots of variety of vacation bible schools and camps.
I had a good friend who was a member of the Church of God congregation who invited me to church summer camp at least twice, and for the most part I enjoyed the rock walls and the zip lines and the pony rides but then there was always an evening of alter calls. Alter calls where something in which you were supposed to commit yourself to Christ in that moment. It always felt so strange to me, that this definitive moment was supposed to be the point at which I was a Christian and everything would magically change. Maybe I was a child skeptic and I just didn't know it. But so many alter calls later I was jaded by this action and thought it felt like it was missing something. To me it didn't mean that I was not a Christian, but I just didn't get this type of theology.
Having a naturally inquisitive, deep diving personality I did a lot of spiritual reading unprompted. On top of this I actually wanted to go further into my faith and so I asked to go to yet again more camps, of the Christian Leadership variety because the alter call ones weren't doing it for me anymore and so I convinced my parents to send me to my aunt's camp at least twice who had such things. I even convinced my mom to take my brother and I to Mexico for a mission trip since I was too young to go on my own according to the folks making the rules. (I was apparently very persuasive as a young one.) It was probably a good thing that my mom went on it because the girl who bunked next to me, who was a young college student, was bitten in the middle of the night by a deadly spider (local doctor knew the antidote but it totally made this girl delirious) and I probably wouldn't have been able to communicate well if this happened to me with my parents many thousands of miles away.
So I was seeking and wanting more and just trying to figure out what this whole Christianity thing was at its core. Along the way there were some bumps, I was sexually molested as a pre-teen and it sent me into an anti-boy/men tirade of years where I felt pretty worthless in the eyes of God. It oddly later led me to block out emotion that came with anything sexual and made for some pretty risky situations. Granted I had principles guided only by fear but I figured I could do anything but and yet I still felt horrible the next day post these situations. By the time I was a college student I had convinced everyone that I was never getting married and hated men, yet honestly I was just a jumbled mess inside. I had a habit of declaring my love of someone who just wasn't even a possibility because then I didn't have to actually have to act on anything. Secretly, I wanted to be loved but just didn't think I was worthy of it.
I ended up at a Southern Baptist college, mainly because I ended up with a sports scholarship/academic scholarship and it was a place that felt safe and yet was far from home so I could make a new start. My freshman year I tried going to churches in the area but the Presbyterian churches around there at the time were terrible and felt like everything was dying. I was one of the few non-baptists around a campus filled with PKs and MKs and kids brought in to be missioned to. Most baptists pretty much thought I was Catholic, especially when it came to mentioning things like Lent.
A fellow cross country runner, introduced me to a non-denominational church with a South African pastor. Honestly, probably part of the draw to this church for me was the accent, but also the church was alive and growing in contrast to the dying southern Presbyterians. I stayed at this church from at least sophomore year until graduation. I went on a mission trip with them to Honduras to help build a school and it was just very great in that helping others sense. They were good people once again and I liked being in their presence.
I had a lot of questions at this point, none which I felt like were being answered. And of course there was that weighty question of my worth being defiled and all. I was a little strange in my college course work and took all my hefty major stuff early and then left the core freshman classes for my junior and senior years. I first took an Arts in Western Civilization class. It was the best, because I loved art and I loved relating art to God. On top of that there was an architecture project and well, I am a complete sucker for old churches and their beauty. The professor, I don't think he knew the impact of his words, went on and on about the cathedral in St. Louis, MO. He stated, "If you can't worship there, I don't think you can worship anywhere." College me was like 'Okay, you know that's a Catholic church you are talking about, right? You're Baptist." Hmm. But architecture lover me, well she made a special trip during winter break convincing a friend to accompany her there since it was near her home. MO is very far away from PA, but, you know, architecture! So I went and it was beautiful, it was pre me having any decent camera, so I believe I took pictures with a disposable camera but none the less it stuck with me that this was somewhere worthy to worship. After all the non-denom I attended met in a school assembly room a very big contrast indeed.
My brother was dating a Catholic girl at the time, and my upbringing led me to believe that Catholics were wild. I totally dismissed him in his inquiries about Catholicism thinking if he ended up marrying this girl that she would just become what he was because we were the actual church going people. Little did I know what God had in store for me. Oh life is funny sometimes, and I think I will end there today.
Read Part 2 Here
Monday, December 26, 2016
A year in review: 2016
1. What did you do in 2016 that you’d never done before?
I visited the Biltmore in Asheville. I found an mixed alcoholic drink that I liked on my own account, a chocolate martini. And I just remembered we fostered 5 dogs and 3 rabbits this year, we had never had a pet as a family before.
2. Did you keep your new years’ resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I was supposed to write letters to people. I did write letters, though I probably didn't do one each month like intended, I did write letters. I also picked up knitting again after a long break of not knitting.
3. How will you be spending New Year’s Eve?
Hanging out with the kids and husband putting together a puzzle watching TV. I'm very lame, and I like it that way.
I4. Did anyone close to you die? Did anyone give birth?
This was a year of death, so much death, and it was sad. We lost a baby at 13 weeks, Noel Constantine. And then my paternal grandmother died on my 9th wedding anniversary. And then my husband's maternal grandmother died in November.
As for births, there were a decent amount of them, most notably a nephew was born in November and then a good friends double rainbow baby was born in October. The list could go on, and even though we lost our baby, I'm so very thankful for the new life in these babies that were born. There is always room for more babies and the joy they bring.
5. What countries did you visit ? Did I travel this year?
I hemmed and hawed about actually taking a vacation post miscarriage, I was really still struggling with a lot of things with just living, but we decided to go through with our vacation to Asheville, NC, Nashville, TN and Cincinnati, OH. It was overall good to go, but it made me remember also why I like where we live too.
6. What would you like to have in 2017 that you lacked in 2016?
Less hurt. More joy.
7. What date from 2016 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
May 12, the day I delivered Noel. July 14, the day my grandmother died.
8. What was your biggest achievement(s) of the year?
I climbed all the stairs of Terminal Tower in Cleveland.
9. What was your biggest failure?
I never finished knitting a sweater I started making for my daughter because I messed up the one sleeve really terribly.
10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Well, I lost a baby and that felt like injury. I also have had an extremely rough time with this current pregnancy in that my left leg won't let me function or walk like I am used to doing.
11. What was the best thing you bought?
A six month pass for 6 full body massages. That's helped a ton with stress of the madness of the year.
12. Where did most of your money go?
Medical bills and paying for new doors for the house.
13. What song will always remind you of 2016?
I think Soldiers by the Rocket Summer
14. What do you wish you’d done more of?
Swimming in the summer. I was in a funk for most of the summer that I don't remember enjoying it like I should have.
15. What do you wish you’d done less of?
Worrying.
16. What was your favorite new TV program?
This is Us. It makes me cry and smile and laugh. A good program for sure.
17. Do you love anyone now that you didn’t love this time last year?
I think two people. Noel and baby girl Kurak #2.
18. What was the best book you read?
The Awakening of Miss Prim
19. What item of clothing did I wear the most?
Full length compression stockings, and maternity leggings. I am completely 100% pro leggings at this point.
20. What was your favorite film of this year?
Inside Out
21. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
My husband cooked a meal for me, a modified thanksgiving dinner. I also went out with friends for a meal a bit later. I turned 33.
22. What kept you sane?
Prayer, knitting, friends especially Sarah.
23. Who did you miss?
The obvious would be my grandmother and my baby. But I think also my friend Janelle.
24. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned..
I think just life is really, really hard at times, and I think what I learned is that I am so thankful that God gave me my husband to stand by my side in these hard times. I also learned that I wasn't crazy on some things where I though I was, and so I think maybe to trust your gut but also to take care of yourself because if you don't then you can't help others very well. And lastly that death is part of life, and its a very unpredictable thing.
25. What pictures best represent 2015?
Monday, December 12, 2016
A girl
Last week it was confirmed that we were having another girl at an OB check up. I had thought many times before that this baby was a girl. It felt a bit like my previous girl pregnancy, full of emotion and just many other weird things that seem to go along with a girl pregnancy and me.
As you may recall my one grandmother died this past July and it hit like a ton of bricks because it was loss followed by loss for me and out of any of my grandparents, she was the one whom of which I was closest. Just a few days prior to her death I had an inkling that I was pregnant and took a test and found out I was. But everything in my head was such a mess and I was just in grief it was hard to focus.
One day though, I blurted out that if this baby was a girl, that I really wanted to name it after my grandmother. But to me that was just a thought, and though it was a nice one, I didn't think it would come to fruition.
Fast forward to November, where yet another grandmother died, this time Keith's maternal grandmother, it felt like something was lining up. I went to my monthly appointment at the OB to check on things and well, baby at the time wanted us to wait a bit longer to see boy or girl. So deflated I went home, knowing that he or she was healthy but nothing else.
And then December came, and I got another chance at one of my last OB appointments before I officially made the switch to my old midwife for a home birth. I needed some extra reassurance this pregnancy due to the later miscarriage last time and so, I chose to do co-care with an OB. It meant more appointments, but also I think it helped me see that last time didn't define this pregnancy. I asked this time if we could find out if this was a boy or girl, and the OB said that we could take a look. And girl it was.
And so it comes back to the name. I know most people think through names a lot, and I am one of those people with the distinction that I like Saint names to be part of my children's names. I didn't have this as a protestant growing up and it feels like its one thing that maybe my kids will have that will help them to remind them that they are not alone in this life and they can ask their namesakes to pray for them.
Thinking about girl #2's name, made me think about girl #1's name. Girl #1 for us is Helena Perpetua. Oddly enough without me knowing it and it slipped dear husband's memory that on top of having saint namesakes, she also has a great grandmother she's shares a name with, Helen. Some providential naming happening or coincidental affinities to names at the least.
When approaching girl #2, Keith and I have agreed we want to honor our grandmothers that passed away this past year, and it just feels right to do so. This means that baby girl #2 would have two middle names, and I think that's kind of fun though maybe tricky legally. A side note is that I have one more living grandmother, and as odd or maybe not odd, her first and middle name is a combination of the other two grandmothers names. So not that it was completely planned out to be so, but it seems to be lining up as so. The only thing is we feel its good for her to have part of her name be her own and so we aren't just going to take the two middles and make one be a first. Instead she will have our picked out first Saint name. So two legacy middle names (Saints as well) it is and it seems just about right.
Now, as to what they are, well, that you will have to wait for to find out...
As you may recall my one grandmother died this past July and it hit like a ton of bricks because it was loss followed by loss for me and out of any of my grandparents, she was the one whom of which I was closest. Just a few days prior to her death I had an inkling that I was pregnant and took a test and found out I was. But everything in my head was such a mess and I was just in grief it was hard to focus.
One day though, I blurted out that if this baby was a girl, that I really wanted to name it after my grandmother. But to me that was just a thought, and though it was a nice one, I didn't think it would come to fruition.
Fast forward to November, where yet another grandmother died, this time Keith's maternal grandmother, it felt like something was lining up. I went to my monthly appointment at the OB to check on things and well, baby at the time wanted us to wait a bit longer to see boy or girl. So deflated I went home, knowing that he or she was healthy but nothing else.
And then December came, and I got another chance at one of my last OB appointments before I officially made the switch to my old midwife for a home birth. I needed some extra reassurance this pregnancy due to the later miscarriage last time and so, I chose to do co-care with an OB. It meant more appointments, but also I think it helped me see that last time didn't define this pregnancy. I asked this time if we could find out if this was a boy or girl, and the OB said that we could take a look. And girl it was.
And so it comes back to the name. I know most people think through names a lot, and I am one of those people with the distinction that I like Saint names to be part of my children's names. I didn't have this as a protestant growing up and it feels like its one thing that maybe my kids will have that will help them to remind them that they are not alone in this life and they can ask their namesakes to pray for them.
Thinking about girl #2's name, made me think about girl #1's name. Girl #1 for us is Helena Perpetua. Oddly enough without me knowing it and it slipped dear husband's memory that on top of having saint namesakes, she also has a great grandmother she's shares a name with, Helen. Some providential naming happening or coincidental affinities to names at the least.
When approaching girl #2, Keith and I have agreed we want to honor our grandmothers that passed away this past year, and it just feels right to do so. This means that baby girl #2 would have two middle names, and I think that's kind of fun though maybe tricky legally. A side note is that I have one more living grandmother, and as odd or maybe not odd, her first and middle name is a combination of the other two grandmothers names. So not that it was completely planned out to be so, but it seems to be lining up as so. The only thing is we feel its good for her to have part of her name be her own and so we aren't just going to take the two middles and make one be a first. Instead she will have our picked out first Saint name. So two legacy middle names (Saints as well) it is and it seems just about right.
Now, as to what they are, well, that you will have to wait for to find out...
Sunday, December 11, 2016
To be me, broken and all.
I've been a bit restless these past few weeks, especially last night. I didn't fall asleep until 3am. I couldn't shut my brain down enough to sleep. And this is not always the case, but usually is something that comes when something big has happened.
I know many techniques of calming myself down, and sometimes they work and sometimes they don't because I can overpower that if something is really affecting me so much. In some ways, I find this helpful because it helps me to realize that I need to take time to process and can't just get by anymore.
And that's where I'm at. A lot has happened since Thanksgiving, and its fascinating and terrifying and challenging all at once. I finally spoke up about something that has plagued me for years. With it players played just so in a way that I knew I was no longer crazy. That this needed to be done and I need to break to be changed. I couldn't keep it together anymore, and that hadn't been happening for a while, I also couldn't be silent anymore. Because the silence was making me feel misunderstood. Not that I'm ever understood, but anyway. So I wrote a letter saying how things were.
And I felt at peace doing that, but now I feel like I'm waiting and am in this weird place that if I started something I would just be pulled back into the painful disfunction. But now I'm sitting her questioning motives and trying to see where to go next and it just feel big. Like I recently noticed that to be an authority, I feel like I'm being mean every time. And I'm thinking this comes from not being assertive in my life until now. But how do you figure out if you are being mean or assertive when you have only known how to bend over backward not to make someone blow up in your face about something? It makes the whole Christianity bits of being our brother's keepers and watching out for one another be messy things in your mind. Because enabling isn't helping, or watching out for someone even if it appears that way from the outside. And setting boundaries against hurt isn't blaming someone its taking ownership that this is more than you can handle.
Maybe, though, maybe its not my job to predict someone's reaction. And maybe that's where I'm struggling. I still want to accommodate someone else's reaction, which I can't do. I feel very selfish in saying that I need to think of only what I'm trying to communicate, but maybe that's not selfish? Maybe, its just that I'm skewed in my thinking that I perceive it this way.
One more thing, in a way, I have been thinking that it would be nice to have things work well already. To lament that this is terrible and just be angry, but maybe, I just need to be in this brokenness. That this is where I'm going to see Jesus right now. That this is where I can feel his love, not in the perfect but in the imperfect. And maybe there will be growth there as well. One day it would be nice to be able to look back and see this as something that I can be an advocate for that one can get through this, but I'm not there yet, and that's got to be okay too.
I know many techniques of calming myself down, and sometimes they work and sometimes they don't because I can overpower that if something is really affecting me so much. In some ways, I find this helpful because it helps me to realize that I need to take time to process and can't just get by anymore.
And that's where I'm at. A lot has happened since Thanksgiving, and its fascinating and terrifying and challenging all at once. I finally spoke up about something that has plagued me for years. With it players played just so in a way that I knew I was no longer crazy. That this needed to be done and I need to break to be changed. I couldn't keep it together anymore, and that hadn't been happening for a while, I also couldn't be silent anymore. Because the silence was making me feel misunderstood. Not that I'm ever understood, but anyway. So I wrote a letter saying how things were.
And I felt at peace doing that, but now I feel like I'm waiting and am in this weird place that if I started something I would just be pulled back into the painful disfunction. But now I'm sitting her questioning motives and trying to see where to go next and it just feel big. Like I recently noticed that to be an authority, I feel like I'm being mean every time. And I'm thinking this comes from not being assertive in my life until now. But how do you figure out if you are being mean or assertive when you have only known how to bend over backward not to make someone blow up in your face about something? It makes the whole Christianity bits of being our brother's keepers and watching out for one another be messy things in your mind. Because enabling isn't helping, or watching out for someone even if it appears that way from the outside. And setting boundaries against hurt isn't blaming someone its taking ownership that this is more than you can handle.
Maybe, though, maybe its not my job to predict someone's reaction. And maybe that's where I'm struggling. I still want to accommodate someone else's reaction, which I can't do. I feel very selfish in saying that I need to think of only what I'm trying to communicate, but maybe that's not selfish? Maybe, its just that I'm skewed in my thinking that I perceive it this way.
One more thing, in a way, I have been thinking that it would be nice to have things work well already. To lament that this is terrible and just be angry, but maybe, I just need to be in this brokenness. That this is where I'm going to see Jesus right now. That this is where I can feel his love, not in the perfect but in the imperfect. And maybe there will be growth there as well. One day it would be nice to be able to look back and see this as something that I can be an advocate for that one can get through this, but I'm not there yet, and that's got to be okay too.
Sunday, November 27, 2016
A Seasons of Life Reflection
I think a lot of folks were disappointed in the Gilmore Girls revival because nothing happened with the character development in the main two characters. And while, yes this was true. On the other hand it was almost fitting, there was never a strong undercurrent in the value of relationship. Instead there was a lot of use of another person instead of seeing them as human. I've been thinking about relationships a lot lately, and its hard to live them. Sometimes you have to step away and sometimes you really have to step outside your comfort zone to grow.
Currently in a main relationship of mine I've had to step away from it, I haven't figured out how to have this relationship and not be in constant pain from it. Its a complicated one and while I wish it was better its not and its hard and feels so slow in how it is to be made better. But I guess this is one way that I feel as if I differ from Rory or Lorelai, though a lot of times I feel like Lorelai and relate more to her than Rory any day. But the thing is that I am trying to make progress in my own self, because I know now there is no way that I can change the situation at hand except to do that, but progress is slow.
One thing I liked in watching Seasons was that at the very end it did feel like Lorelai and her mother were in a better place, something I hope for myself someday with my relationship I had to step away from currently. In the end of season 7 of the original series, it felt like Lorelai was able to understand and relate better to her dad, but it wasn't until the end of this series that I felt she was able to speak to her mom and not feel like she had to defend herself. A lot of times Lorelai is stuck as her 16 year old self in her maturity because, well, something traumatic did happen to her then and psychologically that does happen a lot to people. And honestly that does bug me at times. It feels like she's never really dealt with her issues and carries them everywhere. But a lot of us do this. I know we want to say we don't, but there are definitely times when we do, especially if we don't recognize that we are doing so because a lot of other things are going well.
That is why to me, I was okay with Lorelai being where she was, I mean her lifestyle and values are different than mine, me being a practicing Catholic, her being an agnostic perhaps. But I think the humanity seen in her and that things sometimes take time to make progress, I think I liked that bit. And not that the writers were trying to accomplish this at all, but to me it was a reminder to trust in the slow work of God, or at least what seems slow to us in this world were we can get anything material we want in a snipet of time for the right price. But don't let me start on Rory, she is a whole different kind of non progress brought to you by many things I haven't had the fortunate "privilege" like her to become so.
Currently in a main relationship of mine I've had to step away from it, I haven't figured out how to have this relationship and not be in constant pain from it. Its a complicated one and while I wish it was better its not and its hard and feels so slow in how it is to be made better. But I guess this is one way that I feel as if I differ from Rory or Lorelai, though a lot of times I feel like Lorelai and relate more to her than Rory any day. But the thing is that I am trying to make progress in my own self, because I know now there is no way that I can change the situation at hand except to do that, but progress is slow.
One thing I liked in watching Seasons was that at the very end it did feel like Lorelai and her mother were in a better place, something I hope for myself someday with my relationship I had to step away from currently. In the end of season 7 of the original series, it felt like Lorelai was able to understand and relate better to her dad, but it wasn't until the end of this series that I felt she was able to speak to her mom and not feel like she had to defend herself. A lot of times Lorelai is stuck as her 16 year old self in her maturity because, well, something traumatic did happen to her then and psychologically that does happen a lot to people. And honestly that does bug me at times. It feels like she's never really dealt with her issues and carries them everywhere. But a lot of us do this. I know we want to say we don't, but there are definitely times when we do, especially if we don't recognize that we are doing so because a lot of other things are going well.
That is why to me, I was okay with Lorelai being where she was, I mean her lifestyle and values are different than mine, me being a practicing Catholic, her being an agnostic perhaps. But I think the humanity seen in her and that things sometimes take time to make progress, I think I liked that bit. And not that the writers were trying to accomplish this at all, but to me it was a reminder to trust in the slow work of God, or at least what seems slow to us in this world were we can get anything material we want in a snipet of time for the right price. But don't let me start on Rory, she is a whole different kind of non progress brought to you by many things I haven't had the fortunate "privilege" like her to become so.
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