Oh, the Irony!

I first realized I wanted children when we learned that our neighbors, who included a wonderful little boy and girl, were moving away. I felt an intense sense of loss and longing to have our own children, who would not be taken away.

It is now almost two decades later, and my oldest daughter is in high school, her siblings close on her heels. And guess what? even though they are still living at home, they have moved further and further away. They spend their time with friends, they don't seek me out to discuss anything, they definitely prefer to be left to their own devices. No matter what I say or how I say it, they think I am angry or upset and respond defensively. Dad is their preferred go-to parent and I am definitely an also-ran.

I don't know how to respond to this situation. I find myself doing and saying less all the time, and watching them adjust happily to my increasing reserve. I definitely feel invisible.

But the worst part is watching their heartaches. They are crashing into a world that doesn't know them and doesn't want to, and wouldn't care about them if it did. They are suffering, and it breaks my heart to sit helpless and watch.

I don't know how to make this transition smoothly, so I will just stumble on. Having no one to share all this with, I hold it out to God to see what happens. This morning I had a small epiphany:

God must feel the same way about us, His children. Here I sit suffering alone, with my back to Him, forgetting about him as I struggle through this wretched existence. And He's there next to me, invisible, aching to comfort me even if only by commiserating.

I'm sorry Lord for forgetting you, my Father. Please be with me now even if that's all that can be done right now.

Lenten Retreat - Mom-style

Retreats are a time away from your daily life, an opportunity to put down or away everything you normally do and spend that "free" time with the Lord.  That's more or less a Catholic view of the thing at least.  Lent is a popular time for retreats, as the Church walks with Jesus through the days leading up to His great sacrifice and our own redemption. He sets His face toward Jerusalem and makes his way up to Zion.  It sounds very spiritual, almost cozy.

At the moment, my opinion is warped by a bad head cold, which happened to strike me way back toward the beginning of Lent. Yes, I have suffered throbbing sinus, a wracking cough, muffled hearing and a general wish to sleep and never wake up, for the past 40 days.  Though I did start Ratzinger's "Jesus of Nazareth: Holy Week" with the intention of a contemplative Lent, I haven't had the energy to get past the first half (though trust me even that is an enriching spiritual activity).

I have suffered constant misery this Lent. And tried to unite my unglamorous suffering with Our Lord's. Not at all the way I would wish to assist Him in His great mission! I would prefer to suffer great hunger or spend hours on my knees in prayer, or go out and do good works for many, perhaps work in a soup kitchen or something.

Instead I have had endure petty misery and a lack of energy, and a constant grumpiness at my family who have the nerve to be slightly less sick than I am. Definitely not the type of suffering I think of as redemptive.  Lord, how on earth does this help You in any way with Your work?

But I have faith, even against my own opinion, that in some way even this miserable miserableness can help Him, if I close my eyes and say along with Him, "not my will but Yours be done."