5 Simple ways to grow in the virtue of poverty this Lent

  
One of the things my family is trying to do this Lent is to grow in the virtue of poverty, in order to better appreciate our many blessings, and to be able to share them more with others. We were inspired by Pope Francis’ encyclical Laudato Si to be more aware of what we consume and to not waste food when so many go hungry. 
Here are some simple ideas you could try as well.

1. Unless you plan to freeze it right away, make just enough food for your meal. Often leftovers get left for too long and end up in the compost! Or if you do have leftovers, take them for lunch instead of eating out at work. 

2. Try to use up what’s in your cupboards, instead of always buying more food. Sometimes this is a good creative challenge! This week I made French Onion soup with my many onions, Chocolate Pumpkin Loaf with a can of pumpkin in the cupboard, Lentil Dahl and rice with my cans of tomatoes and coconut milk, gnocchi with frozen peas and rosé sauce, and some good old beans and toast! Instead of a fancy salad, we had slices of apples or fresh veggies on the side. 

3. Eat more vegetarian. Things like beans, rice and veggies are cheap and nutritious, and can be cooked in tons of different delicious ways. Go on Pinterest for inspiring yummy photos.

4. Make use of the last drop…After my morning coffee I’ve been pouring that little extra bit of coffee from my French press into a glass Starbucks bottle, then adding a little milk and sugar and putting it in the fridge. Voilá! Now my afternoon coffee is ready! 

5. Don’t buy anything unnecessary. Shop from your closet. Find those things you forgot about in the back of your wardrobe and combine them in new ways. Enjoy the liberty of choosing to be happy without those new shoes or that new gadget. You are bigger than that. Our hearts weren’t meant do be filled with mere stuff. 

Perhaps it does not appeal to give up things or be frugal, but we have to ask ourselves, if we can’t give up even little things for a short time, are we truly free? Also, the less we “need” the more we can give, and the richer we truly are. 

What do you like to do to live more simply?

Praying with Paint: Transcendent Art

Today my friend and fellow Love Rebel: Reclaiming Motherhood author Melanie Jean Juneau posted some very inspiring and beautiful artwork by artist Ladislav Zaborsk and I wanted to share a few of the pieces with you. The warmth of the colours are amazing! For me, looking at these paintings draws my spirit to prayer. 

   

I also loved the quote she included from him in her moving post:

The substance of my work is the experience of God transferred into my heart (…) Art that seeks truth and beauty is the anticipation of eternity.

Here’s the link to Melanie’s post to read more about her experience of surrendering to the Divine and to see more of Zaborsk ‘s beautiful art work which helped her express these intimate emotions: Joy of 9.

 
 

Messy, vulnerable perfection…

I heard a story of a baby conceived in difficult circumstances…a troubled teenage mom, the father not involved, the family in distress and full of uncertainty. And I thought about Christmas—the Holy Family…young, poor, without a place to stay, rejected…a bad scene—from the outside. And inside, for the eyes of faith: warmth, love, light, God’s graceful providence. And hope. Hope because God in His great mercy was willing to share in our fragile human life…in the messy, vulnerable perfection that is a baby. 

Do we reject Him? Do we run away from the source of all goodness because He has the smell of a stable? Because He is okay with a bed of straw? Do we keep seeking Him in the silken sheets of palaces, because we want a God made in our image? And this is the image we want: riches, comfort, power, control. Not the messy, vulnerable perfection that is a baby. 

These are not new ideas, but I think they are worth revisiting. Because embracing new life, no matter what the circumstances, is a way to embrace God. Trusting that He is with us in everything, and is able to bring good out of everything, even when we mess up, even when things don’t go according to our plans—made with our small human minds and our limited vision. Even when our plans don’t include the messy, vulnerable perfection that is a baby. 

But maybe it’s precisely that baby who will be our salvation, who will bring untold goodness to the world, who will change our lives and our hearts for the better. This Christmas season, which is still going on, let’s try to remember that in embracing our human reality, with all its difficulties, we are also embracing God, who has entered into it…Who has raised it up to touch the Divine. When we eventually caress the face of that baby, born unplanned and unexpected, let us realize we are also touching the face of God, who enters our lives with His unexpected plans, and changes them forever. 

 

Small, brilliant humans…

   
 

Today I watched  Do schools kill creativity? It’s a great Ted talk by educator Sir Ken Robinson about the nature of education…or even more so about the nature of children. Robinson believes that all children are naturally creative and original, and that the exceptionally bright children wouldn’t be so exceptional if we didn’t spend so much time drilling the creativity our of all the others. Three ways we do this are:

  1. expecting them all to behave the same way in the class room, and almost always diagnosing difference as a condition to be medicated and ‘normalized’. 
  2. instilling a huge fear of making mistakes, which makes creative originality almost impossible, because one has to be willing to risk being wrong in order to do something new. 
  3. focussing so heavily on the academic areas of math and literacy to the exclusion of other areas like dance, drama, music, etc. 

He told an anecdote of a little girl in the thirties who couldn’t sit still in class. She was always fidgeting. Her mother was called in to discuss her trouble at school. After speaking with her and her mother, the teacher, or perhaps it was the principle, asked the mother to step out of the room for a moment with him. Before leaving he switched on the radio. They looked at the little girl through the glass window in the wall. She immediately was on her feet and moving to the beat. 

Your little girl isn’t learning impared. She’s a dancer. Please take her to a dance school.

That was the best advice the mother ever had. Her daughter flourished at the Royal Academy of Ballet, and went on to make millions producing shows like “Cats” and “Phantom of the Opera.” 

And yet we tell kids…don’t bother with music or dance…you can’t make a living at that. Instead we have said for so long, “Be smart and get a degree. Then you’ll be guaranteed a job.” Sir Robinson says we have created a kind of academic inflation, where degrees have become so common that they mean almost nothing, and now a PHD is required for jobs that used to only need a bachelor’s degree. He joked that much as he likes university professors, having previously been one himself, he doesn’t think we are all meant to be professors!

I won’t give away the whole talk…about educating the whole person and not just the head…but you should really watch it because besides being interesting, it is also funny. Being British, Sir Robinson has that fantastic dry sense of humour, and I kept laughing so hard I woke up the baby sleeping on my lap! 

The whole talk made me feel that we need to consciously redefine our view of educating children…that ideas like the blank slate to be filled with ideas, or the small uncultured creature to be civilized are so far off. Perhaps a better definition of kids would be small, brilliant humans, who are unafraid to share their brilliance with others, and with the world. Let’s encourage our kids to keep burning brightly with all their wild and crazy ideas and funny inventions so they that don’t fall into becoming typical adults: large dim humans who are so afraid of making a mistake or displeasing others that they won’t try anything different or new, cause better safe than sorry!

  

Paradox

  

If you want to know true joy,

look to the one who has experienced deep sadness.

If you want to find strength,

look to the one who has been broken. 

If you want to know peace,

look to the one who has wrestled with despair. 

If you want to know laughter, 

look to the one who has wept. 

If you want to know loyalty,

look to the one who has been abandoned.

If you want to be truly human,

look to God.

Island Encounter

Today my old university friend told me 
of his travels
to Greece 
a day he spent stranded
on a tiny island inhabited by 25 people
and about 40 cats

After missing his stop on the ferry 
he wandered about the island
and stumbled upon a little white church
perched like a sun-bleached shell upon 
this little rocky island

It was surrounded by a low stone wall
and as there was no one around 
except perhaps a stray cat
he clambered over it 
to take a closer look

After a few pictures
he reached up the rocky wall
to leave but lost his grip
falling backwards on the hard stone churchyard

Stuck on his back
with his face to the sky
he told me
laughing now
he figured maybe God
was punishing him for breaking in

I smiled 

thinking how instead this was a divine romance
Providence whisking him away to the little island
drawing him to the church
for a quiet moment alone
wanting to speak to his heart

But…fear of trespassing on holy ground
stifled the still small voice
and kept my friend in darkness
thinking the One whose love for him exceeds
that of any other
was only out to punish him

Reality is the greatest mystery

We adults are so easily bored. We think we’ve seen it all and that a fantasy would be much more interesting than our real lives. How shortsighted our vision is…how little we perceive as we fuss about our busy, distracted, task driven days. How much we complain, rather than stop and give thanks, in awe of even being alive….the wonder of existing at all. There could be a million stories written in which we did it exist. A million versions of life on earth without us. And yet here we are. 

Children have more sense of this. Their minds are not so constricted by supposed practicalities. Reality, seen through the eyes of a child, is the greatest mystery there is.

And in honour of the messy realness of children’s vision, the lovely freeness and honesty of it, here are some pictures of my kids, taken by my kids…in this case my 5 year old daughter, who has a fantastic imagination, and for whom the little moments in life are still an adventure. 

   
    
    
    
 

Hope you enjoyed this peek into a little moment in her world! May your day be as bright and cheerful as this sunflower, no matter what the weather.

What it’s like to be pregnant after losing a baby.

  
I’ve been keeping this sitting in my heart for a while, so you could say this post has been a long time in coming. As you can guess from the title, for those of you who don’t already know, I am expecting a baby this November, after having lost my little Josephine in labour last September 30th. It is hard. Beautiful but hard. 

I’m normally one to be on the phone with mom buddies the second the little plus sign shows up on the pregnancy test, but this time I’ve been much more hesitant to talk about things. My usual excitement has been tempered by the confusing feelings of having lost my last child, and not knowing how to experience a simple, trusting hope that everything will be fine. 

I do hope and trust, but in a more complex and nuanced way. Not in the way of thinking things will always turn out how I want them to. But hoping in a plan that’s bigger than mine, a vision far wiser and more encompassing than mine. In a love stronger than death, knowing that no matter what, I can never truly be separated from my babies. 

Sometimes children are so wise. My five year old told me, “Don’t worry, Mummy. Either the new baby will come be with us, or will go be with Josephine in Heaven. So it’s ok.” What strength and clarity of vision!

It is hard to take this risk again—the risk that I might not see my baby smile or breathe until I meet him in Heaven—but it is a way of affirming that I am still alive, still have hope, still believe in goodness in a world where hard things also happen. Besides, the only way to ensure my heart could never be broken again would be to stop it pumping, but risking brokenness is essential to being open to life and to love. It’s part of the fragile thing called being human. 

Several of my close friends have lost babies and have been able to have one after. Those babies are a beacon of hope for me. I rejoice in each one of them. I realize they are miracle and a free a gift, rather than a right. We think we have so many rights, but we forget that people can only come to us as gift, in the freedom of love. 

I also rejoice in the children I do have, just seeing them running around full of life, dancing and laughing, and I think to myself, “They made it. That incredible journey…like little travellers from a far off planet, they made it through the epic journey of the few inches from womb to world, and arrived home.”

So as November approaches, please keep me in your prayers. Especially my little one, that he may arrive safely into his mama’s arms, and that this time, my tears will be of joy. And for all of you who are in the same boat, know my heartfelt prayers are with you as well. 

  

A Recipe for Trancendental Chocolate Bars

I’ve been reading some philosophy lately, so my head is filled with funny terms…what better to do with them when I can’t sleep than turn them into a delicious recipe?  

                  🍫🍫🍫Trancendental Chocolate Bars🍫🍫🍫

  1. Pour 2 cups existential questioning into an empty bowl. 
  2. Add 1/2 cup human knowledge and 3/4 cup yearning for the infinite.
  3. Mix with 3 tsp humility and a dash of wonder. 
  4. Add liberal amounts of certain proof for intelligent design (ie chocolate).
  5. Stir until you are satisfied with its finite existence. 
  6. Bake at 350 until it exudes its essence. 
  7. Cut in pieces small enough to fit the human mind and enjoy with coffee and conversation about the transcendence of being. 
  8. Forgive me for being silly at 2 am! 😋

Wendell Berry’s “How to be a Poet”

Poetry as a gift of silence…Here is a poem which spoke to my heart like a familiar breeze ruffling through the forest, bringing new life and resonating with joy. It is from author Wendell Berry’s book New Collected Poems

  

HOW TO BE A POET (to remind myself)

Make a place to sit down.

Sit down. Be quiet.

You must depend upon

affection, reading, knowledge,

skill — more of each

than you have — inspiration,

work, growing older, patience,

for patience joins time

to eternity. Any readers

who like your poems,

doubt their judgment.

Breathe with unconditional breath

the unconditioned air.

Shun electric wire.

Communicate slowly. Live

a three-dimensioned life;

stay away from screens.

Stay away from anything

that obscures the place it is in.

There are no unsacred places;

there are only sacred places

and desecrated places.

Accept what comes from silence.

Make the best you can of it.

Of the little words that come

out of the silence, like prayers

prayed back to the one who prays,

make a poem that does not disturb

the silence from which it came.