tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-142522932024-03-06T23:42:02.729-07:00just showing upBeing a wife and a mother. Speaking out for Africa. Learning that everything is sacred.Brianna Heldthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224838737334231065noreply@blogger.comBlogger1223125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14252293.post-86546576080006073122013-05-21T14:40:00.001-06:002013-05-21T14:40:30.600-06:00MovingNo, I'm not headed to a new house--we just did that. :)<br />
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<strong>The new and improved <a href="http://www.briannaheldt.com/">Just Showing Up</a> is finally ready!</strong> It's been a great seven-ish years with Blogger, but it's time to move on. <br />
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Please update your blogroll and bookmarks to <a href="http://www.briannaheldt.com/">www.briannaheldt.com</a>. <br />
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I'm still tweaking some things here and there (pretty sure the designer, and most of the employees at Bluehost, are completely sick of me by now), but from now on that's where you can find me.<br />
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And head on over now, because <strong>I'm kicking off my new blog with a lively discussion about cheating men and Pat Robertson.</strong> You know you don't want to miss that!Brianna Heldthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224838737334231065noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14252293.post-86519818978246826002013-05-06T15:25:00.000-06:002013-05-06T16:54:16.856-06:00The sin of adoption<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip7WIIWPNQPIjj-l1Gpit21MuuOpTEsofgRog7P8Ge-RyjlV9vmJRcpMTY-ngJq0Blzs94UW83OHKtx1u8pJCGHhA3rEvo87Doj6tkRQKFqMP6CF0JjbLurxGYbRjGjGf3_cqp/s1600/P4200298.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip7WIIWPNQPIjj-l1Gpit21MuuOpTEsofgRog7P8Ge-RyjlV9vmJRcpMTY-ngJq0Blzs94UW83OHKtx1u8pJCGHhA3rEvo87Doj6tkRQKFqMP6CF0JjbLurxGYbRjGjGf3_cqp/s400/P4200298.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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A recent <em>Mother Jones</em> article by Kathryn Joyce has the adoption community all abuzz. </div>
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With a title like <a href="http://m.motherjones.com/politics/2013/04/christian-evangelical-adoption-liberia">"Orphan Fever: The Evangelical Movement's Adoption Obsession"</a>, you can see why.</div>
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This "orphan fever" phenomenon among evangelicals has actually intrigued me for a long time now. Because adoption is not only common in evangelical circles, it has spread like <em>wildfire</em>. If you don't believe me, consider that adoption ministries, organizations, agencies, support groups and grant funds have <em>exploded</em> in recent years. When we brought our sons home in early 2006 for example, there were five agencies placing children from Ethiopia. Within a few years that number had jumped to well over <em>fifty</em>. <strong>It's simply a fact: evangelicals have the corner on international adoption.</strong></div>
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Although my husband and I are now Catholic, we attended an evangelical church for many years. But we completed our own adoption before the evangelical orphan movement really hit its stride. So my experience adopting within evangelical subculture was a bit different from what things might look like for an evangelical today--we didn't know anyone else pursuing adoption, we didn't know any adopted children, and so we found our adoption community online. And that community was a <em>mix</em> of people, evangelicals and Mormons and Buddhists and Methodists and people not claiming any sort of spirituality whatsoever. It honestly felt as if we had quite a lot in common with those folks. They spoke our language. They didn't question our sanity for jumping from one to three children. </div>
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So we didn't have the experience of being inspired to adopt by a Rick Warren sermon or an adoption ministry at our church, or by a sappy video presentation set to music. Instead, we felt called by God to be a family and home to children presently living without them. In what was essentially a vacuum. I believe it was God who planted the thought in my head that led me to research the global orphan crisis for the first time and question what we might do about it. Through prayer and discussion, my husband and I discerned that we were in a reasonably good position to open our home to vulnerable children.</div>
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And so we have done that, four times over. We adopted my sons out of a disruption (their first adoptive family changed their mind in-country), and my daughters both waited some time for a family because they were born with Down syndrome and serious heart defects. I know for a fact, after having met my children's respective birth mothers, that there were few options for these kids. Each of these women relinquished for different reasons, but the one thing they had in common was that they felt genuinely unable/unwilling to parent.</div>
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My interest in evangelicals and adoption has only grown since converting to Catholicism, because international adoption seems to be more or less <em>unique</em> to evangelicals. In other words, international adoption is not nearly so common among Catholics or other religious/nonreligious groups. <strong>For whatever reason, it is the evangelical Protestant subculture that has somehow managed to build an entire theology around adoption, mobilizing thousands of couples (most of them perfectly capable of having more biological children) to cross the globe in order to add to their families.</strong> It's rather fascinating really, and indicative of a question that I believe many evangelicals are asking: what is the purpose of the church? Of faith? Of a relationship with Jesus? Is there more to Christianity than a good sermon and Chris Tomlin choruses sung over and over again?</div>
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Those questions honestly make sense to me, because I started asking them myself once upon a time. (Watch out by the way, because if you dig too deep and read too many papal encyclicals and Scott Hahn books you might wind up reconciling with the Catholic Church. Just sayin'.) Protestants have of course answered those questions differently throughout the centuries, and adoption seems to be one of the primary "answers" right now for evangelicals. They tout scriptures like James 1:27, and use the fact that we are all adopted by God (a la Ephesians 1:5) as a sort of mandate or justification for adopting orphaned children.</div>
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<strong>I have even seen adoption become a litmus test for <em>being</em> a Christian (or for being pro-life) within evangelical circles</strong>--if you <em>truly</em> want to follow Jesus, you'll care for the orphan in this way. If you <em>really</em> believe abortion is wrong, you'll put your money (and life) where your mouth is and adopt. All of a sudden, the conservative evangelical standard had been raised from reading the Bible and going to church each week to claiming vulnerable and abandoned children as your own. And this shift in thinking and religious practice has manifested itself in what we see today: a booming international adoption infrastructure and, in the case of the agencies placing children, business.</div>
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And people are sheep. We like to follow. This is evident in everything from fashion and decorating trends to what theological ideas we subscribe to. And I really, truly believe it is supposed to be this way. Jesus wants us to be one, to be united in following and worshipping Him. But of course this group-think tendency leaks out into other areas too, and that includes the area of adoption. People see other people doing it and pause to consider if it might be for them, too.</div>
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<strong>And so it is this natural tendency to trend after other people, coupled with the religious verbiage enshrining adoption as the gold standard of Christian living, that has laid the foundation for the evangelical adoption movement</strong>. Orphan fever.</div>
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But there is also a different movement rising up, from both within and without this very circle of evangelical adoptive parents. This movement is, interestingly, a backlash <em>against</em> evangelical adoption culture. <strong>Rather than focus on the orphanhood of children and the need for them to find parents, it primarily addresses family preservation, child trafficking, and the ethics surrounding relinquishment, abandonment and adoption.</strong> It asks hard questions like, "Does the imbalance of power render adoption intrinsically unethical?" And "Have adoptive families <em>harmed</em>, more than helped, a particular culture by creating a demand and normalizing relinquishment?"</div>
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Good questions, all of them. We adoptive parents are well-aware of the ethical complexities of international adoption, or at least, we ought to be. We've heard the horror stories and seen the news specials and read the articles detailing falsified documents, village harvesting, and birth parents who believed they were merely sending their son or daughter away to attend school for a time. We've become familiar with the agencies that raise red flag after red flag--if you want to see an adoptive parent of an Ethiopian child fly off the handle, mention the acronym CWA. You'll get an earful. </div>
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So this reaction we are seeing, this questioning and rethinking of international adoption, is not unfounded. It rightly points to some things that are <em>highly</em> problematic, and is rooted in something that I believe is very, very true and right: <strong>children ought to be raised by the mother and father who conceived them.</strong> Marriage itself is ordered towards "the procreation and education of children", and God created marriage--and the children that result from that marriage--as the very building block and foundation of society. It therefore behooves the culture to have strong, intact families. Brain development, mood regulation, sensory integration, the ability to make sound decisions, attachment capability--all of these things are made to be nourished within the biological family. And all of these things are profoundly affected when that process is disrupted.</div>
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There is, therefore, really no room for romanticizing international adoption. No need to put a glossy, rosy spin on what was most certainly not the ideal for a particular child <em>or</em> for his or her birth parents. <strong> Like anything else diverging from God's intention and natural law, it is an outlier of sorts, a deviation that only occurs because our world is broken and humans are corrupted from conception.</strong> Whether it is a government which oppresses its people to the point of extreme poverty, or simply a momentary bad decision, there is the stain of sin most anywhere you look. Enter the very real problem of the disintegration of the family. Enter the very real problem of the existence of orphans. Of stigma. Of disease. Of corruption, which is alive and well within an industry where thousands upon thousands of dollars are exchanged, often between desperate families and greedy entities who stand to profit a great deal.</div>
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So you won't find me arguing that family preservation is not the generally-better way to do things, and you won't find me gushing about how God preferred my husband and I over our adopted children's respective birth parents. Ever. No matter how grateful I am to be raising these children.</div>
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But. And you knew this "but" was coming, right?</div>
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<strong>Just as I reject a happy-go-lucky, theologically based, look-the-other-way when it comes to ethics approach to international adoption, I <em>also</em> reject this<em> new</em> narrative emerging in evangelicalism, this new thing that refuses to acknowledge the nuance replete in the problem of the orphan, in the problem of a deeply impoverished culture where yes indeed there is an imbalance of power.</strong></div>
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I reject it because, in part, I believe it ignores the human dignity inherent in the element of choice. In other words, I believe it sells birth families short, assuming that because they are poor in a developing country that they would have certainly preferred to parent their child--when, quite frankly, that is simply not the case for everyone. A mother or father, in my estimation, certainly has the right to relinquish a child for various reasons. It may be financially motivated. Perhaps it has to do with stigma, or medical issues related to the child. I have met each and every one of my adopted children's birth mothers, and while every situation was unique, each woman believed she was doing the right thing. So wouldn't it be presumptuous for me to argue that because I am in a place of power, that I know better than these women? That with a little money thrown their way they could parent instead? <strong>That I somehow have a good understanding of a culture in which I have never lived? </strong> </div>
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By NO MEANS am I saying that a dangerous trend has not emerged, where this sort of thing is normalized and even encouraged by both money-hungry vultures and well-intentioned adoptive parents, like myself. That is just a given. Relinquishment ought to be a last resort, for people who have been fully informed of what it means and what it doesn't mean.</div>
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But I <em>am</em> saying that my four adopted children were legally relinquished by informed women who knew they were saying goodbye for good. I am saying that my four adopted children spent years in an orphanage where sexual abuse occasionally occurred. I am saying that my four adopted children come from a country where very little domestic infrastructure presently exists for kids like them. I am saying that I know families who adopted children who had literally been abandoned, everywhere from busy marketplaces to trash cans. My children, and countless others like them, were left vulnerable and alone. </div>
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Not every internationally adopted child was trafficked, and not every birth mother wanted to parent. It is a fact, yes, that all of us adoptive families have paid money into a <em>system</em> where corruption sometimes exists. That is why some of us are now saying that we should have put those thousands of dollars not into adoption, but into community development, United Nations efforts, family preservation and the like. And I agree that we must take care to contribute in this way. But the problem is that there is corruption and problematic ideology among those groups too. (One small example of this might be the exporting of some of our own culture's ugly beliefs about marriage and children overseas, through the promotion of hormonal birth control and abortion. As if those are the answers. I assure you, they are not.) </div>
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<strong>Even under the most ideal of circumstances, the nuclear family will occasionally break down</strong>--we need only look at our own country to see that no amount of resources or money (or the aforementioned birth control) will completely erase the demand for abortion. Or the need for a foster care system. The affluent and educated are far from immune to addiction, divorce, abuse, and the aversion to having a child. So let us work for reunification, yes, but let us also acknowledge that even with all of our efforts, there will still be the problem of the orphan, who is in my estimation far better off growing up within the context of a family than in an institution--<em>for the very reasons that reunification is ideal.</em></div>
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So to the uber-pro-adoption evangelicals, I say this: keep working on behalf of the orphan. Do your homework, be aware, try your hardest to avoid unethical situations and the creating of a demand for children (generally healthy and as-young-as-possible babies.) Don't assume a "Christian" agency is a good one. Know that there is the potential for corruption with any adoption. Know too that there are many children legitimately in need of families. Support each other and continue developing post-adoption resources because these kids have suffered a great deal and are coming from a background filled with trauma. Expect it to be hard, and do your best to present a balanced viewpoint when you're advocating for the fatherless. <strong>Avoid the temptation of reducing adoption to merely a feel-good redemption story.</strong> Tell the truth.</div>
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To the less-than-pro-adoption evangelicals: thank you for your acknowledgement of the importance of the birth family, and for your work towards family preservation. Please continue exposing unethical practices and calling agencies to task for their role in them. <strong>At the same time, remember that the problem of evil will not go away.</strong> Not all families will remain intact, and mothers and fathers must be given the space and the right to relinquish their children if they so choose. And not only that, but you must also refrain from demonizing what is arguably one of the best solutions for those children: adoption. Don't focus so exclusively on one side of evil's coin that you forget that some of our children would literally be dead were it not for agencies having a presence in a particular developing country. </div>
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As for me, I acknowledge that while there are countless ways to advocate for the orphan, my own personal experience compels me to advocate for the adoption of waiting children in those places lacking the infrastructure to care for them. <strong>Generous and responsible parenthood as defined by Blessed John Paul II, a marriage oriented to openness to life, is ripe for the parenting of the vulnerable and fatherless.</strong> Regardless what criticisms may be lobbed at the evangelical international adoption movement, it is a fact that there is indeed a legitimate need for families to adopt children. </div>
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At the same time, no, an authentic Christian faith (or pro-life ethic) should <em>never</em> be reduced to whether or not we're adopting children (probably the movement's biggest flaw, perhaps contributing the most to a blind acceptance of any and all adoption practices). <strong>On the contrary, we practice Christianity to have relationship with God and to spend forever with Him in Heaven.</strong> Jesus gave us His Church, His bride, to achieve this end. Period. </div>
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Instead we must think of adoption as a particular kind of openness to life and marital fruitfulness that some are called to do. It is not necessarily easy, and yet it is incredibly fulfilling and rooted in redemption. It is a good thing. Those of us parenting adopted children are not saints or superheroes, but instead receive the graces to do so as we need them--just like with any other thing, big or small, that God calls us to. It is a yielding of our own wants and desires and occasionally involves taking up our cross. <strong>It is a loving and proper response to the problem of evil, to Satan's attack on the family which crosses every culture and language and socieo-economic status. </strong></div>
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Finally, to Ms. Joyce: I wonder if you are perhaps painting with too broad a brush? <strong>If some of your negativity is due to your own biases <em>against</em> religious orthodoxy and the pro-life cause, and <em>towards</em> progressive feminism?</strong> I suspect this is why you characterize evangelical adoptive families as Michael-and-Debi-Pearl-loving, <em>Above Rubies</em>-reading extremists. Which seems terribly unfair, when I consider the many adoptive families I know from all <em>manner</em> of religious and political backgrounds, who adopted for all manner of reasons. While I believe you make some good points, I also think those points can be made without oversimplifying the issues and launching a thinly-veiled attack on the Christian faith. </div>
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Because we Christians have, incidentally, been about orphan care and intact families since the Church's inception, roughly two thousand years. And I can assure you that evangelical, Catholic or otherwise, we are not about to give up on "the least of these" now.</div>
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/110/B3470AEEC7912900A9A91A86ED1A884D.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a>Brianna Heldthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224838737334231065noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14252293.post-16802435713581970152013-05-03T08:41:00.001-06:002013-05-03T08:41:12.263-06:00Unscripted<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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For the past few months, my two oldest daughters have requested I hang out in their room for a bit at bedtime. They each lie in their respective bunk, tucked in snugly beneath their heart-covered bedspreads, and I either find a spot on the bottom bed with my nine year old or lounge in the doorway.</div>
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There is always chatting and laughter, and occasionally questions of great importance and relevance to a nine-year-old and six-year-old. Questions like, "Mom, what will I do if <em>two</em> people want to marry me someday?"</div>
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<br clear="none" />My kids obviously don't have a problem with self-esteem.</div>
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<br clear="none" />And although by that time of night I'm more than anxious to get on with my own evening--watching reruns of <em>The Office</em> with my husband, while tucked into my own cozy bed with Alice sleeping sweetly by my side--I treasure these times with my daughters ever so much. They <em>want</em> me there at the end of the day. They think a lot, and have questions about life, and they look to me for the answers. </div>
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<br clear="none" />And oh, how I want to say the right things, the things that build up and breathe Truth and speak freedom to two little girls well on their way to becoming young women. I'm their mother, entrusted with preparing them not only for life but also for eternity with God. <strong>Our home and our family mysteriously exist as a microcosm of Christ's bride, the Church, and our very <em>marriage</em> is ordered towards bringing forth and educating our children.</strong></div>
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<br clear="none" />This is why each night after the dinner dishes are cleared and the kitchen is cleaned and children are showered and dressed for bed, our family gathers for prayers in the living room. We read the Bible together. We talk about saints and learn the catechism. Our hope is that through this structured routine, our children will experience a robust and personal relationship with God while also receiving a good foundation in the tenets of the faith. But we're also learning that sometimes, the biggest and most important conversations happen in the final moments before little ones drift off to sleep, when they dream out loud and ask hard questions and long for the company of a loving mom and dad. </div>
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<br clear="none" />So I've made it a priority to, without exception, say yes to a few moments with my girls in their room each night. Bedtime tucking in is generally my husband's special ritual with the kids, but I'm learning to enjoy my role in it too. And my secret hope? That my daughters will still treasure these conversations when we head into the teen years, when no doubt the questions become harder to answer, and when there will surely be some tears and worries and drama mixed in with the end-of-the-day giggling and joy. The stakes will be higher and I suppose that is why we try to set the course now, when they're little. Open communication, honesty, love, and willingness to laugh at the tough stuff together. As a family.</div>
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<br clear="none" />I'm not sure if it's this way for everybody, but ever since my oldest started speaking in complete sentences, I've known that while some things get easier as children grow (fewer diapers, greater independence, more capabilities), some become more difficult--I'm less <em>physically</em> tired at the end of a day, but far <em>more</em> emotionally spent. Because by the day's end I've dedicated hours upon hours to listening, responding, empathizing, guiding, and listening some more. I've praised drawings, laughed at jokes I've heard a dozen times already, encouraged someone to tell the truth, explained why God is or isn't this or that way, and hugged no fewer than two small people wailing at the tops of their lungs. I generally fall into bed exhausted. But in a good way. Because it means I've worked, I've fulfilled, I've invested in something far more precious and eternal than any worldly pursuit. I'm not winning the Nobel Peace Prize or curing cancer--instead, I'm merely raising my children.</div>
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<br clear="none" />But in spite of being unglamorous and fairly mundane (I say "fairly" because sometimes parenting eight kids <em>can</em> get pretty interesting), it has incredibly far-reaching consequences for not only myself, my husband and my kids, but for the greater culture as well. See I'm hoping, really hoping, to raise secure, positive, respectful people who will one day go on to work at jobs and have children of their own and vote in elections and be members of local parishes. They will each contribute to society in some way, for good or for bad. At this point I'm hopeful that it will be good, but even if it isn't, I want to be able to say that I did what I could. <strong>That I loved and nurtured and guided well, in spite of my own shortcomings and imperfections.</strong> Nobody's perfect, least of all me, but I at least want to <em>try</em>.</div>
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<br clear="none" />And want to know a secret? Lest you hear about my bedtime conversations and assume that I must be some sort of quintessential mother from a Norman Rockwell painting, <em>I'm not much of a natural kid person.</em> I never had any desire to work at a daycare or be a teacher, and I don't like crafts or mess or chaos. (Those words are synonymous in my book, and just the <em>thought</em> of running a daycare would give me hives, if I got hives.) So don't think that I'm speaking to you as That Mom with a perfectly structured home, who feeds her kids organic snacks in fun shapes, plays parachute out on the lawn with the children every day, and who never yells. That's not me. Instead, <em>I'm</em> the mom that tells her kids she's not here to entertain them, who gets on them to do their chores, and who doesn't dole out many snacks, period, because isn't it better to eat good, healthy meals that you're actually hungry for at mealtime? I'm old-school like that. (Fresh veggies, fruit, cheese and hard-boiled eggs are pretty much the in-between-meal options around these here parts. Oh and otterpops in the summertime. Because you're only a kid (and therefore eligible to eat frozen sugar water) once).</div>
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<br clear="none" /><strong>My theory is that the vocation of marriage and motherhood got conflated at some point with the position of Fun Activities Director, and we have culturally bought into the idea that being intentional has everything to do with throwing creative birthday bashes and taking kids out on fancy excursions, as opposed to simply <em>being family</em>.</strong> As for me, I'm (thankfully) never tempted towards the former because I would never want to <em>be</em> a Fun Activities Director. But for too many, that is the ideal, the sign of a Really Good Mom. I on the other hand find that most of my own efforts go into just <em>engaging</em>. Making conversation. Being available. That's why I drag myself into my daughters' room upon request most nights, tired or not, good mood or not. It's admittedly something small and who knows, maybe they won't even remember these conversations as adults. That's okay. It's still a good thing.</div>
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<br clear="none" />As parents we must regularly ask ourselves if we are allowing ample margin in our lives for these unscripted moments, free from curriculum or programming or activity written by somebody else, and full of space for questions and laughter and love. It doesn't have to be hard--I'm more than convinced that this can happen anywhere from the car to the dining room table to a child's bedroom decorated with hearts. And while I used to occasionally wish I <em>were</em> better at planning fun activities for my children, I'm realizing as they grow that the simple life we lead, organized around the rhythms of home and family and church and loved ones, lacks for nothing in the margin department. And not only that, but there is a raw and natural beauty in this emphasis on relationship and charity: <strong>it thrives and flourishes in the quiet, unassuming routines of daily life.</strong> </div>
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/110/B3470AEEC7912900A9A91A86ED1A884D.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a>Brianna Heldthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224838737334231065noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14252293.post-88045341837685559862013-04-24T08:58:00.000-06:002013-04-24T08:58:37.444-06:00The news<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We were out late Saturday night at the Endow Gala, up early Sunday morning for Mass, and so Sunday afternoon I attempted to take a good, old-fashioned nap with Alice. Unfortunately, two of my other supposed-to-be-napping children were <em>not</em> sleeping, and making noise instead, and after being awoken for the <em>millioneth</em> time I turned on the TV for some white noise to drown out the sweet but ill-timed giggling. We don't have cable or satellite or anything, just an antennae, and a Colorado news program was on.<br />
<br />
Now I never, ever watch TV, and that includes the news. I check headlines online each day or so just in case there's a zombie apocalypse that I should know about, but that's it. And anytime I do happen to catch a glimpse of television news I'm reminded precisely <em>why</em> I don't watch. <br />
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<strong>People, the news is </strong><em><strong>sad!</strong> </em>Shootings, stabbings, avalanches, and bombings were all covered during the ten minutes or so of coverage I saw on Sunday. When the newscaster was done discussing them, he just started over and talked some <em>more</em> about them. No wonder people are so depressed and afraid and stressed out of their minds. They're watching the news!<br />
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It is for some reason natural to be drawn in and to internalize what we hear and see and read, as if it were all happening to us or near us--when the truth is that few of us are even remotely affected by the vast majority of headlines. Occasionally I even have to consciously disengage from a particular story, if it is particularly disturbing or frightening, reminding myself that my own corner of the world is primarily happy. <br />
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<strong>On the other hand though, I don't want to stick my head in the sand and pretend the world is not evil or that people are not suffering.</strong> Because it is, and they are. The first time I really had to come to grips with this sort of disparity was after our first trip to Africa, to adopt our sons. It was eye-opening, I was incredibly naïve, and we did see some legitimately distressing things. Returning home to our comfortable house and life of relative ease (I say "relative" because we went from one to three children, all aged two and under, and it was hard!) felt <em>wrong</em> somehow--as I look back now I realize that I was ultimately struggling with the ideas of suffering, affluence, poverty, and justice. I'd never lacked for anything in my life, and now suddenly I felt a little guilty about it because clearly that was not the case for much of the rest of the world. How might I integrate what I'd seen and how I lived with the faith I professed? A faith that decidedly ought to care about the poor?<br />
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My life was filled with happy and mundane things and I didn't know how to think about that. So I read a lot of books, hoping to find a framework for suffering with which to understand why some are rich and some are poor, and what we rich folks in the West are supposed to be doing (especially when we have a passel of kids preventing us from taking off to run an orphanage in a developing country). For the first time I found myself drawn to the likes of progressive Evangelicals like Brian McLaren, Rob Bell, and Jim Wallis. They talked a lot about the poor and about social justice. I thought they made some good points. But they also lacked answers, I had misgivings, and could (mercifully) never fully settle there. Thankfully I also discovered Thomas Howard around that time, and I'd never stopped reading CS Lewis, and finally I stumbled upon the fresh air that is Blessed John Paul II's <em><a href="http://www.vatican.va/holy_father/john_paul_ii/apost_letters/documents/hf_jp-ii_apl_15081988_mulieris-dignitatem_en.html">Mulieris Dignitatem</a></em>. (So <em>that</em> is what womanhood and vocation and life are about.) I read Blessed Teresa of Calcutta's <u>Come Be My Light</u>. Powerful stuff. Stuff that was <em>true</em>. Stuff that contributed to our journey into the Catholic Church a year and a half ago.<br />
<br />
See Catholics, it turns out, are not the least bit uncomfortable with the concept of suffering. Who knew? While Protestants attempt to work it out from varying perspectives (everyone from John Piper to Pat Robertson to Shane Claiborne has an opinion on the meaning and origin of suffering), Catholics continue believing the stuff they've always believed, essentially what the apostles and Church have always taught. <strong> Suffering is mysterious. Suffering is the result of sin. Suffering is an opportunity for growth and change. Suffering can be offered up in union with Christ's suffering. Suffering is a chance to be united with Christ, period. Suffering is not authored by God, though He allows it. Suffering can be a special cross that can bring someone closer to Jesus.</strong> <br />
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And Catholics have been ministering to the suffering since the Church's inception. They have been caring for the poor and the marginalized in practical and spiritual ways. At the same time, the Church teaches that if you marry and have children, <em>that</em> is the primary thing you will be doing for God. That's your vocation. And this means that those called by God to celibacy will most likely be the primary ones physically relocating to serve the poor and dying around the world--rendering unnecessary that difficult tension of <em>"How can I serve God's kingdom when I'm just home with my kids all day?"</em> that I saw so often in Protestant circles. Women really, genuinely struggled with that, with what I believe is the diminishment of marriage and motherhood as vocation. Myself included.<br />
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Now though I <em>rejoice</em> and <em>rest</em> in the fact that my life <em>is</em> presently comprised of mostly happy things. I can pray for those suffering and give what I have, but I also now see suffering as being potentially redemptive, and it will not be everyone's cross at every point in time. So no need to wallow in survivor's guilt or be constantly checking over my shoulder to see if I'm doing "enough." I'm happy that I'm happy, for the blessings God has given me, <strong>and I'm also confident that when He does call on me to suffer, I will be given the graces to endure.</strong> <br />
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So how does all of that tie in with the news? I suppose because with the overabundance of real-time information available to us today, it is possible to become so caught up in what is happening somewhere else that our own peace and joy become eclipsed by some "national conversation" that is "needing" to happen. When in reality, our own present situation is either fairly rosy <em>or</em> is difficult in its own way (fellow mothers of small children, I'm talking to you), and in either case the last thing we probably need is to own a far-off burden that doesn't belong to us in the first place. I'm not saying it's bad to be informed (I like to be), and I'm not saying we shouldn't know what's going on in the world we inhabit (I do, and sometimes I even <a href="http://www.briannaheldt.com/2013/04/abortionist-on-trial.html">blog about it</a>). <strong>But we occasionally also need to be reminded that we are merely responsible for stewarding what is right in front of us, <em>today</em>.</strong> In our own respective spheres of influence. And more often than not, that will probably be quite enough.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/110/B3470AEEC7912900A9A91A86ED1A884D.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a>Brianna Heldthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224838737334231065noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14252293.post-29706121555312624392013-04-22T09:24:00.001-06:002013-04-22T09:24:26.077-06:00On motherhood and quitting<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdyrAVATblIJbZ8n1_NybtoRC88dhIpXqeXIXbxWWIUhrQzQHZHYglQmc7EHSVKKWCzsEeL_9P5yN_CMu7wqCFfBcxL0g89g3f55jDxkrNqaScY1pXkZdpF19pp8TShp8MqqYl/s1600/CAM01812.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdyrAVATblIJbZ8n1_NybtoRC88dhIpXqeXIXbxWWIUhrQzQHZHYglQmc7EHSVKKWCzsEeL_9P5yN_CMu7wqCFfBcxL0g89g3f55jDxkrNqaScY1pXkZdpF19pp8TShp8MqqYl/s400/CAM01812.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><em>My daughter Mekdes, meeting her newborn sister Alice for the very first time. Otherwise known as love at first sight.</em></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Last month we moved to a new house in a neighboring town, in order to get a couple of acres for the kids to run around on. Which has been great, but it also means we are now farther away from most everything we do. And so, due to this distance and the fact that I also now have a newborn who pretty much runs the show around here (because she's so darn cute), <strong>we made the decision to quit our kids' weekly homeschool enrichment program.</strong> <br />
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We wouldn't have returned next year anyhow, but for some reason it was really hard to walk away mid-semester. I knew rationally that an hour-plus drive (each way) was not remotely practical for us at this stage of our family's life, but I hated to miss out on the assorted activities my kids were working towards, and we've been part of this program since my oldest started kindergarten--roughly four years.<br />
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Thankfully though, common sense won out--deep down, I knew that if we attempted to continue, we would collectively be a complete and utter mess by the end of May. I would no doubt have gone insane. The kids would have been exhausted. My little ones would have had to forego naps and their usual routine. So we quit, and it was hard. And I know precisely <em>why</em> it was hard: it involved choosing <em>one good thing</em> over <em>another good thing</em>, and that is one of the <em>hardest</em> things for me to do, period. I hate making decisions! I don't like the idea of opportunity cost! <em>I want to do it all!</em><br />
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And yet, I <em>can't</em> do it all. I really can't. <strong>And as a mom-to-many, I have to balance what is good for our family <em>as a whole</em>, with what is good for <em>each individual member</em>.</strong> There happen to be a lot of us, so that can be difficult. It has meant, among other things, not enrolling my kids in many organized sports, foregoing certain activities, skipping the occasional event, and in this case, unenrolling them from a weekly enrichment program eight weeks before the end of the year.<br />
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<strong>I'm thinking that this delicate balancing act--that will eventually require some amount of sacrifice from each and every family member--is part of what makes the large family seem less than desirable in our modern era</strong>. Parents want their kids to have limit<em>less</em> opportunities, and the give and take required when there are multiple children is inherently <em>limiting</em>. My kids admittedly are not on the fast track to becoming Olympians or musical prodigies. They're just kids with holes in their jeans, who spend hours outside each day riding bikes and scooters together, who love taking pictures of the deer in our yard, and who fight over who gets to hold their newborn sister. They're kids who share bedrooms, and regardless what they might tell you about wanting their <em>own</em> room, they speak and giggle together in hushed tones before drifting off to sleep each night. They like going to Mass and to their grandma and grandpa's house. They like to sip strawberry lemonade, prepared by my oldest, while lounging around in our little gazebo--if the day is particularly warm, they do it while wearing bathing suits. Even though there's no pool in sight. <em>That's a good day for them.</em><br />
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They are, well, pretty much average, run-of-the-mill kids doing average, run-of-the-mill things.<br />
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And not only that but they, and I and my husband, make<em> other</em> sacrifices to live as a family of ten. We walk a little slower in the parking lot to accommodate my two daughters with Down syndrome, and we all do chores around the house. We stay home a lot, especially now, because our littlest family member wakes her mama a few times each night, leaving that mama more than a little tired. And I don't know how my children will remember their respective childhoods once they grow up, or how they'll look back on their responsibilities and the fact that their family's lifestyle was different from that of the mainstream culture's. I really don't. <br />
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But I know that there <em>will</em> be some memories of laughter, joy, empathy, fun, creativity, and community that we all share, living life under the same roof together. I know that my children are close friends and that they love Jesus, and that they get a lot of practice serving one another, just like Jesus talked about. I know that we gain a whole lot more than we sacrifice, and that sometimes we gain things we wouldn't have had we not made the sacrifice--opportunity cost works the other way too. And I've learned that oftentimes, what is best for the collective family really <em>is</em> what's best for individuals, even if it doesn't feel that way to everyone at the time. And instead of feeling like a failure of a mom when we have to cancel this or that, or choose one thing over another, or--heaven forbid--<em>disappoint a child</em>, we must instead choose to remember the big picture.<br />
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<strong>Because the big picture doesn't leave much room for feeling guilty when we make a decision for the good of our family, or for the good of ourselves.</strong> On the contrary, it keeps us balanced and forward-facing, more concerned with long-term charity and virtue and character than whether an exhausting day resulted in macaroni and cheese or frozen corndogs for dinner. And it allows for flexibility, for that give-and-take where sometimes you just plain have to give up on an activity you like.<br />
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And I really, truly believe that in the long run, my kids are learning about compromise, self-giving, priorities, core values, and ultimately love. Because it's love that shows patience towards a sibling who struggles to walk, and it's love that never begrudges a newborn sibling a mother's time and attention. And all of that is part of the big picture goal, of nurturing and loving the little souls who grace my home. <strong>Mercifully, that picture is not dependent on ballet class or violin lessons or anything I've pinned on Pinterest.</strong><br />
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Sometimes we moms can learn just as much from quitting as we can from pressing on.<br />
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<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/110/B3470AEEC7912900A9A91A86ED1A884D.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a>Brianna Heldthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224838737334231065noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14252293.post-72959191524359808012013-04-11T12:53:00.000-06:002013-04-11T12:53:20.376-06:00Abortionist on trial<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWEKh-RNJbniV8AsYVR3Xe1HCHeFNmbFpX9gTuySJi9w22k6QD2CPSk7cSCj8CyFASmo57zmOFyCcFmVoe-AnEFKy_ecHdbKYAMefb5U_1ZdxYhPc25HW_So0lTqpfVwAU9v2d/s1600/Holy%2520Innocents%2520New%252001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWEKh-RNJbniV8AsYVR3Xe1HCHeFNmbFpX9gTuySJi9w22k6QD2CPSk7cSCj8CyFASmo57zmOFyCcFmVoe-AnEFKy_ecHdbKYAMefb5U_1ZdxYhPc25HW_So0lTqpfVwAU9v2d/s400/Holy%2520Innocents%2520New%252001.jpg" width="293" /></a></div>
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Have you been following the <a href="http://www.usatoday.com/story/opinion/2013/04/10/philadelphia-abortion-clinic-horror-column/2072577/">Kermit Gosnell trial</a> at all?<br />
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The details coming out are, in a word, horrific. How can someone do such things to small children? What leads a person to forfeit reason and human decency to such a degree that they engage in these acts? On a regular basis, no less? I suppose these are the same questions we always ask in the face of senseless violence, and I suspect the answers are roughly the same too.<br />
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It's interesting because while the doctor himself exhibits particularly disturbing (and psychopathic) behavior, the only real difference (as far as abortion goes) between him at his nightmarish clinic, and the abortionist at Planned Parenthood, is a mere technicality. Because life is life. Abortion is abortion. <strong>Earthly justice is only being pursued on behalf of vulnerable children in <em>this </em>instance because Gosnell has broken some arbitrarily-decided-upon rules</strong>--had he succeeded in killing the babies <em>before</em> they exited the womb, that would somehow have been okay. It makes little sense to those of us who hold firmly to the belief that life begins at the moment of conception.<br />
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And that is part of why this trial is so very important, and why we must not ignore it--especially in the face of predictably-limited <a href="http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.usatoday.com%2Fstory%2Fopinion%2F2013%2F04%2F10%2Fphiladelphia-abortion-clinic-horror-column%2F2072577%2F&h=EAQF_zO-CAQHJmxwIPR-JK7t7lE3gkfxTfiBduoIEp7YtHw&enc=AZPmv8gTUPnj10ib5Rt7F3nD4BZKLx1Wq28Ez7d0SqszwkyQTz-T9uvrybvcq5vS3i7PQeu1Ses0jOWu_AVaUwNS&s=1">media coverage</a>. <strong>These heinous acts are, ultimately, being exposed for what they are.</strong> And I hope that this spectacle, in addition to shutting his horrible clinic down, makes people think--<em>really think--</em>about what makes <em>this</em> fellow so very different from his legally-practicing and lauded-by-society colleagues.<br />
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Yesterday I happened to see a photo of one of the babies from his clinic. It showed the back of the deceased baby's head and neck, where there was a large hole. And while I've seen images of aborted babies before (most of them much gorier than this one), the horror of it all really struck me for some reason. I wanted to cry and I wanted to scream. I wanted to pretend it wasn't real, that it wasn't an actual photo of an actual newborn with a hole in his or her neck. Maybe it's because my one-month-old daughter Alice has a little birthmark <em>in</em> <em>that</em> <em>very spot</em> that I love to look at and touch. Maybe it's because it seemed such a cold and calculated way to kill a child. <strong>Whatever the reason, I'm pretty sure I got some sort of glimpse of Hell when I saw that photograph.</strong><br />
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Satan may of course use willing people to destroy the beautiful <em>bodies</em> of these children, but he cannot destroy their souls. As for the people party to these killings, that is (sadly) another story. <em>Adult</em> lives are being torn apart, dignity sacrificed, humanity eclipsed, souls crushed. <strong>People are being deceived.</strong> And dragged off into the darkness to a place where, in Gosnell's case, he eventually found himself keeping small feet in jars as "trophies" of his victims. And that sounds shocking to us--and it should--but we must also keep in mind that when someone is in the business of abortion, it becomes (to some degree) natural for them to think in rather morbid terms about it all. He has become devoid of much of what makes us <em>human</em>. <br />
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<strong>So really, Kermit Gosnell may actually be luckier than most in his profession--his actions are on trial and being exposed for what they are.</strong> No <a href="http://www.lifenews.com/2012/09/20/president-of-united-airlines-hosting-gala-for-planned-parenthood/">airline CEOs</a> are fundraising for him and no feminists are calling him a champion of women's issues. No presidents are heralding him a hero of reproductive rights. And maybe, just maybe, this will save his soul. We must pray to that end, that not only will earthly justice be served, but that God will have mercy upon this man, that he will see the light and be freed from the dark and evil lifestyle that has slowly twisted him into a monster. <br />
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May God bless and keep each of this man's tiny victims.<br />
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May God bless and keep each of their respective mothers and fathers.<br />
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Blessed Mother Mary and Holy Innoncents, pray for us.<br />
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<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/110/B3470AEEC7912900A9A91A86ED1A884D.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a>Brianna Heldthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224838737334231065noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14252293.post-55486358693916925432013-04-09T12:14:00.000-06:002013-04-09T12:15:23.288-06:00Filled with wonder<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1a2f1EZxsq4CIa0bcYgfdr-6mPDI9taBhHnHV2J-jWWVXzBz8zAfQ7YgGlg1DMdIYDRi1nzc7NZHgcTrLxV-WS7SL2mmjOuKpj6GXSFfMZoKD5CYJ6ZIVCnhJP1BrUodGSp1r/s1600/alicepacifier.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1a2f1EZxsq4CIa0bcYgfdr-6mPDI9taBhHnHV2J-jWWVXzBz8zAfQ7YgGlg1DMdIYDRi1nzc7NZHgcTrLxV-WS7SL2mmjOuKpj6GXSFfMZoKD5CYJ6ZIVCnhJP1BrUodGSp1r/s400/alicepacifier.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br />
Could it be? Am I actually posting something here? :)<br />
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Between the many around-the-clock feedings and diaper changes that accompany a newborn, I have not devoted much time to writing lately beyond the two publications I contribute to each month. You can read my articles <a href="http://www.ignitumtoday.com/2013/03/20/alice-is-here/?utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=facebook">here</a> and <a href="http://catholicstand.com/protection-from-victorias-secret/">here</a>.<br />
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I may or may not also be devoting a bunch of my time each day to simply gazing in awe upon the miraculous little creature known as Alice Therese. Pictured above.<br />
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<strong>Because friends, I am in love.</strong> With a little 9-ish pound person. And I just plain don't want to miss a moment of this little girl's tiny life. Every single stretch, snuffle, and baby-sneeze fills me with such incredible joy that it makes the general fatigue and compulsion to wear loose, ill-fitting sweatpants well worth it. <br />
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It is profoundly amazing having a baby in the house again.<br />
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It is of course also difficult. I regularly joke about how I feel as if I've fallen into an abyss since giving birth a month ago. You see, we moved to a new house mere days after Alice was born, and quite frankly, I'm still trying to get my bearings--which apparently amounts to wearing comfy clothing, clutching my baby girl, and spending time on Facebook. <br />
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Oh, and I eat a Cadbury Creme Egg every day. That is a must.<br />
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<strong>The post-partum period is, for me, a strange mix of crazy, beautiful, messy, and happy.</strong> Because I'm simultaneously exulting in the birth of my child...while attempting to figure out this breastfeeding thing all over again...all while being woken multiple times each night by this hungry and helpless little being who needs me even more than I need my own sleep. I need <em>her </em>more than I need my own sleep. But, I still need sleep. And so there is this funny paradox where I occasionally feel overwhelmed (and generally feel tired!), but still gush to everyone about how happy I am. Because I <em>am</em> happy--I'm also just sleep-deprived and on hormone-overload. And I'm in love.<br />
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So while I haven't had the proper quorum of active brain cells to do much writing, I <em>have</em> been reflecting a little on this whole being-a-mom thing. Just yesterday I was reading through Blessed John Paul II's <em><a href="http://www.vatican.va/holy_father/john_paul_ii/apost_letters/documents/hf_jp-ii_apl_15081988_mulieris-dignitatem_en.html">Mulieris Dignitatem</a></em>, where he writes this:<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<strong>Motherhood involves a special communion with the mystery of life, as it develops in the woman's womb. The mother is filled with wonder at this mystery of life, and "understands" with unique intuition what is happening inside her. In the light of the "beginning", the mother accepts and loves as a person the child she is carrying in her womb. This unique contact with the new human being developing within her gives rise to an attitude towards human beings - not only towards her own child, but every human being - which profoundly marks the woman's personality.</strong></blockquote>
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Yes. This. "Filled with wonder at the mystery of life", for sure. With each child I've been given I've experienced a deeper understanding of God, love, my vocation, and the purpose of community--while simultaneously being extra mystified by the bigness of it all. And since reading this passage yesterday, I've really been considering how my motherhood impacts my "personality", the people around me and the culture at large. We moms-to-many occasionally muse that we'd think ourselves pretty great people if we didn't have any children--less temptation to say and do things in anger, less stress, less occasion for sin. But at the same time, we also know that is not always the answer, intentionally avoiding The Things That Are Hard. Because deep-down we believe that the humbling and refining that accompanies motherhood is <em>good</em> for us. <br />
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On a very practical level it forces our hand, limits our selfishness, makes us grow. <br />
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<strong>But ultimately we have faith that the bearing of children matures marital love, strengthens family bonds, and instructs our other children in virtue. It is a </strong><em><strong>good.</strong> </em><br />
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How amazing then to consider that through motherhood (be it physical motherhood or spiritual motherhood, depending on vocation), God uses women to nurture and enhance our communities. That the way we come to love our children is somehow meant to translate into how we love our friends and our neighbors. That we are able to take part in this mysterious process of growing (and generating) humanity.<br />
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It's all just so <em>huge</em>. I keep thinking about how unbelievably beautiful it is that my baby girl, body and soul, <em>exists--</em> when there was a time that she <em>didn't</em> exist. I think about how, in the words of Eve herself, "with the Lord's help I have brought forth a child." I think about how she not only <em>is</em> a new life, but infuses our very <em>marriage and family</em> with new life. <strong>I think about how my body was created with this unique ability to bring forth and nurture this life, that somehow as a woman I am a part of something very precious and even, dare I say, powerful.</strong> Blessed John Paul II, referring to woman elsewhere in the encyclical, declares that "she is sharing in the great mystery of eternal generation. The spouses share in the creative power of God!"<br />
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My personal feeling is that the early days and weeks after the birth of a baby are uniquely and indescribably beautiful, even when they are hard. So I am soaking up these new moments with my new Alice, reminded by the presence of my nine-year-old daughter that these days pass all too quickly. Life is meant to be <em>lived</em>, not merely endured, and so even when I am stretched and challenged I am filled with joy. My children and husband are filled with joy. Our very <em>home</em> is filled with joy, all by itty-bitty Alice Therese. <br />
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So post-partum sleepiness or not, I am ever so grateful for these days filled with nursing and spit-up and diapers and sweatpants, and for Cadbury Crème Eggs too.<br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/110/B3470AEEC7912900A9A91A86ED1A884D.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a>Brianna Heldthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224838737334231065noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14252293.post-25353013893958656552013-04-01T16:55:00.000-06:002013-05-14T16:56:03.350-06:00Test<a blog="" claim="9nw7p5a2djs"" href="http://www.blogger.com/%3Ca%20href=" http:="" www.bloglovin.com="">Follow">http://www.bloglovin.com/blog/5054055/?claim=9nw7p5a2djs">Follow</a> my blog with BloglovinBrianna Heldthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224838737334231065noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14252293.post-73955130389409325952013-03-20T13:36:00.002-06:002013-03-20T13:36:31.754-06:00Elsewhere on the webHi friends! <strong>I'm over at Ignitum Today talking about my new baby girl</strong>, and about our decision to have our four oldest children present for labor and delivery. Come join me!<br />
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<a href="http://www.ignitumtoday.com/2013/03/20/alice-is-here/">Alice is here</a><br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/110/B3470AEEC7912900A9A91A86ED1A884D.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a>Brianna Heldthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224838737334231065noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14252293.post-6270351186612465912013-03-14T21:52:00.002-06:002013-03-14T21:59:42.371-06:00Checking inSo, I had a baby.<br />
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And I moved.<br />
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And I helped prep my other house to rent.<br />
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And I have, therefore, taken a bit of a blogging hiatus.<br />
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Just a word to the wise: I don't recommend doing all of these things within the span of a week, like I did. Yes I've lived to tell the tale, but I'd also be lying if I told you there weren't any meltdowns or woe-is-me-I-just-want-to-sleep moments. And just wait until you hear about my Sunday morning trying-to-get-to-Mass mishap. Which you will, once I get into some sort of routine around here.<br />
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Meanwhile though , and in spite of the unpacked boxes and disorder that comes with moving eight kids' and two adults' worth of earthly possessions across town, I'm soaking up these early days with my beautiful eight-day-old baby girl. Who is nothing short of a miracle, as all babies are. It amazes me more with each subsequent child what profound gifts motherhood and new life truly are.<br />
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So all of this to say that I'm still here, we're doing pretty well (sleep deprivation and mishaps considered), and we are head-over-heels in love with our sweet baby girl. Birth story and official "I had a baby!" blogpost forthcoming, of course. <br />
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For now I'll just say that life doesn't get much better than, well, this.<br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/110/B3470AEEC7912900A9A91A86ED1A884D.png" style="background: transparent; border: 0 !important;" /></a>Brianna Heldthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224838737334231065noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14252293.post-2738618089085238452013-02-26T15:47:00.000-07:002013-02-26T17:19:25.119-07:00Denver house tour: before and afterRemember how I told you we're in the process of buying a <a href="http://www.briannaheldt.com/2013/02/spontaneous-and-pregnant.html">new home</a> on a couple of acres outside of the city? And how we're turning our present Denver bungalow into a rental? <strong>Well, we successfully found a renter (on our first day of showings!) and are closing on our new home this Friday afternoon.</strong> (Baby Girl is due this <em>Thursday</em>, just in case anyone is keeping track of my anxiety/insanity levels.)<br />
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We've lived in our Denver house for nearly five years now. It has required a fair amount of work (tearing out an entire subfloor, putting in new carpet and new hardwoods, painting, tons of small repairs etc.), which has actually been kind of fun. Other than laying the flooring, we've done everything ourselves--<strong>and by ourselves, I mostly mean my husband.</strong> Maybe that's why I think it's been fun.<br />
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In all seriousness, it is highly fulfilling to take something that's been neglected or just desperately needs an update, and make it better. The house itself is really pretty great--5 bedrooms in a fun and popular neighborhood where that is hard to find. Lots of natural light. Lots of character. I love my home. <br />
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And I've been quite amazed by how much you can improve something with some simple paint or new light fixtures. No need to drop lots of money to make a good change. I don't have a crafty or aesthetically-creative bone in my body, but I have to say I'm really pleased with what we've done. It's not fancy or magazine-worthy , but it's home.<br />
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So I thought I'd share some before and after shots. Nothing too exciting, but who doesn't like peeking into other peoples' homes? <br />
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Most of the before pictures (all except for the ones where parts of the house are torn up) are from before we owned the house.<br />
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<strong>Living room before:</strong><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzmd1y5vF9NQOMGRBrb_SNANMtHotl6lthplDhIk0FlRqpK0kY2cg5IHiT9JxdE1ftYQP0EpKQix55oOHAezzYU2d0xoPvVPUSyZrfOOgy13UOEVpeRtlQB0gGv_qrsFsZIYXM/s1600/DSCF5466.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzmd1y5vF9NQOMGRBrb_SNANMtHotl6lthplDhIk0FlRqpK0kY2cg5IHiT9JxdE1ftYQP0EpKQix55oOHAezzYU2d0xoPvVPUSyZrfOOgy13UOEVpeRtlQB0gGv_qrsFsZIYXM/s400/DSCF5466.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<strong>Living room after:</strong></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtGnUnjNyk-0xyIASvtJyjMg6GSQmoaffbAPV-zRMdnuLtwTA0hLS50TdR4w23XgrlDeqJIr4EWX067bJu_5S6ZRJ37LB04tPpNMmSl6v54BZsjHB0x-sgdWjCjYPpADnzu9QU/s1600/IS-oskfcy015y71.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtGnUnjNyk-0xyIASvtJyjMg6GSQmoaffbAPV-zRMdnuLtwTA0hLS50TdR4w23XgrlDeqJIr4EWX067bJu_5S6ZRJ37LB04tPpNMmSl6v54BZsjHB0x-sgdWjCjYPpADnzu9QU/s400/IS-oskfcy015y71.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<strong>Kitchen/dining area before:</strong></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPwj59W_i6G5-BXrKNebS1BcH8jaxIBkmtX9UfUkiyKsX6TML4sExj6AHatOw0YIttvARV1UlBIN4TLnnhlTI6VK_H1G5oBXw2xBDRDVACjWG6bdeGj1zMgJ1MCzUxSRb8-vMG/s1600/DSCF5470.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPwj59W_i6G5-BXrKNebS1BcH8jaxIBkmtX9UfUkiyKsX6TML4sExj6AHatOw0YIttvARV1UlBIN4TLnnhlTI6VK_H1G5oBXw2xBDRDVACjWG6bdeGj1zMgJ1MCzUxSRb8-vMG/s400/DSCF5470.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<strong>Kitchen/dining area after:</strong><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8_0OC_o0NyUl9WqCH_uveXAZwBVawkcixmP81e1M1aX2QzFLnA07NC7SXJGU5crhnFI0NR9HKS_T__-GSS6LuScfDOv9Q6BeH55fp6YxgQSnLB9o1fSnV6ui_TrK8brBL8RdI/s1600/IS-oskfnoq38pct.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8_0OC_o0NyUl9WqCH_uveXAZwBVawkcixmP81e1M1aX2QzFLnA07NC7SXJGU5crhnFI0NR9HKS_T__-GSS6LuScfDOv9Q6BeH55fp6YxgQSnLB9o1fSnV6ui_TrK8brBL8RdI/s400/IS-oskfnoq38pct.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<strong>Master bedroom before:</strong><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirFVB2zgNe6vl3jpfkMC5U6-CyyzW35AWU122IMkW859TvvB80eC7XvzgMJ5BhbBbT45DkxX-Ou8tiXhIwLPioOakHi9Cv7iIB3Vf73Lu9lKnrXWlGvplfJ8ehmIAihhnonEld/s1600/DSCF5475.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirFVB2zgNe6vl3jpfkMC5U6-CyyzW35AWU122IMkW859TvvB80eC7XvzgMJ5BhbBbT45DkxX-Ou8tiXhIwLPioOakHi9Cv7iIB3Vf73Lu9lKnrXWlGvplfJ8ehmIAihhnonEld/s400/DSCF5475.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<strong>Master bedroom after:</strong><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjMARBvaVTvQPDLCiE_0CQdb2Fnm6aXTRGXGIB8UIM74fUjST7L3L3TAop7TfKiEV2b0o0bmCDpwbNJ80Gu4imvoKLrGvWeL7z2215p2qUZfbINx6I0CdFYJcCNh3oYtHA8but/s1600/IS-19a4kh375dxst.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjMARBvaVTvQPDLCiE_0CQdb2Fnm6aXTRGXGIB8UIM74fUjST7L3L3TAop7TfKiEV2b0o0bmCDpwbNJ80Gu4imvoKLrGvWeL7z2215p2qUZfbINx6I0CdFYJcCNh3oYtHA8but/s400/IS-19a4kh375dxst.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<strong>Main-floor bathroom:</strong></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJUa_-P_oczodE9JKYkeVaV7t8cLZIMNNHk9a0SE5o9k6PpOZZTKP_2DmLktFV62jOzVQis2ulF2UhzyTQ87KP6ZvqU9gTYtbzm-AKYHcMk1lCsOU9e8SxGLZa4QEKBWzDu8xf/s1600/IS-19a4kusgvjnml.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJUa_-P_oczodE9JKYkeVaV7t8cLZIMNNHk9a0SE5o9k6PpOZZTKP_2DmLktFV62jOzVQis2ulF2UhzyTQ87KP6ZvqU9gTYtbzm-AKYHcMk1lCsOU9e8SxGLZa4QEKBWzDu8xf/s400/IS-19a4kusgvjnml.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<strong>Schoolroom before:</strong></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCo_Dwcxwhq_atfgPrdnxHQmD6w0v93TU_Zu3atxbC8Fo1cwBPwW_NgHsoN9vZ_7hCZgiIjxHVY4E9-bckjuRCgaMqJgNsitolgb4n8WyiKDz7DdHfcRcymhoTNkzvsT8Pm7Y6/s1600/b5_DSCF5819.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCo_Dwcxwhq_atfgPrdnxHQmD6w0v93TU_Zu3atxbC8Fo1cwBPwW_NgHsoN9vZ_7hCZgiIjxHVY4E9-bckjuRCgaMqJgNsitolgb4n8WyiKDz7DdHfcRcymhoTNkzvsT8Pm7Y6/s400/b5_DSCF5819.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<strong>Schoolroom after:</strong></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinK7euWh3f0SEwkfEKhqlVIcbh33WiQjCUqXjWQbTtWtC0YdowZKzi1lXovZ8Gk9VMXwFWOq0ieP14QCcBQ-EE8dPou8v3l3FSc-Pzmy2n6XAjzcI5-Cy-u46oN52vsMaGpd8P/s1600/b6_IS-19a4jpkpmue71.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinK7euWh3f0SEwkfEKhqlVIcbh33WiQjCUqXjWQbTtWtC0YdowZKzi1lXovZ8Gk9VMXwFWOq0ieP14QCcBQ-EE8dPou8v3l3FSc-Pzmy2n6XAjzcI5-Cy-u46oN52vsMaGpd8P/s400/b6_IS-19a4jpkpmue71.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<strong>Kids' bathroom before:</strong></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX19qJ20bKzNzoXiIPSJVaJojsO5doPD8uALPKjOD6yxauvDnf-w6LhLssphTbgCRAQWVDsTohGCvnY_JL1GmUZLSPKUDjxZONzTBvk8BsKLsTN9lPPvKOktLxI3ATQffP8BBt/s1600/d0_picture1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX19qJ20bKzNzoXiIPSJVaJojsO5doPD8uALPKjOD6yxauvDnf-w6LhLssphTbgCRAQWVDsTohGCvnY_JL1GmUZLSPKUDjxZONzTBvk8BsKLsTN9lPPvKOktLxI3ATQffP8BBt/s400/d0_picture1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<strong>Kids' bathroom after:</strong></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0EsuTrKYgfYA29KnV85JcScypzapCLPOt55uZ6lfuY9r676oX41axueZK_BjwW60ZWMPiZ2WYLL-A_9eIJP_bHQq1RAql0Exah1bl92My3CNqeJuX5c0nTGUJKpMCYzeU3pfN/s1600/c3_DSCF5926.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0EsuTrKYgfYA29KnV85JcScypzapCLPOt55uZ6lfuY9r676oX41axueZK_BjwW60ZWMPiZ2WYLL-A_9eIJP_bHQq1RAql0Exah1bl92My3CNqeJuX5c0nTGUJKpMCYzeU3pfN/s400/c3_DSCF5926.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZg5alihIY8pESJpweRgu6SsptsN4rCu2d0Z8MUoNxo4Lmyo6MzDwtVD6AQM5azrDZeZHvTYLhJT-LnVL4MJWorgB_0IIL4aT9i772N3Jxa2C9VYabv8ENT02CjfDmKBeK-GzD/s1600/c5_IS-19a4jv9wuk3ml.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZg5alihIY8pESJpweRgu6SsptsN4rCu2d0Z8MUoNxo4Lmyo6MzDwtVD6AQM5azrDZeZHvTYLhJT-LnVL4MJWorgB_0IIL4aT9i772N3Jxa2C9VYabv8ENT02CjfDmKBeK-GzD/s400/c5_IS-19a4jv9wuk3ml.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<strong>My big-girls' bedroom:</strong></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAJPcLDz6ZaRWOYsEr4QtRrztEjsnPOFCSgGhaHpPGWRwVb1AlPkKZI2iZsIwKEfpPjot4iDiiYTQ-FAtPjLCjhG3xNpStRb6YEKLM44HzRTM7q7PO_QPVLSM1Wf7LdREgE-MK/s1600/IS-oskgn7a489ct.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAJPcLDz6ZaRWOYsEr4QtRrztEjsnPOFCSgGhaHpPGWRwVb1AlPkKZI2iZsIwKEfpPjot4iDiiYTQ-FAtPjLCjhG3xNpStRb6YEKLM44HzRTM7q7PO_QPVLSM1Wf7LdREgE-MK/s400/IS-oskgn7a489ct.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<strong>My boys' bedroom:</strong></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDquNbnj_JuUWPIrOULgNNQvpJj-nL4cLhV8FlKZs3u6Zz55Kk0-qubscE1RtUBuoi7cvZ6o0AzjKGrtZYPnncoxquAdxWROxAqtc2m7ThcPimMxj_qiKdTgJRG_8DYJftTzAX/s1600/IS-oskgitfn7vbx.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDquNbnj_JuUWPIrOULgNNQvpJj-nL4cLhV8FlKZs3u6Zz55Kk0-qubscE1RtUBuoi7cvZ6o0AzjKGrtZYPnncoxquAdxWROxAqtc2m7ThcPimMxj_qiKdTgJRG_8DYJftTzAX/s400/IS-oskgitfn7vbx.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<strong>My little girls' bedroom:</strong></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY2FjgtAp6SvUEJx4q9xw3VDWULAqe-MLxQUUIciRXeMfpHGnv_j00INHrwrDKSbH9iOJOr0LdDgZyXPZapMXEfjqe_xD8Y0L-4V476ttC8f6CjbdOyJNOyLiLMkVWG2bX9-PI/s1600/IS-oskgkwethye5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY2FjgtAp6SvUEJx4q9xw3VDWULAqe-MLxQUUIciRXeMfpHGnv_j00INHrwrDKSbH9iOJOr0LdDgZyXPZapMXEfjqe_xD8Y0L-4V476ttC8f6CjbdOyJNOyLiLMkVWG2bX9-PI/s400/IS-oskgkwethye5.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<strong>Our guest bedroom:</strong></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXSb-Xdo_552BIhywYysiOTO9FjxsAxr09qSCWXor8gCbys4i3FCMdpUftOlR3swEMO_1wn43awp3BFcaFwp5K_NMa9M4bKLGljkHEEv6UrVTsKdjpR9VEYWsbT7Cxzo1TLncR/s1600/IS-oskg6z8yw0nx.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXSb-Xdo_552BIhywYysiOTO9FjxsAxr09qSCWXor8gCbys4i3FCMdpUftOlR3swEMO_1wn43awp3BFcaFwp5K_NMa9M4bKLGljkHEEv6UrVTsKdjpR9VEYWsbT7Cxzo1TLncR/s400/IS-oskg6z8yw0nx.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Most of my furniture is either thrifted, from Craigslist, or IKEA. (Remember, I'm not fancy.) Some of it is old and repainted (like the bright yellow dresser in the living room and the two white nightstands in my bedroom, all of which used to be fakey-pine, and the aqua piano in the schoolroom that was originally dark brown.) One of my favorite finds has been our dining room chandelier--$12 from my neighborhood thrift store + some spraypaint!</div>
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I admit I'm already excited to get into our new place and start making some changes. The home itself is pretty much turn-key, so we can focus our attention on fun stuff like painting the kitchen cabinets and islands and putting in new drawer pulls and knobs. I already have lots of ideas (loving Pinterest these days!), and while I'm no decorater, I've discovered that making my home <em>the way I want it</em> actually has a <em>huge</em> effect on my day and general outlook. Which may not seem like a huge revelation, but it actually kind of has been for me. It'll be nice too because some things here I never did finish (little girls' room, basement main-part, etc.) because we decided to move, and I'm looking forward to finally getting to do what I want. On a budget. Because I'm cheap like that.<br />
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<strong>So there you have it. Our home for the past five years. I'm going to miss it!</strong><br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/110/B3470AEEC7912900A9A91A86ED1A884D.png" style="border: 0px currentColor !important;" /></a>Brianna Heldthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224838737334231065noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14252293.post-22094731091363835572013-02-19T08:00:00.000-07:002013-02-19T08:00:05.341-07:00Five secrets to survival mode<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEDPUo8Qb5qvGWS29LdA6RmPhEr3v4JaJ8s07Ch7aTynuGLbE_KeFa07XWK7Udi09sacuQa5m_qnLp012sH7Swh63ao6TSh0fsmnsoSv4alWUkVFyNUeqFhAuw9DkRtsXR5Ju9/s1600/Sick-50s-housewife-in-bed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEDPUo8Qb5qvGWS29LdA6RmPhEr3v4JaJ8s07Ch7aTynuGLbE_KeFa07XWK7Udi09sacuQa5m_qnLp012sH7Swh63ao6TSh0fsmnsoSv4alWUkVFyNUeqFhAuw9DkRtsXR5Ju9/s400/Sick-50s-housewife-in-bed.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<strong>For the past two weeks now I've been battling a horrible cold.</strong> Think stuffy nose, nasty cough, sore throat, no energy, headaches, sleeplessness. Yuck! And add to that the fact that I'm now, you know, nearly <em>39 weeks pregnant</em>, and you can see it's not a pretty picture. (They say flus and colds are more severe in pregnancy, and I definitely concur with that!)<br />
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Meanwhile of course life goes on, and I am still responsible for taking care of all these kids because, as we all know, stay-at-home moms don't technically get sick days. <br />
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You would think that God would spare moms--especially moms-to-many--from life's little inconveniences like stomach viruses and influenza, but it turns out He doesn't, at least not this mom. I do get sick from time to time, and while I've actually had a really healthy past several months, this cold about did me in. Thankfully I'm mostly all better now but it's been rough!<br />
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<strong>One of the questions people have been asking me for years is how do I handle being sick with so many children?</strong> Truthfully, I don't always handle it very well--I find it incredibly stressful to have to check out of normal life for longer than a day or two, and then the guilt starts to creep in, and then I start to feel completely and utterly hopeless and sad and wonder how on earth I'm surviving my crazy life at<em> all</em>, and I begin to rethink our decision to homeschool and start making mental plans to enroll my kids in our neighborhood school, except then I'd have to do pickups and dropoffs while sick, so how would <em>that</em> work? <br />
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It is, um, an ugly downward-spiral. That generally involves tears at some point, and I never cry, so that is really saying something.<br />
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But thankfully I've learned some things over the years that have really helped, and sometimes I wonder if God allows illness--even run-of-the-mill silly things like colds--to illuminate what matters and what doesn't, and to show us that He is ultimately in control, and that the world is <em>not</em> actually all on our shoulders.<br />
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<strong>1.) Take care of yourself.</strong> This is key, and something I figured out pretty early on. You simply <em>cannot</em> raise children and keep a home and love your husband if you are not well physically, emotionally or spiritually. You may be able to do so for a time, but it's just not sustainable. So my children know that when I'm sick, I need to rest--which means that some of my normal tasks will fall by the wayside, some will be picked up by my husband, and some will be picked up by the kids themselves. Naptime will need to be especially quiet if I'm going to be sleeping myself, and one of the kids might make dinner two nights in a row, or my husband might bring home frozen pizzas to heat up for dinner. And, I refuse to feel bad about it. We all get sick from time to time, and my priority at that point becomes getting well.<br />
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<strong>2.) Avoid feeling guilty.</strong> I know, I know--we moms are somehow genetically engineered to feel guilty about pretty much everything. Why is that? I really have no idea, but I <em>do</em> know that it can be mighty tempting to feel bad when your husband comes home to a messy house, or to dirty dishes in the kitchen sink, or to kids with disheveled hair and sticky hands. Not that that <em>ever</em> happens around here. :) In all honesty I don't often think about how high my standards are until I get sick and stuff starts falling by the wayside, and I start apologizing all over myself. "I'm so sorry our bed's not made! I need to load this dishwasher right now! I'll be back to cooking soon!" And I have to say that when I start down this path, my husband usually laughs at me and orders me <strong>not</strong> to apologize, tells me things are totally fine and he doesn't care, and then sends me back to bed. (Though I generally refuse to go until I've loaded those dishes. I just can't handle dirty dishes on the counter.) It can be hard to fight the guilty feelings, but ladies, this is an area where we are WAY too hard on ourselves. And it doesn't do us any good to feel bad about what are, really, quite trivial things.<br />
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<strong>3.) Prioritize. </strong>As important as it is to rest and avoid the guilt trap, if there's something I <em>know</em> makes me feel better in general (I mentioned keeping up on dishes earlier), I'll put my efforts toward doing that. A clean, tidy house has become increasingly important to me as our family has grown. Before we had all these kids, I was kind of a slob. Now though I have all sorts of neurotic control issues around the house. SO, even when I'm feeling downright horrible, I do generally keep up on the dishes and also enforce my kids getting their assorted chores done--kitchen cleaned up after every meal, toys picked up before naps and before dinner, bedrooms tidied before bed. All of that goes a long way in keeping me sane while I'm sick.<br />
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<strong>4.) Share the load. </strong>Now this one applies to all-the-time, not just when I'm under the weather, but it becomes even more important when I'm not functioning at 100%. Would it surprise you if I told you I don't do much laundry (aside from mine, Kevin's and the littlest ones) beyond pouring the detergent into the machine? Or that I don't sweep up or wipe down the table after meals? My kids do those things. My kids have responsibilities around the house, like emptying the trash, cleaning the kitchen, loading, switching, unloading, folding, and putting away their own laundry, helping with the littlest ones, and of course keeping their bedrooms and toys tidied up. And, they're actually pretty good at it. Every family is different and there is no one-size-fits-all approach to these sorts of things, but I will tell you that I believe my kids are learning valuable, practical life skills while also contributing in positive and constructive ways to our family. The jobs are pretty much the same every day so they know what to expect, and when they get to work it really doesn't take very long. And oh, does this come in handy when I'm out of commission.<br />
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<strong>5.) Laugh.</strong> This is possibly the most important of all! It is so easy to get discouraged and frustrated and totally stressed out, but if I take the time to<em> just be</em>, and sit back and enjoy my children, I'm reminded of some Very Important Things. Like, the fact that <em>life goes on</em> and <em>is more than okay</em> when I'm not myself. Or that a few subpar meals in a row is not the end of the world. Or that resting in bed is the perfect opportunity to grab some extra cuddle time with your sweet three-year-old. One of the loveliest moments with my kids in some time actually came last week around the dinnertable, over frozen pizza that I couldn't taste, while I sat blowing my nose and enjoying their lively conversation. Being forced to slow down can, in fact, be a gift.<br />
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Now if I can just remind myself of all these things when Baby Girl arrives...<br />
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<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/110/B3470AEEC7912900A9A91A86ED1A884D.png" style="border: 0px currentColor !important;" /></a>Brianna Heldthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224838737334231065noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14252293.post-57846618946673909512013-02-14T08:00:00.000-07:002013-02-14T08:00:00.811-07:00Valentine's reflections<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Me and my Valentine at this year's company Christmas party. I am very pregnant, and very uncharacteristically in a sports stadium.</span></div>
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It's February 14th, meaning that my big kids just set off for their weekly homeschool co-op with homemade cards in hand, eagerly anticipating a day filled with sugar consumption and hearts. Meanwhile <em>I'm</em> home with my little ones, anticipating what will be a <em>belated</em> Valentine's Day date with my husband once I'm finally over this ridiculous cold and can, you know, actually taste food again. (Word to the wise: don't come down with a week-plus-long cold when you're 37 weeks pregnant. Just don't. It's awful.)<br />
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Now my husband doesn't know this, but our date will also include shopping for baby things--<strong>because I'm <em>completely</em> unprepared for Baby Girl's birth in two weeks.</strong> As in I presently have<em> one</em> onesie, <em>one</em> nightgown and <em>one</em> pair of pants for baby, and <em>no</em> nursing bra for me. Oh, and I need to buy an infant carseat, 'cause I don't have one of those either, and supposedly babies use them.<br />
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I figure that's what you do with your Special Valentine when you've been married ten-plus years: you go to dinner and shop for the baby, and hope it all gets done before your water breaks. <strong>And in my case, you have a heck of a good time doing it.</strong><br />
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Because, well, I love my husband an awful lot. I love being married, I love thinking back to when we were dating, and I love our story. I love how we married young and started having children young. I love all of the assorted adventures we've had and I love thinking about the many more up ahead. I love <em>us.</em><br />
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<strong>Marriage is awesome.</strong> Even in the mundane. Maybe <em>especially</em> in the mundane.<br />
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I read an interesting article in <em>Salon</em> recently that I plan to write more fully about at some point in the future. For now I'll tell you that the subject was Mormon mommy blogs, and why so many people are addicted to them...including the author of the article--a self-described (and unmarried) feminist. Her point was that people are clearly drawn to the shiny-happy marriages and families portrayed by these LDS bloggers, and it's no wonder: we live in a time and place where we're <em>supposed</em> to be discontent, stressed out, "too busy". Marriages aren't necessarily all that happy. So these glimpses into the lives of people who might just <em>be</em> happy serve as a sort of escape, or at the very least, an encouragement or assurance that it's at least <em>possible</em>.<br />
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It got me thinking about how maybe the culture really does need <em>more</em> and not <em>less</em> of that. <em>More</em> women and <em>more</em> men willing to share the <em>good</em> about married life, raising children, and domesticity. Not from a look-at-my-perfectly-photographed-and-magazine-worthy-house-and-family perspective, but from a life-is-simple-and-there-is-joy-in-my-vocation sort of place. <br />
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<strong>If nothing else, we married people could certainly aim to laugh at ourselves a bit more, and maybe not take things quite so seriously.</strong> <br />
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Things like Baby Girl being due in two weeks...closing on our new home shortly after the due date...packing up my house in the final stages of pregnancy...discovering that I have literally no present ability to dress, change, or transport Baby Girl...being bedridden with a cold when I'm supposed to be doing all the aforementioned other stuff. It's real life, and it's positively <em>crazy</em>, and I swear that the secret to staying sane and happy is that my husband and I <em>laugh</em> about it pretty much every single day.<br />
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This is of course part of why I'm so very happy to be married to my husband. He's someone I admire quite a bit, he takes good care of his family, he is devoted to Jesus, and he cracks me up. We're best friends. <br />
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A blog reader actually emailed me a long time ago asking if I'd write a post about how to find a good spouse. And that post is sitting, unfinished, in my drafts. Sad. I need to finish it. It's fun for me to write about stuff like that because I really <em>did</em> find a good husband, which is a good thing because it's one of the most important decisions you'll ever make. God has blessed us with a delightful marriage and beautiful life together and I don't take that for granted. No it doesn't mean we never argue or get angry, but it means that we really, genuinely like each other. That we look forward to time together, even if it's dragging screaming kids through Target or making a spontaneous offer on a house. <strong>And above all else, we're fiercely committed to our marriage. Until death do us part. No if's, and's or but's. No escape clauses.</strong> <br />
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So anyway, that's my Valentine's Day: trying to kick this rotten cold so I can go to dinner, and so my baby will have socks. And you know what? <em>I can't wait.</em> <strong>Because it's going to be me and him, good food, good conversation, and a lot of laughing. Love.</strong><br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/110/B3470AEEC7912900A9A91A86ED1A884D.png" style="border: 0px currentColor !important;" /></a>Brianna Heldthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224838737334231065noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14252293.post-8509437037349380142013-02-12T08:00:00.000-07:002013-02-12T08:00:01.021-07:00Like it's 1415<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiItjoZpnY9s_p8sCb8L4KxaBajxaK6kwA8-vQgjSsywH-d0eTdhOmxppv8KwDfkKUpfedIhw1WYURpVhQFqCEVv17hPYZJonRL3KNQ_z5s-DnIFn1AaqiYp7jQH2zbWg-C0JZk/s1600/popewave.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiItjoZpnY9s_p8sCb8L4KxaBajxaK6kwA8-vQgjSsywH-d0eTdhOmxppv8KwDfkKUpfedIhw1WYURpVhQFqCEVv17hPYZJonRL3KNQ_z5s-DnIFn1AaqiYp7jQH2zbWg-C0JZk/s400/popewave.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<strong><em>To the world, it's unsettling to imagine a man with global influence and practical power, moving to a small room, in a house of prayer, where he'll offer Mass and probably practice the piano. But Benedict XVI has never been interested in power or influence. He has been interested in friendship with Jesus Christ — his own, and mine, and yours.</em></strong><em>---</em>Denver Archbishop Aquila<br />
<br />
<br />
I woke up yesterday to the surprising news of Pope Benedict XVI's resignation and, consequently, to a Facebook feed replete with commentary, speculation, and even some vitriol (thank you Anne Rice fan page). No one was really expecting this, that much is clear.<br />
<br />
This is the first time a pope has resigned since 1415.<br />
<br />
I honestly wasn't planning on writing about it--what could <em>I</em> possibly say that others hadn't <em>already</em> said within hours of the bombshell announcement? <strong>That is, until someone asked me what I thought, and I considered how the pope used to be a pretty mysterious figure to me back when I was a Protestant.</strong> I didn't get it, and didn't know any Catholics who could explain it. And it's funny because, well, now I'm Catholic, so I figure maybe I should take this opportunity to share my journey of coming to accept the doctrine of the papacy, now that the whole <em>world</em> is talking about the papacy.<br />
<br />
The chair of St. Peter is a difficult hurdle for Protestants for a number of reasons, but I think it all comes down to the idea that Catholicism is Sacramental. It is <em>earthy</em>. Physical things that we can see, hear, smell, and touch <em>also</em> hold supernatural and eternal significance. <br />
<br />
And there really <em>isn't</em> a whole lot of that in Protestantism: baptism and communion are, in many denominations, regarded as merely <em>symbolic</em>. Marriage is something that can be <em>dissolved</em>. The Bible's commands about confessing sins are distilled down to occasionally saying "sorry" to God, while not holding any real significance because they were already paid for in full. Ordained pastors, ministers and reverends may preach the Bible from the pulpit, but they cannot trace their lineage back to Saint Peter. <br />
<br />
So the very thought that God uses the stuff of earth--like bread and wine and water and people--to carry out the supernatural was once something foreign to me. The very thought that the Holy Spirit actively protects Christ's Church from error in passing on the deposit of faith received from the apostles was disconcerting. And yet as a Protestant I certainly accepted the Bible itself as being inerrant, I'd just never connected the dots and considered why exactly that might not extend to the institution which <em>gave</em> us the Bible.<br />
<br />
As time passed by and I continued reading and processing through this other way of looking at faith, as I cautiously allowed myself to stand back and think<em> what if, </em>as I weighed the evidence and considered the possibilities, <strong>the burden of proof began to shift</strong>. Either the Catholics were, gasp, <em>right</em>, or the early Church fathers and subsequent popes and doctors of the Church were the most brilliant and cunning of all men. Because you know what? <em>Roman Catholicism makes sense.</em> From every angle: historically, Biblically and philosophically, it fits together. No mental gymnastics required to accept Jesus' crowd-scattering words in John 6, no crazy disconnect between the Old Testament priesthood and Jesus' fulfillment of the sacrifice, and no need to pretend John 20:21-23 isn't there.<br />
<br />
And from a purely experiential perspective--heaven forbid my personal experience ever become any sort of litmus test for truth, but I will still acknowledge it as a perspective--the Catholic Church truly is the fullness of the faith. Christ's Church as He established it. No coincidence that as civilizations and societies and assorted denominations crumble, the Catholic Church stands. Her teachings don't change. And so what a gift it has been for me personally to receive the Sacraments, to receive Jesus Himself in the Holy Eucharist at Mass, to be absolved of my sins in the Sacrament of Confession, to see the beauty of chastity reflected in both my marriage and in the lives of the many consecrated religious that I know. <br /><br /><strong>Simply, I've fallen in love with the Church.</strong><br />
<br />
Years before becoming Catholic, I sat glued to St. Peter's Square on the television screen, waiting for the smoke that would indicate a new pope had been chosen. I was completely transfixed. See while I'd never taken the time to really look into it all, I'd long been interested in the subject of Church History, especially in regards to the Reformation, and why there were so many Protestant sects today, and how the Catholics could hold so many views that "weren't in the Bible." <br />
<br />
And, the pope. <br />
<br />
I really wondered about the pope. How could someone so clearly arrogant, claiming to speak for God Himself, be heralded as holy or as someone who loved Jesus? How could a man claim to love the God <em>I</em> loved <em>and</em> keep people in bondage to a bunch of man-made rules and superstitious devotions? I just didn't get it.<br />
<br />So I watched. I watched as Joseph Ratzinger became Pope Benedict XVI.<br />
<br />
Without the slightest thought that one day <em>I </em>would look to him as the Holy Father of a Church to which <em>I</em> belonged.<br />
<br />
How wrong I was about this man, and about the papacy in general. Jesus wanted His Church to have a shepherd. He left His Church in the hands of the apostles. He built His Church upon Saint Peter, who would be the leader of Jesus' Church on earth. This leader was never to be confused for God or our Savior Jesus Christ, but instead to represent Him and point us towards Him. To <em>protect</em> us from false teachers and from bad doctrine. Not by his own magic powers, but by the power of the Holy Spirit. <br />
<br />
No pope has ever been sinless. I used to think that's what Catholics believed and it made little sense to me, for obvious reasons. But it turns out that the Catholic Church has never even <em>remotely</em> suggested this--instead, it was just my own uninformed and mistaken understanding of <em>papal infallibility</em>.<br />
<br />
<strong>Far from meaning that the pope is all-knowing or all-perfect, infallibility means that:</strong><br />
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when, in the exercise of his office as shepherd and teacher of all Christians, in virtue of his supreme apostolic authority, he defines a doctrine concerning faith or morals to be held by the whole Church, he possesses, by the divine assistance promised to him in blessed Peter, that infallibility which the divine Redeemer willed his Church to enjoy in defining doctrine concerning faith or morals. Therefore, such definitions of the Roman Pontiff are of themselves, and not by the consent of the Church, irreformable (Vatican I).</blockquote>
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<br />
<strong>Eventually I came to understand. Eventually I came to accept the doctrines about the papacy as true.</strong> <strong><em>Eventually I became Catholic.</em></strong><br />
<br />
And I am, like many, so very sorry to hear of Pope Benedict XVI's resignation. If you've read any of his writings, then you know he is profoundly brilliant with an incredible heart for Jesus. I've long appreciated his unwillingness to compromise and his courageous standing for truth, which he somehow manages to do with charity, grace and clarity. I believe he truly has the Church's best interests at heart. <br />
<br />
<strong>I also believe the media, from FOX News to MSNBC, will continue to speculate and demonize and call his legacy a failure, all in the premature and confused way they report on everything else. </strong><br />
<br />
I believe millions will cast aspersions on this holy man by saying he couldn't quell scandal or harmonize the progressives and the conservatives. As if that is in his control, or job description. These people haven't a clue about what the Catholic Church is or about who the pope is. Like me all those years ago, watching the live news feed from Vatican City.<br />
<br />
Thankfully though I've learned that the papacy is not about power <em>or</em> prestige. It's a humble and often despised position, in spite of its immense importance and significance. <strong>And Pope Benedict XVI's plan to live out the rest of his days in a monastery is further evidence that this is indeed a remarkable pope.</strong> This is indeed a virtuous man who loves his Lord above all else, and who is intent on giving up his life for his friends. Us. The Church. His future will look insignificant to the world who already can't wrap their mind around a man relinquishing the papacy, but then again, that is one of God's most precious and hidden truths, isn't it? Nothing done in service to Jesus is small. Prayer, devotion, the little things, the unseen, all of it is of great and eternal value. We may never know the graces and beauty that have come to us through the prayers of the faithful.<br />
<br />
And I for one have been honored to have been served by Pope Benedict XVI, and I will be honored to have him praying for me in the years to come. May God bless and keep this dear soul.<br />
<br />
<strong>The Church will of course continue on, teaching the truth and shepherding souls to heaven. What a beautiful gift we've been given.</strong><br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/110/B3470AEEC7912900A9A91A86ED1A884D.png" style="border: 0px currentColor !important;" /></a>Brianna Heldthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224838737334231065noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14252293.post-22245891087092841992013-02-07T08:00:00.000-07:002013-02-07T08:00:08.157-07:00To my {second} youngest daughter<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Hwa-bWC0r9n7GiDGroKbrxT-hDQNmr3woXl9XkuHbf-bPXSvAhF68PahCxBA2ba5vNi2lPFukcQITsjOVAF8U08XTbsVpavIeHom-871d8VVz29tNmKLw3LSAROSKXy9vNVw/s1600/maryinmybed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Hwa-bWC0r9n7GiDGroKbrxT-hDQNmr3woXl9XkuHbf-bPXSvAhF68PahCxBA2ba5vNi2lPFukcQITsjOVAF8U08XTbsVpavIeHom-871d8VVz29tNmKLw3LSAROSKXy9vNVw/s400/maryinmybed.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br />
Mary Lucille,<br />
<br />
Roughly three weeks from now I'll be giving birth to your new baby sister. My water will no doubt break like it always does, we'll grab some towels and go to the hospital and, after what will hopefully be yet another of my short-and-uneventful-labors-that-hurt-like-heck-but-make-me-feel-empowered, Baby Heldt Number 8 will be here.<br />
<br />
And, <em>I know</em>. Baby Number <em>8</em>.<br />
<br />
In case you hadn't noticed, we have us a lot of kids 'round these here parts. You're all fairly close in age and four of you are adopted and two of you were born with Down syndrome, and so we get a lot of attention when we go places like Costco and IKEA. Our family is noisy, messy, crazy, funny and, well, <em>different</em>--we drive a huge 15-passenger-van that other peoples' kids like to look inside, for goodness' sake.<br />
<br />
Over the years, we've been asked many times if we are "done having kids". Being that we are about to have eight, I guess you know the answer. God showed us long ago that children are a gift, a blessing, and ultimately the beautiful product of married love. When I married your daddy over ten years ago, I knew he'd make an amazing husband and an incredible father, but I'd had no idea just how true it would be. With the birth and adoption of every.single.child, our marriage has grown, stretched, and multiplied in love. With the addition of each and every precious one of you, my respect for and relationship with your dad has deepened. It's become better. And that love extends to you and your siblings as well. <br />
<br />
So as for being "done", well, it is impossible to imagine life <em>without</em> any one of you crazy kids. We may not be the world's most conventional family, but our home is <em>full</em>. Filled to the brim with <em>life</em>. It's Anna with her nose in a book, it's Yosef and Biniam whispering about their day before they drift off to sleep at night, it's Kaitlyn leading Mekdes, you and Tigist in some sort of craft she's come up with (that usually involves drinking straws and glue), and it's you dancing with your baby dolls to Stevie Nicks' "Landslide" as I write this letter. <br />
<br />
And you see, I know there could never be a moment in the future when I would look around--no matter how crowded our dinnertable might become--and think that there are just too many children. Or ever think that factors like college funds and bedroom space and owning a cool car ought to dictate family size. <br />
<br />
I'm so glad for <em>each</em> of you and for the beautiful, priceless, impossible-to-be-replicated dynamic you bring to our family. <br />
<br />
<em>Done</em> is overrated. Obviously.<br />
<br />
Now of course you and your sister Tigist are collectively known as "the babies". You in particular have been the youngest for awhile now and even at three years old, I think of you as my baby. The way you mispronounce words and boss your older siblings around, and the way your wispy blond hair flies in the wind and gets in your eyes because you refuse to wear a hair clip--all those things are so<em> you</em>, and make <em>you</em> so incredibly dear to me. This may sound strange, but I've savored my "baby time" more and more with each subsequent child. Chubby toes and big tears and little voices...all of it.<br />
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And we've had some amazing time with you as our baby. We've done some amazing things. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAGZt15mQqBxSG5Lwg60lEOV-tl4D32YiLVV5wdpXClw08_cbMuNnVnQbiRlJ-dZfyiU3kOg6DRWsYzQ37L2ce-ZqTlv_xIm-dlBDkteuoppc_uTph9VnlKFjVam1kHy4VdR-9/s1600/P4200172.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAGZt15mQqBxSG5Lwg60lEOV-tl4D32YiLVV5wdpXClw08_cbMuNnVnQbiRlJ-dZfyiU3kOg6DRWsYzQ37L2ce-ZqTlv_xIm-dlBDkteuoppc_uTph9VnlKFjVam1kHy4VdR-9/s400/P4200172.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
Remember when we took you all the way to Ethiopia, and you were the first sibling to meet Mekdes and Tigist?<br />
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<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiciTPdb4Owztzq55AnovuhbpD95XUmSB1WZ_qsBYKKRpoI8vbKXlYGP21JwTuNrlM_VRV6j1spHOq-HhUWdTvt_kZP3PUhgtnI0Bmno6_4unrnMQhb5A2ZCDBpx0Gu86R9VBA/s1600/Ethiopia2+515.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiciTPdb4Owztzq55AnovuhbpD95XUmSB1WZ_qsBYKKRpoI8vbKXlYGP21JwTuNrlM_VRV6j1spHOq-HhUWdTvt_kZP3PUhgtnI0Bmno6_4unrnMQhb5A2ZCDBpx0Gu86R9VBA/s400/Ethiopia2+515.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
Or when we went to Rome, and I <a href="http://www.briannaheldt.com/2011/08/national-breastfeeding-awareness-month.html">breastfed</a> you in the roped-off area of the Sistine Chapel? At the invitation of Vatican officials? <br />
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But you're not technically a baby anymore, <em>nor are you technically the youngest</em>.<br />
<br />
Because a <em>new</em> baby girl is about to be born.<br />
<br />
And far from being even a <em>little</em> put out by this unavoidable fact, you're on track to win the award for "Most Excited Kid to Meet the New Baby." For the past nine months your hand has never been far from my growing belly, you regularly greet me by asking if the baby's awake, and when she kicks and you feel it? You squeal, giggle, cover your mouth with delight and yell happily at the top of your lungs. No insecurity, no fear that you might just be losing your place in the family.<br />
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Just <em>love</em>.<br />
<br />
I'm not sure why this still surprises me--after all this time, after being amazed over and over again by how God multiplies love and opens hearts and knits families together, I still somehow wonder. I am still for some reason tempted to question God's design for families, for the community of siblings which nurtures and instructs and loves without condition. <em>Is it really okay to have seven siblings? Will this baby be...resented? Even a little bit?</em><br />
<br />
But it just never seems to happen. Instead, God strengthens bonds and softens hearts as He brings forth life. <br />
<br />
When we brought <em>you</em> home from the hospital three-and-a-half years ago, you were greeted by two sisters and two brothers who refused to leave your side for, well, the last three-and-a-half years.<br />
<br />
And now it's your turn to love and ohhhh and ahhhh and fight over a new baby<em>.</em> You'll be stepping into a brand new role in our family, and a role that God is giving you at that. Which is pretty exciting, in part because I'll get to see a new dimension to who you are. I already see how you take a nurturing role with Tigist who, while chronologically older, is developmentally younger, but I think it will be even more apparent with a sweet and fragile little newborn for you to hold and kiss.<br />
<br />
I can't wait.<br />
<br />
And so even though you're clearly far too young to read my blog (in spite of your recent ability to buy an app, unauthorized, on our Kindle), I wanted to write all of this down as I reflect on the mystery and beauty of marriage and family, of life begetting life, of God working through mothers and fathers and children and siblings to bring love, hope and true peace to the world. You are part of God's amazing creation, part of His most perfect plan, and I honestly can't <em>wait</em> to see how He uses you in the life of your precious new sister.<br />
<br />
Because while you may be young, you are born with a beautiful and innate dignity, and are a unique and profound gift to your new sister, to your family, to the world, to the Church, and to Jesus. <br />
<br />
All of this to say, as you prepare to give up your spot as baby of our family, thank you for loving New Baby Girl so well, Mary Lu-Lu-Lu. She is blessed to have you waiting for her.<br />
<br />
All my love,<br />
Mommy<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/110/B3470AEEC7912900A9A91A86ED1A884D.png" style="border: 0px currentColor !important;" /></a>Brianna Heldthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224838737334231065noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14252293.post-44018452532081329982013-02-05T08:00:00.000-07:002013-02-05T08:00:00.365-07:00Spontaneous and pregnant<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Have you and your husband ever decided to convert your <em>present</em> house into a rental, and buy a <em>new</em> house, all at 8-months-pregnant?</div>
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Yeah, me neither.</div>
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Oh wait.</div>
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Yes, yes I have.</div>
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Just recently in fact.</div>
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<strong>I know it's crazy, but we are indeed buying a new house.</strong> On two-and-a-half acres. Outside of the city. And rather spontaneously, I might add!</div>
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When we first moved to Colorado five years ago, we did a ton of research and bought a bungalow in a historic old city neighborhood that we knew would be, due to location, a great investment. (That's me and Kaitlyn checking it out for the first time. She was so little!) It's hard to choose a place to live when you're thousands of miles away, and so this seemed a safe bet--we figured once we eventually put down some roots and had a better handle on the metro area, we'd relocate if we wanted. </div>
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And we've enjoyed our time here. I love my home and my neighborhood. The house was a fixer-upper and is (like most homes in the neighborhood), um, kind of quirky--but it's been so fulfilling to see it all come together. We've put a lot of work into it, and it feels good. I'll have to do a before-and-after post sometime soon.</div>
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We've decided though that ultimately, we want our kids' childhood marked by being outdoors, running free, and having space. For years now in fact I've been telling my {ever-patient} and {long-suffering} husband that I want him to buy me a farm where we don't have to do any actual farming.</div>
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Because I'm practical like that.</div>
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And, I like moving.</div>
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I like packing.<br />
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I like organizing.<br />
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I like getting rid of stuff.<br />
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I like getting into a house and changing things.<br />
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As for Kevin, he<em> doesn't</em> like moving, but in spite of his regular head-shaking at my aspirations to own some sort of non-working cattle ranch, he shares my vision for our family. Plus he's tired of battling I-25 traffic to and from work everyday, and he didn't like when someone recently helped themselves into our minivan and went sifting through the contents of our glove compartment. (To save anyone else the trouble, we just have car manuals and holy cards in there. No cash. Sorry.) And it turns out that right now (life circumstances like, oh I don't know, being on the precipice of <em>giving birth</em> aside) is actually a great time for us to make this transition, financially-speaking. </div>
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And to make an already-long story short, we went and looked at a house on a whim that pretty much surpassed any and all expectations. Beautiful area, stunning mountain views, a little bit of acreage, and the home itself is outfitted perfectly for a big ol' family like ours. </div>
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The only drawback--and it's a huge one--is that the house is in the complete <em>opposite</em> direction of our friends, our parish, and my parents. But we figure we can make it work. Our social and parish life will remain the same--we'll just be that family that drives a little farther for stuff. If nothing else, people will be extra impressed and happy to see us when we show up to parties, right?</div>
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So in a semi-uncharacteristic move on our part, we threw caution to the wind and made an offer, which the owners accepted, and which is contingent upon us getting renters into <em>this</em> house. If all goes as planned, we'll close escrow on March 7th--<em>exactly one week after my due date.</em> </div>
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<strong>Clearly, this will prove to be either one of the best or dumbest things we've ever done.</strong> </div>
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The great thing about blogging is, you readers will be the first to know.</div>
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I'll keep you posted. :)</div>
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/110/B3470AEEC7912900A9A91A86ED1A884D.png" style="border: 0px currentColor !important;" /></a>Brianna Heldthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224838737334231065noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14252293.post-73888840236895001322013-02-04T08:49:00.002-07:002013-02-04T08:49:26.608-07:00Catholic StandHi friends!<br />
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Head on over to a great new website that recently launched, and to which I'll be regularly contributing. Today I have an article up about adoption: <a href="http://catholicstand.com/openness-to-life-by-way-of-adoption/">Openness to Life by way of adoption</a>.<br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/110/B3470AEEC7912900A9A91A86ED1A884D.png" style="border: 0px currentColor !important;" /></a>Brianna Heldthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224838737334231065noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14252293.post-45802020579308798772013-02-01T08:00:00.000-07:002013-02-01T08:00:06.709-07:00On adoption and the deserving of life <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Recently I wrote an article entitled <a href="http://www.briannaheldt.com/2013/01/why-you-cant-erase-women.html">Why You Can't Erase Women</a>. It got a bit of attention, and as generally happens when that is the case, it also generated some good discussion. <strong>Interestingly, some in the pro-life camp were disappointed that I didn't use the <em>other</em> "a-word" in my piece: adoption.</strong><br />
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Apparently this surprised people, which in turn surprised <em>me</em>, because I don't necessarily connect being anti-abortion with being an adoptive parent. In fact, I actually bristle when adoption advocates say you can't be pro-life (!) if you aren't adopting (!), and I <em>also</em> bristle when pro-lifers casually throw the word adoption around--as if abortion is somehow <em>only</em> wrong because some other couple might want that baby.<br />
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So as I've been thinking through some of this, I wanted to essentially come clean here and say <em>I didn't omit that word by accident.</em> I didn't unintentionally leave out a paragraph in my haste to hit publish, or experience a brain malfunction that resulted in such an egregious error. <br />
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<strong>The truth is that I avoided the subject of adoption altogether, <em>on purpose</em>.</strong> Because my article was about women, abortion, motherhood, and the dignity of the human person. It wasn't <em>about</em> adoption. Abortion would be a horrible atrocity if no children were <em>being</em> adopted. And maybe this seems like an arbitrary distinction, but <em>adoption</em> is not technically a mother's alternative to abortion, anyhow. <br />
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<em>Relinquishment</em> is.<br />
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Having four adopted children myself, I will tell you that the issues surrounding relinquishment (a birth mother legally forfeiting her right to raise her child) and adoption (a person legally accepting parental responsibility for a child not born to them) are complex, difficult, and downright messy. <br />
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That's why it bothers me when adoption is casually suggested as an easy and obvious solution to the problem of abortion. <em>As if a child being relinquished is no big deal.</em><br />
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For those raising adopted children with ADHD, PTSD, or RAD, it's a very big deal.<br />
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For those who've had to place their adopted children in residential treatment, it's a very big deal.<br />
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For women who weep over the loss of the child(ren) they relinquished, it's a very big deal.<br />
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For children in the US foster care system legally cleared for adoption but who are never chosen, it's a very big deal.<br />
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So in spite of being an adoptive mother, I tend to avoid adoption sound bites when I'm discussing abortion. While this sort of rhetoric may on some level seem logical (and is certainly sometimes appropriate), it can also belie a misunderstanding of what is actually at stake in the taking of a vulnerable child's life, and may indeed render a birth mother little more than an incubator.<br />
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<em>Which was kind of Libby Anne's whole point about the anti-abortion movement in the first place.</em><br />
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<strong>Plus, does anyone really believe that feminists are pro-abortion simply because they don't know relinquishment is an option?</strong><br />
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Or that women obtaining abortions are largely doing so because they're unaware that they could place their child for adoption?<br />
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The sad truth is that <em>not</em> all relinquished children in the United States will be immediately chosen by loving and capable adoptive parents--some languish in the system for years, and some will eventually emancipate. Some are medically fragile and live out their days in state-run homes or NICUs. <strong>But whether a child is "wanted" or not, that child, made in the image of God, retains the dignity and right to live. Period.</strong><br />
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Now of course I consider myself a staunch advocate for adoption--I really do. An orphanage is no place for a person to grow up, and emancipating from the foster care system is, sadly, a recipe for failure. Kids.need.families. And it <em>terrifies</em> me to think about where my own four adopted children would be today, had their respective birth mothers not made the decision to relinquish. Two of them would have died as infants, because they were quite literally starving. Two of them happen to have Down syndrome and would most likely have endured horrible abuse and neglect throughout their short lives, due to social stigmas in their birth country.<br />
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So yes, relinquishment and adoption are an integral part of caring for birth mothers in crisis. And they are an integral part of preserving the lives of countless children. <br />
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But I can acknowledge this without potentially trivializing the immense cost (both to mother and child) of relinquishment. I can acknowledge this without potentially trivializing the difficulties so many of our nation's adopted children face by virtue of having been relinquished, abandoned or neglected. <br />
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<strong>More importantly, I can address the horrific realities of abortion without using adoption to prove it. </strong><br />
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Because, while my children are beautiful and exquisite examples of what happens when a woman chooses life and selflessness over death and convenience, and while they are an amazing testament to the redemption of God, <em>their worth as human beings is in no way dependent upon having someone to raise them.</em> <br />
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<strong>They deserved life, whether or not they ever left that orphanage to be adopted.</strong> <br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/110/B3470AEEC7912900A9A91A86ED1A884D.png" style="border: 0px currentColor !important;" /></a>Brianna Heldthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224838737334231065noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14252293.post-36271331232935687202013-01-25T08:00:00.000-07:002013-01-25T08:30:19.781-07:00{Denver} March for Life 2013<strong>This past Sunday my family had the opportunity to attend the Denver March for Life.</strong> And by family, I do mean every last one of us, save for my son recovering on the couch from a tonsillectomy.<br />
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We started our morning with Mass at the Cathedral Basilica of the Immaculate Conception downtown, where it was pretty much standing-room-only. We naturally had a difficult time finding parking for our ginormous van, and thus showed up sweaty with not much time to spare--but just so happen to have the best friends ever, who saved us seats.<br />
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After Mass we walked over to the state capitol for the March for Life rally. There were a number of pro-life speakers sharing different perspectives--from priests to Protestant pastors to women who have had abortions themselves. <br />
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Then all of the children in attendance were invited up to the steps to participate in a balloon release. And then the actual march started.<br />
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As you can see, we (proudly) took up our signs and began the long procession downtown. Passers-by honked, and some yelled not-nice-things, but mostly it seemed that anyone willing to say anything was supportive. I remember one car in particular that passed by, honking and with multiple passengers inside waving happily and excitedly. <br />
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The most touching moment of the march for me, by far, happened as the crowd was dispersing from the steps to begin the walk. That's when I noticed several women taking up huge signs with <em>I regret my abortion</em> written on them. I actually had tears in my eyes watching these women because they deemed preborn children <em>worth it</em>. Worth telling the world they had aborted their own children. Worth telling a religious and pro-life crowd they'd had abortions. Worth holding their heads up high.<br />
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It's interesting because the pro-life movement has received much discussion and criticism lately, especially from the feminist/atheist crowd. It has been painted as oppressive, angry, naive, repressive, judgemental, irrelevant...the list goes on. <br />
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<strong>But do you want to know what <em>really</em> goes on when thousands of people converge for a pro-life march?</strong><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjse1jWqxtyO0D8dfn8M38-XUMX5lxDXocPp_AlGGGVpJg9MdUG9f9b8WCMxganwV48tb5wRK7TD3MQE-5WITiygsEtF_u5O10fYnRn2aEMUgcgs2XDzUhgKSaXee9gTJ-A6rGj/s1600/1793.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjse1jWqxtyO0D8dfn8M38-XUMX5lxDXocPp_AlGGGVpJg9MdUG9f9b8WCMxganwV48tb5wRK7TD3MQE-5WITiygsEtF_u5O10fYnRn2aEMUgcgs2XDzUhgKSaXee9gTJ-A6rGj/s400/1793.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Kids run around in the sunshine.<br />
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Parents connect with friends and applaud women who are willing to share their stories.<br />
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People release a bunch of cheery and colorful balloons.<br />
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Everyone (including eight-months-pregnant me) marches around with signs that say things like "Defend Life", and spectators honk happily when they discover they're not alone in their conviction that children deserve to live, period.<br />
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<strong>We of course <em>didn't</em> see any media.</strong> None whatsoever. Apparently the local paper was too busy writing about the new WalMart that's opening. Ahem.<br />
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But you know what? The local media is more than welcome to pretend that this annual event doesn't happen. My husband and I certainly didn't drag six of our seven kids (plus the child presently hitching a ride in utero) downtown thinking we Heldts were going to change laws or minds or hearts or anything, really. <br />
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<strong>We simply <em>went</em>.</strong><br />
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Because it's important. <br />
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Because it matters. <br />
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Because my kids are watching.<br />
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Because people are watching.<br />
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Because children are dying.<br />
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God does not ask us to change the world or do Big Huge Things that make a Big Huge Impact. Instead He wants our hearts, wants us to love Him, and wants us to spend forever with Him in Heaven. So it is on the one hand an infintesimally <em>small</em> thing to spend the day marching downtown with friends and family. And yet on the other hand, it is of great and eternal significance. Because while we may not directly effect any sort of political change, when we participate in something like the March for Life, we affirm some of the most foundational truths about God and humanity. <br />
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We tell ourselves, our children, and our culture that men and women are created, <strong>from the moment of conception</strong>, with dignity and purpose.<br />
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We stand in solidarity with the mothers, fathers, and children who've fallen victim to this barbaric industry.<br />
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We serve as a public witness to the radical and counter-cultural reality of a life spent following Jesus.<br />
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We speak out for the many little lives lost and forgotten, who cannot speak for themselves.<br />
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<strong>The truth is that <em>most</em> of our lives are spent on the small things, like living out our vocations and putting one foot in front of the other and seeking relationship with God through humble means.</strong> So even if few care or take notice, God sees. And <em>He</em> cares. And I believe He will use even our smallest efforts in His plan of redemption.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP_wcmoL7XORls4P6Ac3UlAt1g4R2qQvT5wUiNfUZiwA-E0YJsUhMg8YbQB9R_KscnfFv4gGmPBctjX-X8gK120n4TWtZ-AiFB3sgCJuCcAEf-iegd2kj5yckrROqog3oceX0K/s1600/1804.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP_wcmoL7XORls4P6Ac3UlAt1g4R2qQvT5wUiNfUZiwA-E0YJsUhMg8YbQB9R_KscnfFv4gGmPBctjX-X8gK120n4TWtZ-AiFB3sgCJuCcAEf-iegd2kj5yckrROqog3oceX0K/s400/1804.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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And that is what I hope my children took away from the march. They took a stand for Jesus and for life and for humanity last Sunday afternoon, when our family could have been doing any number of other things. They witnessed the joy, the passion, and the grief that permeates what is known as the Pro-Life Movement. They saw first-hand that a whole lot of people, including some of our dearest friends, are concerned about abortion. <br />
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And I pray that this spark ignites within them a deep love and respect for life, as given by God, from conception until natural death--<strong>regardless of whether Roe v. Wade is ever overturned.</strong><br />
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And <em>that</em> is why we march for life.<br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/110/B3470AEEC7912900A9A91A86ED1A884D.png" style="border: 0px currentColor !important;" /></a>Brianna Heldthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224838737334231065noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14252293.post-60102223109374232362013-01-15T13:16:00.000-07:002013-01-15T13:59:46.172-07:00Why you can't erase women<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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With the 40th anniversary of Roe v. Wade approaching, I've been thinking quite a bit about a <a href="http://www.patheos.com/blogs/lovejoyfeminism/2012/12/the-anti-abortion-movement-erasing-women-edition.html">post</a> I read last month over at the popular atheist blog "Love, Joy, Feminism". The article asserted that most pro-life (or anti-abortion) ads portray photos of already-born babies and pre-born fetuses, <i>while failing to depict the mother.</i> Libby Anne therefore concludes that anti-abortion "fundamentalists" care nothing for women themselves, in spite of the fact that--gasp--these babies would not and could not exist without the women carrying them!<br />
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Now when I performed my own image search on Google, it netted the same result. (Along with a photo of a lady licking a pumpkin--Google images are scary.) <b>So I grant that</b> <b>Libby Anne is correct in her assertion that women are oftentimes not depicted in anti-abortion literature.</b><br />
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I'll also grant that her argument is, on the surface anyway, semi-logical: people are only showing photos of babies, and <i>not</i> showing photos of women, and so therefore it must follow that these folks care <i>nothing</i> for women and <i>only</i> for babies. Rights for the pre-born zygotes, embryos and fetuses! Enslavement for and the ultimate erasure of women!<br />
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But being one of those anti-abortion types the article was complaining about, <i>I</i> would argue that this is a completely false and ridiculous dichotomy. These ads are not intended to convey the entire, complex issue of abortion and human rights within the confines of a city billboard or Facebook share, <b>but instead to demonstrate the humanity and dignity of a pre-born being.</b> Women can, after all, speak--and be seen, for that matter--for themselves. A 10-week-old embryo on the other hand <i>cannot</i>.<br />
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<strong>Because the horrors of abortion, everything from the procedure itself to the inherent risks and not-uncommon shame, are utterly hidden from the culture's view.</strong><br />
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Abortionists do their work behind closed clinic doors, where they are virtually the only ones seeing the tiny, barely-formed baby struggling to dodge the sharp instruments.<br />
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Even the woman herself is unconscious, and therefore not witness to her body being invaded as her child is systematically ripped apart and killed. <br />
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<b>So if anyone is rendering a woman voiceless and irrelevant, it is the person on the other end of the curette.</b><br />
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And what Libby Ann fails to see is that we anti-abortion folks <i>actually</i> believe the <i>very opposite</i>: the woman carrying the child in question <i>cannot</i> be erased. She is a<i> mother</i>, from the time her egg is fertilized, to a person made in the image of God Himself. And far from being merely an incubator or host, the mother has participated in mankind's most creative act: the bringing forth of new life. Whatever her personal circumstances--and I will not pretend that they are always conducive to or ideal for <i>raising</i> a child--she has conceived a human being, a body + soul. And that is a fact that simply <i>can't</i> be erased. <b>It just <i>is</i>.</b> <br />
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But so long as women seek salvation and freedom via Planned Parenthood escorts, vacuum aspirators and forceps, they fall prey to the culture's narrative which says that pregnancy renders women as little more than host to a parasite. <br />
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See, it is <i>the culture</i> that fails to acknowledge a woman as anything more than a body with a uterus. <br />
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<b>It is <i>the culture</i> that fails to acknowledge that a woman is a person.</b><br />
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Abortion advocates who deny the humanity, dignity and personhood of a fetus are <i>simultaneously</i> (and rather ironically) denying those very things about the woman <i>carrying</i> the fetus. No one should argue that carrying a pregnancy to term is not a sacrificial act. Because it is. But this is part of the mystery of womanhood, a profoundly amazing truth that gives rise to the awe of the human condition. Because in spite of God's original design,<i> not</i> all children are conceived in an act of conjugal love, but they <i>are</i> carried and birthed <b>through a constant choosing of the weaker's good over the stronger.</b> And it is a testament to women, <i>not a denigration</i>, when they choose something difficult because it is right and honorable. Even when it costs them. Maybe especially when it costs them.<br />
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So every single image you see of a fetus, whether online or by the side of the highway, represents not only a life, but the creative act of God, in which He allows us humans to participate through our free will and choosing. The fetuses represented by these images do not exist independently as such. <i>Those fetuses have parents.</i> <br />
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And so it follows too that every single baby discarded in the medical waste bin or stored in a clinic's refrigerator jar has a mother and a father. The baby's body may be distorted beyond recognition, or too tiny to even see, but the soul lives on--as does the motherhood of the woman whose child was killed for profit under the guise of "compassion".<br />
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Becoming pregnant, giving birth, and raising children does not cause me to cease to exist, nor does it diminish my personhood as a woman. <b>On the contrary, it gives witness to the very love of God, the community of the Holy Trinity, Christ's Church in all her radiant glory, and the mystery that is husband, wife and family.</b> And at the same time it is a beautiful paradox. Because in giving myself away, in saying yes to Jesus by loving my husband and my children, in emptying myself of selfishness through sacrifice, I <i>gain </i>far more than I could possibly imagine. <br />
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And far from being a mere duty or obligation, it has the potential to be an incredible source of joy.<br />
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It is interesting to note that many (most?) of the readers in "Love, Joy, Feminism"'s combox used to <i>be</i> pro-life, yet now as humanists cannot comprehend how one maintains that an embryo is a life worth fighting for. And the atheistic worldview espoused there makes logical sense if life on earth is all there is, if we are all merely a biological accident of the cosmos. Because if that were the case, there would be no objective morality, period--no standard outside of ourselves--and so one really <i>ought</i> to seek the easiest, most comfortable life possible. (Why wouldn't you, when the ultimate worship and autonomy of self takes the place of a God that is "other"?) And since becoming a mother and raising a child are <i>not</i> always comfortable, convenient or expedient, <i>abortion suddenly becomes a reasonable solution.</i><br />
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<b>The truth is, of course, that women will never, <i>ever</i> be "erased" by motherhood.</b> That notion is virtually impossible because our womanhood actually finds its <i>fullness</i> in love which, when we have chosen the vocation of marriage, is ultimately (and exquisitely) expressed through the conception of a child. It is love <i>begetting</i> love. It is, as Blessed John Paul II so eloquently described, a love which says "I may become a father/I may become a mother." Instead of being rooted in the utilitarian motive of mere pleasure-seeking, it is a love saying "yes" to God in the fashion of our Blessed Mother Mary. <br />
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And I would suggest that even when a child is <i>not</i> conceived within the Sacrament of Holy Matrimony, even when a soul springs into being amidst any sort of poverty, it is a love which calls for a different (though no less important) sort of self-giving on the part of the mother. It is a love which acknowledges the child as having an eternal soul <i>regardless the circumstances</i> of his or her conception, <b>and</b> which acknowledges the woman as a mother <i>regardless of her marital or societal status</i>.<br />
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<b>Because as women, our dignity and personhood <i>can't</i> be separated from the fact that we were created as women, with the great and profound potential for motherhood, by a loving, personal and creative God.</b> We were created through love, for love. And so we will never, ever be erased.<br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/110/B3470AEEC7912900A9A91A86ED1A884D.png" style="border: 0px currentColor !important;" /></a>Brianna Heldthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224838737334231065noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14252293.post-77263107728456630042013-01-10T07:30:00.000-07:002013-01-10T07:30:03.323-07:00Lessons in homeschooling<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIvx_JNtWRH1eiGxM7CCgyNJp7vYRZYvKfY4RioQFRqIMzKkJoQ8fnI2ScluIEMu5cDUqdofQZoO4yAzRTRzGSN5t0UUAzXG35PQsbY6ATXy2zn_udpOHVwdjSLWdpvij11APE/s1600/008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIvx_JNtWRH1eiGxM7CCgyNJp7vYRZYvKfY4RioQFRqIMzKkJoQ8fnI2ScluIEMu5cDUqdofQZoO4yAzRTRzGSN5t0UUAzXG35PQsbY6ATXy2zn_udpOHVwdjSLWdpvij11APE/s400/008.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Technically this photo, now several months' old, has nothing to do with homeschooling. But it's of me and all the kids. So there you go.</span></div>
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When we first made the decision to homeschool, our oldest was about to start Kindergarten. She'd already taught herself to read by that point, was self-motivated, and made me feel like the best homeschool mom <em>ever</em>. <br />
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<strong>Because CLEARLY this gig was going to be simple, easy and fulfilling.</strong> I was raising classically-educated prodigies! My 5-year-old daughter was reading unabridged books! We were finished with school by 11 am each day!<br />
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But then the following year, my sons began Kindergarten...and they weren't reading at <em>all</em>. When we'd work on blending, they didn't retain anything I taught them. Even simple Bob Books were a challenge. And they just plain weren't all that interested. I found it all incredibly frustrating (so much for my impressive prodigy-producing skills), and so I began to occasionally ponder signing them up at our neighborhood school. <em>They are very smart boys</em>, I reasoned, <em>so I must be doing something wrong</em>--that someone with a teaching credential would surely do <em>right</em>. <br />
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Of course I (thankfully) never did give in to that temptation. <em>I simply put the Bob Books and phonics instruction away.</em> We did other stuff instead. And yes I questioned my decisions and choices every.single.day. But we never gave up on homeschooling itself, because in spite of the fact that reading did not come as easily to some of my kids as to others, I had become committed to it for philosophical, ideological reasons. <em>I was invested.</em> <br />
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<strong>Deep-down I really, truly felt--and feel--that home educating is the <em>very best thing</em> for my children at this time.</strong> When I consider the many amazing benefits of doing life this way, the things we gain and yes also the things we are able to avoid, I don't <em>want</em> to sign my kids up for a five days a week, eight hours a day public education. I think they are better served spending that time with their family as they learn within a natural and organically Catholic context. I think <em>I</em> am better served by the slow, family-centered pace of life we maintain by limiting commitments outside of the home. And so we continue moving forward, even when it's difficult or seemingly bears little fruit.<br />
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<strong>Homeschooling has, quite literally, forced me to embrace ideas that were easy for me to <em>claim</em> to believe, but far harder to actually live out and stand by.</strong> Like the fact that children develop at different rates, rendering it impossible to expect kids sharing a chronological age to do this or that at precisely the same time. But we do expect this, or at least <em>I</em> do. I feel the pressure to make sure my kids conform to arbitrary standards set by federal bureaucrats (who don't know my kids). And quite frankly, that is ridiculous. Education and development simply don't work that way, especially when you take environmental and hereditary factors into account. <br />
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Of course my sons are eight years old now, in the second grade, and I'm happy to announce that they are <em>reading</em>! It's still a work in progress, and they're nowhere near being ready to tackle Aquinas' <u>Summa</u> (maybe next year?), but by golly they can blend sounds and recognize a number of sight words. They can pick up an Usborne reader and make it through most of it without much assistance from me. They are noticing street signs and blurting them out in the car. They've conquered the Bob Books. They love to compete with each other when I write words on the white board for them to sound out or memorize. Best of all, I can teach a lesson <em>and they remember it</em>.<br />
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<strong>And none of it is really because of anything I've done.</strong> Just like I had very little to do with my eldest reading at an advanced age, I don't take any credit for finding the perfect curriculum or method that finally made things start clicking for my sons. They are simply in a more advanced place developmentally than they were two years ago, and thus ready to read. It's still touch and go sometimes, but with consistency and exposure I'm at least pretty confident that they won't leave our home <em>completely</em> illiterate.<br />
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I know I'm not alone in occasionally (regularly?) feeling insecure about homeschooling. So I thought I would share five specific things that have helped TREMENDOUSLY in maintaining clarity and focus amidst the ups and downs of educating at home. Perhaps some of them will help you too:<br />
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<strong>1.) Keeping my eyes on the big-picture.</strong> When you do something every single day, it is easy to forget <em>why</em> exactly you're doing what you're doing. Math facts and history timelines and science experiments are great, and we want our kids to succeed, but our ultimate motivation in educating our children at home runs far deeper than academics--and so do the benefits.<br />
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<strong>2.) Being flexible.</strong> I'd envisioned my kids all becoming proficient readers by the end of their respective Kindergarten years. I'd imagined them making steady and predictable progress. But that wasn't happening. And so in desperate pursuit of sanity-preservation, we shelved reading instruction altogether, for a time. This is something that, while hard, ultimately revealed my own issues with pride and caring too much about other peoples' opinions. It was an important lesson for me to learn. And something I've had to practice again and again with parenting in general, because over the years I've had to double-back and shelve things and re-prioritize and change up my plan--and I anticipate having to do so going forward. Meeting the needs of my children requires being in tune with their specific situation at a specific given time, and that means that sometimes I'll need to adjust my own plans.<br />
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<strong>3.) Acknowledging that there is more than one right way to do a thing.</strong> I'm a big believer in objective and universal truth, but I'm also a big proponent of freedom in many areas of life and, more specifically, parenting. For some, plodding along and sticking to something is the right way to go. For others, like me when it came to teaching some of my kids to read, it worked better to just put the whole thing on hold for awhile. We ought not beat ourselves up for taking a different approach than others, when we are seeking to do what's best for our individual families.<br />
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<strong>4.)</strong> <strong>Rightly ordering my life. </strong>It is incredibly easy for priorities to become skewed--I become so engrossed in wearing my "homeschooling hat" that I forget that first and foremost, I'm a mother. My vocation is much bigger than how well my child writes his or her letters, and while I take education seriously, I've noticed that when I zero in on the minutae of school at the expense of my vocation at large, discouragement and frustration begin to take root. On the other hand, when I focus on following Jesus and on simply loving my children? I maintain perspective. I see academic subjects within their proper context. I don't lose sleep over the fact that one of my kids still has horrible penmanship. I remain more concerned with the encouraging of virtue and clear-thinking, and of helping my children reach their larger potential.<br />
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<strong>5.) Allowing room for grace.</strong> Guess what? I'm not perfect! I make mistakes all the time. And sometimes this homeschooling thing looks a whole lot <em>more</em> like clumsy trial and error, and a whole lot <em>less</em> like studious preparation for Harvard. I want to do my best and I want my kids to succeed, but really, stuff happens. Plans change. I have days where I'm tired (hello being 33 weeks pregnant!) and days where I want to give up and cry. I have days where my <em>kids</em> are tired and days where <em>they</em> want to give up and cry. I have days where I cancel school altogether and we go visit Grandma and Grandpa instead. (Those days are the best, for sure. Shhhhh.) And far from seeing the sum total of this as a failure or deficit on my part, I see it as simply <em>life</em>. Which is messy and unpredictable. If I measure our success as homeschoolers by an exquisitely perfect adherence to a schedule, or by constantly happy feelings towards home education, I am doomed to fail. But if I acknowledge that some days will just be hard, and that the world is not all on my shoulders, <em>and</em> if I regularly consider the wonderful gains my kids are making in various areas, I can continue pressing on in faith that God is doing something beautiful with my family as we educate at home.<br />
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Finally, I want to close with these wise and encouraging words from Pope Benedict XVI:<br />
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"<span style="font-style: italic;">Everyone knows that the Christian family is a
special sign of the presence and love of Christ and that it is called to give a
specific and irreplaceable contribution to evangelization. ... <span style="font-weight: bold;">The Christian family has always been the first way of
transmitting the faith</span> and still today retains great possibilities for
evangelization in many areas. Dear parents, commit yourselves always to teach
your children to pray, and pray with them; draw them close to the Sacraments,
especially to the Eucharist, ... introduce them to the life of the Church; in
the intimacy of the home do not be afraid to read the sacred Scriptures,
illuminating family life with the light of faith and praising God as Father.
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Be like a little Upper Room, like that of Mary
and the disciples, in which to live unity, communion and
prayer</span></span>!"<br />
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May you be encouraged and blessed on your parenting journey!<br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/110/B3470AEEC7912900A9A91A86ED1A884D.png" style="border: 0px currentColor !important;" /></a>Brianna Heldthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224838737334231065noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14252293.post-20769550936497800642013-01-02T15:44:00.001-07:002013-01-02T15:44:59.227-07:00Christmas 2012<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4BEqOmFT2JOrBSNfHF2jOwS6VZLSxA6lZYiMlbUHfZeFpqdyEw7_PyIbr8RInvIeMBSDUf-lQmtyKMEfiCgK9JNduuqczJHjhFc_YgIaUU8xI68CxqXQlYFpSG592WeAdYH1z/s1600/Christmaskidseve.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4BEqOmFT2JOrBSNfHF2jOwS6VZLSxA6lZYiMlbUHfZeFpqdyEw7_PyIbr8RInvIeMBSDUf-lQmtyKMEfiCgK9JNduuqczJHjhFc_YgIaUU8xI68CxqXQlYFpSG592WeAdYH1z/s400/Christmaskidseve.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<em><span style="font-size: x-small;">The Heldt kids on Christmas Eve.</span></em></div>
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Merry Christmas, friends!</div>
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Things have been quiet here on the blog front lately, as the past couple of weeks have found me busy shopping, decorating, baking, cooking, and wrapping gifts, all in preparation for Christmas.</div>
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It was actually a great joy getting things ready this year--I find that I have a much greater appreciation for Christmas in general, being Catholic and thus seeing it in the greater liturgical context.</div>
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The kids of course love it too. My oldest even told me as she was climbing into bed on Christmas night, "Our Christmases just keep getting better and <em>better</em>!"</div>
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One of my goals the past couple of years has been to make the celebration and feasting so very special that the day and meaning itself is not eclipsed by gifts. And I think it's working well. In conjunction with this I've also become more <em>intentional </em>about gift-buying. Each of our kids receives <em>one</em> primary gift from us, something we know they've been wanting or that they will really enjoy, and then we get them some smaller and group gifts too. This year the big gifts were scooters for my sons, and special dolls for my daughters (from Baby Alive to Laura Ingalls). Stockings contained chocolate and holy cards, as well as jewelry for church.</div>
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Up until last year we'd always travelled for Christmas, so we are still carving out our own family traditions. Midnight Mass on Christmas Eve (yes we do get all dressed up, all nine of us, and trek to church in the dead of night), sleeping in and eating a yummy breakfast on Christmas morning, lighting our tree and placing the star on top, reading the Christmas narrative from the Bible, singing Christmas songs, opening gifts, and enjoying a huge dinner of ham and all the trimmings. And my parents live in Colorado now so we were able to share Christmas with them here for the first time. So special!</div>
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Now I <em>didn't</em> manage to get Christmas cards sent out this year (sad!), and I still have two gingerbread house kits on the counter that my kids never made (craft fail!), so clearly I don't have this thing quite mastered yet. But we <em>have</em> had a lovely Christmas celebrating Jesus' birth amidst family and friends. And I hope you have, too!</div>
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/110/B3470AEEC7912900A9A91A86ED1A884D.png" style="border: 0px currentColor !important;" /></a>Brianna Heldthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224838737334231065noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14252293.post-83991196459502886632012-12-21T10:12:00.004-07:002012-12-21T10:16:43.942-07:00Women {not} having it all<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Last night I read <a href="http://jezebel.com/5855025/does-the-pill-make-sex-terrible">this article</a> in <em>Jezebel</em> (which I'm warning you is predictably, um, <em>blunt</em>, especially in the combox) about a recent study which revealed that <strong>women's sexuality is often negatively impacted by hormonal birth control.</strong> The author of the piece references the fact that we women just can't seem to win, that in attempting to avoid pregnancy we come up short in some way--either unable to experience the pleasure we would wish to, or in exposing ourselves to undue risk. All the while of course, men remain more or less unaffected and get to experience sex consequence-free, per the usual.<br />
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And, it's all really kind of true.<br />
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Back before I had any sort of religious or moral objections to artificial birth control, I used that pesky pill myself. And I did experience a variety of terrible, no-good-very-bad side effects, including some of the very ones listed by researchers in the aforementioned study. I also had horrible headaches, and emotional issues too. And when it became clear that my body was not going to simply "adjust" in some matter of time, I threw the pills in the trash. I told myself I could try a different, lower-dose pill in the future in hopes of having better results.<br />
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But then I heard about the potential abortifacient effects of hormonal birth control, and knew that it was officially no longer an option for me. Sigh.<br />
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Truth be told, I actually felt irritated and highly inconvenienced, and distinctly remember thinking, <strong>What are we going to <em>do</em>?</strong> I felt like there really <em>weren't</em> any great solutions to the "problem" of fertility, to the big riddle of <em>how do we live as a married couple while simultaneously avoiding kids?</em><br />
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I doubt I'm the only one who has felt this tension. Of course there are some for whom hormonal birth control works well, but for many of us, it comes with what amount to much bigger problems than conceiving a child with our husband. Which, as it turns out, is not the end of the world. And I know this because less than a year after dumping my prescription in the trash, I did indeed get pregnant. On God's timetable, not mine--I was one week into finishing up my bachelor's degree, and so I made the decision to unenroll from college since I wouldn't be able to graduate by the time baby was born. <br />
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It can be hard to change course, but when I left campus that final time, I actually had a huge smile on my face. My husband and I were having a precious child, and my own dreams, plans and expectations paled in comparison to God's. Even though my educational goals (which included graduate school at that point) were certainly good and reasonable, they naturally took second place to my vocation: marriage. And while it would be years before I found out that married love was <em>intended</em> by God to include the ultimate gift of self--fertility and the powerful potential to create life included--even as a 21-year-old, scarcely married a year, I sensed that there was something very right and proper about life springing forth from the union of husband and wife.<br />
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<strong>This is why, when I read about <a href="http://www.torontosun.com/2011/10/31/the-pill-might-not-be-helping-your-sex-life-study">studies like this</a>, I think about how women simply <em>can't</em> have it all.</strong><br />
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Because there <em>is</em> no such thing as consequence-free sex. Or consequence-free <em>anything</em>.<br />
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Every choice we make and every thing we do carries with it some combination of risk and reward.<br />
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Yes we can use the pill, but there is a pretty decent risk of experiencing adverse side-effects to our health and well-being. Or it might fail altogether, leaving us with a quite unexpected pregnancy--and unsavory "options" like raising a child alone, placing that child for adoption, or abortion. Either way, it's not out of the realm of possibility that we'll wind up asking the same questions as the author of the <em>Jezebel</em> article. <br />
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And it's also true that men <em>can</em> more or less escape many of the physical and emotional repercussions of sex. They are quite capable of using women for pleasure while simultaneously avoiding any responsibility for love and selflessness. <strong>But even sadder and more disturbing than this is the fact that women repeatedly allow them to do so, all in the name of meeting a sexual and emotional need.</strong> <br />
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Which I don't mean to diminish. We long for connection, and for love. We are programmed to want to give ourselves to another, and to receive someone giving themselves to us. But the number-one predictor of poverty is single-motherhood. <strong>And this fact alone ought to demonstrate that we women are incredibly vulnerable, and that it is far below our dignity to allow ourselves to be used by men who are ill-prepared for marriage, much less fatherhood.</strong> It would behoove us to acknowledge the simple and basic idea that being a woman includes having the capacity to conceive and carry and birth a child. We just plain should not have to be ashamed or frustrated by the way our bodies work. Period.<br />
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Proponents of birth control will of course continue to tell us that the pill is one of the greatest conventions for modern women, because we are capable of doing <em>so much more</em> now that we can trick our bodies and control our destiny. We can pursue careers, delay pregnancy until well into our forties, earn doctorates and ultimately (in a sense) be just like men. We don't have to be restricted by our bodily processes. And technically this is true--we really can do many of these things with the help of synthetic hormones. <strong>But the problem is that the actual <em>playing out</em> of this great experiment <em>isn't</em> all roses, and tells a much different story--one in which society is plagued by divorce, abortion, pornography, and decreased satisfaction in marriage.</strong> According to the CDC, 40.8% of children nationwide are born to unmarried women, and so while there will always be those who claim it is all working out just fine for <em>them </em>(and I wonder how many of these women are actually attempting to convince <em>themselves</em>), I'd suspect there are countless others who hold a different opinion.<br />
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And it may not be popular or well-received, but we owe women the truth. <strong>And that truth is that womanhood, for better or worse, involves the miraculous and God-given ability to bring forth children.</strong> Inconvenient or not, it is part of our humanity, written into our biology, whether we <em>like</em> it or not. We can fight against it tooth-and-nail, taking sexual pleasure for ourselves while attempting to skirt the consequences of pregnancy and sexually transmitted infections. But there is always risk. Risk that our method of birth control will fail and our boyfriend will leave us alone with a baby to care for. Risk that we will indeed contract a disease--which, guess what, is statistically more likely for women than for men. Risk that we will be left completely unsatisfied, even within what ought to be a happy marriage.<br />
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Our culture will of course never tell women the truth. Instead, it will continue to propagate the lie that sex is not only fundamentally necessary for a happy existence, but that it can conveniently and easily be divorced from its procreative function. <strong>This narrative also says that coming of age must include experimentation, liberation through pornography, </strong><a href="http://www.briannaheldt.com/2012/07/not-as-grey-as-you-think.html"><strong>erotica</strong></a><strong> and hook-ups, and that true freedom comes through doing whatever one wishes.</strong> Meanwhile they <em>won't</em> tell women that while we are certainly free to pursue these options, there is the very real possibility that something might go wrong, and that either way we are placing ourselves in a quite vulnerable position by ultimately allowing ourselves to be used by men.<br />
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<strong>To this I say that we simply must expect more of people.</strong> Because it is a sad commentary on society when we see human beings as nothing more than animals acting on their most basic of instincts, as opposed to souls created by a just and loving God. We must acknowledge the concept that dignity is rooted in choice and free will, and explain the world as it <em>is</em>--as opposed to how we want it to be. The biological and supernatural reality is that men and women have the beautiful and powerful ability to participate with God in the creation of new life, and God thus designed sexuality for marriage, with procreative and unitive purposes in mind. And womanhood is something to be celebrated, respected and revered, not something to disdain and attempt to erase through oppression and risk-filled methods.<br />
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No one can have it all, whatever "it" is, because in choosing one thing you are by default <em>not</em> choosing another. And so while you can certainly choose to ingest hormones with the hope of enjoying liberated sex, free from the shackles of motherhood, the fact remains that it does not come without opportunity cost. We simply <em>can't</em> have it all, on a personal <em>or </em>societal level.<br />
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<strong>And the author is right: so long as we are trying to do so, we really just can't win.</strong><br />
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<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/110/B3470AEEC7912900A9A91A86ED1A884D.png" style="border: 0px currentColor !important;" /></a>Brianna Heldthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224838737334231065noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14252293.post-60590476492311639242012-12-15T12:01:00.000-07:002012-12-15T12:01:10.705-07:00Humble reflectionsI really wasn't planning on writing about what happened yesterday. But I am, most likely because I've been doing a lot of reflecting, and sometimes it's helpful to further process those seeds of thought by putting words on a page. Even when they add little value to anyone but me.<br />
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Suffice it to say that I was, like all of you, positively devastated to return from our jovial homeschool-group Advent party to discover the news coming out of Connecticut. <br />
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There are just no words to describe the horror. No words at all.<br />
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So for me yesterday was a really strange dichotomy--going about my regular business of feeding and caring for my children, while processing through the awful events that left one town, and many hearts, broken. Meanwhile my kids, who are blissfully naive and don't know anything out-of-the-ordinary happened, had their usual day of playing and arguing and laughing and doing chores. Oblivious to what the rest of the nation was feeling.<br />
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The one thought I returned to throughout the day (because honestly, I could scarcely think of much else) was that there is, <em>without question</em>, pure evil at work in the world--and every once in awhile it breaks out into the open and shows its ugly face. And when I say evil, I don't mean a generalized or impersonal type of force. I mean Satan himself, and his hate for God, and his hate for God's children. I mean his desire to destruct and destroy.<br />
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And yet it's a kind of paradox, because even amidst the CNN photos of fearful children being evacuated and of adults crying in the parking lot, there were the photos of burly police officers tenderly holding wee little hands. There are the stories of brave teachers sacrificing their own lives to save young students. There is the fact that even if these dear childrens' souls have left earth, love for them lives on, as do their souls themselves. <br />
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It's a paradox precisely because the truth is that <strong>love always wins</strong>. Because <em>God</em> always wins. And just like the word evil is not some vague concept floating around the cosmos, neither is the idea of love. It is personal and real, manifest in a God who loves His children and the world He made. God always has the final word, and even in the darkest of moments He is somehow present and working. Even when it seems impossible. <br />
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I cannot imagine what the many parents and loved ones of the deceased students, teachers and administrators are experiencing, nor can I even begin to comprehend the difficult road ahead for the first responders and survivors. I have no words or answers--which would literally be nothing but trite noise coming from me--for these dear people. So I will simply offer up my prayers, and mourn with those who mourn.<br />
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<em>And</em> I will continue going about my own infinitesimally small duties, like loving my husband and my kids, and trusting in the hope that Jesus will one day set all things right. And even in the meantime evil will never have the last word, ever. No human being can completely destroy what God has made, and what God loves.<br />
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I believe I also have the responsibility to be extra thankful for--and humbled by--the beauty and good I do see all around me: like our Advent celebration yesterday amidst dear friends, and for our own brand of normal that looks more like crazy sometimes, and for my daughters' weekly girls' group at our parish that they attended last night, led by dear consecrated religious women. And for the fact that we have the Eucharist, and that Jesus is <em>really</em> <em>present</em> all around the world, at all times. Good amidst evil. Hope in brokenness. Love itself.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1ia-9YLKqZLLLnE0R7GdSB_Ep2YhyphenhyphenGa4eYzWJlIuHsV4NNkhetilxBeP_nbcDqmEgVulPPMJshY_MUxjYggJUC5OpCWHn4JWIEXvdBT8Omi3R4gX0DskU7CYrglJZThrgGeTh/s1600/onlysaintswillchangetheworld.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1ia-9YLKqZLLLnE0R7GdSB_Ep2YhyphenhyphenGa4eYzWJlIuHsV4NNkhetilxBeP_nbcDqmEgVulPPMJshY_MUxjYggJUC5OpCWHn4JWIEXvdBT8Omi3R4gX0DskU7CYrglJZThrgGeTh/s400/onlysaintswillchangetheworld.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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My girls came home from their group last night with brand-new, specially designed t-shirts. They were jumping up and down, beyond excited, and couldn't wait to show me. As I ohhhed and ahhhhed over the shirts in between dishing up bowls of soup for dinner, I was struck by how timely and true the message on the back is. "<em>Only saints will change the world.</em>" And my heart flooded with hope. <strong>Because no matter what is happening around us, whether in good times or bad, we are called to sainthood.</strong> To the long road of following Jesus and perservering to the end, whenever that may be. Tragedies and hate and pain cannot have the last word--and quite frankly, they are not worthy of it. And so even as our hearts break and tears fall, we must also commit to press on and not grow weary, continuing to cultivate and embrace the virtues of charity, hope, and faith. Putting one foot in front of the other. It is really all we can do. <br />
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And it is what our desperately hurting world needs.<br />
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Holy Innocents, pray for us.<br />
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And may God bless and keep all those affected by yesterday's events.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/110/B3470AEEC7912900A9A91A86ED1A884D.png" style="border: 0px currentColor !important;" /></a>Brianna Heldthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224838737334231065noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14252293.post-79392758041735598462012-12-11T12:29:00.001-07:002012-12-11T12:29:40.456-07:00Forming community<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiunYgFk5pADC8ErppBqJAqfR7NM71XqdcCy44xSyMkExymkuZvpjusU8S4QQ0gciMgud69ysyBOt3BSTJbeGqcslqDuTLHcRKSLUsL59_S91D8mUfQ1aByY1z3VJfY95CCgSXt/s1600/girlsatmass.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiunYgFk5pADC8ErppBqJAqfR7NM71XqdcCy44xSyMkExymkuZvpjusU8S4QQ0gciMgud69ysyBOt3BSTJbeGqcslqDuTLHcRKSLUsL59_S91D8mUfQ1aByY1z3VJfY95CCgSXt/s400/girlsatmass.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<em><span style="font-size: x-small;">Three of my daughters, after Mass, on the feast day of the Immaculate Conception</span></em></div>
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Recently my husband and I attended a large social event. There was nothing particularly unusual or out of the ordinary about it--there was the typical wide-eyed incredulousness anytime we answered the magic question of how many kids we have, but that's normal. We're used to it, and anyway, my six-months-pregnant belly was squeezed into a non-maternity dress that cut off my circulation. So comments about family size could not be avoided. <br />
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Of course at some point I found myself sitting back and considering social dynamics in general. And yes, this is what introverts-who-used-to-be-psychology-majors sit and do at parties. (You are more than welcome to join me sometime, although I must warn you that it <em>will</em> involve alternating between sitting silently, and making occasional and potentially-awkward small talk. But if you are a true student of social science, you will deem it worth it in the end.)<br />
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And my super-stealth observations confirmed that people, no matter who or where they are, are searching for connection. The concept of community is of course spoken of regularly in religious contexts, but it also plays an undeniably large (even if subtle) role in other settings too--the workplace, school, anywhere that has <em>people</em>. Because we all have some sort of compulsion to hear someone's story and experience friendship. This can be a major and often elusive challenge, but few ever truly give up--even us introverts (perhaps <em>especially</em> us introverts) need human connection.<br />
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<strong>So later at home, I found myself reflecting on how very, um, connection-<em>filled</em> and <em>full</em> my own life is</strong>--even if it differs dramatically from that of the average 31-year-old woman's, and makes for terribly dull small talk in between bites of hummus. There is of course noise, mess, and a very clear sense of my inability to do things well for longer than about two minutes--but there is a heck of a lot of joy and fun too. And good grief, there is community! Love, friendship, cooperation, shared goals and values. Mealtimes filled with conversation and laughter. A daddy who gives his kids piggyback-rides to bed, even at the end of a long day. Regular instruction in virtue and lots of opportunity for humble "I'm sorry's." <br />
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Community.<br />
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And speaking of community, Saturday was the feast day of the Immaculate Conception, and so we went to Mass. My oldest daughters had new-to-them dresses to wear, and my four big kids eagerly got all the little ones ready, dressed in their finest for the occasion. The kids were ecstatic in the car on the way over--a local bishop would be celebrating the Mass, and there was to be a reception afterwards. <strong>And as we joined a full room of fellow parishioners afterwards for food and celebration, it struck me how not only full and rich our <em>home</em> life is, but how positively wonderful our faith community is too.</strong> Everywhere we looked there were friends and people who are so very dear to us. My kids have great buddies to play with, even outside of church events. There are families with whom we have dinner and even take vacations. <br />
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Community.<br />
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And I don't take that for granted. At all. Because we don't <em>go</em> to Mass to make friends or to socialize, nor did we become Catholic in order to find people who think like us so we could take a trip together. But God has brought us into contact with some pretty fantastic people (which we could never have foreseen) and we continue to be richly blessed by them. It is a beautiful thing to be connected to so many by such a deep--and eternal--bond, and through whom we are continually encouraged.<br />
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This is something that I think the world-at-large craves desperately. True community, purpose, <em>life</em>. You can be in a room with 300 people and feel a tangible emptiness, or you can be with but one other person and feel connection, or sometimes it goes the oppositve way. Because everyone is looking for inclusion and for something around which to center and build community <em>on</em>. Some foundations are sturdier than others. Some are merely superficial.<br />
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<strong>So as I've been thinking about how genuine community really works, I've decided that it must first and foremost be <em>focused at home</em>--concentrated within the family--and then extend outward to ideally include parish life as well.</strong> Of course it's not easy to cultivate this sort of community within our families because there is, frankly, a lot of competition. Outside activities, time-consuming interests, and even the media subtly and easily infiltrate and dominate our world, replacing the natural rhythms of family life--shared meals around the table, praying together, natural conversation--with their own brand of noise and culture. But a flourishing <em>family</em> culture is worth fighting for, in part because strong families make for strong churches.<br />
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I read <a href="http://www.firstthings.com/onthesquare/2012/12/holy-impatience">this thought-provoking article yesterday</a> from Archbishop Charles Chaput. The piece ended with:<br />
<strong><br />Nothing is more powerful than the witness of Christian men and women loving God and serving God’s people; working together; and sharing lives of courage, joy, and friendship. In an age of aggressive individualism and the isolation it breeds, the new ecclesial movements offer two absolutely priceless gifts: <em>community and purpose.</em> </strong><br />
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Isn't that really it? Can't so much of what we seek be wrapped up in those two words,<em> community</em> and <em>purpose</em>? <br />
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Of course regularly attending church will not automatically translate into close friendships. It is an ideal to embrace and a goal worth working towards--especially for Catholics who truly are united in belief and purpose--but there are a lot of other factors at play. Sometimes there are seasons in life that are less conducive to being part of a community, or sometimes there simply aren't people to connect with. And that's okay. God has different things for different people at different times. <br />
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<strong>And regardless of the externals, the core building block of community (mirroring the Holy Trinity) is that of husband and wife--which naturally extends to children--and so we can strive to create beautiful and genuine connection in our homes.</strong> It will be imperfect and loud, chaotic and tense at times, but love is <em>always</em> work, and <em>always</em> in a state of becoming. And this community, rooted in charity and virtue, has the capacity to flourish and nourish, and extend outwards to others. <br />
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A full life is not necessarily one with lots of public recognition and accolades, or worldly success, or fascinating stories to tell around the shrimp platter. <br />
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Sometimes it is merely living in authentic and loving community--with my own crazy family.<br />
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<a href="http://www.mylivesignature.com/" target="_blank"><img src="http://signatures.mylivesignature.com/54488/110/B3470AEEC7912900A9A91A86ED1A884D.png" style="border: 0px currentColor !important;" /></a>Brianna Heldthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08224838737334231065noreply@blogger.com0