The Bravest Prayer I Know

All prayer is brave. We have the audacity to address the Lord of the Universe, to call Him Abba, Daddy. We leap into our Daddy's arms and renew this Covenant of love at every mass. Last Sunday, a dear friend gave a homily about how we are called to be true spiritual Olympiads. We have to train constantly to be ready for a the final test. We must develop our prayer life and virtues slowly, growing in spiritual muscle. I don't know about you, but I'm not too comfortable in a gym. 

The Litany of Humility is prayerful weightlifting. It's the hardest prayer I know. It's one of those you pray to be able to pray better. The author Cardinal Merry Del Val is now a Servant of God, on his way to being canonized a saint. He prayed this prayer daily after each mass. 

This prayer stretches my own desires upwards, away from myself, turns my focus away from myself and my own worries. 

"He must increase; I must decrease" (John 3:30)

What would my life look like if I didn't worry about what others thought but only lived for Jesus? What if I were free from all fear? Can I honestly add that someone who is especially challenging to be with at the end of each of the lines? I'll be honest, the thought is... hard. I still have a lot of time to put in the spiritual gym! Seriously, this is the bravest prayer I know.

"Not my will, but yours be done," (Luke 22:42)

The Litany of Humility by Rafael Cardinal Merry del Val

O Jesus! meek and humble of heart, Hear me.
From the desire of being esteemed,
Deliver me, Jesus (repeat after each line).
From the desire of being extolled ...
From the desire of being honored ...
From the desire of being praised ...
From the desire of being preferred to others...
From the desire of being consulted ...
From the desire of being approved ...
From the fear of being humiliated ...
From the fear of being despised...
From the fear of suffering rebukes ...
From the fear of being calumniated ...
From the fear of being forgotten ...
From the fear of being ridiculed ...
From the fear of being wronged ...
From the fear of being suspected ...

That, in the opinion of the world,
others may increase and I may decrease
Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it (repeat after each line).
That others may be chosen and I set aside ...
That others may be praised and I unnoticed ...
That others may be preferred to me in everything...
That others may become holier than I, provided that I may become as holy as I should…
From the desire of being loved...
That others may be loved more than I,
That others may be esteemed more than I ...




Danielle Rose wrote a beautiful musical adaption here if you wish to pray through song. 

"For freedom, Christ set us free; so stand firm and do not submit again to the yoke of slavery" (Galations 5:1). This prayer is for me all the things I didn't know to pray for, all the secret places I need grace so desperately. So that's what I'm praying. I'm praying to be set free. And it's scary. Prayer is for the brave-hearted, those walking the road of grace by faith. 

What is your brave prayer? 

Offering Up Sleep Deprivation: Finding a Tired Spirituality

I often think back to before I became a mother. And then I laugh really hard. I assumed so many things, one of which was that my children would inevitably sleep. My imaginary, angelic children would sleep soundly while I would accomplish all the chores, make a healthy dinner, exercise, pray, and improve my mind, probably bring in a lot of money by freelancing. As it turns out, sleep is not really my kids' favorite activity. I'm not looking for advice, but more to share about the struggles of sleepless parenthood from a spiritual perspective. 'Cause the struggle is real.

Something I did not realize about sleep deprivation is that how much energy it can take to focus on one thing. I often feel scattered, unable to focus, and fall asleep praying. So how is a tired mama (or papa) supposed to pray, to transcend the ordinary and find God in the sleeplessness? 

Offer up sleep deprivation as a sacrifice: 
Apparently many cradle Catholics grew up with an understand of redemptive suffering and being told to "offer up" various discomforts and problems. As a covert, it took several years for me to figure out how to offer up anything (and if this is something you're unfamiliar with I highly suggest this Catholic Mom article). I have since found peace and even joy in offering up physical pain and illness as a prayer. However, it was only four and half years into parenting (I know, I know, I'm dense. The Lord is also rolling His eyes) that I suddenly realized that sleep deprivation can be a form of redemptive suffering. Not only can I take care of my children's emotional and physical needs in the middle of the night, but I can offer up my suffering for their spiritual needs. I can also sing a hymn as they go to sleep or mumble a prayer if I'm awake enough.

Sleep Deprivation is a type of Suffering:
At first, I was very hesitant to call sleep deprivation suffering; that recognition was reserved only for serious problems, pain, and illnesses. This perspective led me to not give myself much grace throughout the day because what was I caterwauling about? Only a little lost sleep. I wondered how other people managed to focus or get anything done in life while I was really struggling. Then I learned that sleep deprivation is sometimes used as a form of torture. I realized that I was not being humble or realistic about my limitations. Humility is not a self-righteous, resentful martyrdom. True humility is the right understanding of self and God and how two are in relation. By acknowledging my personal challenge of sleeplessness, I was becoming more humble and living more truthfully. I like sleep, my kids don't, and I'm learning to live with that. I also realized that nighttime parenting is actually a gift of self, another type of laying down our lives for the sake of our child. 

Sleeplessness as a Prayer for Our Children:
Right after Jesus' instituted the Eucharist, he went out the garden to pray all night. The sacrificial passion of our Lord started in sleeplessness. His ultimate gift of self started with a sleepless night. I like to imagine that the  Blessed Mother also knows something of sleeplessness whether from Jesus' night waking as a child or when he was lost in Jerusalem. Our Heavenly Father sees our parenting and our offerings of a the difficulty parts and can use those prayers to help our children's spiritual lives. Just as we try to give our infants the best nutrition and care during those early days of their lives, we can offer up our parenting challenges as fodder for their spiritual lives.

Offering Up Nighttime Parenting:
This can be as simple as glancing upwards and breathing a wordless prayer of offering. Sometimes when you're so tired, there are not words left. Sometimes I end up mumbling "Hail Mary, full of grace... Hail Mary full of grace" unable to finish a single prayer. That's okay too. Or you can say something like the following:

"Lord, I offer you this sleepless night. I offer up my exhaustion. I offer myself as a watchman before dawn (Psalm 130:6), comforting and loving this little soul in the darkness. I offer my ineptitude tomorrow as I stumble through the day. I rely on you to give me the grace I need for the daylight and nighttime hours. I stand on your promise "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness." (1 Corinthians 12:9) May my children see your love in me even when I feel I have nothing left to give."

Our Lady of Fatima, Tantrums, and My Missionary Field

© José Luiz Bernardes Ribeiro via Wikipedia

Today, I had planned on prayerfully reflecting on Our Lady of Fatima and my continuing journey to Jesus through his Blessed Mother. I had intended on taking my children to a peaceful daily mass this AM, maybe saying the rosary as a family later if we got ambitious. But as they say: Moms make plans and kids laugh (or loose their freaking minds and cause absolute chaos)

This feast day is special to me. I learned about Our Lady of Fatima 16 years ago in RCIA. The adults were talking and my sister and I were watching this old video of the story of Fatima. And we were eating cake. Why, I have no idea. My memories are a little fuzzy on the why and big on the cake. And Mary.

I was particularly struck by the story of Fatima. The three peasant kids. The sun swirling in the sky. The fact that Lucia was still alive at that point and that the third secret had not yet been disclosed. The retired priest, Fr. Hannon, overheard my enthusiasm and offered to lend me some books. I arrived at the rectory the next week to find a huge bag of books and DVD's on the Blessed Mother and St. Therese. I credit Fr. Hannon for providing me the tools and encouragement to start my journey of loving the Blessed Mother and finding Jesus through Mary.

Back to this morning. Loving offspring #1 was having a challenging time focusing on finding his socks, putting on his shoes, actually everything that was not Legos. After ten minutes of much gritting of teeth (on my part) and running around talking about Legos (on his), he finally put on his shoes while singing me a ditty on controlling my anger from Daniel Tiger. Le sigh.

The morning truly crescendoed when he discovered which church we were attending mass at (our usual church) and he just started flailing, screaming, with a few tigerish roars thrown in for good measure (I guess Daniel Tiger was still on his mind). A lady in front of us angrily shushed us. I ended up bursting into tears before the penitential rite when we ungracefully departed.

I wasn't quite expecting a scene such as this picture 

But I also was not quite expecting an apocalyptic tantrum.

I angrily blasted marian hymns on the way to our next errand. Cause that's how angry Catholic mamas roll. I was embarrassed, frustrated, and angry. I was saddened that I could not share my faith in the way I wanted with my children. 

Then I thought of what Mary had communicated to the children of Fatima. She appeared to the children and taught them over time, not in one big chunk. Mary begged the children to offer everything as a sacrifice. She asked them to say the rosary. As far as I've read, the Blessed Mother did not angrily stomp around when the Jacinta, Francisco, and Lucia prayed a short-cut rosary only naming the prayers and not saying the whole thing. She is gentle and kind, slow to anger. Sound familiar?

In the end, the message of Fatima is a story of a mother gently loving and instructing her children. And my job as a mother is to be a little missionary to my brood, to follow the Blessed Mother's footsteps. Mary is not famous for spreading the Gospel to the ends of the Earth, but "simply" for mothering, raising our Savior and for always pointing us back to Jesus. To spread the message of Fatima means not to force-feed it to my children, but offer it gently and beautifully. Most of the apparitions of Mary make mention of how beautiful she is, how viewers can not look away. I want to offer truth, discipline, and love gently like our Blessed Mother. 

So after that very gentle reminder from Mary on teaching my children, we bought a tree, planted it, got very muddy from watering every living thing in the garden (including each other), and took a bubble bath. Now we are watching The Day the Sun Danced by CCC of America. A short, sweet cartoon about Our Lady of Fatima. My son may have even mentioned how he wants to see the Blessed Mother. 

The Pardon Prayer (given to the children by the Angel of Peace):

My God, I believe, I adore, I hope, and I love Thee! I ask pardon for those who do not believe, do not adore, do not hope and do not love Thee.

And we hope and pray we can share this belief and love with our children with love.