Just one moment more

A temptest of many misfortunes and temptations doth beset me, and no longer can I endure its ragings. But as Thou art the merciful mother of my Saviour and God, lift up Thy hands to Thy Son, beseeching Him to regard the bitter sorrow of my heart and to raise me up from the abyss of despair, who cry to Him: Alleluia!

O Most Holy Virgin and Mother, hearing the prophecy of the righteous Simeon: A sword shall pierce through Thine own soul, Thou didst keep all these sayings in Thy heart, understanding that the joy of a mother's heart over her children can be accompanied with much grief in this world.

Wherefore, as to one tried in everything and able to commiserate with a mother's sorrows, we cry out to Thee:

Rejoice, Thou that didst bear the Saviour Christ, the Joy of the world!

Rejoice, Thou that deliverest the world from sorrows!

Rejoice, Thou that didst endure the blasphemies and slanders hurled at Thy Son!

Rejoice, Thou that didst suffer together with Him through His suffering!

Rejoice, consolation of the sorrows of mothers!

Rejoice, gracious preservation of their children!

Rejoice, speedy help for us amid misfortunes!

Rejoice, correction of the erring!

Rejoice, guidance of the young!

Rejoice, mother of the orphaned!

Rejoice, help of the widows!

Rejoice, O Virgin Theotokos, full of Grace, Joy of all who sorrow!

(Akathist to The Joy of All Who Sorrow)

Happy Birthday Elias, your absence weighs heavily upon me on this day, tempered only by the knowledge that you are wrapped so closely in Her arms instead of mine. I selfishly desire you here, knowing you are experiencing Joy beyond my ability to fathom. Today you would have turned one, but instead you exist now in eternity. I love your unseen face to the point of aching sorrow, but I am thankful for the time I had you as my own brief though it was. I would have loved one moment more.

To my daughter

        Almost six months ago, my sweet little boy was born. It has been a wonderful few months getting to know him and recent events in my life made me hold close to the simple moments with this baby. Not that I did not with my other children, but my perspective was colored a bit and things that would have seemed overwhelming became a blessing I was grateful to have. As we begin to find our rhythm as a family with our newest addition, I am still struggling to lose the last few pounds I gained during pregnancy. I realize that it is only 5 pounds, but those 5 pounds mock me on the scale whenever I am brave enough to climb up there. There is a terror I feel about those 5 pounds and they have gotten me thinking lately.


       From my teen years on, I have struggled with my weight and my body image. I remember vividly comments said to me at no more than 10 or so years old that I had better be careful because I would have a tendency to gain weight in my rear end. To this day, every time I look in a mirror or try on clothing, that is the part of my body I am most aware of and uncomfortable with. As a young girl, I cried not knowing how to deal with a body I didn't understand. I was the awkward little sister with braces and glasses, desperately following my older, beautiful sister around wanting to just be noticed. I was told that my sister got the good looks. I was told my thighs were thick, my chest was flat and my nose was big. I have starved myself, literally, to the point where my body wasn't able to function the way it was made to. I was bulimic for years, which has caused me problems I didn't even think about back then. I have always felt like I am surrounded by beautiful people and easily fade into the backdrop. I wasn't exactly the most sought after young lady in my college days. College was in fact quite a lonely experience, which I attributed to my physical appearance not being striking enough to catch someone's attention. These days, as a mother for 5 years and wife for 10, I feel like I have finally learned how to "handle" my insecurities about weight. I cannot, do not, will not go on a diet. I was on a diet as young as 12 and the only purpose that served was to frustrate and humiliate me. My solution, after wading through all the wrong ones, was exercise and enjoying food. I got there too, where I felt like my body was in good shape, even though I was still uncomfortable with my "rear end". So now, I sit with 5 extra pounds that is holding on stubbornly, and I am hoping that is simply because I am still nursing and that once we are finished with that those few pounds will go away. But part of me starts to panic just a little bit, scared silly that I won't be able to get them to go away.

       I write this for my daughter. She is so beautiful and happy and innocent. I watch her playing right now around my feet and I want so desperately to spare her all that I walked through. I have tried so hard to eliminate the talk of losing weight, dieting or not liking the way I look for her sake. I have tried to instill in her the understanding that exercise is an enjoyable way to care for the body God gave us, and that food is meant to be enjoyed not feared. My prayer is that as her mother I can teach her to have a healthy relationship with food. One that doesn't set her up for a lifetime of fearing every bite she takes. I want to share with her my struggles through this, the things in my life that I can point to as triggers for the choices I made. It is my desperate hope that she will always see me trying to take care of my body, not lose weight, and that she will remember her time with me as one filled with good food! My dearest little girl, if I never am able to get back to where I was before your brother was born, I will consider those 5 pounds a reminder that your brother was, thank God, born healthy and strong. There are things more important in this world than the way we look. People will say some nasty things to you, and for the most part I don't think they mean them to be cruel. They just don't think about how their words could burrow into a little girl's heart and fester there. I pray I can be a comfort and strength to you as you grow and begin to face things you may not understand. I hope a boy never breaks your heart so desperately that you think you weren't thin enough to keep his attention. No matter what, no matter whether you fit the current standard of beauty or are the polar opposite, I pray that I am always able to direct your eyes inward to your soul. To remind you that God gave you the greatest gift, and that the body surrounding it was designed to honor Him. I grew up not understanding that, not seeing my body as the vessel of my soul and not realizing that we are intended to discipline these bodies on our way to salvation. Bow your neck in prayer,use your hands to light a candle and cross yourself, prostrate yourself before the cross, fast when the church calls you to and feast when it calls you to! Learn with me the lesson I am only just beginning to understand, that this body serves a temporary purpose in its imperfect state.

It's just a loose tooth....or is it?

There is a certain dignity in the simplistic. A quiet serenity to a life that lends itself to quiet moments forming memories. Most of my life I have allowed those beautiful opportunities to slip by me because I have a strong tendency to focus on my "to-do" list. The result is a beautifully spotless home, clean children and laundry(except for ironing, Lord have mercy how I hate ironing. There are ironing boards set aside in hell for the worst of the worst to spend eternity ironing all the laundry that was left when Jesus returns.),homemade meals that aren't too shabby and me....tired, spent and just frazzled. 3 months ago my youngest was born, and he is sweetly trying to teach his mother something she hasn't learned in 33 years: to take a deep breath and hold my family close, to calm down about the order of things and recognize that six months from now a brand new load of laundry will be waiting for me, but my children will all have changed in that short period of time.

To many of those around us, my family already leads a slow and uncomplicated life, but it has just seemed to me that all too quickly moments are filled up with things that are not important in the long term. A thought has been running through my head for the last few days, influenced heavily by the political/economic upheaval surrounding us and the fact that my children are growing up - Hold tight to your children. The foundation I and my husband lay during these formative years of theirs will greatly influence how they make decisions when they are on their own. Life is complicated and I believe with all my heart that the family has been under attack since the beginning of time. Children are pawns in anyone's game when they lose their footing in family. When my daughter came to me a few days ago with her very first loose tooth, I panicked a little. I do not exaggerate to say that it shocked me to realize she was at that point of development already. It made me look at how I am parenting my children and question myself as to whether I was using the short time I have with them wisely. I came to the conclusion that I have not been. Many days I find myself thinking how I just wish I could have a few minutes of quiet to myself, wish I could sleep in just one day, why can't I do this or that without the time consuming loading in and out of the car of three children. The list of my selfish thoughts goes on, and I am ashamed to say I have spent much of my experience as a parent looking forward to the hour or so I have to myself once my children are in bed for the night. Anyway, I believe there are forces, both spiritual and corporal, who are looking for any opportunity to snatch my children away in any way possible. I look at their sweet, innocent faces and I know my job is to protect them, to strengthen them, to love them and then one day let them go. Hold tight to your children. Now is the time I have to spend with them, being their mother because that is where God wants me to be. Not half way there, not there hoping for the end of the day so I can rest, but fully there at every moment as their mother. Hold tight to your children, purposefully loving and growing them without a divided spirit. And so, I pray for wisdom to choose wisely in the coming years, to sift through the things we should involve ourselves in and those which are simply too much. Hold tight to your children.

Through the Veil

Have you ever watched a newborn baby as they stare intently at something just beyond your reach? They seem to be truly watching something, at times smiling at whatever it is they see that we cannot. Some will scoff and say it is just a baby watching the light catch on an object, or shadows dancing or perhaps nothing at all. I know that is not true, and I believe with all my soul they see the angels and saints surrounding us. They possess a beautiful innocence that allows them to see things we jaded adults simply cannot. I love to watch Peter's eyes dance as he interacts with the angels. More than once in these last few weeks of getting to know him, I have realized it is not just the angels he is watching. My priest told me when my son Elias died, that the church sees these precious babies as saints. There is no doubt in my mind that he has at some point been the source of Peter's enchanting smiles. And more than once the emotion has overwhelmed me to know that while holding Peter, Elias is so close. It is as close as I can get to him, this side of the veil. Peter grants me, vicariously, a glimpse through his eyes through the veil.



Just yesterday, my newborn son and I joyfully returned to the church. Through the fog of caring for a newborn, while also trying to stabilize all the other facets of my life, I have found in my soul an aching to once again be a part of the life of the church. It is so strange to know we have journeyed through the Dormition fast, but I have been unable to participate fully. I have watched from afar as my children loaded up in the car with their Dad to head to church and wished I was going with them.

These first few weeks of my little boy's life outside of the womb have been a roller coaster of emotion. Love that makes your heart hurt, and at the same time sorrow that breaks your core in two. I look into the eyes of my son and see so many thoughts. As I stood in my church yesterday and watched my priest carry my son behind the altar, my mind raced trying to grapple with so many thoughts. Holding Peter, handing him over to Father, being so acutely aware of missing out on that moment with Elias. My joy upon bringing my new baby to church with me was so intricately intwined with thoughts of Elias. Watching Peter behind the altar, I found myself fighting back tears. I desperately did not want to be crying there in front of my entire church. I do not cry as much these days, but I know once those kinds of tears start they are so difficult to stop. As Father brought Peter back to me, he smiled and said he had wanted to keep Peter back there because Peter was smiling the whole time he was there. I know that veil which separates me from Elias was lifted once again for Peter, and my heart knows that as I was trying to hold back tears for my lost baby, he was greeting his brother right in front of me. I just couldn't see it.

Our son!

Our little family has finally been introduced to our newest member! Peter Elisha was born yesterday morning, one day before his scheduled c-section, and we are so excited to get to know him. I feel compelled to offer a brief and simple explanation for why we have chosen his name, so here goes.

Peter, for several reasons. He was born so very close to the feast of Saints Peter and Paul and I want so much to offer him a life in the church starting from his name. My daughter for some reason loves the name...I think it's because of King Peter from the Narnia books and that's okay by me! Also, I find the name to be a strong name for a little man to grow into.

Elisha has a little more sentimental attachment for me, and as I type this from my hospital bed I am reminded of where I was this time last year. I was pregnant with another little boy, who would soon be leaving us although I did not know that at the time. We lost our son on July 20th, 2010 and through a painful process and many tears we chose to name his Elias after the prophet commemorated on that same day. As I searched for names for Peter Elisha, I began flipping through my daily devotional book which lists the saints commemorated by the church each day. I came to June 14th and the reading was about the Prophet Elisha, who upon witnessing the fiery ascension into heaven of the Prophet Elias, took up his mantel and carried on. Not taking his place, but continuing his work after he was gone. It touched my heart so deeply, that I instantly wrapped myself around that name for this little boy. Not to burden him with the responsibility of Mommy's broken heart, but to always let him know that I see him as God's gift to a Mommy who needed a special little boy to continue on where his big brother no longer could.

Happy birthday Peter Elisha! We are so in love with you already and so grateful to be entrusted with your care. We know you have a big brother in heaven praying for you, and us, as we watch our family expand even while it is missing a little piece.

What a day

Feeling ever so sentimental today. Could be all the pregnancy hormones, or it just could be the awesome importance of this day in my family's makeup.


10 years ago today, a very young version of my husband(he was just 20) and a far more immature version of myself were married. At the time, we didn't have the sense to really be scared of the commitment we were making because I don't think you really know what marriage is going to be like until you are there. We had people who were supportive, and we had people who told us to our faces we shouldn't get married. I am so thankful we followed where God was leading us, so grateful to have been blessed with a partner who loves me simply for who I am. In all the years I have been married to this man, he has never tried to change or improve me, never picked apart at who I am or tried to make me over into something I am not. Given my ever fluctuating level of confidence, it is a blessing I didn't see coming to know he just loves me. He has the gift of humor and optimism, both of which my OCD personality desperately needs to maintain proper perspective on my life. He is patient where I am not and slow to anger while I rush in head first. He is strong when I am crying and gentle when I am tempted to rage. We are so absolutely different in so many wonderful ways, and when I walked down the aisle to marry him I had no idea how utterly frustrating and gratifiying those differences would be. We have walked through so much together, especially in this last year as our son slipped through our hands into eternity and there is no one else I would have wanted at my side during those moments. Happy anniversary baby!


Three years ago today, my husband and I were blessed to share our anniversary with our first son. I am amazed at how big he has grown and how quickly the years have gone. He is a precious little man who brings his Mommy so many smiles. It has been an honor to be entrusted with his care, and I look forward to watching him grow into a young man like his father.


As I sit here today, with my bulging belly keeping the laptop at a respectable distance, I am truly overwhelmed by all that has happened in my life in the past decade and all that is coming in the future. My delivery date is drawing ever closer, June 27th, and I am so excited to greet this new member of our family and show him his special place in our lives. Shortly after his arrival, my oldest child, my daughter, will turn 5. That seems so grown up to me. Together she and I will begin an adventure this fall called kindergarten. We are prayerful that our timid beginnings at homeschooling will be a blessing on our family.


So, I come full circle back to our anniversary. Thinking how our lives were changing so dramatically as our priest placed the crowns on our heads...and we didn't have a clue!

Pascha

Christ Is Risen!! He Is Risen Indeed!!

Sweet little girl whose first order of the day this Sunday morning was to make sure the altar cloth was changed from the purple of Lent to the white of celebration!