To the worried, to the overwhelmed, to the emotionally or spiritually exhausted, the honeyed eloquence of de Sales has a vivifying effect, buoying his readers against the spiritual assaults that frequently demoralize our efforts toward a deeper and more devoted relationship with Christ. In a season where mothers are often pushed to the brink of utter exhaustion and harried frenzy, Saint Francis emphasizes a spirit of patient calm.
When we read, we witness a drama being played out between the characters and their circumstances. This drama provokes questions in us – serious questions about the human experience – and we then realize that our life, too, is a drama. Great writers stir up questions that can be painful for us to face.
The mission of St. Frances and St. Jane was as attractive then, in the 1500s, as it is now, “that God loves us and wants to meet us in the ordinary circumstances of our lives – where we live, work, play and pray.” That everything matters. And I believe maybe He was trying to prove that to me by sending me a small horse in the sand.
The tidiness and aesthetic appeal of a dwelling does not instantaneously transform it into an authentic home. Though it’s hardly surprising that pleasure, beauty, calm, and happiness are incredibly alluring and, subsequently, tend to eclipse our focus on matters of eternal import, it is so vital that we, as Christians, recapture the significance of enduring through the trials and crosses of life for the sake of love.
A Reflection on the Consolation of Sacred Scripture by Nicki Johnston When the public celebration of Mass was suspended because of COVID, we informed our four young boys that we would be watching Mass online for a while. My four-year old looked up at me with his big blue eyes and asked, “But Mama, how…
I changed my mindset as to the role of reading in my family’s life. At some point, reading became something I did with my family rather than as an escape from them. Instead of trying to sneak in “me time” to read a book, I made reading integral to our home.
Wendell Berry’s Jayber Crow is a meandering, poetic homage to community, human relationship, and leisure in a bygone era of pastoral, small town living. It forces us to ask: what really is most important in this life?
Wendell Berry is not alone in elevating the sacredness of names. Every mother knows the tremendous honor and responsibility of choosing, along with her husband, a name for each child.
6th, in the heart of rural Kentucky, Carla, Colleen, and I convened around the kitchen table of the Berrys. Our conversation, which for me was a taste of heaven, lasted three hours. “Mr. Berry, I live in a small town, and for 30 years, I have wrestled with the limits of small-town life. You live in a remote area too. Do you ever think, ‘I have to get out of here; I need more?’ What is it like for you? Can you find what you need here”? I ventured to ask.
Mothers, view your vocation as a catalyst, not an impediment, for true leisure. Place yourselves with serene confidence in His care and constantly reflecting on His wondrous ways.