Pregnancy Centers in Baltimore and Montgomery County, Maryland now must advertise they do not provide abortions or birth control medications, while abortion clinics need not announce they kill the unborn.  The Arch Diocese of Washington DC has ceased providing foster care today because of the District of Columbia’s pending same-sex marriage law that will obligate all outside contractors dealing with the city to recognize gay couples. Catholic Charities adoption agencies were run out of Massachusetts for the same reason.  In California, Catholic hospitals are being pressured by the courts to provide emergency contraception and abortion or birth control services via insurance for their personnel.

The current proposed healthcare program will require that all tax payers, Catholic and otherwise pay for abortions, all manner of birth control and sterilization.  To say no to any of these things now is the equivalent of hate speech, rendering the writer/person/group/institution a non worthy entity with nothing worth hearing. It is pernicious to say that Catholic Charities in California, in Massachusetts, in DC, and Catholic hospitals have not engaged in following the beatitudes, caring for the sick, the lost, the forgotten and the dying; because they have not been willing to ignore their own value system; but have been willing to live it by serving someone else.  The same value system that led these same people who arrange adoption, manage foster care, care for the sick, that says these other things like abortion, birth control and non marital sex are not good.

One suspects, that if pressure were brought to bear on Catholic institutions by outside forces in the form of a discriminatory law suits, that the policies will be altered to meet demand, because the alternative is to close up shop. I suspect, and this is the Cassandra Canary in the Coal Mine tweeting when I say this, that there is an attempt to get the Church to cease its social justice outreach unless the social justice outreach trumps and silences all other values the Church might hold.

The Cloak of Christ cannot be divided, and I hope that the Church through its many people and services, will find a means of reestablishing itself as a source of support for the poor and sick and abandoned, even as its current means have been choked off by modern predators who do not love the Church or the poor, but seek to use the later to alter the former. Christ would heal the modern day leper of his illness but would also still say, “Go and sin no more.” and that would apply to all those who brought the leper before Jesus as well.

The pressures being brought to bear are removing the Church’s physical witness to the world, making them chose, “You can keep serving the poor, just denounce this value.   Otherwise, you can’t serve the poor and you don’t want all those people not to have what they need do you?”  But it is a false choice.  It is a choice designed to undermine either the Church’s physical witness, or moral authority or both.  Morality has been reduced from what I do that affects my relationship to God and others, to I can believe what I want as long as I ensure that my actions never affect anyone else’s decisions to You can’t believe THAT.

Fortunately, Catholicism isn’t about social justice, social justice is an outreach of the Church manifesting Christ’s love to the world.  Catholicism isn’t about equity, because all of us seek to be the least in the Kingdom of God, by serving the least here.   Catholicism ultimately, is only about one thing, the Eucharist. As long as we hold to that, everything else flows, everything else follows; and nothing the State or the Federal government does to limit the Church here on Earth can stop it.   Recently, I was in a conversation where someone asked why stay in the Catholic Church?  If you could find another iPod shuffle version of Christianity that took out the things you didn’t like, why stay?  Then I read story from a woman who wondered why she needed to go to mass. As I considered what would come of the Church if she were closed off from being able to act out the beatitudes as a result of ruthless and relentless legislation designed to demand that values be stripped away from service, the answer in my head was the same for all three situations.  The reason to stay in the Church, the reason to go to Church, and the reason not to worry about the world’s many attempts to destroy her was the same, the Church is not defined except by its devotion to and understanding of and love for one thing; “It is the Eucharist.”



Copyright 2010 Sherry Antonetti

The stereotypical self induced guilt that often gets slapped on a Catholic’s head like a scarlet “C” is a misunderstanding of what we’re supposed to discover by engaging in self reflection and conscious examination.  Every time we begin to look at our relationship with God, we can see how it could be, could have been and should be deeper.  We all know our own temptations and rationales for our own moments when we allow ourselves this one exception. “God will understand.” And He does, but do we understand what we are asking when we ask for that one exception, that one sin we cling to so fiercely?

Prayer and fasting, mass and penance, the point of all of these exercises is to break past the perpetual spiritual plateauing that “good people” mistake for progress.  Modern thinking subscribes to the theory that “I’m a good person ergo, I’ve arrived.” but a soul that embraces that sort of thinking ceases to seek, it stops and atrophies in its contentment which eventually devolves to bored self satisfaction.  It is a common error for anyone who can look at their life and say, “I’m praying. I’m going to mass. I receive the sacraments. I’m taking care of the kids or my spouse.”  God always asks of us more than we would of ourselves because He knows and loves us deeper than we do ourselves. Christ doesn’t say, “Take time for you.” and “Be sure to get in some “Me time.”  He says, “Take up your cross and follow me.” He always seeks our whole hearts in all things.

To love an infinite God is to want to love infinitely.  To do that, one must never cease increasing one’s willingness to love.   To love without limits means constantly knocking away the walls that sin and one’s own self and the age and the culture and others would put into place as reasonable.   It means dropping the fishing nets to run towards Jesus, it means being willing to step out onto the water; it means filling the cisterns with water; doing whatever He tells you, and passing out the loaves and fishes that were once only five and two.  It means walking all the way to the foot of the cross and returning to the tomb on Easter.  It means seeking God in all people and loving Him in all the things we say and do every day.

We’ve only taken our first step into the desert, and every subsequent step forward is an act of will, of obedience . The great gift of Lent is it can bring us to a place we would not seek absent these forty days.  Being fallen, we constantly seek to carve out a bit of ourselves that is not for anyone else, even God. These forty days can make our hearts for God alone and that takes courage to even pursue.  Fortunately, Christ also says, “Be not afraid.” And so we know, we are never alone in this 40 day desert. Walk on.

Copyright 2010 Sherry Antonetti

Everywhere I felt distracted.  Everywhere, I felt I wasn’t giving the time and attention necessary; and the days got harder and harder and harder.   Cooking the meals; doing the dishes and even reading the stories, there was something of me holding back, being unwilling to give or be present because as I rationalized, I was doing so much.  It was true in all things, everywhere, I was restless; everywhere I was somewhere else.  For a time, I told myself I was being too critical and to relax and ignore it.  After all, I was still praying.  I was still doing. But the prayers done on the fly while still a gift, were not done mindfully; and the tasks done on the fly, while still acts of service, were not done mindfully.  I was cheating myself of the full presence of God and others by being distracted.

Our parish priest suggested kneeling or going off into a room and light a candle to bring about a more prayerful mindset.  I knew already that this was the correct advise because my brain came up with a thousand reasons not to do as he said.  I could hear with all those excuses of what I could be doing if I just prayed as I worked, “Martha, you are anxious about many things.”  And I was.  “How could I subdivide my time even more?” I wondered. The answer was, I wasn’t supposed to subdivide at all.

“Could I not stay?” I could hear.  It wasn’t harsh in my head; it was more like a request, an invitation.  Could I go on a date with God daily or not?  If I would learn to be fully present to those I loved, shouldn’t I begin by being fully present to the One who is love?  This was the spiritual food for which I had been starving but unable or rather unwilling, to seek.

The first stint lasted only seven and a half minutes; but tomorrow, I’m setting the timer for ten.

Copyright 2010 Sherry Antonetti

The mental discipline necessary to refuse an appetite or to add a duty, allows us to become more what we ought to be.  The closest parallel I can draw outside the spiritual realm is to exercise, which makes us stronger and healthier and more capable while at the same time, shapes us and even in some cases, reduces our overall mass.  We become more the person we aspire to be, even as we become less of a person physically.  If we can remember how hard it was as a child to learn to skate or read or write in cursive, we can understand that the process shapes us as much as the mastering of the skill itself, in physical, mental and spiritual disciplines.

Another friend one time explained that giving up something during Lent wasn’t necessary since they prayed regularly.  Again, the athlete training metaphor holds.  People who stay in regular shape will occasionally do a marathon or other big event that prevents physical atrophy and mental boredom in the exercise routine.  Lent is that marathon, designed to push us even if we pray and fast and do penance regularly.  God wants all of us to be saints, not just in good shape, but saints.

We need the season of Lent.  Giving up chocolate, fasting or abstaining, adding prayers to one’s daily routine, all of it helps brings about this gift of the Holy Spirit.  Everyone knows the basics of how to diet, how to budget, how to stay organized, even, how to pray.  Few of us can sustain the discipline necessary for long term success in these areas without outside support.  Lent is the external outside support created to allow us to exercise our spiritual muscles beyond what we otherwise might.  It is a seasonal gift of the Church, providing us with opportunity to grow if we are willing to embrace the spirit of the season.

Last Week, having to cancel everything because of the weather, my week became still.  Six appointments and three preplanned evening activities had threatened to crowd any and all peace out of the week and now, there was a big blank on the calendar.  It was the answer to an unuttered prayer.   The snow, the clogged drive way, all of it meant, things would have to wait.  Even better, waiting would be alright. God’s forced winter break made my cluttered schedule a barren dessert.  The joy found in having that forced slow down, would have been mine if I had said no to a few activities without the snow enforced stoppage, but I lacked the discipline to cut back on my own.

Going out into the dessert to discover truth about ones’ self is what the Lenten season is all about.  Being human, we often resist going out into the dessert, even knowing how beneficial the spiritual retreat might be.  What we forget, is out in that dessert somewhere, is the oasis our spirits need.  Enjoy these sacred forty days.  They are better than chocolate.

Copyright 2010 Sherry Antonetti

God is love.  Heaven will be being nestled in that love and really knowing it and returning it fully.  When we lose someone, we pine for that nestled love we could approximate on this Earth.

We know God has prepared a place for each of us when we finally start walking back on the road to home, and that He will kill the fatted calf and host us with the finest bread when we arrive.  God waits eagerly for each of us to seek him, to cooperate with His will, and find our way home. He showers grace on our every day of living to pull us towards Him and on that final day to help us in our littleness.   Those we love who have died, are still even more deeply nestled in love with us than they were on Earth, because they can love us now more perfectly than they could here.   They can pray for us and be part of that road that leads us home, in death and after death more than they could perhaps in life.

The thin curtain that hides our Beloved and our loved ones is there to deepen our faith.  Because we cannot yet love perfectly, we cannot endure yet the scrutiny we would give our own selves if faced with perfect love.  We would fall to our knees like Peter and say “Depart from me, I am a sinful man.” if faced with Christ in our midst directly.    We would understand as Mother Teresa did, that we were nothing.  Yet God loves our nothingness.  It is why He calls us to love what we cannot fully see in the form of the Eucharist.  Likewise, the unborn or the dead all invite us to love as God loves, perfectly without recompense, without limits, with our whole hearts.  We do not pierce the thin curtain between life and death or between seen and unseen, but our love like His love, does.

Pray for my friend, for her family and for the repose of the soul of her Father. Pray that all the souls alive and departed eventually seek to be nestled in perfect love.  Not one sheep lost.


Copyright 2010 Sherry Antonetti

From the Washington Post Jan 27th:

“CBS’s acceptance of the advocacy ad seems to mark a shift in network policy against airing Super Bowl commercials with divisive political or social content.”An ad that uses sports to divide rather than to unite has no place in the biggest national sports event of the year — an event designed to bring Americans together,” Jehmu Greene, president of the Women’s Media Center, said in a statement.”

Personal snark, “I’m sure Greene and other members of the Women’s Media Center just love to fire up the grill, cook some ribs, wings and pour cold ones while they watch the Super Bowl.”

Now I love football. I like the Super Bowl and I admit I’d be upset if a Pro-abortion video came on during the game so I guess I can understand the ire. But banning ads and topics for ads because they are upsetting to some, smacks of intolerance, of a secular political censorship designed to dampen dissent, deny the existence or validity of alternative view points, and strikes me as a dangerous path for a network. If one witness is that powerful that it cannot be seen, no wonder the media never covers the March for Life as anything other than “There’s an event that will affect your commute.”

Some (Joy Behar, in particular) tried to argue that Tebow could have been an awful person, and thus the fact that he is a talented and reverent football player should not be given any credence as an argument against abortion. Life may be about making choices, but the capacity to be, shouldn’t be simply the whims of one over another, whether in war, in a laboratory, in a camp or in a doctor’s office. The very existence of the possible as of yet unaired spot has already reminded people that abortion does limit the possibilities that life brings.

The arguments that having a controversial ad in the midst of a social cultural event like the Super Bowl detract from the experience smack of hypocrisy. Go Daddy Girl, Viagra and Beer for every occasion is fine family fare but a person who lived out their faith life and is willing to put dollars on the line to say that this is a good that came from being unafraid to be Pro-Life for a mere 30 seconds; that’s worth a boycott, that’s worth screaming and shouting.

Now, imagine all the 50 Million since Roe vs. Wade who were denied the opportunity to change the world. 1.37 Million Each year in the United States never got to have 30 seconds. That translates to 3,700 abortions a day.

One brave witness to life provoked all this with 30 seconds. Imagine what the 3,700 of just Superbowl Sunday would have done with lifetimes.



Copyright 2010 Sherry Antonetti

For the next 11 years, toddlers continued to give me my out from signing up or even considering participation. Then my oldest entered 8th grade and I realized, he would make it to the march before me. I contented myself with having a proxy. Three years later, my daughter entered 8th grade. I would have two proxies.

But my 4th grader has a unique nature. Peter’s spirit is like a rich vein of precious ore surrounded by massive amounts of heavy unyielding rock. I spend a lot of time going round and round with him, trying to blast through the rock. There is no child for whom I spend more time talking to God or going to confession to work on my patience, my charity and my endurance. He honestly knows how to push every button with everyone, every time. But sometimes, the ore reveals itself unbidden. He asked at the beginning of the week, “Are we going to the march?” I demurred without answering.

He asked again two days ago. I said “I’d watch the weather to decide.”

Today, I woke up to him and his sister having a serious spat. It put me in the wrong place immediately. After getting everything sorted out, I began the routine of breakfast for everyone and checked my email. A friend had written a beautiful piece on her journal about the value and beauty of life and witness we are all called to show to the world to keep all children sacred. It was all the more poignant because she had lost her youngest to cancer back on October 14th. Her daughter would have been three two days ago.

Peter asked quietly, “Are we going?”

And the answer had to be yes. It was ten thirty. We weren’t dressed. We weren’t packed. It was starting to sleet but the answer was yes. My silver ore child made peanut butter sandwiches and baloney ones, and packed apples and oranges. The sister he’d fought with, helped. I swung through getting the littles dressed. We roused the 12 year old who wasn’t really moving yet to get herself going, packed the car and loaded the stroller.

All the time, I threw occasional prayer demands at the various saints. “If we’re going to do this…we’re going to need help.” I explained. “Saint Rita of Cassia, patroness of the impossible task, this qualifies.” “Saint Anthony, help us find a way to get there and be on time.” I rattled off my stresses, my worries. Thousands of people and me. What if it’s freezing? What if I lost one? How would I find them? What if one needed to go the bathroom? I thought of all the countless ways things could go wrong as I gathered up as many gloves as I could. They wouldn’t match but they’d be warm.

I’d also read a piece just that morning in the Catholic Standard asking us to meditate on the gifts of the Holy Spirit, the “power” of the Holy Spirit, and knew that this moment, like saying yes to the first child, to every child, was one of those moments where one had to shut one’s mind eyes and free fall with God.

We went.

The sleet stopped and the sun came out. No one needed the facilities. No one got lost. There were squabbles. We saw priests and nuns and handicapped and young and old, long haired surfer type dudes from Florida, four bus loads from New Orleans, a couple with seven from Michigan, a mother of a daughter with Down Syndrome from Ohio. Countless people stopped to help us with the stroller or to hand back “piggy” who my daughter insisted come with us, or to count them or to ask how many. One guy took a picture. Paul, my youngest was blessed by almost every priest we passed, including a Bishop Benjamin who told me he had three siblings with disabilities.  Peter handed out the sandwiches and held a sign until he got tired of it and started using it to tap his sisters on the head.

Pushing the double stroller through the mud and ordering my walkers to keep their hands on my shoulder, I wondered what my kids would take away.  My first thought ran to “their mother was nuts.  It’s crowded. I’m cold. I’m hungry.  Why aren’t we riding the carousel?”  My resolve at the march felt silly in light of the logistics.  Then, the kids saw a banner held by two parents of a child with disabilities.

It read “90% of all Down Syndrome children are killed in the Womb through Abortion!”  Even the seven year old looked at me and asked, “Is that true?”  “Yes. It’s very sad.”

I could feel my sons and daughters close ranks with their baby brother at the thought.  The speaker asked everyone to say the Hail Mary and the march started.  We had come and witnessed but I felt I’d asked all I could of them. I told them we were going back to the car. Everyone cooperated with such lightning compliance, I knew it was the right call.

Walking back from the Washington mall, my kindergarten son chased squirrels, everyone remembered they were hungry and a few complained about all the walking they’d done. We went to a favorite chili bar for large late lunch. I thanked Peter for asking and asking and asking and he gave me one of those rare million dollar pleased looks he has, as he softly mumbled “You’re welcome.” and gulped down his cheese burger and chocolate milk. They each talked about what they liked best. Of course for the five year old, it was chasing the squirrel.

Having gone and survived, I know that this will happen again and again. It will be part of the year because all the excuses have been taken away. I know it will happen because my richly veined son Peter loves it.  Also, their mother is nuts.

Going to the march was like exercise or prayer or sacraments or anything else in life that is good.  I often reject the opportunities to be present, for things less meaningful, less important.  Grace waits for all of us to come around.  I can’t tell you how often I don’t want it, I want to refuse it, put it off or ignore it as long as possible.  But God waits.  Once we go and say or do what God asks, we discover it was greater and bigger and more beautiful than we could have imagined, and we don’t have the excuse anymore.  We wonder why we put up such a fight in the first place.  It’s all that hard rock surrounding the ore.

Thanks Peter for being such a rich vein, and reminding me that all of this life is supposed to be a freefall with God.

Copyright 2010 Sherry Antonetti

The March for Life is Friday, January 22, 2010.  Rereading of his speeches and a remembering of what all he did to change the landscape of society that had so long languished in segregation, whites and blacks trapped by racism in seemingly intractable roles; it inspires for the march that will take place at the end of this week.

Living just outside of DC, we usually get better coverage than most of the country about protests and marches in the Capital, though the March for Life has as of late, received short shrift from the news outlets.  Every year we are reminded that the fight is over, that it’s very cold outside, that it’s the law of the land, that absent Roe vs. Wade, women would be slaughtered with coat hangers by their own desperation to end pregnancies.  Every year we are scolded for the graphic pictures of slaughtered unborn, declared backwards, preachy, ignorant, cruel, heartless to the frightened and young, merciless to the poor and indifferent to the suffering of the abused.  Every year people who oppose abortion are labeled extremist and wrongheaded all because we think that the innocent ought to be afforded the same protections of the law as everyone else; all because we think human life ought to be safeguarded by more than an individual woman’s benevolence towards her child.   Every year, we are encouraged to stop speaking out, to stop imposing our morality, to stop thinking about abortion, to just get over it and let everyone decide for themselves.

Despite the push by NARAL and Planned Parenthood, despite the promises of politicians who control the House, Senate and Executive branch; there have been minor victories for those in the pro-life camp.  Just this past year, Dr. Louise Britton, former National Cancer Institute’s chief of the Environmental Epidemiology Branch, Division of Cancer Epidemiology and Genetics, reexamined her own data after years of pretending there was no link between abortion, birth control and a specific type of aggressive breast cancer and recanted; revealing a 40% increased risk to women under 40.  Abby Johnson’s resignation as a director of Planned Parenthood in light of the unavoidable truth of an abortion done while viewed through an ultrasound was another blow to those who pretend abortion does nothing of significance.  The Stupak amendment was passed preventing abortion from being federally funded in the house version of the yet to be signed into law healthcare bill.  Public attitudes have begun to alter. Recent surveys indicate the nation is more pro-life than ever before; that the expediency of abortion is no longer as compelling an argument as people come forward to discuss how they’ve suffered since.

We know it is the law of the land.  We know that many disagree with us for all sorts of reasons. We also know the laws are unjust to the innocent, to everyone involved in the process of procuring an abortion.  We know the laws can only be changed if we tirelessly march and seek to change hearts and minds by example.  We do not know the outcome.  We only know we must keep trying.  We must keep speaking.     Looking back at the Dr. King video, I’m sure there were many unable to attend that historic speech, who felt kinship upon hearing his words, who were present in spirit with those able to attend.

Friday, January 22, 2010, there will be many of us scanning the internet or listening to the news to hear about the speeches and March for Life.  Everyone who has ever spoken out against the evil of abortion is a part of that march. Everyone who has ever prayed and petitioned Mary for the end of this international scourge is a part of the march.  Everyone who has ever made room in the inn by offering shelter or aid to a pregnant mother, or who has witnessed quietly by their own lives, by their own parenting, is part of the march.   Everyone who has ever said “No.” to the offering of such services for any reason is part of the march.   So Friday, if you’re home feeding the toddlers or at work filling out reports, pray with those able to walk the streets to the Supreme Court and hope that ever more hearts are changed.  See you at the march.



Copyright 2010 Sherry Antonetti

Suffering is something we do not tolerate well. God knows we are little. Over and over and over again, Christ heals all who come to him and asks. He heals the sick, He cures the blind, He raises the dead, He forgives the sins and calms the seas. Christ is moved with pity for us in our littleness, he came to remove all our pain. Even as he cures the ten lepers, only one recognizes the source of his aid and grace. Often, we do not seek meaning for our sufferings great and small, only an ending of them.

This does not mean God is sending suffering or that we should be thinking, “Bring it on,” only that God is using suffering to His own good ends, to reveal the depth of his love, and the depth of love present in the World as indicated by how His children respond. The Good Samaritan is only revealed by his actions for the unjustly beaten, robbed and injured victim. The sufferings of the man lying on the side of the road and ignored by the first two that walked by, again, reveal who is loving his neighbor as himself.

If we trust that God is, that God loves, we can know that God has a perfect plan for us; then all suffering is resplendent with the opportunity for grace. If we really trust that God is, that God loves and thus God has a perfect plan to bring us to Him, we can go forward with great courage and a quivering joy into the harshest of worlds with the most unfriendly of people or the most difficult of situations.

Why does our Lord, our Loving Savior permit us to endure suffering and death? “So that the glory of God may be revealed.” God uses the sorrowful mysteries of the cross to bring us to Him, to bring us closer, to crack open our hearts. It is comforting to know, not one moment of our lives or of our pain is ever ignored or unknown by our Lord, and that all He wants for us, is peace in our Hearts.

Copyright 2010 Sherry Antonetti

Thank goodness for my other son, who very deftly explained, “He didn’t take your spot. He took mine and I took his.” Pew Tetris isn’t for the faint of heart. The dynamics of place settings rival a state dinner or an analytic question on the GRE.  She then asked in a loud voice, “Am I being good enough to get donuts?”

Again, I felt as if I was taking a standardized test.  If I said yes, she would view every subsequent action she took as mitigated by that admission against interest. If I said no, I would  hear heart wrenching caterwauls from the same person for the rest of mass. “We’ll see.” was the weak response I mumbled to put her off for a while.  D: None of the above.

Midway through the liturgy, I got an urgent memo: “I’m tired.” from one who should know better. Another daughter whispered “When is this over?” during the song for the offeratory. Fortunately, the primary clock watcher couldn’t actually tell time so I said, we’re more than half way through the mass and that satisfied.

I don’t know if other parents use the responses of the laity in the mass as editorial comments but it seems God understood we would need to occasionally talk in code to our children, to mentally cuff their noses while everything appears perfectly orderly.

“LEAD US NOT INTO TEMPTATION.” “PEACE be with you.” and “Lord have MERCY.” often get special emphasis in our family, such that some of our kids think you are supposed to raise your volume at that point in the prayer. I do not know the lady behind me, but she was overcome with a fit of giggles because of all the double meanings being conveyed through everyday responses.

Still, it’s hard to get too frustrated with these people who don’t quite know how to be present at mass because I too sit there distracted as I try to direct one to wait until after to go to the bathroom, another not to play with the kneelers and a third that he has no excuse for me not hearing his voice when 1) he can read 2) he has the loudest voice at home and anywhere else and 3)I can see his lips moving but no sound is issuing forth.  I too was not fully present, trying to remember our envelope number and scribble a check during the song, making sure we have all 22 gloves and 11 coats and my purse. We came back from communion and I kept searching the aisles, looking at all the faces, wanting to see in them what I knew they could not find when they saw me.  The distraction from the moment was not limited to my family.

Here we were, two days from Christmas. We had just received communion. We ought to be lighter, brighter for the gift of the Eucharist. We ought to not be bothered by the coughing in the front or the music coming in late or the occasional opening of the Church doors in the back. We ought to be mirrors of the star that lit that night so long ago. We ought to be awash in light for others. Yet everyone looked worn and tired.

So when my four year old clapped her hands loudly for the priest who finished the announcements, I felt grateful for the reminder via my daughter of how we are to regard this gift of the liturgy, of celebrating the mass and having it mean what it means. For a moment, she revealed how all of this was to be understood and was in rapt attention in a way most of us would have to work to find within ourselves. We want to be in awe of God.  We need the star and the Angels and the bells and the color and the light and the word and the food and the weekly reminders to cut through our distractedness.  We cannot as creatures, bear in our hearts and minds the reality of God well or long because of our weakness.  Our original sin and all our foibles have the near endless capacity to divert us from what is truely important.  We lapse easily into sleep like the apostles when God is closest.  We have to deliberately chose to hold onto that intimate moment with Christ, like Mary holding her baby.  For a moment, I could feel that singular closeness and the world fell away.

Then we went back to, “That’s my spot.” and I was reminded of why we say, “Lord, we are not worthy to receive you.” Thankfully, He says the word and all is healed.

Merry Christmas!

Copyright 2009 Sherry Antonetti

“What are you doing here?  What do you want?”

“I want you to meet my friend.” He snorted.

“Who?”

“My friend the Griffin.” He explained and I gasped as a large tawny and black feathered half eagle half lion creature landed next to my car with a sudden pounce.  His body was the size of my car and his beauty both strong and elegant.  He screeched a moment and then eyed me with suspicion.

“Does he talk?”

“Not to people.  Only fellow Unicorns.”

“Fellow Unicorns?  But he’s a griffin.  Even you said he was a griffin.”   The Griffin narrowed his eyes at me and screeched again.

“He doesn’t like when people call him that.  He even eats some dissenters.  He wants to be called a Unicorn.”

“But he’s not.”

“That doesn’t matter. That’s what he wants.”

“But that doesn’t change the language.  We don’t just decide something means something else just because someone screeches if it doesn’t.   We don’t just proclaim all flavors are chocolate because all flavors aren’t chocolate.”

“You don’t?” The Unicorn blinked.   “Define marriage.”

“A sacrament between a man and a woman, legally and spiritually binding them to each other for the rest of their lives…or a least we hope.”

“Hope?” The Unicorn looked at me, he could stare in a way that made one feel menaced only by thought.

“Well, divorces happen.  We say the vows hoping we can live them out.”

“But people are moving to change what marriage means.  It’s been around for almost 4000 years.  Why are they wanting it changed?”

“Because people think that legally, a relationship between a man and woman is no different than a relationship between a woman and a woman and a man and a man.”

“So a Griffin can be a Unicorn and all flavors can be called Chocolate.” The Unicorn snorted.

“You’re being simplistic.  What is happening is that marriage in the legal sense, has been pushed down in status to be the same as co-habitation, and as such, if marriage is the same as simply consensual sex and living together, then the Who involved in the consensual sex ceases to matter as long as the two in question agree to call themselves a couple.”

“So marriage shall mean less and less until it means nothing at all.  A fish is a dog is a lion is a rock is a train.” and he motioned to the passing cars.  “All words mean what we wish, no more, no less, and are subject to the fads, fashions, passions and whims of the day.” The Unicorn nodded to his friend.  “See, she understands that you’re a Unicorn and not a Griffin.  A marriage is an arrangement between whomever and whomever for however long both parties deem it necessary.   Why bother?”

“But the counter argument is that those who hold marriage to mean something, to be sacred and special and a unique arrangement between a man, a woman and God are being called bigots and homophobes for fighting this, for even bringing it up.”

“And because you think words mean something, those words hurt.”  The Unicorn shook his head.  “Words matter. Words hurt.  Words mean something.”  I said.  “But we shouldn’t have to argue that there is something unique and special and vocational and sacramental about marriage, we should just know that, the same way I know that your friend is a Griffin.”

The Griffin let out a screech.  It hurt my ears.

“You hurt his feelings.” The Unicorn chided, “but he’ll get over it and keep insisting, because to him, reality is malleable and thus can be transformed when we decide to reassign meaning via language.  But you and I know that words are powerful things, capable of much mischief if allowed to mean anything and nothing.”

“Tell your friend the Griffin, I think he’s beautiful.” And then I considered my next few words carefully, “for a Griffin.”

“I’ll do that.” There was a trace of smile in his voice.  “You get home now.  And save me one of the last tomatoes from your garden, winter is coming and I’ll miss them.”  He clopped off towards the park and the train finally finished passing and I could go home.

Copyright 2009 Sherry Antonetti

We ought to have been asking this more.  We ought to have asked this whenever our government proposed war or engaged in trade with a nation well documented in severe human rights violations.  We ought to have been demanding that our government reflect more of our values and more than mere lip service at ceremonial times when our traditions provide a good photo back drop.  Maybe we always were helping to push forward wrong acts whenever we have financed a war or turned a blind eye to the evils of another regime because of the resources we wanted.  No government can be completely good, but funding embryonic stem cell research and abortion would be yet another step in the wrong direction and larger in scale and scope.  Maybe we should have yelled then more, but we are awake now, and ought to start speaking up and soon.

Current proposed legislation will have us fund tax paid abortion in Washington DC and existing health care reform acts have conflicting proposals that will have to be reconciled.  Given the public and political statements given by the Executive and legislative branch, tax payer funded abortion and birth control remain a real possibility.

If the current administration and Congress go forward with abortion as a benefit, we will be left with the unpleasant knowledge that we collude with our government to slaughter millions of holy innocents with every tax dollar.  We will knowledgeable in a way we perhaps never have been before, about the real nature of sin.  The actions of all these private individuals who chose to abort their children will now have a public effect, as we will be  enablers of evil.  It is much harder to speak out against what one finances with full knowledge.   The obedient soldiers of Herod at the time of the birth of Christ could not claim to be unaware that they were killing children. They also would have had a hard time refusing to carry out the order, as they were paid for their services.

If we receive government health care for our families, our authority to speak out against a specific benefit will be considered simply a preference and not a morally clear stance that ought to be universal and not simply person specific.  Those in favor of funding such benefits will be able to say, “We won’t have to take advantage of the benefit.  We just have to pay for it to be available.”   That little nuance of agreement will satisfy the legislators and their constituencies that elected them, and that fig leaf of a defense will be considered a legitimate cover for any troubling moral scruples.

What then is a pro-life person to do?  Working to remove people from office who pass the bill so as to have more Pro-life legislators will not automatically change existing law, and working to repeal the law will be much harder than opposing it before it exists. So stay informed.  Learn the numbers of your Senators and Representatives, at both the federal and state level and call.  Send emails, send faxes and send letters. Read that section of the paper you’ld rather not and when the opportunity presents itself, speak up and speak out and speak often.  It takes as much courage to witness in the school parking lot as it does in the workplace and over the phone with aides and receptionists for elected officials.  Pray for all of them, and for all of us that God will move enough hearts.

What do the current laws proposed mean?

If we know something is evil and our treasure will be used to support it, what does it mean if we say we’re pro-life?  It means, it is time to get to work.

Copyright 2009 Sherry Antonetti

Translation: Pregnancy centers that don’t provide abortions should advise women to consider going elsewhere. The regulation would impose a fine of up to $750 per day for not doing so.  The bill singles out pregnancy resource centers only because of their pro-life mission. If approved, the regulation would impose government-compelled speech on a non-profit organization that does not receive government funding simply because the organization declines to provide or refer for abortion. The regulation does not apply to “family planning” clinics, which the County government funds, or to abortion clinics. Translation: abortion mills don’t have to hang up a sign saying, “Warning, We kill children with acid or forceps and scissors for money.” It is one sided and intentionally so.

I wrote my council and received a response.  “Under the resolution, CPCs would be required to notify clients that the center will not be providing medical advice or establishing a
doctor-patient relationship.  The resolution also would require CPCs to
recommend to the client that she seek out a qualified health care
professional.  As women face some of the most complicated and meaningful decisions of
their lives, we owe it to them to make sure they receive thorough and
medically sound information.”

To which I would counter, “Fine, require that abortion clinics provide an ultrasound to every woman considering an abortion, and impose the same fine per person for each woman not shown the real pictures of their real children that they are really going to destroy willingly and pay the clinics to do.” As for wanting the women fully informed, again I say “Fine, require that the “full service” women’s clinics disclose all the complications emotional and physical that stem from abortions and from decades of use of birth control.” and “Fine, I want parental consent and the same protections put on my kids if they want asprin at school established to prevent the dissemination of birth control pills, IUD’s, Condoms, RU-486. I also want informed parental consent required for all medical procedures to ensure proper medical care.” But these things are not proposed or even considered. Nor would they gain the traction this type of regulation has garnered from those heavily invested in politics. This policy is coy and clever, it pretends that it does not mean what it means, it feigns ignorance but is calculated to destroy alternative clinics that do not promote or practice abortion.

She continued, “The resolution does not limit the type of counseling a woman may receive.  Rather, it ensures that women understand the nature of that advice.” No, councilwoman, it does precisely limit one side of the argument in favor of the other.  It demands that pro-life clinics provide documentation of the immoral alternative while not requiring the same of those that are pro-abortion.

In conclusion, I ask everyone to pray in this time of Advent that more of us come to recognize the unborn and that we become less fearful of the opposition and more knowledgeable of what they are about.  We have to recognize that if we cannot speak it, if we cannot practice it, if we cannot live it, we are not actually believing what we profess to believe, we are giving lip service to the belief that all human life is sacred.  By our words, by our deeds, by what we do and do not do, and what we say and what we will not say, we will reveal whether we love and recognize Christ in the Womb like Saint John the Baptist.



Copyright 2009 Sherry Antonetti

How in these few weeks of Advent, can we keep from succumbing to the secular despair born of wishing to fill the home with things?  There is a great pressure to give in to the demands that we run up credit cards such that the twelve days of Christmas result in six months of interest paid.

First, toss the catalogues that deluge the mailbox every day from September on and turn off the television.  Put a Christmas movie on instead if the kids want to watch TV.    The impulse to say “I want that. I want that. I want that.” will be dampened if children aren’t constantly bombarded with advertisements for things.

When you shop, set a budget and stick to it.  Take a cue from Saint Nicholas and make a list.  Thinking about what to get people before you shop will cut back on impulse buys and help prevent overspending.  It will also make taking on shopping easier.  Look for things that will involve the whole family, that will tickle and delight and engage.   Board games that require parents to play with their kids cost less than video games that result in kids shutting themselves off from others.   Actual skateboards and sleds are far more thrilling than virtual ones.

Take your children to see a live Nativity.  Have the older ones work with a local soup kitchen or food pantry.  Let the younger ones make a goodwill bag from their room, and then take the trip to “make room in the inn for Jesus,” by dropping off the things one doesn’t need at a local charity.   Hang lights.  Trim the tree one ornament by each family member, each day.  The gradual increased beauty of the tree will help create the right anticipation of December 25th.  Bake cookies but not as though one were competing in an “Iron Chef” type contest to show off one’s skills in the kitchen.  Write real notes to friends instead of a mass newsletter.  The letters may be shorter, but they’ll mean more.   Remember the words of Blessed Mother Teresa, “Do little things with great love.”

Light the advent wreath every day, and if possible, read aloud the readings of the day at the dinner table to everyone.   Keeping Christmas means letting go of those things that keep us from Christ; keeping Christmas means dropping those things that prevent us from racing towards that stable.   The shepherds left their flocks.  The kings left their kingdoms.  The mighty and the low then, both understood what the cluttered crowded commercial demands of the secular version of Christmas threaten to obscure for all of us today.

So get ready for the Birth of Christ.  Seek to stay unrushed; to be steeped in Advent.  Count your blessings and share them with those less fortunate.   We still have food and family and this faith that fills us.  We have the gift of Christ in the manger.  What more could we ask for, than that all of us understand that what God wants for each of us, is peace on Earth and good will towards each other.

Copyright 2009 Sherry Antonetti

For the fun of it, I started crafting my own commencement speech for the kids for when they finally leave home.

Children, for you will always be our children, we hope you will treasure your innocence. It is often not recognized as the gift it is until it has been eroded entirely. It came with you when you were born and we have shepherded you to this point as best we could, knowing that this lightness was important and beautiful and easily blown out by the world.

We hope you will recognize that your life is sacred. We have known this since before you were born.  When you were small, we wrapped you in blankets and kept you warm, fed you good food and took delight in exposing you to beauty and truth and joy.  Now you are grown. You must shepherd your own faith, mind and body. Do not abuse your body, mind or spirit. To protect yourself, pray daily. Be kind. Stay close to the sacraments; they will keep you strong.

Recognize that every second we draw breath, is a gift for each of us. Recognize that we are called to be examples to each other in all that we speak, write, think and do, but that because no one looks as good under a microscope or viewed through a magnifying glass, be charitable to others when they are being scruitinized.  It is better to be kind than to appear clever.

Be engaged in your own life. The memories you cherish about adulthood and growing up won’t be the times you spent playing video games or watching television or surfing the net.  They will contain stories about people and places and doing things; fishing and getting skunked, or eating an extra ice cream cone, watching the fireworks on top of a car or hiking into the mountains and seeing an eagle, snake or just the world differently. Real live involves seeing family and feasting with others. It’s hard and fattening and bubbling over and messy. The computer world is very pristine, neat, easy and controllable, but a life filled with virtual victories and face book only friends is a virtual life, ephemeral and wasting.

Try things that are hard, that you are not naturally good at doing.  Take on challenges, then do what is expected and more.  Be enthusiastic.  People will appreciate and remember your energy even more than your competency. Take classes from people in love with their subjects. Read everything you can. Vote. Volunteer in some capacity somewhere on a weekly basis. Avoid becoming seduced by your own talent. You can do this if you laugh well, laugh often, and most of all, are able to laugh at yourself.

Be unafraid to taste new things, to listen to new music and to go new places.  Welcome new people into your life and listen to others.  They often have fine ideas worth hearing. Seek out friends that will build you up and be honest at the same time. Just remember, if you want astonishingly good friends, you have to be one.  If you wish to live a life without regrets, you must govern your mind, heart, body and spirit now, and seek all that is good. You must also know what is good and if you don’t know, start asking. Say when your heart is troubled or your spirit is low, those that love you will hear and provide comfort.  Be ready to return the favor.

When a child asks you to play, say yes. When dessert is offered, take it and say thanks. When you see someone needs help, give it. When someone asks for prayers, pray. These are the hallmarks of a well feasted life.

You are entering adulthood. You have and always have had, our permanent love and prayers. Don’t forget that when you leave, you will take part of us with you and we miss that part that is you, so call home.

Finally, if you want an extraordinary life, you can’t give a mediocre effort. A full life involves a fully invested heart. Be open to God with your whole life and I promise your life will be overflowingly full.

Copyright 2009 Sherry Antonetti

I used to worry that such prayer “doesn’t count,” but God doesn’t mind my stutter steps at prayer as long as I keep trying.  Such false starts and automatic reflexes indicate the body trying to imitate the spirit and bring the spirit along when perhaps the spirit has forgotten.   I’m grateful for the reminder and the assist.   What routine prayer gives is the opportunity for us to pour ourselves into the prayer.  We are shaped by the prayer rather than the shaper of it.  By not engaging in free form stream of consciousness blogging to God, we are less self focused as we petition our Lord with our troubles and trials, our hurts and weaknesses, pains, passions and joys.  Some days, the discipline has made me pray for people I know and love, and other days, for those with whom I struggle to keep civil.   We have prayed for our children and extended family, for friends, for finances, for our country, for our leaders, for our enemies and for those we’ve never met but know through the internet and news, are struggling.

A routine established discipline of prayer, be it the Divine Chaplet, the Rosary, Saint Bridgette’s or any other method prescribed by the church or established via the Saints will change not simply how one prays, but why.  Just as a exercise regimen at first is a trial and chore but if maintained, eventually becomes a sanctuary and a moment of pampering in the day, a stress reliever and method of maintaining more than weight and health, so also prayer if begun and held to as a daily regimen, will become that refuge from all that can gouge out the joy and energy of the every day.

How do we seek Christ when we have all that is in any given day to do?  We add one more thing to the daily list; a daily obligation to pray.  Some days you will be Martha when this takes place, others you will be like Mary but since both are saints, and that means, it is good either way.   Try it.  It will transform your day and your relationship with God and others.

Copyright 2009 Sherry Antonetti

Statistically, one in every 800 births worldwide is a child with Down syndrome but as Twain said; there are lies, damn lies and statistics.  In the US, over 90% of all children diagnosed with Down syndrome are destroyed in utero.  Meaning, there are a lot of children that aren’t, that should be; flowers that are rare by design but have been destroyed intentionally one at a time.  These children are unique.  They harm no one.  Traditionally they have been described as more patient, more gentle and more trusting than the general population, a side effect of their distinctive genotype and chromosomal disorder.   The world however allows that these children, being less than perfect, should be discarded willingly.

After all, the world doesn’t need to learn to slow down, to trust more, to be more patient, to be more accepting of the reality that we should love absent accomplishment.   The world does’t think we should be willing to have our preconceptions about the value of any life, specifically, the quality of a life we do not yet know, challenged.  These children go unnoticed to their grave by the world, discarded in clinics as so much human waste by the tens of thousands annually.

Down syndrome children may never win Nobel Prizes, but they won’t ever be starting wars or actively shooting.  They may never clean up the ocean, but they won’t be exploiting the Earth either.  Children with Trisomy 21 may not write the next great American novel, but then most of us won’t get to that project any time soon. Harvard and Yale and Notre Dame may be closed options for them, but these same people have full open hearts.  This world needs a society peopled with more generous hearts.  Think of the beauty they might inspire.

Now Down Syndrome children shall never die out entirely as long as one woman is willing to take on the challenge of caring for a child whose future is defined by the world as decidedly less valuable, (though no more known than any other human being’s), but something else is becoming extinct in the process of a whole race of people being destroyed sight unseen for personal reasons.

The world at large would be angry at the senseless destruction of 45,000 rare flowers.  It would be outraged at the murder of a football stadium filled with people but it does not see these 45,000 lost this year in the United States alone.  It says nothing about the complicit destruction of 92% around the world of those diagnosed with Down syndrome.  Society as a whole is cheapened by its willful missing of a beauty it never allowed itself to witness.  It has lost out on a whole field of flowers, whose scent is gentle, and whose ways are kind.  Shame on our ignorance. Pity our impatience.  Forgive us our waste.  Mourn our world’s loss..

Copyright 2009 Sherry Antonetti

The expected answer was implied, “No.”

These days, the sight of nine children elicits this response and is usually followed before it can be answered with a proclamation either of “We’re done.” or “I’m done.” or other explanations of how children won’t be born in the future to the person asking the question.. The question “are you done?” has an expected answer of “Yes.”

Now I know that all families are gifts and that love is not measured by the number of children, but by the fullness of our hearts but there is something about that question, “Are you done?” that implies an impatience, an irritation at being offered a permanent perfect gift.. Sometimes I falter because I understand why someone would want to tell God, “Enough.” We are finite creatures, fearful of being asked to love infinitely. Original sin can make us cowards before the possibilities of permanent infinite bounty of God’s love.

But God likes to give us second chances to get to the right place, and so the question was put forth again three more times by a stranger, a professional acquaintance and a friend in that order. “I don’t know.” “We aren’t seeking or refusing anything we receive.” And “I still haven’t figured out how to respond to that question.” were my attempts to answer the question without answering or revealing too much. It still felt strained.

My sage husband suggested prayer.

The next day the question came again.. “This is our youngest son. Our latest.” I said to the woman in line who asked me as I pushed a three child stroller by her. She looked at them and beamed, “I think that’s wonderful.” The question stopped being asked. Thank goodness God gives us multiple chances. As a writer, I love rewrites to get just the right turn of phrase, to convey everything I hope to say in the fewest words possible. God apparently does too.


Copyright 2009 Sherry Antonetti

a) Ask for help and accept it.  Even Jesus had twelve apostles, what makes you think you should have to go it alone?

b) Wear Bright clothing.  Joseph felt pretty darn special in his multi-colored coat, so why not you?

c) Call your friends when you feel like crying.  Christ tried to tell his friends of his fears as he faced his coming crucifixion. Sharing your stories transforms suffering into struggling.

d) Have Date night 1 time a month minimum.  Your marriage is a reflection of Christ’s love to your children.  You need to maintain its health –healthy marriage =happy grown ups = more generous and happy parents =healthy happy family, even in the most difficult of situations.

e) Exercise daily (even one sit up or one push up counts).  Your body is a temple that needs to be tended to, it is a healthy form of self love.

f) Food tips… Short cuts for good nutrition for you and your children

*ice cream = milk
*strawberries = brocolli
*french fries are a vegetable –so is ketchup

Eat a balanced diet but remember its okay to sometimes have a strawberry sundae with fries on the side with ketchup.  Feasting is so common in the bible, it’s almost cliché.  God wants us to be joyfully sustained spiritually and physically.

g)  Mary gave us the rosary so we could tell God all our troubles –why do you think there are four sets of mysteries and all those decades?  As the Mother of God, don’t you think she stressed about the little stuff occasionally?

h) Humor even in the form of canned jokes and bad puns can make even the worst moment of motherhood better.  My favorite is my son’s first made up joke.  Knock Knock.  Who’s there? Car Wash!  He thought it was hilarious and just remembering his joy as he told this joke to a friend who also thought it was the funniest thing she had ever heard, makes whatever it is I was brooding over, less overwhelming.

i)  If you got dressed today,…give a cheer, some days, that’s all one can manage with small children.  It counts.

j)  Keep a journal in your purse to write down whatever, including your fears.

k) Keep the Diaper bag in the car

* Fully stocked (it only works this way)
* may require a trailer hitch

l)  Add 15 minutes lag time (front and back) to each + every task

* Do not schedule more than 2 tasks in 24 hours

m)  Put on music when the house or apartment feels cluttered so cleaning is less dreary, or when the home feels lonely or when despair threatens your internal motivation to act.

n)  No one is perfect.  When you are trying to make the picture perfect home or dinner or whatever it is, remember who your audience is, they don’t expect perfection, just love and attention and food on the table.

o) Off. Turn the TV and computer off and go outside or at least out.

p) Pray each day – even just God…..help.  Pray for friends, pray for wisdom, pray when you are stuck in line at a light, it makes the time less tedious.

q)  Queue things up.  Schedule multiple kids hair cuts, dentists and doctors appointments together.  Jesus was the ultimate multi-tasker, healing bodies and souls, forgiving sins and teaching the Pharisees at the same time.  He didn’t just heal one leper, He did ten at a time!

r)  Dad is the relief pitcher..  Feel free to call in the reliever from the bull pen.

s) Stash emergency chocolate in your purse, have it ready to share with someone else who has or is having a bad day.

t) Take time to read to yourself for even just 2 minutes –I keep books in the car.

u) You make lists; cross them out as they get done.  Moses made lists.

v) Vary once in a while, make the list and rip it up.. Moses did this too.

w) Write your stories; there are thousands every day.

x) Schedules and meal planning help keep budgets and diets, and as a bonus, fight boredom.  Have them posted EXTRA BIG somewhere central ( I know that seems odd, but it is true). There are seasons and schedules and feasts in Churches and states and Governments and they are all well advertised in prominent places to ensure proper preparation and planning.  The family is no different.

y) Accept that part of who you are forevermore, is Mom, and there is no such thing as being “just a mom.”   A mom of one is vital to that one child.  A mom of seven is just as vital to each of her children individually.

z) Nap in the car with the kids if they fall asleep in their car seats. Zzzzzzzz.

Even God rested after creating the world in six days.  You helped create a life and you are mortal –of course you are tired!  It took nine months to get to this point, give yourself at least nine months to fully recover.

Lastly, remember: Doing all the little things with great love is what God calls all of us to do.  It’s hard and sometimes repetitive and frustrating, but it is a great and simple calling to love these little ones well.   When you feed your baby, you have fed the hungry.  When you bathe and dress your children, you have clothed the naked.  All of this is the work of building the kingdom of God.  Rejoice and be glad.

Copyright 2009 Sherry Antonetti

The one course my daughter takes seriously is religion.  Last week, she had a question for her family.  What was our favorite encounter with Jesus? One child said the feeding of the 5000, and wryly commented on how we do that every week.  Another spoke about Jesus throwing the money changers out of the temple.  He was struggling with an Ethics class and peers.  I wasn’t much in the mood to answer her questions as I felt preoccupied with the need to fix dinner, to get the family moving along on the evening routine but I answered, “Ask and ye shall receive.”  Her own answer caught me up short, “The Resurrection,” but admittedly, I did not ponder what her answer revealed about her heart at the time.   I buried it in the business of being practical.  “The homework is done.” I could check it off.

That Sunday, I woke up with a hard pinch in my neck.  Dutifully, we began the routine of getting ready for mass.  Having loaded the car with most of our children, we recognized our middle daughter had not yet come down stairs.  A quick run upstairs revealed she was still asleep.  So my husband took those ready for Sunday and I busied her about getting ready so we could make the next mass time.  My neck hurt terribly and it hurt my mood.  We’d been doing so well.  I didn’t snap but I wasn’t warm either.

We drove to the church.  I wasn’t mentally ready for mass or talk.  My daughter started to chatter and I shushed her because of it.  She sat silently, staring out the window, seemingly uninjured by my coolness.   Parking was difficult and I had to back in the car.  She saw me wince as I looked back as I parked.  “Are you okay?”  she asked gently. Stressed, I brusquely explained about the pinched nerve.  Walking into the church, my daughter put her hand up on my neck and began to massage it.  Now I admittedly am a bit standoffish about being touched.  I wanted to pull away.  But the pain was so severe, the touch melted my resolve.

Then I noticed that the hand stayed there.  It rubbed my neck and stayed there all the way through to the Gospel.  It returned when we sat for the homily.  Her hand stayed until the consecration.  When she finally put her hand down, the pain remained but the frost on my heart has long since thawed.  My daughter’s love was revealed in her hand and all I could feel was “Lord I am not worthy.”

When mass finished, she wanted to go to the bake sale but couldn’t decide which treat she wanted the family to enjoy, a chocolate Bundt or a blueberry pound cake.  She looked to me and asked, “Is your neck better Mom?”

It wasn’t but I nodded and swallowed hard as the pinch went up and down.

“Which one should we pick?” she asks, her eyes are bright.

I recalled my mother’s response to my daughter’s assignment, the healing of the blind man after the Pharisees asked, “Who sinned?” and Jesus’ response.  The man was allowed to suffer so that the Glory of God might be revealed through Christ.   The pain in the neck allowed me to see what a pain in the neck I’d been.   The suffering had brought me closer to my daughter and begun the healing a far greater hurt, a fearful and cool heart.

I looked at the cakes and we bought both.

Copyright 2009 Sherry Antonetti