I had been outside, riding my bike, when I ran in to get a drink of water.  My mother, who had been reading the local newspaper, was quietly weeping.

I asked her why she was crying.  I looked over her shoulder to see what she had been reading and saw a picture of the sweetest little boy.  He had the face and smile of a cherub, a head full of dark curls, and very large, brown eyes.  I asked who he was.  I don’t remember his name, but I’ll never forget his beautiful face.  As I gazed into those eyes, my mother told me his parents had beaten him to death.

He was four years old.

Perhaps my mom shouldn’t have told me; raw with emotion and lost in her own pain, she had blurted the words without thinking.  I wept for another child for the first time in my life.  This little boy would never ride a bike or run in the park.  It was incomprehensible to my young mind.  Almost immediately, my lighthearted nature and joy evaporated.  A true depression, a sadness that I couldn’t articulate for many months, enveloped me.  I lost interest in day to day pleasures.  I quit playing outside.  Fear and anxiety dwelt closely in my heart.  My world was no longer safe.

It took several months before I could pull myself out of that depression.  Nine years old and no one really knew just how disturbed, how profoundly changed I was by the death of a child I had never known.  I kept my secret for many years and only recently shared it with my mother as we were discussing the importance of maintaining purity and innocence in the life of a child…

Innocence.

A state of blessed “unknowingness” that is markedly different from ignorance.  So many of our children are increasingly subjected to sights, sounds, and situations which may mar or altogether destroy their innocence.  Most Catholic parents are vigilant keepers at the gates of the family castle, seeking to provide a refuge against the irreligiosity of the world and its seductive whispers.  We set up filters on computers, block-out television channels or eliminate commercial programming completely, screen videos and literature, and make every effort to know as much as possible about our childrens’ friends.  Additionally, some of us have chosen “the road less traveled”: educating our children at home to shelter them from the storm of secularism and accepting the monumental responsibility that is inherent in being the primary role model of the seven cardinal virtues.

And yet…we can still be bombarded from the most unlikely sources.

As a vehemently pro-life Catholic, I’m well aware of the challenges that exist in spreading the truth about the horrors of abortion and the industry of death.  I’m proud of the men and women who have put their very freedom on the line to protect our littlest brothers and sisters.  These gentle souls, by their prayers and sacrifices, and their peaceful protests continue to send a message that is counter to the hatred that is so rampant amongst the pro-death camp.  Prayer is, and always will be, the most effective way to counter evil in this world.

Alas, there are those within our movement who have begun to despair, and in that despair have sought to win souls and save lives through “shock and awe.”  Graphic depictions of aborted and mutilated children are paraded on banners, emblazoned on trucks and carried on placards.  These are real babies, little boys and girls horribly mangled and nearly unrecognizable.  How heinous and frightening the reality of abortion!  Is it any wonder that not a few young women have changed their minds after viewing these images?  Fr. Frank Pavone of Priests For Life shares the following observation:
“There is no single thing that I have seen more powerful to change people on abortion than simply showing them the pictures… When people see what abortion does to a baby, they are stung to the heart and their consciences are awakened.”  Should not our reaction always be one of fright, disgust and extreme heart-wrenching sorrow?  When working against the hardened hearts of adults who have hidden themselves from the reality of the violence of abortion, it would seem that these tactics are particularly effective.

But what if you were six years old…what would you think?  Could your parents explain it away in a nice, tidy manner that would make it okay to display this dead child’s body?  Can a death so horrible, delivered by the hands of those who should love, protect and nurture this life be explained that easily to one so young?  Would you be surprised if this young child consequently had nightmares after seeing these images; contemplating and hearing the horrible reality?  Would it be surprising if eventually, after years of viewing these images, the child ceased to weep or feel revulsion, having become desensitized after having seen them so often?

I’m simply not satisfied with the answer that seems to imply that “the end justifies the means” when it comes to exposing young children to images of such extreme and graphic violence.  Our young and innocent ones should never be asked to bear this adult burden of knowledge.  Somehow, I can’t imagine our Lady carrying one of these banners…I imagine Her banner would hold the body of another Innocent Victim.  One that doesn’t scandalize the innocence of childhood, but convicts the heart of the sinner with a message of everlasting peace, love and redemption.

As a nine year old, I gazed upon a lovely photo of a child who had been murdered.  Not his beaten and bruised body.  A beautiful photo of a living child.  And I’m haunted by the image and the knowledge of the death of that very small boy.

I believe these images are necessary and can be a powerful tool when placed in the right hands, and used properly.  But their efficacy is certainly far below that of prayerful and peaceful protest.  As we are trying to to change the hearts of adults, these images should never be used in the presence of young children.  No adult, no matter how well-intentioned in this very important fight has the right to scandalize the innocence of another parent’s children.  We mustn’t make the fatal mistake of discounting the sensitivity of our little ones just because we understand, because the stakes are so high and because we’ve begun to believe that only by extreme action will we accomplish our goals.

Have we really entered a place where we believe that the bloody image of an aborted child has more power to convert than the image of our Lord crucified?  What of the image of Our Lady of Guadalupe?  Did not our Lady appear in radiant splendor, beauty Her banner,  to counter the horrors of human sacrifice?

Evil is rampant in our world.  We would never take our children into the “dens of iniquity” to show them that evil exists.  It is scandalous to expose young children to a graphic depiction of any despicable, sinful or perverse act… we must preserve and protect their innocence with the same vigilance that we have for the babies being lost to abortion.

Last week, the children and I participated in a peaceful protest outside an abortion clinic, taking our turn as prayerful witnesses for the sanctity of life.  No sign holding, no passing out literature.  Just prayer.  Remembering this: “Preach the Gospel at all times and when necessary use words” – St. Francis of Assisi.

Does this sound familiar? I’ve had more than a few conversations with other moms and everyone is saying the same thing:

I’m not doing enough…

But what is “enough?” We are daily expanding this definition to include more and more. It is certainly desirable to stretch one’s self. Look at the marathon runner: a jog around the block would never be “enough.” For the great artist, a coloring book wouldn’t be “enough.” A master chef wouldn’t consider a TV dinner a challenge and would even be insulted that he be asked to prepare one! Most women I know are stretched to the limit, praying for grace and calling upon the many gifts God has given to assist in the fulfillment of the day’s work.

It can be so tempting, to read or hear what others are doing in the realm of academics, family life and home organization and feel that we don’t measure up. Often, a young mom who is seeking encouragement and suggestions from one of her more experienced “sisters” can come away feeling inadequate, fearing that she is not as good a mother, wife, teacher, insert-title-here. It’s easy to forget that we’ve all been given gifts suitable to our calling, and have also been endowed with the abilities to use them accordingly. It’s also important to remember at these times that God alone is the Giver of all good gifts, that He endows us as He wills. I receive such comfort when I contemplate the image St. Thérèse of Lisieux inspires, as she uses a floral analogy to show us that we are unique and have gifts all our own which glorify God:

Jesus opened the book of nature before me, and I saw that every flower He has created has a beauty of its own; that the splendor of the rose and the lily’s whiteness do not deprive the violet of its scent, nor make less ravishing the daisy’s charm. I saw that if every little flower wished to be a rose, nature would lose her Spring adornments, and the fields would be no longer enameled with their varied flowers.

“…every flower He has created has a beauty of its own…” We are not “cookie cutter” people! Some are called to be great scholars, others artists and philosophers, still others are called to live more hidden lives. How blessed am I to have been adorned by God to serve my particular call! If I listen closely, tuning out the discouraging message the world wishes to send, I will hear Him as He calls me  to holiness, to greater love of Himself and neighbor, loving service as befits my vocation and contentment in the gifts that I’ve been given. God has equipped me (and you!) for these monumental tasks, no matter how arduous they may seem at times. What a great gift to have the example of good friends and neighbors, to glean from others’ experience, inspiration to aid us in living lives of holiness.

Am I doing enough?

Though I’m always tempted to say “no,” I realize that my feelings of inadequacy most frequently surface as I continue to struggle to impose my definition of the vocation of wife and mother, rather than allowing God to mold me. Focusing on the essentials, utilizing God’s gifts is paramount to peace and contentment.

Living a life of service and offering that service in love, is never in vain. I have faith that God will help me make up for my deficiencies…

And that is enough.

This surprising question was posed by one of my sons several months ago. It was not precipitated by a sudden financial catastrophe. We hadn’t lost our home, there was food in the fridge and payday was just around the corner.

“Why do you ask son? Are you worried about something?” One never knows what secret worries may trouble the heart of a child…

“One of my friends said our family was poor. I didn’t know what he meant and I didn’t know what to say. Are we poor?”

I reassured him that he lacked for nothing, that the wealth of love and life that surrounds him everyday is more than most people in the world can ever dream. The answer satisfied him and he rejoined a veritable “treasure trove” of brothers and sisters in play.

Poverty.

It’s a dirty word in the mouth of most Americans, something to be shunned and abhorred, much as the ancients would shun and abhor the leper. Many live as though financial prosperity is God’s ultimate reward and is due us, as long as we remain in His favor. There are some who would insist that the poor are experiencing a bit of divine retribution, that their hunger, homelessness and/or disordered finances are God’s just punishment. I would argue that a degree of poverty is a good thing, that it ennobles, uplifts and was the life chosen by the Holy Family and the Twelve during their earthly sojourn. It is one of the three vows taken by our clergy and religious. The materially poor exist as an indictment upon the world, convicting us of our ease and plenty.

We know that poverty exists in many forms and is defined as:

1. The state of being poor; lack of the means of providing material needs or comforts.
2. Deficiency in amount; scantiness: “the poverty of feeling that reduced her soul” (Scott Turow).
3. Unproductiveness; infertility: the poverty of the soil.
4. Renunciation made by a member of a religious order of the right to own property.

These dispassionate definitions, these mere words on a page fail to show us the reality of poverty.

Poverty has many faces. These faces give us a much more chilling definition: the down-and-out beggar panhandling on the street corner; the emaciated child in the arms of his crying mother; the homeless lined up to receive a hot meal and a few groceries from the local soup kitchen; the shivering man, huddled under a ragged blanket on a park bench. Those are the familiar faces, the ones we remember as we “pray for the poor among us.”

Our family has been fortunate to never suffer that level of poverty. I can’t say that we haven’t experienced poverty, but ours has been a completely different kind. I refer to it as the poverty of inconvenience; it is the closest experience that many of us have ever had with deprivation.

What is the poverty of inconvenience? I’m quite sure some of you could share past or present experiences, but for our family it would be the times we’ve had the empty refrigerator and cabinets. The day we had the realization that there would be nothing for breakfast the following day. A lack of money for gas to get to work and Church. Having no propane this past winter and feeling the bitter cold much more intensely than we have in the past. No medical insurance, weighing the sickness or injury of a child in terms of what you can afford. Ad infinitem…

These inconveniences, for lack of a better word, were all instances of great grace in the life of this family. Shall I share some of the blessings with you?

The night we realized there would be no breakfast the next day, there was a knock at the door. A good friend had stopped by his father’s house and was given several bags of groceries to deliver to our family. Not just any groceries. Breakfast. I remember saying in prayer: “Lord…we have nothing for breakfast tomorrow. The children will need breakfast…” Don’t ask why I didn’t say food or lunch and dinner, I simply prayed for breakfast. What a breakfast we received! Juices, eggs, danishes, fruit, sausage, bacon. A lavish breakfast! This dear friend, seeing the tears of joy and obvious relief of the family, later returned with several days groceries.

I can’t recount just how many times people have given us money for gas or other unforeseen expenses. A dear Protestant friend called me one day and said that it was urgent that she meet with me. Moments later, I’m at her little grocery store and she hands me an envelope. She says: “Don’t ask any questions…I was praying and God told me to give you this, right now. I’m sure you’ll know what to do with it…” There was $300.00 in the envelope. The exact amount we lacked to rent a moving van. This same woman provided our entire Christmas dinner a few months prior. We have many dear friends who continue to provide us with the most loving gifts and support…it is truly humbling.

No propane. The cost of propane has gone up considerably over the past couple years. Last winter we spent several weeks without it. The first week was difficult, as we had no supplemental heat source. How did the children respond? It was actually quite lovely…gathered around the Advent wreath, we talked about how often we’ve prayed for the poor, for those suffering from the elements. One of the children said, “But aren’t we cold, too?” It was then that we realized that our poverty was different. We were merely being inconvenienced, allowed to suffer a bit of deprivation, but with none of the devastating effects of true material poverty. Telling the children that we would offer up our minor suffering, and were even being given the grace to understand a bit better how much the truly poor were suffering was beneficial to us all. We had plenty of warm blankets, warm clothing, a roof over our heads and beds to sleep upon. A week later, we received assistance from our local parish, but a little over a month later were without propane again. We faced the obstacle that time with peace, perseverance and a couple of kerosene heaters to take the edge off the cold. How much more effectively were we able to pray, when we ourselves were allowed to experience a tiny taste of the deprivation that the truly poor suffer throughout the winter months.

“Mom…are we poor?”

There is irony in contemplating those words and writing of poverty as I sit before a computer, hooked up to the Internet, with a roof over my head, healthy children, a garden thriving, and food in the refrigerator and cabinets.

It has pleased the Lord only to allow this family to suffer deprivation as it glorifies Him. He does truly give us our daily bread, shelters us and cares for us as He does all of His creation. Why our family hasn’t faced the rigors of starvation, both physical and spiritual is a mystery that can only be answered by God Himself. Why is it His will that we suffer so little when others suffer so much? I don’t know, I only know that it pleases Him to do as He wills…that our times of deprivation are a means and a way for Him to manifest His goodness. And yes, that applies should the situation change for the worse!

We are providentialists…believing fully that God will care for this family as it pleases Him. That He is truly glorified when the world observes that it is only by Him that we make it from day to day. Looking at our family, no one would ever guess the daily struggles my dear husband has undergone to support us. Only our closest friends have known. It is truly a testimony to the great delight that God must take in showing the world that He is more than capable of providing for His own. Every day is a miracle. Every loss, every gain…He shows us that He’s in control, that we are most surely in His Hands.

We don’t know what the future will bring. Sometimes it pleases the Lord to “bruise” us, to “chastise” and correct us. At present, He is greatly delighted by our “inconveniences” and knowing this makes it so much easier to say:

“It is the LORD; let Him do what seems good to Him.”