The best thing I've ever done for my kids

The best thing I've ever done for my kids is to get away from them a whole week.

My wife and I recently went on a week-long holiday—kid-free! Other than a weekend marriage encounter when we only had one child, this is the first time we've gotten away, just the two of us. Celebrating 15 years of marriage is a pretty good excuse to get away and recharge our parenting batteries.

Enjoying our Lighthouse Picnic in Ferryland, NL

We are truly blessed to have had the chance to focus on our marriage without the distractions of everyday life, without four fighting and screaming small people, without running to swimming lessons and soccer practices, without work, without grocery shopping, without mountains of laundry, without cooking and cleaning. It did our relationship a world of good.

We got to talk about something other than dirty diapers, homework struggles, frustrations at work, who didn't eat their peas—again, why someone had TV taken away—again, and all those other mundane things that consume parents. We even had the stamina to stay out past 10 pm. On more than one occasion!

It's no secret parenting is hard work and can be tiring. OK, exhausting at times. It's truly a 24/7 job, and it's one we do joyfully—in theory if not in practice all the time. So it makes sense that to do it well, to live one's vocation as spouse and parent, focusing on the marriage part is essential. And to be able to focus on that uninterrupted is a good thing. It's a great thing.

Jesus spoke about building on a solid foundation (cf Mat 7:24), and the solid foundation on which good parenting is built is marriage. We're refreshed and ready to help our little ones grow and reach their inherent God-given potential. We're ready to do it with renewed energy and enthusiasm. We're ready to  live our vocation and grow in holiness each and every day. We're ready for bed at 10 pm again.

What are some ways you focus on your marriage and recharge your parenting batteries?

Father's Day

To all you fathers and father figures out there. Have a great day! This is a day to celebrate and reflect how crucial fatherhood is. Every kid needs a father figure in their lives. May we be a clear reflection of our heavenly Father's boundless and unconditional love. 

St. Joseph, thanks for being such a wonderful example of fatherhood. Pray for us!

PS: This may be my shortest post ever because I wrote it on my phone. Will be back at a computer for the next post. 

Nurturing nature

I planted some saskatoon berry bushes in my recently cleared patch of dirt along the side of my house. If you have ever had saskatoons—in a pie, jam, as a sauce over pancakes or ice cream, or with fresh cream and honey like I used to have at my grandparent's—you will know how thrilled I am to have my own bushes. If you haven't had the pleasure of tasting saskatoons, I feel sorry for you.

It will be a few years before my little bushes are big enough to produce fruit, so I am taking the time to nurture them. The soil was prepared, I purchased good quality plants, the spot for them gets the right amount of light, they get watered and fertilized regularly, and I'll have to weed and till the soil occassionally. This routine will need to continue until the hearty bush is well established, ready to brave the elements of a prairie winter and potentially dry summer on its own.

It makes sense—it's almost intuitive—that we need to nurture plants. It takes a lot of time and not a little know-how, which doesn't necessarily come naturally.

Now read that last paragraph and substitute plants with marriage, children, relationship with God.

Does it seem as intuitive? I think it does. But more often than not I don't put the same effort into nurturing people and relationships that I do nurturing my precious bushes or garden. And still I expect them all to bear fruit.

Like plants, a marriage needs preparation, choosing the right person and feeding the relationship with time, sacrifice, service and prayer.

Like plants, children need their soil tilled from time-to-time, the weeds removed, they need to be fed and watered—not just in the physiological sense. In short, they need a lot of TLC if they are to grow and bear fruit as healthy and loving adults.

Like plants, our relationship with our creator needs to be nurtured if we are to bear fruit as His disciples. We need to be open to His love and nurturing and be fed through prayer, His word and especially the sacraments. How fitting I write this on the day we celebrate Corpus Christi, the feast of the body and blood of Christ.

Time, a little energy, and a healthy dose of grace are all it take to nurture and bear fruit.

My mouth is watering just thinking about eating a saskatoon berry pie.

Digging roots

Last weekend I had the pleasure of digging out some shrubs—roots and all.

This is our second spring in this house. Last year was the "let everything grow to see what previous owners planted and take some time to decide if we like it or not" year. We decided we didn't like most, well, any, of the random selection of bushes along the side of the house.

Step number one in turning that area of the yard into something we want and like is getting rid of the stuff we don't want and like. And that meant digging out the bushes. Because I don't want these bushes to sucker and creep-up again, I needed to get the roots out.

While I was digging, I was reminded of the similarities between bushes and sin. I know, it's obvious.

More specifically, I thought of the roots. I ran across three main kinds of roots as I dug. There were the shallow, not-too-hard-to-remove kind—my favourite. It was apparent the moisture and nutrients in the soil weren't abundant in that particular area.

These roots are like the little venial sins in our lives. They have become part of us, but a little work, a little love, a little forgiveness and we can readily get rid of them.

The second type of root is a bit harder to get rid of, the ones that aren't very deep but run long. They have obviously been fed over the years, but not as well as maybe they should have been. They have learned to spread to where the moisture and nutrients are.

Our bad habits, those sins that have become part of us, are like this type of root. We don't always focus on them, or maybe we aren't always aware of them, but they have found a way to grow over the years and become a part of us. Thankfully, some prayerful examination and a little penance is usually adequate to deal with these sins.

The third type of root became my nemesis—the deep tap root. That main root that gets fed, becomes deep and an integral part of the plant. It is strong because it's a central part of the plant, and it runs deep to ensure the plant gets fed when surface moisture disappears.

The vice that we struggle with is like this type of root. We know it's there, and we even feed it with our sin. We don't like to, but we do it anyway. It's hard to get rid of, and more often than not we'll spend a lifetime trying to rid ourselves of this sin. You know those one or two (or more) sins you confess every single time you seek the sacrament of reconciliation? That's the tap root of sin.

I got rid of all the bushes—roots and all. I had the right tools, the will and perseverance, and I was willing to put in the work to make a clean slate for our landscaping that area.

We can get rid of our sin with the right tools (prayer, examining our conscience, God's forgiveness, the sacraments), the will to turn away from them and perseverance. Oh, and a truckload of grace and forgiveness from the God who is love—Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

Next post will be about what we did with that blank slate of yard and how God wants to work with our clean slate. Stay tuned.

No. 3 gets the spotlight for a change

For some reason, the number three doesn't have the best reputation in our western culture. Sure, the third time is the charm (or the point where the need for instant gratification ends and people just stop trying), but consider the following phrases:

• Bad things happen in threes. Good thing this phrase of a somewhat self-fulfilling prophecy didn't originate as "bad things happen by the dozen".
• Three is a crowd. Whoever made this up must be from the prairies where we have limitless space and can easily feel overcrowded.
• Third wheel. Unless your a tricycle, a third wheel is unwelcome.
• Third-born child. According to popular psychology, our third-born children are going to have issues, lots of issues.

And what about the third person of the trinity—the Holy Spirit? God the Father gets 46 books of the Old Testament and lots of mention in the new. Jesus gets 27 books of the New Testament, an entire religion named after Him and measurement of time itself changed around Him. Holy Spirit? A few obscure mentions the disciples didn't understand and one major feast. Yeah, He gets mentioned in the Acts of the Apostles a fair bit, but do we really give Him the credit He deserves?

I first started appreciating the significance of the Holy Spirit in my life and the life of the Church thanks to Pope John Paul II's apostolic letter The Coming of the Third Millennium. If you remember this letter, it laid out a three-year plan to prepare for the Great Jubilee—one year for each person of the trinity. The second year, 1998, was dedicated to the Holy Spirit.

I knew about the Holy Spirit from confirmation, His gifts and fruits. And yes, I truly believe He has dwelt in me and guided me since baptism. But this letter and subsequent book of reflections opened my eyes to the real significance of the Holy Spirit in everything we do.

"The Spirit, in fact, makes present in the Church of every time and place the unique Revelation brought by Christ to humanity, making it alive and active in the soul of each individual." (Tertio Millennio Adveniente, 44)

That's just one of several profound statements. What else can I say after a quote like that? Not much, other than let's celebrate Number Three this Sunday, Pentecost Sunday. And let's never stop celebrating the activity He generates in our souls. One thing I do think is worth mentioning about this quote, the use of the word "individual." He didn't say believer, faithful, Christian or anything else that would exclude anyone. The Holy Spirit is active in each individual in a very personal way. How are you going to respond to that activity in your soul?

Come Holy Spirit. Fill the Hearts of the faithful, and enkindle in them the fire of your love.
Send forth your Spirit, and they shall be created. And you shall renew the face of the Earth.

Test drive: Saint of the Day for Kids app

New to Apple's App Store is a great iOS app that will help your kids, and maybe you, learn how important the communion of saints is.

After first hearing about this app created by members of the Saskatoon diocese (that's in Canada, province of Saskatchewan, for those of you who are curious) I did a quick search in the app store for "Saints for kids." I was surprised that 29 apps came up. Wow, a crowded space. Well, not really. There are a bunch of Santa Claus apps, games (some that I have no idea how they appeared with that search criteria), a cooking app,... This is the only one that actually is what it says it is.

An initial 99 cent purchase gives you access to 121 saints and is supported by an ad. An in-app purchase of another 99 cents gets you access to a full year's worth of saints and feast days—that's 365 days of saintly goodness for only two bucks.

The random saint view appears to be a favourite for youngsters. My three-year-old loves the illustrations and is spending a fair amount of time exploring the various saints asking, "Who's this?" She also likes pressing the star, designating the selected saint as a favourite. She has declared St. Joan of Arc as a saint she loves, but was a little disappointed St. Therese wasn't available before making the in-app purchase.

The older kids immediately went for the calendar view, excitedly reading who the saint was for every one's birthday they could remember.

So far, the least popular view is the alphabetical listing, but I'm sure as time goes on it will prove its worth.

The descriptions are written in language perfect for younger children. My six-year-old easily read about Saints James and Philip at prayer time. I welcome the fact I no longer have to translate-on-the-fly while reading saint biographies written for adults. There's also a short prayer accompanying each saint.

You can share each saint via email or Facebook. You can also print the illustrations through an AirPrint-enabled printer to make great colouring sheets for the kids.

I give this app my blessing.

Check out the Saint of the Day for Kids website

Preview the app and check the specs in iTunes

Where's the charity in church pews and parking lots?

Twice a year our churches overflow with worshippers. Our faith family gathers to celebrate two occasions so important they can't be contained within one day, or even the eight (octave) dedicated to them. No, we do it right and celebrate an entire season in which we proclaim the glory of God with exuberance. We sing, pray, share food and are called to take that excitement into the world.

It lasts until we reach the parking lot. All the love and good-will gets sucked out of most people as quickly as the darkness of Mordor overcomes all but the purest of heart because it takes an extra seven minutes to get home.

Washing the feet of others in loving service, we embrace. Letting someone back out of their spot and get one full car length ahead of us? Well, let's not put words into Jesus's mouth and proclaim he meant for charity and service to extend that far.

That is assuming we let our rejoicing reach the parking lot. Instead of praising God for calling all his children home to worship on these most special of occasions (a priest friend reminded me many times there is grace in showing-up; don't be stingy with the grace and mercy of God, He's not) we get frustrated that our regular spot is taken, that people are still responding, "And also with you," and there are so many children with their "NOISE NOISE NOISE NOISE*" Bonus points to readers who recognize the quote without looking at the footnote.

Bloggers are abuzz this week talking about noisy children at Mass. Who knew it could be such a polarizing issue? Me. My wife and I have experienced first-hand the scorn of people that don't appreciate sitting near four children.

Oh, we have stories. But first, let me make a few points:

• We sit in the second or third row every week. Have for years. Even when we moved parishes we found a nice comfy spot right in front of the alter so our kids can see what's going on. Call me crazy, but I think it's easier to teach children about something if they can actually see it.
• There are different kinds and levels of noise children make. Babies babble. Kids ask questions and don't always whisper. There's the occasional fight over who sits where or who had what book first. Our three-year-old blurts out, "I have to go pee!" because she seems to have some weird fascination with public washrooms. And, the odd time there is inconsolable crying that requires my wife take me out in respect for people that appreciate having their eardrums intact.
• Kids aren't the only people that make noise during Mass. People clear their throat. The old guy with the hankie honks when he blows his nose. It can sound like drums when people slam their hymnal down. All can be distracting, but are considered "normal" sounds at Mass.
• My children are baptized members of this community and are subject to the same privileges, rights and responsibilities as everyone else. 
• I consider the crying room, or play room, nothing short of a ghetto that segregates vital members of the parish family. I do think a temporary space to take that screaming child is required, and I'm thankful we have one. But how did that noble concept ever gain traction and become incorporated into construction plans? Did the conversation go something like, "Hey, we really need to get more families coming to church. What can we do?" "I know, let's shove them into an isolation chamber and put toys in there so the kids never want to leave!" "We better pump some sound in there on the cheapest Radio Shack speakers we can find so parents feel welcome and connected to the liturgy." "Perfect! And that will help catechise the children and get them used to the idea of living their baptismal call."

Back to the stories. Most recently, my wife was given the evil eye by a woman in front of us when our 20-month-old daughter cried. My wife felt extremely uncomfortable, and being a sensitive woman (is that redundant?) she was on the verge of tears.

The very next week, I was reading a Bible story to our three-year-old before Mass, and the woman in front of me (not the same one that glared at my wife) turned to me, rosary in hand, and said, "Do you mind. I'm praying, and your reading is distracting me."

It's not often I'm lost for words, but I didn't know how to respond. Over the next several days I came up with all sorts of witty, yet charitable, zingers. But at that moment all I could muster was, "OK. I understand," and went back to quietly reading to my daughter. The woman left. I assumed she simply relocated, but she returned with reinforcements, who didn't seem at all perturbed by the sight or sound of a father reading Bible stories inside a church.

"Where sin abounds, grace abounds all the more." (Rom 5:20)

The same week my wife was scolded, a woman behind us had her arms out while praying the Our Father. Our youngest, now calmed down, took the familiar gesture as an offer to get picked-up and held. The woman graciously obliged, picked her up and held her the rest of Mass.

For every negative encounter, I can recall several positive ones. There are the nuns that sat behind us at our former parish who would make faces and play peek-a-boo with the kids to keep them occupied. There was the couple who hadn't yet been able to see their grandchild born in Australia so cuddled our baby, who was about the same age, during the whole Mass. There are the teenage girls who just love to hold babies. And there are the priests and other parishioners who make a concerted effort to comment "how wonderful your children are" and they are "so happy to see young families at church." And perhaps the sweetest consolation is the fact that more young families with babies have gathered in the front few pews in the past few weeks. Look out cranky people, we're taking over the joint.

We are all members of this wonderful community, this family we call Church. We all bring our idiosyncrasies and isms, our personalities and experiences, and that’s what makes the Church so wonderfully alive and vibrant. I love the readings from the Acts of the Apostles during the Easter season that drive home the importance of community, togetherness and unity among followers of Christ (cf Acts 4:32).

Our God is a kind God, and He wants us to exhibit the same kindness. He is a loving God, and He wants us to embrace and share that love. He is a big God who can't be bound by the artificial limits we place on His love and mercy because of our own preconceived notions of where and how to practice virtue—and that even includes parking lots and church pews.

Join the converstation. I'd love to hear your stories.


* The Grinch Who Stole Christmas by Dr. Seuss

Winning against the odds

Canadian Football League multiple-record holder, four-time Grey Cup champion and Canadian football  Hall of Famer Mike "Pinball" Clemens brought all the energy you would expect form a guy nicknamed Pinball to inspire the crowd at the annual Saskatoon Prayer Breakfast this morning.

Growing up the what he called "every stereotype you can imagine of the projects or the 'hood," Clemons had to deal with adversity right from the start. "Adversity is guaranteed. It's how you deal with it that makes the difference," he said.

Since he was eight, Clemons was told he was too small to play football. Instead of running away from adversity, he ran toward it and embraced the gifts and talents God had given him to overcome adversity.

"They said you're not big enough. Ran to it. They said you're not smart enough. Ran to it. They said you're from the wrong neighbourhood. Ran to it."

Acknowledging the tragedies in Boston and West, Texas this past week, Clemons highlighted how everyday people, particularly police officers and fire firefighters, ran to adversity to overcome the odds and save lives.

Involving and exciting the crowd during the whole address, Clemons explained he needed to find his "suweeeeet-spoooot" to win against the odds.

"Football means a lot to me. Family more. God the most."

Clemons explained, "I came to the humble conclusion that the substance of what I did, all I did was run with a piece of leather for a few miles. And it took me 12 years to do it! If you want to know who I am, I'm the husband of Diane, my wife. I live to serve her. That's my sweet-spot. I couldn't have done any of that stuff by myself. As much as I love my wife, it is Christ in me that taught me how to love. Christ in me told me it doesn't matter how big I am. I'm just bringing all I have to the party."

By bringing all he has to the party, Clemons has learned to win against the the odds that seemed to be stacked against him. More importantly, he has learned a relationship with Jesus not only makes that possible, it makes it a fun and interesting ride.

Learn more about Mike "Pinball" Clemons and his career

Support the Mike Pinball Clemons Foundation (MPCF) dedicated to helping disadvantaged youth.

Overwhelmed

A racing mind, accelerated heartbeat, shortness of breath, feeling paralyzed to do much of anything...

The psychological and physiological symptoms are very real and highly variable when we get overwhelmed. The pressures of balancing work and family life, personal struggles, health issues, challenges or trials our friends or family members are encountering, the collective struggles of our community, nation or the world can easily overwhelm us and create anxiety.

The past couple weeks have been a little stressful. I have seen a particularly heavy workload at work that has added to the already heightened anxiety of looming cutbacks at the university for which I work. Home and auto repair bills seem to coming fast and furious—like the unexpected oven repair. It's tax season. Everyone has extreme cabin fever (or maybe it's seasonal anxiety disorder) because my spring flowers are still under a six-foot pile of snow in my front yard. And the horrors in the news, particularly the Gosnell trial, break my heart and prompt a big fat "WHY?"

Each of us deal with the anxiety in different ways, some more healthy than others. I prefer to bottle it up  until it explodes all over someone close to me. Well, I don't prefer to do that, but that seems to be the unfortunate default more often than not. I prefer to hash things out with the Big Guy through prayer. A quick flash prayer of "Jesus, Mary, Joseph help me" is very therapeutic.

Ideally, prayer therapy leads to a different kind of being overwhelmed—being overwhelmed by the unfathomable love and mercy of God.

Easter is the season that helps us re-focus on that overwhelming love. I couldn't help being overwhelmed by Jesus's ultimate expression of love when venerating the cross on Good Friday. The joy was overwhelming us we proclaimed "Alleluia" Easter Sunday. God's infinite mercy overwhelmed me celebrating Divine Mercy Sunday.

Just like biblical encounters with the risen Christ overwhelmed those who experienced Him, we need to allow our encounters with Jesus—both the grand and the simple—to overwhelm us.

Whenever I pause long enough to accept the love and mercy offered, there is a physiological change in me. Instead of those anxious symptoms, God's overwhelming love has the opposite effect—it calms the mind, it soothes the heart, it offers peace. And ultimately, that love drives us to act and share it with others so they too may experience the wonderful gift offered to all.

Next time life, or the news, or anything else overwhelms us to the point we feel like the weight of the world is on our shoulders, let's shift our thinking to let the Good News overwhelm us like a tidal wave and be encompassed by the saving love of God.

Does God forgive that too?

It was one of those conversations that I can't remember the context, how it started, or how it ended, but one line said by the other remains with me: the God I believe in doesn't let sex offenders and pedophiles into Heaven.

As a parent—or a human being for that matter—I want to agree with him; anyone who would prey on the most vulnerable and do them harm deserves punishment. We demand justice. God demands justice. And justice doesn't include eternal bliss.

If justice is the only standard, who would measure up? On the continuum of sin, at what point does an action deny a person admission past the pearly gates?

Since God's justice is perfect, the answers are no one and no where respectively. The blemish, no matter how small, is unacceptable for one to be in God's presence.

There has to be another way or everything we believe about God's promises, His covenants, His death and resurrection would be meaningless.

Mercy. That one word makes an eternal difference.

Remember those shows—cartoons or the old cliff-hangers—where the hero is trapped and has two doors from which to chose his escape. Behind one door is a tank of snapping alligators, a pit of hungry lions, or a bottomless pit. The other door leads to immediate escape and safety.

Now think of those doors as justice and mercy. Except the doors aren't a mystery; they are clearly labelled. Seems like a pretty obvious choice. Jesus offers us the choice of mercy. His sacrifice allows us to enter Heaven through another door.

God's perfect justice will be served by both the sacrifice of Christ and by our contrition, in this life or in purgatory. Without Jesus the chasm between the door and Heaven is insurmountable. With Him, eternal bliss is ours.

On this Divine Mercy Sunday, let us be mindful that mercy is a free gift for all who choose to accept it. I don't claim to know the mind of God, but I'm going to step out on a limb and venture a guess that includes people who do heinous things but repent and chose the door of Christ's mercy. And if that's a tough pill to swallow, then maybe it's time to rethink your definition of mercy. How attractive is your sin before God?

Jesus I trust in you!
St. Faustina Kowalska, pray for us.
"Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy." (Matthew 5:7)