Catholic Husband

Love / Lead / Serve


Summer vacation is finally here, and the kids are off with their grandparents for two weeks. Alison and I drove home yesterday and, for the first time in nearly three years, are home alone.

Although we slept in this morning, and were slow to start our day, we were unbelievably productive before lunch. I made it through my whole list for the day, and the house feels clean and refreshed.

Life with small children is never easy, but it’s always full of great meaning and beauty. I’ll enjoy the quiet time ahead, focusing on what needs to be done. But I’ll look forward to when my children return, and things are less quiet.

New Beginnings

Growing up in a military family, moving was always a fact of life. Now with a family of my own, we’ve certainly moved a few times, but never like before.

A new beginning is just around the corner. After six years of life, and conquering Alison and I’s number one goal, it’s time to move on to new opportunities, and new right steps for her career and our family.

We're starting to take things off the wall, preparing for painting and putting the house on the market. As I took that first hook out of the wall, I felt that moving feeling that filled my childhood. As the fresh paint dried, my nose picked up on that familiar scent that always signaled something new.

Our adventure continues, hopefully opening up broader horizons and brighter futures.

Garage Doors

In my ideal world, our house would be clean all the time. Things pulled out for play would be put away, and I’d stay on top of the dishes in the kitchen and the bits of paper that always seem to float around.

Late last month, our garage door gave up on life and broke on a Friday morning. About to run errands, I was unable to get the car out. Some crafty strategy and I got Alison’s car home, so we were at least able to get moving.

Late last week, the repairman came and fixed the current door, with the caveat that we should just leave it open since it’s likely to break again. So, for two weeks now, our garage door has been open at all times.

Normally, I strive to keep the garage tidy, and most days I’m successful. Lately, though, I’ve just let it go. The weather is nice, and the kids are playing outside more during the day, including with toys that are stored in the garage.

The pile continues to grow, but instead of trying to fix the problem, I’m just letting it be. It’s an exercise in patience, especially since it’ll be another two weeks before the door is fixed. For now, things are broken, and accepting the chaos is an okay thing to do.


The cold days of winter are behind us as the days grow warmer and spring fills all of us with a sense of newness. As we near the end of the school year, in the midst of this newness, my thoughts are turning back to my family’s daily rhythm.

At the beginning of the school year, we were very dedicated to our routine. Although it was familiar each day, we checked things off our list in the same order each morning. Among those routines were clear opening and closings for our school day. As the year dragged on, and the workload increased, those routines faded away.

I’ve built a new routine, to carry us through the upcoming months, and I’ve designed it towards a rhythm of prayer. Not a burdensome schedule, but a monastic one adapted for our domestic life. I want to have checkpoints sprinkled throughout our day, with short opportunities for prayer. In a way, it’s like water stations along a race route. I never want us to be too far from prayer.

Real life is very normal, routine, and frankly boring. The same is true for the lives of the saints, including St. Joseph. He was an anonymous tradesman in a village of 200 people. But out of that ordinariness, something beautiful bloomed. I hope that our rhythm of prayer does the same for us.

Fruits of Labor

The feast of St. Joseph the Worker is an important reminder in our modern era of the holiness of work. As the pendulum swings back from the worship of workaholics, we’re in danger of losing sight of the fruits of labor.

In the past few decades, as the Internet changed the workplace, the lines between life and work became blurred, almost to the point of extinction. The pandemic of 2020 ushered in not only remote work, but a faux focus on mental wellness that looked a lot like laziness.

It’s true that working to excess, harming your other responsibilities, is bad, but so is idleness. As we try to reclaim balance, we can look to St. Joseph as our model.

St. Joseph was a tradesman who had a very hard life. He’d walk miles each way to job sites, work in the hot and dusty climate of the Middle Easy, and carefully craft raw wood into finished products using simple tools. He labored during the day, and rested on the Sabbath. Not only that, but he brought his son into his work, teaching him the trade. We can only imagine the conversations that they had. On the holiest day of the week, he prayed and rested as God desires.

Joseph’s example demonstrates the value of work. We fill our time creating products, experiences, and value for others. We then use our compensation to support our family and lifestyle. The virtuous cycle of the economy rewards us for work done well, and we can find a degree of satisfaction in days well spent.

Work is a good and virtuous thing, but we should be ever mindful of how too much of a good thing can have unintended consequences. When it’s time to work, do great work. When it’s time to rest, delight in rest. When it’s time to play, play with your family. When it’s time to pray, pray with your whole heart. In this way, we’ll follow in the footsteps of St. Joseph, who will always lead us to his son.