Lent. Oops.
If you can recall, I started Lent with a lot of confidence. Well, I planned for it with a lot of confidence. My plans relied on a faulty expectation that I would live this Lent perfectly. As it happens, my titling the post “IRL,” or “in real life,” made it as real as it gets.
Holy Week is upon us and the joy of Easter is bubbling up in my heart. Now is a good time to evaluate how Lent went and, well, it went as well as it began.
Ash Wednesday was in the middle of the brutal Winter storms and Polar Vortex that enveloped the entire country. My plan to not eat out crumbled immediately. In fact, it took almost three weeks for my grocery store to get back to regular levels of food stock. Ditto for the kids watching TV. Our habit in that regard is still much the same.
So, what of this failure? Was it even a failure at all? No. This was not my one shot-at-the-moon chance to completely remake my life into a perfect disciple. In fact, Lent is a reminder of the need for constant renewal. Not singular, not one-and-done, but constant. This idea, which inspired the life and work of St. Francis, always inspires me to get up and try again. I do a lot of falling.
While I ate out just as much as I usually do, and while my kids continued to watch TV more than I prefer, the fact is, this was a very fruitful Lent. I completed the renewal of my consecration to St. Joseph and have enjoyed the closeness that the process brings. I find myself praying more throughout the day, and have made meaningful strives to seek God’s Will in my day-to-day life.
We think too little of Lent, aim to do small sacrifices when, in reality, the true calling is to sacrifice everything. Our pride, our ambition, and our goals get in the way of God’s perfect plan for us. If anything, this Lent is a reminder that my plans are not worth pursuing, only His are.
The Family Home
Alison and I bought our first home last year. Leading up to the purchase, I failed to anticipate how much different ownership would make me feel. I figured it was a simple transaction in which we traded one house we were living in for another. I was so wrong.
A few months in and we’re getting more settled by the day. Our weekly routine, where we play, where we read, and where we hang out are all well established. Now that we have a good sense of the house, we’re ready to make our mark. Our home has suffered from a bit of neglect and, thankfully, most repairs and improvements are simple.
With Spring here, we started work in earnest on the exterior last weekend. We spent all afternoon on Saturday working our way around the house, punching things off our list. I cleaned a gutter that wasn’t draining properly, Alison replanted a flowerbed by our mailbox. We pulled down an unused satellite dish, fixed a dilapidated gate, and removed dozens of yards of superfluous wiring. I bought a chainsaw, our new favorite tool, and we cut down our first bush. It was a very full afternoon.
The whole time while Alison and I were working, our kids ran around playing. They’d climb my ladder, help Alison dig, check out various tools, and explore their kingdom. Veronica happily (at least for a bit) rolled around in her playpen. She also spent a fair amount of time sitting up, watching people work.
As I stood on the ladder vacuuming debris out of the gutter, I realized how satisfying it is to be a homeowner. I’m empowered to address any issue and do so on my schedule. Each afternoon of work leaves our home that much better.
I completed my second Consecration to St. Joseph last week. Throughout that process, several times a day, I’d think about him, his life, and his titles. As we worked out in the yard, I thought about how Joseph worked to make the Holy Family’s home more comfortable. He had to take care of all the little things, just like me.
Our connection to the saints, is something exceptional within the theology of Catholicism. These holy men and women were people, just like us. They lived mostly ordinary lives except for their extraordinary virtue. If St. Joseph could attain holiness in the simple act of patching a hole in his home’s wall or addressing a leak from the roof, so can I.
Milestones
This week will mark the eighth anniversary of this blog. We live in a hurried and distracted culture, one in which we assume that longevity means success. I don’t think that’s true in general, and it’s certainly not true with this blog.
In many ways, this blog is the journal of my adult life. I started it months before my first child was born. Now, I’m at home with four little ones and running our homeschool operation. As I write this post, I look out the window and see three of my children playing cooperatively, and happily, in the backyard. The lessons that I’ve learned, and in many cases relearned, are woven in posts throughout the years.
Catholic Husband is a rough draft. Imperfections can be found in each post, whether they be grammatical errors or the transparency of my mistakes. Taking the time to write about my life and experiences gives me an opportunity to process events and understand the deeper lessons. The blog has grown with me, and will continue to do so.
Spring is upon us, with flowering trees heralding the change in season. As I start to look two years down the road at the 10 year milestone, I want to continue to improve. I want to continue learning life’s lessons as they come, day by day. I also want to firm up and modernize this blog. The nature of life is impermanence, but it’s within my control to ensure that this blog stays on the web. I will be going through the more than 800 posts and correcting grammatical mistakes. I’ll also be taking steps to bring this blog into conformity with modern web standards, ensuring that it can continue to be accessible fare into the future.
While I’m still young, the reality of adulthood slowly creeps into my conscience. When Alison and I are at Mass, and we’re simultaneously praying and wrangling four kids, I often marvel at what we’re able to accomplish. We started this project together, and together we’re raising our family. It’s my sincere hope that by continuing this blog, I will keep growing in my vocation to love, lead, and serve my family.
A Day of Play
This weekend was pretty special. My father-in-law is in town for the week. He came for a visit and to assemble a playground for my kids in our new backyard. On Sunday, we came home from Mass and went outside to play for a bit and eat our lunch. We then stayed outside until dinner time.
It was a beautiful afternoon. The warm sun shone down on us in a clear blue sky. Alison took down some more chicken wire and picked up bricks that were inexplicably strew across our backyard. I cleaned up my workbench, swept the garage, and washed cars. Grandpa got to play and play with the kids on their new fort.
There was something cathartic about a day well spent, and one spent outside. It’s been a long, hard winter. More than that, we’re all fatigued from a year of being cooped up. An entire afternoon spent in the great outdoors and checking off projects just felt good. I breathed deeply and felt the hope that comes with the first signs of Spring.
In the eight years that I’ve shared my thoughts and life on this blog, I’ve observed many times that idleness seems like rest, but rarely is. When the sun went down and the kids tucked into their beds, I spent another 90 minutes cleaning and tidying up inside. I felt tired. That tired feeling that affirms that I spent my day the right way, using it to accomplish good work.
Work and play may be exhausting, but they can also be restorative. I’m going to try to spend more days working, playing, and praying.
I Know What to Do
I know what I need to do. I know what habits and activities leave me feeling rejuvenated, and which leave me feeling sluggish. Waking up on time and taking those precious pre-dawn hours for myself always leaves me ready to serve my family. Drinking water and fueling my body with the right foods prepares me to tackle the challenges of the day. If I know what I need to do, why don’t I do it?
After more than a decade of trial and error, I finally have a combination of treatments that soothes my migraines and gets me back to life. So, when I wake up feeling the pain, why do I delay my treatment? I don’t have to feel bad all day long. I can be back to myself within two hours, if I make the right choice.
A fruitful spiritual life comes in seasons. There are times of abundance, and times of dryness. I know the steps to move me beyond feeling drained, I just need to shake up the habit.
Every time I face boredom or laziness, I know the solution. I know the steps to take to improve my physical health, and I know the steps to take to improve my spiritual health. I just need to be brave enough to take the first step, which is always the hardest.
A Week of Warmth
It was a week of snow and ice, sleet and freezing rain. It was a week of downed power lines, rolling blackouts, and water boil advisories. Not only that, but it was a week of blistering cold, scarce food, and misery. But in my house, it was a week of warmth.
The Polar Vortex that plunged our country into a deep freeze touched people from coast to coast. Over 75% of the nation was covered in snow. Widespread power outages and impassible roads sent many communities into chaos. I watched in advance as the seven-day weather forecast predicted a catastrophic weather event. It came to pass, but my home was protected.
It was cold, indeed, and we had our fair share of snow and ice. All week, with Alison’s office closed, my family stayed home. Morning after morning, we looked outside at a serene winter landscape, preparing for the moment when the power would go out and a deep cold would set it. The moment never came.
Instead, we had a wonderful week as a family. We tackled projects together, played games together, and even had time to play out in the snow. I credit this week of blessings to the protection of St. Joseph.
I launched this blog eight years ago on his feast day, and I share his name, along with my father, my brother, and my son. Last year, I consecrated myself to St. Joseph, and this week I began the 33-day preparation to renew that consecration. Each day and each night, I prayed for his protection over my family and our home. And each day, through his intercession, we were safe and warm.
St. Joseph protected his family as he walked through the desert to Egypt. He protected his family during their time in a foreign land, and all the way back home. This week, he protected my family. For his intercession, I am grateful.
Lent IRL
We’re two days away from the start of Lent. Over the past decade, my views on the Lenten season have evolved to the point where I’m excited to get started. The redemptive and purifying nature of the season, the call to universal holiness and constant renewal, really appeal to me. I’ve pondered my game plan for weeks. This Lent, I’m swinging for the fences.
I quit social media three years ago and deleted my Google account two years ago. Part of my motivation was to relieve myself of the negative emotions that those companies drive. The true evil that they not only cultivate, but prop up in furtherance of their business interests is clear to all. These advertising companies, pretending to be technology companies, must continue their program of social engineering and customer manipulation to increase page views and revenue. The sad truth is that the Internet, set up to be a beacon of freedom and a marketplace of ideas, is now locked down and intellectually impoverished.
It’s not enough for me to get off social media. I want to experience more headspace and put more distance between me and the negativity that abounds online. I’ve decided that the best route is to stop consuming the Internet. I need to go to websites with intentionality and, when I’m done, put down my device and move on.
So, the first part of my Lenten journey is to stop surfing. I have subscribed via RSS to a few sites and that’ll be it. Oof, that’s an adjustment. I anticipate having more time to pray, work, and play.
The second part of my sacrifice is also geared towards a better me: no eating out. Eating out is fast, convenient, and easy. During this Lent, a brand new Chick-fil-a will open up 7 minutes from my house. By not eating out, I will have to daily engage three times a day in the act of love that is preparing meals for my family.
The last part will be to limit TV time to 30 minutes per day for my kids, guarded by a timer. When the timer goes off, so does the TV.
Throughout all of this sacrifice, I expect to gain something tangible each day: time. I’ll seek to invest that time increasing spiritual opportunities for my kids, and doing more of the things that I’d like to do with them each day.
Lent is meant to be purifying, but its spirit of constant renewal also calls us to permanent life change. If I set about these three objectives, and carry them on past Easter, I’ll be a better man.
Building Your Domestic Church
What’s the difference between a priest and a husband? In a word: scale. What the priest does for his community, a husband must do for his family. We tend to think of the Church in the macro: a global movement with hierarchy, structure, customs, and laws. In reality, the Church is both macro and micro: what happens on the large scale is closely mirrored in the daily lives of its families. In fact, when you consider just how closely the life of the family imitates the life of the Church, it becomes evident just how inseparable the two are.
The priest offers sacrifices, feeds his flock, counsels those in trouble, and tends to the needs of the community. In the same way, I am called to do the same for my family.
The Church consists of the Universal and the Domestic. The Universal Church is that macrostructure that we know. It’s the Pope, the Bishops, the ordained, the professed religious, the laity, and the collective good works that we do. Binding us together is the Eucharist and our shared, global liturgy. We’re encouraged and strengthened by the graces transmitted through the sacraments. Within that Universal Church is the myriad of domestic churches, that is to say, families. The life of the family flows from and gives life to the Universal Church. The life and grace of the Universal Church flows to and strengthens the family. In this harmonious union, the churches work together for the salvation of souls and the good of mankind.
In the Acts of the Apostles, we read about how the early Christians lived in community. They sold all that they had, put the proceeds at the feet of the apostles, and it was doled out according to need. This plays out so beautifully in the family. The parents deposit their paycheck into a shared account, and the proceeds are divided out according to the need of each member of the family.
We rely too much on those in the clerical state and the universal Church to provide for the spiritual needs and education of our family. In reality, they’re there to support husbands and fathers. It’s up to us to shepherd our families and catechize our children. Hopefully, your children have many wonderful priests, nuns, and brothers as examples in their lives. But their primary example of what it means to be a Catholic, what it means to live a holy and virtuous life, is you.
The Domestic Church may sound quaint, but it’s vitally important. It’s the training ground for saints, and the classroom of Catholicism. It may feel like an overwhelming task, but it’s the vocation that you were called to. Along with that calling comes the grace necessary to fulfill your calling.
Scripture Under the Stars
Many times on this blog, I’ve shared my love of walking. It’s the exercise that I most enjoy, and I’m now eight years into this routine. The habit comes and goes, but there are two truths that I’ve gained from my experience. After two weeks of walking every day, I notice a real difference in how I feel and my momentum is hard to stop.
It was in the latest iteration of my walking habit that I came across a new podcast. As it usually goes, I was rearranging apps on my phone to put my physical health front and center on my home screen. I needed to download the _Magnificat_ app, when I saw my old friend, _Hallow_. In the description, they noted that you could now listen to Fr. Mike Schmitz’s _Bible in a Year_ podcast.
I fired up my podcast player, and sure enough, there it was. Fr. Mike is posting podcasts every day throughout 2021. Episodes, around 20 minutes each, start with him reading chapters from the Bible, followed by prayer, and a short lesson on the stories that he read.
That evening, I went for my walk. I usually listen to podcasts as I quietly move through my neighborhood, and I set the _Bible in a Year_ podcast to go first. Naturally, Day One covered chapters 1 and 2 of Genesis. I walked in the cold winter evening, beneath a clear sky with the stars on full display, as I listened to and prayed the Creation story.
One of the greatest fruits of this pandemic is the new horizons of ministry that are now open. No longer is the default reaching people at Mass on Sunday. Many courageous digital missionaries have seized the media tools of our modern era and employed them in the spreading of the Gospel. We all benefit from this wide availability of spiritual resources.
In my busy day, I’m hard-pressed for time. I’ve carved out as much as I can for myself and, unfortunately, I don’t regularly find quiet time to sit down and open the Bible. Now, thanks to Fr. Mike and Ascension Press, the first fruits of my day can be given over to prayer. I can start my morning quietly hearing the Word and carry it with me throughout the day.
There’s something romantic and very human about walking under the stars at night. Even more meaningful is the spiritual element of taking that sacred time to walk with God and listen to His Word for my life.
Off the Wagon
After years of practice and observation, I know the keep components that I need to build up physical health. I need to walk for an hour daily, drink lots of water, read in the evening before bed, and go to sleep and wake up at about the same time. These are not new ideas, they are not even really negotiable. When I do them all over a sustained period of time, usually two weeks, I feel the difference.
The body is the Temple of the Holy Spirit, the living Tabernacle that welcomes Christ the King to physically dwell within it each week during Mass. St. Francis was, by modern standards, notoriously stingy. He eschewed almost all comfort and certainly any degree of wealth. He taught his brothers to beg for everything: project materials, food, shelter, clothing. However, when it came to spending on things for the Lord, he was extravagant! Francis insisted that the Churches be furnished with things that befitted the King of the Universe. If God comes to dwell within me, I should prepare myself spiritually and physically to receive him.
When I’m off the wagon and out of sync, it’s difficult to get back on track. I have my share of false starts and, though I’m tempted to give up, I somehow persist. Eventually, I get back on track and staying the course becomes that much easier, it becomes routine.
The same should be true in our spiritual life. I’d be willing to bet that all of us are still confessing at least one sin that we’ve struggled with for more than a decade. Every time we go to Confession, it’s on the list.
From the outside, a fair critique would be that we ought to give up on trying to erase that sin. If we’ve confessed it for the better part of a decade, why not just accept it as a character flaw and focus on something else? Though we may be tempted to feel this sense of hopelessness (and even despair), it’s at that precise moment that our faith tells us to carry on.
Holiness is the work of a lifetime. By our returning to the Sacrament of Reconciliation, month after month, year after year, we attest to the fact that we’ve not yet given up. We seek another fresh start to try to overcome. That is the true Christian life: constant examination, constant work, constant renewal.
Physical health and spiritual health are two sides of the same coin. The human person is integrated, each component and system symbiotically impacting and effecting the other. To care for the physical self is to care for the spiritual self. To care for the spiritual self is to care for the emotional self.
When we’re off the wagon of our daily routine, or off the wagon of our spiritual routine, we must have the courage and hope to persist. One day, with the right combination of actions, we’ll be back on track and ready to welcome the King on Sunday morning.