Specter of Pandemic
In late December and early January, the Wuhan virus was a distant trouble. It was an outbreak isolated to a province of China that few of us had ever heard of. As the virus crosses borders and continues to spread, we can now see the clouds forming on our own horizon. No longer is this a problem for people we’ve never met; it’s rapidly approaching our own communities.
I, like most people, have been giving this idea of a global pandemic quite a bit of thought. Covid-19, this new coronavirus, is rather mild. It’s less deadly than other recent outbreaks, such as SARS and Ebola. For many people, they have a mild course and recover. So why is this outbreak so frightening and disruptive?
On the one hand, it’s because we’re defenseless. Modern medicine can provide supportive care, but as of now, it can’t stop it. Vaccines are in development and, hopefully by this time next year, we’ll have one. For right now, all we can do is sit by and watch.
Covid-19 also inspires fear because we still don’t understand it. It’s totally new, and while we understand some of its cousin viruses, we don’t fully understand how this one spreads. Until we do, stopping it will be a major challenge.
All of this brings me back to two thoughts. First, we are called to care about those suffering around the world. If we ourselves cannot go and minister to them, then we must commit our resources to support those who can. Giving to missionary societies or Catholic Relief Services shoudn’t only be done during Lent and at the end of the year. Our help is needed daily. Second, this is a perfect reminder of the theological virtue of hope. Hope is the belief that God will do all that He has promised. Trying closely into the virtue of hope is the necessity to place our trust in God. God is our provider and He alone sustains us.
These are challenging times, and while there is hope that we will soon have a handle on this pandemic, its effects are likely to be felt in the months to come. In this season of Lent and this time of uncertainty we have the perfect reminder to place our trust in a God who loves and cares for us.
Kids and Lent
I’m always caught off guard by my kids gaining new abilities. They rarely tell me that they’re ready to take on new challenges. Then one day, O ask them to do a job, and they just go off and do it. Teaching them about our faith happens in the same way.
Kids experience tremendous growth from year to year. So as we start Lent and the springtime of the Church, your kids and mine are probably ready for deeper spiritual experiences than they were last year. It also means that we are in the perfect position to teach them the truth about Lent.
Lent is a penitential season, but it’s also one of preparation for the greatest joy of the year. Think of it like spring cleaning your yard. After the harshness of winter, weeds crop up, sticks that feel lay in the yard, and the flowerbeds are a mess. We spend time, working hard, to bring our yard back up to standards. We do this so that we can see the flowers and fruits blossom and grow as a result of our work.
Lent is spring cleaning of our souls. It’s an annual reminder that we need to drop what must be dropped and eliminate what must be eliminated. We don’t do it for sadistic purposes, but as a part of our process of constant renewal. We shouldn’t present Lent to our children as a season of sacrifice, but rather as a season of preparation. Sacrifice is a part of that preparation and they help us to refine ourselves, even if it means giving up temporarily something that God has given to us.
Catholicism and theological principles are never easy to break down for children, but our kids are incredibly receptive listeners. Thankfully, at the center of the teachings of the Church are simple truths. We are fallen creatures, and Lent is an annual opportunity to get rid of the clutter in our spiritual lives.
Let Us Go to God’s House
I spent a few hours on Saturday morning at a men’s retreat. The theme of this year’s retreat was “faith alive.” As a part of Morning Prayer, we prayed Psalm 122. In that Psalm, the people are rejoicing because they are going to God’s house.
Every week, thousands of Chinese citizens flout their authoritarian government to attend underground Catholic Churches. They risk arbitrary arrest and detention because they are aflame with the Spirit and they are totally committed to life as a Catholic Christian.
Yet in the West, where the practice of our faith involves little risk, people are streaming out of the Church. We’ve fallen into the trap of complacency. Most Catholics in America don’t even bother to make it to Mass every week, or even every month. We squander the riches of our faith that so many have fought and died to live out to the fullest.
The Psalmist describes people who are overcome with joy at the mere suggestion that they got to the temple. It’s time for us to wake up from our deep slumber and let that joy fill our hearts on Sunday mornings once again. Lent is a great time to spark that fire.
Teaching Kids Why
Our society is suffering from an intellectual sickness. We lack curiosity. Ideas are no longer challenged and explored, but instead are accepted on their face. This lack of curiosity is leading many to believe the false notion that faith has no role to play in the life of the post-modern man.
Teaching my kids anything, let alone the truth and beauty of Catholicism, is challenging. I have to find a way to clearly and succinctly express an idea, while ensuring that I’ve broken it down into a way that they can grasp. There are many resources to help me, but at the end of the day, my kids receive the message from me.
I was talking to a friend recently, and we discusses the idea that it’s no longer enough to teach the faith from a standpoint of authority. It’s not enough to share the truth, but we must share the why behind it. Too many people walk away from the Church each year. If they only had a spark of curiosity, they’d be led to the beautiful why behind every practice and tenet.
I’m not sure the best way to help my children learn to appreciate and refine their sense of curiosity. I do know that if I can spark that interest in them, they will eventually find what they’re seeking. It’s not enough to give them the Magisterium as as justification for why we believe what we believe. I must also give them the why for our joy.
Preparing for Lent
Ash Wednesday is a little more than two weeks away. The joy of the Christmas season is fading as we prepare for forty days of fasting and penance. Not quite as exciting. The truth is, Lent isn’t gloomy at all. It’s like the Catholic New Year, an opportunity not to flippantly give up something, but rather to become better people.
St. Francis of Assisi was not the hippy that we make him out to be. He took an intentional, hard core approach to refining himself in the image and likeness of God. He did nothing half-way, and in fact, desired to endure humiliation and mortification than any of us would be willing to undergo. At the center of his belief, of his lifelong pursuit, was a spirit of constant renewal. He wanted to take each day and do the things necessary to make him a better follower of Christ than he was the day before.
We have to stumbling blocks in Lent. The first is perfectionism. Like at the new year, we set out a rigid schedule to radically reshape our spirituality and daily life. We plan out what we’ll give up and what we’ll add, only to fall apart by the first Friday. Then, having failed, we give up and let the opportunity of Lent pass us by.
Maybe we need a jolt, maybe we need to fix a spiritual sickness that we’ve ignored for too long. Far better to be focused and make progress than to overturn the cart under the weight of expectation.
The second stumbling block is the tyranny of the daily. Every Lenten observance should be practiced regularly, but not necessarily daily. If you never pray the Rosary now, setting a goal of praying it every day is going to be a real stretch. Making it a part of your regular habit of meditation or praying the Rosary with your family once a week might be a better fit.
The spirit of Lent is not the 40 day timetable with breaks on Sunday. The spirit of Lent is the same one shared by St. Francis, constant renewal. What is the one area of your spiritual life that needs a boost? Plan your Lent around that, and when Easter comes, keep renewing.
Consistency
About the time that dinner ends each evening, I crash. My energy runs out, and I want nothing more than to get the kids into bed and sit down. Bedtime is a special time for little ones, and a golden opportunity to wrap up your day. It’s hard to embrace it for what it is when you need a break.
On those nights when I’m particularly tired, I’m tempted to skip elements of bedtime. Whether it be brushing teeth, reading a story, singing a song, or even family prayers, I always tell myself the lie that we can just do it tomorrow. I easily believe that one night won’t make a difference, but in a way, it does.
Bedtime routines aren’t just about the boxes getting checked, it’s a time for us all to be together. It’s a time to take care of each other emotionally, physically, and spiritually. It’s a subtle signal to tired little bodies that the day is done and it’s time to dream of angels.
Being consistent as a parent is the hardest thing to do, but it’s the most important thing to do. Building a framework for your children’s days helps them to know where they are and where they stand. If you brush their teeth every morning and every evening, they know that it’s something important to do. The same is true with family prayers and reading a story.
Consistency requires energy, but more importantly, it requires discipline. Perhaps it’s time for me to look at my schedule and see how I can preserve energy for another 15 minutes at the end of their day to ensure a smooth transition into bed.
Normalcy
It’s the last week of January, which means just about everyone’s New Years resolutions are forgotten. Gyms have emptied out, restaurants have removed their healthy menu options, and budgets sit on computers never to be touched again. How did the hope of 2020 fade so quickly? For many, it was because their life change was built on the fallacy of normalcy.
I find it incredibly easy to sit down at my desk and write a vision for my ideal week. We’ll spend Monday cleaning, go on an adventure on Tuesday, visit the library and park on Wednesday, and so on. Having a plan is excellent, but what happens when I wake up on Monday morning to two sick kids? Eh, I’ll do my ideal week next Monday when things are perfect again.
That’s the trap.
Normal isn’t perfect. There’s no perfect week, ideal budget, or flawless workout plan. All of the things that we want to do happen within the context of life. Life is messy. Kids will be sick, your boss will put you in a bad mood, you’ll have to take an unexpected trip, you’ll get a bad night’s sleep, there will be an unexpected expense, you and your wife will fight, and someone will total your car while you’re trying to start a new business. Plans are upended almost as soon as they’re set.
Despite the waves of life, plans must be made. If you don’t plan to live a healthier life, or build a more robust interior life, or spend more time playing with your kids, you absolutely won’t do any of those things. You have to plan when you’d like to go for a walk, but be okay rescheduling for a different time during the day. You have to plan to pray, but be okay with changing the format when you grow bored and restless. You have to plan to play with your kids, even if you play in different ways with different groupings at different times.
If you can only build the better version of yourself when things are normal, that better version will always be out of reach. Get the work done, even if it’s imperfect and even if it’s not on schedule.
Cherish Your Children
After several months of vacation, I’ve gotten back into my routine of walking each morning before the kids get up. My day can be very exhausting, so by getting my mind and body right before the sun comes up, I’m better prepared to take on the challenges of being a stay-at-home parent.
In the big picture, it’s easy to say that I love my children, that I cherish them, and that I value them as human persons. In the day-to-day, it’s much more difficult. To be a parent is to be the ultimate servant. My name is invoked more times per minute than Alexa. Every day, I complete the same tasks, some of which are quite unpleasant, for the sake of their health and welfare.
If I cherish my children, and I want there to be no doubt of my love in their little minds and hearts, then I need to arrange my life to communicate that. They must come first in my day. When they’re awake, my time looking at a screen needs to be minimal. If I want to go on a walk without distraction, I need to do it while they’re fast asleep. Anything that I must accomplish needs to be scheduled so that I can involve them or do it while they’re playing or coloring.
It’s a tall order. In fact, it’s nearly impossible. Trying to meet this high standard regularly brings me to my breaking point. But my son won’t be six forever, and my daughter won’t be toddling for much longer. I can do anything for a short period of time. Plus. I’ll have all the time in the world to enjoy the silence and a slower pace when they’ve grown and moved out on their own. For today, for right now, I need to be rolling around on the floor with them.
Seeking Rest
As the stay-at-home parent in my family, I struggle with the tension of rest. There are some days when I feel completely drained and I can’t wait for Alison to walk in the door so that someone else can take over watching the kids. The dilemma is that I know that Alison has been busy working all day, too. How can I reconcile handing off the kids when I know that she’s been through more than me? What do you do when you feel exhausted and know there’s no break on the horizon?
I’ve found that with for growth leap and schedule change that my kids go through, I simply have to adapt. There are things that I must do. I must go to bed at the same time and wake up at the same time. I must eat three meals a day, plus a snack or two. I must drink water. Outside of those needs, the key to feeling rested is not what it seems.
When I feel too tired to pick up or clean the kitchen, that’s exactly what I need to do. I get a burst of energy from accomplishing something. Plus, I always feel better the next day when I don’t have to start by finishing up what I didn’t get done the day before. There’s something about a lack of clutter that is relaxing. The same is true for exercise. My preferred exercise is walking for an hour, or about 4 miles. That steady pace over the course of 60 minutes always leaves me pumped up for the day.
Rest is something deep; it’s finding a sense of peace. You can only get that peace when you fulfill your responsibilities and take care of your physical needs. That may mean waking up earlier, trying a different order of to-dos, or even including your kids in your wellness routine. Laziness likes to dress itself up as rest, but it’s a mistake to fall for that.
When you feel tired and you still have lots more to do, especially at the end of the day, find something that you love and incorporate into your tasks. Enjoy the uninterrupted time, listen to an audiobook or a podcast, or maybe even your parent-only dance mix. You might be surprised just how rested you feel the next morning.
Twenty Twenty Focus
The constant rushing of life can feel crushing. Like the overwhelming power of a waterfall, events and information come at me in a daily deluge. There’s so much to do, a set amount of time, and my energy levels are not always aligned to my workload. Last year, I began paying closer attention to the things to which I was giving my attention.
In the process of developing my sense of self-awareness, I recognized the peace that comes with meditation and prayer. Sitting still for even just 10 minutes at a time is a strange feeling. It’s an activity in which there’s nothing to do and no new information being presented to my brain. Distractions and thoughts percolate, but when I’m meditating, I have permission to not act.
Choosing to not act is a difficult one, especially when an idea presents itself. I’ll be meditating and wonder what the weather will be like tomorrow or I’ll remember some task left undone. Instinctively, I reach for my phone to check the weather or record the task. Through a decade of smartphone use, I’ve destabilized myself to the point where even in these brief periods of time that I’ve set aside for no distraction, I feel pulled to action.
When I have a migraine, the best thing that I can do for myself is to make a delicious meal. But when I have a migraine, the last thing that I want to do is spend the time and energy to prepare a delicious meal. The same is true for taking time for meditation. The days when I need it the most are the days that I feel the greatest resistance.
Meditation is popular right now, but meditation isn’t a life hack. Its purpose is connection, not creation. It’s communication, not consumption. Meditation is time set apart for personal, intimate conversation with God. Meditation is me taking God up on his multiple promises to give me rest.
My focus for 2020 is perfecting my fundamentals. Instead of focusing on achieving something new, I’m going to work on consistently doing those daily activities that cause me to live a more fulfilling life. Daily meditation is as fundamental as it gets.