Footprints on the Fridge

Beauty in the Ashes

Lenten mantle reminder: Forty Days in the Desert

As we approach Holy Week this year, I am having to rethink the way in which I would normally do things.  Most years, the effort of Holy Week in this house is to find age appropriate ways to make the reality of the Passion of Christ real for my children, so that they may truly experience the joyful exultation of Easter.  This year, real life has changed the perspective a bit. And it's hard.

To be honest, I wish we had needed this Lent.  I wish that all the superficial reminders that we are dust were necessary.  I wish the reality of suffering and death were far removed from our lives and we needed a wake up call. But the truth is we've been living life on the Via Dolorosa for some time now.  Death's sting is palpable in this house. The transient nature of the world is all too real.  The reality that the only eternal joy is in heaven is unfairly ours.  And the deep, desperate hope of Resurrection is the rallying cry of our spirits.  It alone makes us rise each day and begin again. My kids know the horror of death more than I ever imagined they would at such tender ages.  They know what it means to close up the tomb and wait. And they don't need any further reminders.

Lenten Mantle: the Pieta and the Three Pillars of Lent

What they need this Holy Week are gentle ways to live the liturgy, to see the beauty in the ashes. The hope of Sunday's reality needs to be sweet and joyful and tangible, but the references to death and its sting need to be quiet and gentle.  So my regular rotation of Stations of the Cross and watching the second half of Jesus of Nazareth in the evenings and attending the very realistic Living Way of the Cross at the local university are put on hold this year.  There will be Mass and Confession at some point.  There will be Eucharistic Adoration and the Sorrowful Mysteries of the Rosary.  But mostly, there will be gentle beauty and quiet, hopeful healing for little hearts (and bigger ones too, I suppose).

Each day this week, we'll let a lovely picture book sharpen our focus and lead us through this week's reflections with gentleness and beauty.  Then we'll quietly create something lovely, another gentle reminder of the beauty in the ashes. 

Holy Week at Home 2010:

The Legend of the Easter Egg, Easter Eggs for Anya, and Rechenka's Eggs: We'll read these books and do a more age appropriate version of Pysanky here.  Using wooden eggs with a flattened out bottom (so they stand on their own), the kids will pencil draw a design, then trace over it a Sharpie marker.  Then they'll paint in the design with craft paint.  When that layer of paint is dry, they will go over their marker lines with puff paint to create a raised design.  I'm hoping the effect will be quite nice and the process rewarding for them.

The Little Rose of Sharon: We'll read this one and then make red and white ribbon roses.  We'll tie on day's prayer of the Divine Mercy novena to each of nine roses and put them in a vase on the mantle. We'll untie each prayer as we pray it and put it away.  On Divine Mercy Sunday, I'll put the ribbon roses away until next year and replace them with real ones.

The Tale of Three Trees: We'll follow this one up with a spring walk in the woods and pretzel making for Good Friday. 

Fiona French's Easter: This book, which contains the words of the Easter story from the King James Bible and beautiful stained glass illustrations will be our Easter Saturday read aloud. Afterwards, we'll make our own stained glass windows by coloring printed coloring pages of Easter scenes (not the bunny kind, the Jesus kind) and then covering the edges with coloring tissue paper glued down, and oiling the backside with baby oil on a cotton ball.  When they are dry, we frame them in black paper frames and hang them in the windows as Easter decorations.  We'll make a new Alleluia to hang across the mantle using the same technique.

I hope you all find some inspiration for bringing Holy Week to life in your home.  We will carry you with us in prayer this week and can't wait to celebrate the joy of the Resurrection with you.

For Palm Sunday

We are doing our Palm Sunday reading and crafting today as we are heading out for a weekend visit with the grandparents and cousins this evening.  This morning as I read to the boys from our selected readings I was reminded how well loved our Palm Sunday read aloud is. They all began to chatter excitedly when I held it up and then the little boys made me reread it multiple times.

 

Little Colt's Palm Sunday is written in rhyming text and is the story of a little donkey who is having trouble falling asleep and asks his mother for a story.  She tells him the story of his great-great grandpa who once carried the King of Kings.  The next day the donkeys' owner takes them to town where the little colt is borrowed by two men because the Lord has need of him.  The story is charming,  the rhyming text flows quite naturally, and the illustrations lovely.  My kids are captivated by this book and I am grateful to have such a lovely way to illustrate the meaning of Palm Sunday to them. I'm hoping to add this one to our list next year as well.

This afternoon we'll make handprints palms with "Hosanna" down the center and add them to our Lenten mantle.

On Sunday evening, when we get home from our weekend away, we'll have passionfruit juice (since this Sunday is also known as Passion Sunday) and Jessica's amazing trifle which we will use to symbolize that even though we are saddened that Christ had to shed His blood for us (the red), we are filled with gratitude that by His sacrifice, we are washed clean (the white). 

I hope you all have a blessed beginning to your Holy Week.

The Triduum Tree

Here is what has been happening on our mantle during the days of the Triduum:

On Holy Thursday, we used this pitcher and towel to wash one another's feet.

And watched our caterpillar climb to the limb of our tree. 

On Good Friday, this we added this Crown of Thorns bread to our mantle:

As we made it, I asked the boys to touch the tooth picks to their heads to feel the prick, then to imagine the pain that Jesus felt as the thorns pierced His head.  Then we talked about how our sins cause Jesus pain and how we want to win the crown of glory one day.  Tomorrow the boys will find the thorns removed and the crown filled with jelly bean "jewels."

And our caterpillar disappeared into his cocoon, just as Jesus appears to be no longer with us, it seems our caterpillar has gone away.  But he is here, and he is undergoing an amazing transformation(Can you spot the cocoon?):

And we spent some time this afternoon making wee felt saints.  Nap time for the little ones went by quickly, so we only got through three, but we are quite proud of them, and will continue to work on our collection.

Here are St. Anne and a wee little Mary at her side:

And St. Bernadette:

And lovely St. Cecilia and her harp:

If you want to join us as our tree springs to life through Easter, here is what will be happening the next week:

On Easter Sunday, a butterfly will emerge from the cocoon and the tree's limbs will be covered with 50 small sprouts, which will bud into leaves one at a time throughout the Easter season.  We'll look for signs of new life in the natural world, and replace our evening Examination of Conscience with a meditation on signs on new life in our souls (I'll post it here for you Monday.)

The purple bow on the tree's trunk will be replaced with a white one.

On Mercy Sunday, red and white rain drops will fall on the tree and we'll discuss how God's mercy is as necessary to our spiritual growth as water is to plants.

More plans to come, stick with us as our tree and our hearts experience the beautiful, full rhythm of the church's seasons.

Holy Week at Home

A while back, Jenn asked if anyone had experience using one theme throughout the liturgical year.  This got me thinking.  We use our "liturgical line" (our mantle and a ribbon clothesline stretched across it) to mark the feasts and seasons of the church.  But I thought the boys could really benefit from a single visual that illustrated the changes in the liturgical seasons in a new way.  Jenn's suggestion of a tree got the ball rolling and this week , in addition to our liturgical line, I'll be presenting our "liturgical tree" to the boys.

This is what our line looks like right now:    The image of the Sacred Heart is covered and the crucifix stands in its place.

 

The box with the cross on it contains the Alleluia letters that we boxed up on Ash Wednesday.  The small frames contain pictures of St. Joseph and St. Patrick (they usually hold an image of the month's devotion and the day's saint if there is one).  They will be removed tomorrow evening. 

The items on the clothesline are reminders of the three pillars of Lent:                                                                        

And the word REPENT:

This week, the line will undergo these changes:

SUNDAY: Blessed palms placed on the mantle in the vase

MONDAY: Items taken down from line and replaced with first four Stations of the Cross

TUESDAY: Saints' images removed, fifth through eighth stations added

WEDNESDAY: Rest of Stations added

THURSDAY: towel and pitcher of water placed on mantle for washing of the feet

FRIDAY: Crown of Thorns bread placed on mantle

                              "I take frozen bread dough (saves time) and twist it into a braid and then into a circle making sure the ends are together.Then after it has risen the last time the children and I place the sharp round toothpicks all over the braid. Then we bake. Don't stick them in too far as you want it to look like a crown with thorns sticking out."

SATURDAY: No changes, but we'll dye eggs and make Resurrection cookies which will replace the Crown of Thorns bread on Easter Sunday.

SUNDAY:  The image in the center of the mantle will be the Divine Mercy.  The vase will be filled with fresh lilies, the little box will be opened and ALLELUIA will hang across the line.  All cloths will be changes to gold.

Tomorrow, the boys will find this hanging in the dining/school room: 
Throughout the week, we will talk about the different aspects of the tree.  First I'll introduce the concept and let them know that this tree is a symbol of our hearts and we will watch it change throughout the year all the way until this week next year, letting it remind us what we should be focusing on in each season of our church.

Then I'll have the kids take a look at the trees in our yard and describe what they're like.  We'll talk about the fact that the cold of winter has stripped them of their leaves and seemingly of life.  We'll reflect on how the cold of sin strips our heart of the life of Christ within us and how throughout Lent we have focused on repenting of those things which make us bare and lifeless.

On Easter, the sun (SON) will appear to shine on our tree and its purple bow will be replaced with gold. Throughout the fifty days of Easter, our tree will begin to sprout green leaves, new life in Christ.  On Mercy Sunday, rain will fall on our tree, drenching us in His mercy.

That little caterpillar symbolizes Jesus.  He'll make his way up the tree this week, until he spins himself into a cocoon on Good Friday.  On Easter Sunday, a lovely little butterfly will flit about our tree.  It will fly away on Ascension Thursday and we will wait for what it promises to send in its place.  On Pentecost Sunday, a dove will nest in the branches of our tree, the Holy Spirit, our advocate.

This week we'll read The Tale of Three Trees and discuss it as well.

I invite you to follow us on our tree's journey.  I'll post only photos of the changes this week, but will give you more details of our plans for the Easter season later.

A blessed Holy Week to you all. 

Willing and Eager

From the day's First Reading:

"Tend the flock of God in your midst, overseeing not by constraint, but willingly...Do not lord it over those assigned to you, but be an example to the flock.  And when the chief Shepherd is revealed, you will receive the unfading crown of glory."

It doesn't get much clearer than that, does it?  There is no question for those of us who live in families which flock of God we're to tend.  The question needing to be answered is a matter of the heart.  What keeps us from tending our flock willingly?  What makes us irritable, short-tempered, and overwhelmed?  What makes us want to run away from it all for a few hours or day or....What prevents us from being an example to our flock?  In my experience, when I find myself fussing, pointing my finger, and honing in on my family's shortcomings, it's usually because I'm feeling the sting of my own faults rather acutely.  What brings on those episodes in your life? Lent is  a time to remove the blocks in our lives that keep us from following God with our whole hearts.  God's will for us and our path to heaven are to tend the flock of our family willingly and eagerly.  What is in our way?  There's still enough Lent left to get rid of it. 

For me right now, the answer is STUFF.  We've got  to get a handle on the things in this home that are crowding our time, our space, our thoughts, and our hearts.  When we were serving in foreign mission, it was quite obvious that stuff was a detriment to following the will of God.  You definitely cannot get on a plane and go where God calls if you've got too much stuff.  In those days, everything I owned fit into a few rubbermaid bins and four large duffel bags.  Now clearly, managing a life here and keeping a home asks something a bit different of me, but over time, I have forgotten the point of one of the most important lessons learned by our missionary service: stuff gets in the way of our saying yes to God.

In my home, stuff is not a problem because I can't pack it all and get it on the plane, but because I can't organize it all and still tend my flock well.  If in order to keep any semblance of peace in my home, I have to huff around scooping up stuff and rearranging it constantly, stuff is in the way of God's will.  If the thought of having morning prayer with my kids or snuggling on the couch for read-alouds panics me because the mess in the living room robs me of my desire to serve my family, stuff is in the way of my service to God.

Over and over I have talked myself out of this being the problem.  Over and over I have reasoned that I just needed more containers and bookshelves (stuff for my stuff).  And over and over I have found myself lying in bed at night feeling like a total failure because of the state of my stuff.  Even on a day when we have prayed together, learned together, played together, I can often find myself guilt-ridden at night because I was not able to manage my home as I think I should.  If stuff is in the way of my experiencing God's love and mercy, it's definitely the problem.

I am giving up lying to myself about that for the rest of Lent.  I am facing my stumbling block dead on.  I am going to follow a plan to determine the purpose of each room of our home, find a place for the things we need to achieve that purpose, and eliminate the rest.  I am going to work on forming better habits for myself, then lead my little flock by example. 

And I am going to tend them, their hearts, minds, and spirits, before I tend the stuff.  I don't want to be the shepherd who lost his sheep because he had too much to carry.  I'm laying down my burden, all this stuff, and taking up the staff that will win me the unfading crown of glory.   

A Meditation on the First Station

I have been praying Mary's Way of the Cross in the mornings since Lent started.  I have not been in a rush to complete every station each morning, but instead I find myself taking it slowly, meditating on one station at a time, really thinking.  I am struck by how intense it has been, and how I long for that time in the morning to come so I can sit once again at my Mother's feet and await her instruction.  Here are some thoughts about the First Station that have been hanging on my heart all week:

Jesus was a man falsely accused.  The cause of his suffering was not his own actions, but the jealousy, malice, and weak will of others.  His perfect mother watched her perfect Son stand silent and resigned as the fingers were pointed, the questions mounted to angry shouts, and the mob's cries rose to a fevered pitch.  She was horrified.

The spirit of false accusation is an ugly one.  It destroys innocence and scandalizes holiness.  And so often it is cultivated by simple human weakness.  The spirit of false accusation finds its way into our homes on difficult days, when our will to holiness is compromised by our weakness--when we are tired and outside pressures are making us anxious, when we are sick and everyone says the wrong thing, when we are hurt and left vulnerable and don't like how it feels.  And suddenly, we find ourselves shouting at children who don't deserve it.  Our resolve for patience wavers.  The shout rises is our throats and escapes because our will to squelch it is weak.  The warmth of shame rises in our throats and in our human brokenness spews more angry words rather than stopping us in our tracks. 

False accusations play themselves over in our mind when we are hurting or feeling the weight of injustice, real or imagined. And sometime before supper is on the table, they creep into our conversation with our spouse, pointing a finger at him, poking their way into the soft spots in his heart only we are privileged to know.  We try to recover by thrusting ourselves into our daily duties, but with every clang of the pots and stomp of the heavy foot, he hears what we are not saying.  Shame and pride mingle and prevent us from apologizing.  We find ourselves much the way Pilate must have found himself after Jesus was whisked away by the angry mob--wondering what in the world we've done and why we did it.

False accusation needs mercy.  We need forgiveness for this tendency.  We need the grace to overcome it.  Repeated relentlessly, it will lead the ones we love the most to view us with a mistrusting eye, it will destroy our holy authority over our children, and leave an obstacle in the flow of marriage's sacramental grace.  But standing there brave and silent in the face of it, Christ won the battle over it for us.  He released the river of mercy that washes us clean, and gives us the strength to fight another day.  And his mother, courageously watching amid the shoves of that angry crowd, won the chance to lead us to that grace.  She waits now, she beckons, she doesn't want to watch alone.  Let us join her in the crowd.  Let us stand shoulder to shoulder with her in humble gratitude as our Saviour takes on the weight of our sins.  And let us not squander the freedom He has won for us.