Help! I Need Somebody

I was just reading a great post by Rachel Balducci at Testosterhome, about the necessity of asking for help at certain times in our lives and just how difficult that can be.  I remember at one point someone telling me how selfish it can be not to ask for help.  That we can be interfering in some one's path to Christ.  That they are offering themselves to us as Christ does (in a smaller way, maybe) and we are rejecting them/Him.  Ouch!  This was a wake up call to me, because I'm so willing to offer help, but how often do I graciously accept it.  It seems a weakness to admit the need.  Or maybe it's as though I want to take advantage of someone.  One definite aspect of refusing help is trust.  Am I trusting that these offers are sincere or am I assuming that the person offering truly doesn't mean it?  Am I hoping that these people will see the needy side of me and still like me?  It is good to evaluate this and determine why I say no before I say no.  If Christ is offering me help should I really say no?  And should I not see Christ in each and every person I encounter?

Expecting...Expectant

For the most part I truly enjoy being pregnant.  I love the idea of a new soul growing inside me, developing into the little person God has created them to be.  I love the feeling of little flutters and the feelings of little feet and hands trying to come out of my belly button.  I do not enjoy nausea.  But it's a small price to pay and at least it never develops to something worse as it does for some people.

A Jonah Day

It is a gorgeous spring like day outside.  I can hear the sounds of birds bustling through their day and children building imaginary worlds, peacefully together, I might add.  My house is silent but for the sound of the dishwasher and my typing.  From my window I can see the children, the fluttering leaves from a gentle wind and the glowing reflection of the morning sun on the very green trees.  But I am in a funk.  I can feel a migraine coming on.  I know that I have tonnes of stuff to do in the house, yard and garden, but am totally disinclined to do them.  Which adds guilt.  

And at the very top of this is THE COURSE.  It looms like Snoopy pretending to be a vulture.  I am determined to go back to school.  I want a Theology degree.  But I cannot find a distance ed school in Canada that offers it.  So I have to at least start on my Humanities degree through Athabasca University.  Which is a liberal Canadian post-secondary institute.  So the courses will be flavoured by this philosophy.  And to top it off I (me, myself) signed up for the wrong course.  I hit the wrong button when ordering and am now forced to do a literary prose course, full of angry books, by authors who might be my brothers and sisters in Christ, but are not close friends.  I read/laboured through the introduction of my course last night and upon reflection, probably agreed with all of 2 sentences.  The intro alone is angry.  It is full of hate for organized religion, and "chauvinistic society" that oppresses native peoples.  There is no examination of purity of intention here and certainly no quarter given to Judasim(an attack of the Old Testament) My anxiety is how do I defend my faith but still pass?  How do I not become tainted by this anger and lack of hope?  I think ice cream might help.  Oh and lots of prayer.  St. Thomas Moore, pray for me.

A one and A two...

Little Mark is still a nurser.  He's incredibly efficient.  Recently I have noticed a trend.  I used to nurse him just on one side so that he'd get the hind milk, but now it's as though he can count and there's no way we're done until he's had both sides.  Did I mention he has a temper?

God Answers All Prayers

It has been a crazy time.  Good but truly insane.  Our schedule looks like this of late: Monday - swimming, home, me back to town for a meeting; Tuesday - riding, soccer; Wednesday - swimming, soccer; Thursday - speech, soccer.  Each of these days involve two trips to town.  The weekends are equally loaded and until today we've been doing school.  So I have felt a bit like a tired, waddling yo-yo.  One day recently found me whining, (ahem) praying to God, "Oh Please can't we just have one week at home".  So I came home from Ignatian Retreat to find my two oldest children spotted with suspicious red spots.  God is good and I'm grateful for His "Yes".  I just need to remember to be a bit more careful how I pray in the future.