Running the race that lies before us

The first race for the Catholic Middle School Athletic Association this year was run on Yom Kippur at Sunken Meadow State Park. It was a marathon day for me; I choreographed the schedule the night before, including planning for a “meal” in the car.

I had to leave my house in the early afternoon to get to the school, pick up all the girls on the team, and drive them to Sunken Meadow State Park. After the race, we ate pepperoni, crackers, snap peas, and fruit on our way to softball practice. Near the field we stopped at McDonald’s for a 20-pack of chicken nuggets. I treated myself to a chocolate shake.

I remember the first year we started with organized sports. My eldest was 4 years old and we had started our official homeschooling for kindergarten. Soccer practice was the only place we had to be, twice a week; games were on Sundays. There was a family there with several foster children, who were all enrolled in teams in our local sports association.

“When do you eat?” I asked the mother incredulously.

“Sometimes we have to eat in the car,” she answered.

I was shocked. I would never let my family get so busy that we couldn’t sit down for a meal.

Eight years later, the joke is on me, and I remembered thinking that during the drive from cross country to softball. NEVER judge another parent until you have been in their shoes! As any professional runner will tell you, part of “running the race that lies before us” is never looking back to see what the other runners are doing.

You can see my eldest daughter (in the far right of this picture) as she breaks away from the pack and takes the lead in the first leg of this race. She is looking back, something one of her coaches noticed and pointed out to her. She finished up sixth in the race. My second daughter finished around number 20 and kept her focus straight ahead. Who did better? The motto of every runner is: “Do your personal best.”

This point is also made clear in one of the books in the C.S. Lewis’ The Chronicles of Narnia, “The Horse and His Boy”. The young girl asks Aslan what happened to a boy who had disobeyed and the answer is: “That is his story, not yours.”

According to The Catechism of the Catholic Church, the “great cloud of witnesses” includes all the saints from the beginning to the end of time. Saints are any people that are, or will be, accepted into Heaven; only the Lamb of God knows who these are for sure, but the Church will occasionally canonize those who have lived such a holy life that they are virtually certain they must be in Heaven.

These witnesses are all cheering us on, as we strive to achieve God’s plan for us. Going to Confession helps us to unburden the sins that are bogging us down. We are to keep our eyes on Jesus, not the people around us, during our race. That means not being too bothered by what others think of us, and not losing our focus by dwelling on what others are doing.

Hebrews 12: 1-2(NAB)
1
Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us rid ourselves of every burden and sin that clings to us and persevere in running the race that lies before us
2
while keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus, the leader and perfecter of faith. For the sake of the joy that lay before him he endured the cross, despising its shame, and has taken his seat at the right of the throne of God.

The Traveling Jury

Today my eldest daughter was tried and found guilty by a traveling jury.

I was snug in my bed as the house repeatedly shook early this morning. The kids were going in and out of the house, slamming the door behind them each time. Then my eldest daughter burst in, exclaiming that her sister had fallen and the bus was coming!

I ran down the stairs as my middle daughter fell through the open door, crying that her big sister had tripped her. “Show me, quick,” I said. No blood. Then I saw the bus coming around the corner. I ran to the freezer, popped out an ice cube, and handed it to her. I gave her a kiss, wiped away her tears, and gently nudged her out the door. Then I yelled to my eldest, “You’re in big trouble when you get home!”

When just-been-crying Nine climbed onto the bus and just-got-into-trouble Eleven climbed on the bus, all the kids knew something was up. They soon got the brief story out and, deciding a fair trial by jury was appropriate, appointed attorneys for each of them.

“Why did you trip your sister on her way to the bus?” demanded the attorney of the victim.

“It was her job to make sure everyone was wearing the appropriate coat,” explained the attorney of the defendant, “The supposed victim was not wearing a warm enough coat and my client was trying to get her to put on her winter coat.”

Surprisingly, no argument was made about the temperature, which was slightly under 40 degrees.

This explanation was not deemed acceptable to the jury. The accused was found guilty by the majority.

But when the case went to Supreme Court, Mommy gave the final ruling. Innocent, by reason of trying to do the right thing.

Irksome Questions and Comments for the Write-at-Home Mom

Q: What do you plan on doing when the kids grow up?
A: More of the same.
More writing.
More cooking.
More gardening.
More home improvement projects.
More pro-life work.
More involvement in my husband’s home business.

All of the above are worthwhile occupations that I currently fill. Sometimes I fail to take credit for all of the roles that I fill because (a) I feel it is immodest and (b) that it should be recognized that “just being a mom” is enough. But on the flip side, socially I sometimes feel pressured to justify my existence as being more than that.

Q: Do you ever feel like your college education has gone to waste?
A: No.
Being better-educated makes one a better citizen, and aids in molding young minds. But this question hurts deeper than that because it implies that one’s own mind is not worth spending time and money to develop. Even if I never wrote for the public, never performed community service, never educated any children, if I chose to use all my spare time on personal endeavors I do not feel it is ever a waste to be well-educated and not be out in the work force.

Comment: Writing is such a nice thing to do in your spare time.
A: Thank you.
This statement is well-meaning maybe, but it comes across as patronizing.
First, I have virtually no spare time.
I write in my head while juggling multi-tasks. I write in notebooks while at baseball games or supervising bathtime. I am lucky if I get ten minutes to turn on the computer once a day, check my emails, and type up an essay to post on my blog.
Second, it implies that my writing is a casual hobby, when a writer is something at the core of my being. It is something I feel compelled to do, an activity as necessary as eating three square meals per day.

I was reminded by a good friend that the religious education classes typically do not teach to “pray for your enemies” as a good coping strategy. I take that to heart not to dwell on the speaker of irksome comments in a negative light but to pray for them. And not in a selfish way (as in “Lord please let them see me in a more respectful manner”), but a selfless and GIVING way (as in “Please bless her today”). Notice I do not say FORgiving for I truly believe they mean no harm.

It is I who am touchy and need to see my work in a way that is glorifying of God and not self. And then it certainly should not irk me no matter what others may think or say.

“If I did despise the cause of my manservant or of my maidservant, when they contended with me, What then shall I do when God riseth up? And when he visiteth, what shall I answer him? Did not he that made me in the womb make him? And did not one fashion us in the womb?”
Job 31:13-15

Ilya Repin. Job and His Friends. 1869. Oil on canvas. The Russian Museum, St. Petersburg, Russia.

Back to School Shopping

Yesterday morning the newspaper had an article about all the last minute shoppers. Good thing I had thought ahead, I thought smugly! I had all my supplies early – really I did. Yet I am drafting this blog in my trustee memo pad with a felt pen, whilst standing on a line after 9 PM the night before school starts.

Just this weekend I had told the cashier at the food store that I was thankful my kids wore uniforms and I was spared a big clothes shopping trip. “Just new shoes I guess?” she assumed. Uh oh. I hadn’t thought of that. I pushed it to the back of my mind.

After a day at the beach, I asked the kids to try on their uniforms. My eldest found her shoes under the bed and started coloring in the scuff marks with a black permanent marker. I had a flashback to a scene from the movie “Bridge to Terabithia”. She needed new shoes, and it was too late to take them all out. I waited until my husband got home, saw that they were tucked in bed at 8 PM, and took off for the store.

So here I am, just like everyone else. While in the store I realized that my son required a belt for first grade. I see young children in the store, rubbing their eyes. Shouldn’t they be home in bed? But I shouldn’t judge. Who knows why, like me, they were called out at the last minute, and had no one to leave the kids with. The loudspeaker is announcing the time is 9:15 and the store closes in 45 minutes. Hopefully I’ll be checked out by then (sigh).