I Wanna Holy Family.

                                                                       



Just another day in the home of the Holy Family.

 I am always coming up with blog posts in my head, but rarely get the chance to write them down. I guess  I just don't have alot of time to blog these days. Like right now, I'm typing with my left hand, because the baby is nursing on the right side. So this post should only take about 12 weeks to complete. I have to remind myself over and over that my blog ain't the end all be all. There will be plenty of time for blogging when I'm 89 yrs old with hair growing out of my chin.
     Till then I'll just do what I can. And yeah that gets annoying for me but, you know, vocation.
     This week I was chatting with a friend about my pre-married self. I was telling her how, like many of us, I had stars in my eyes when it came to marriage and family life ie " My husband shall be like St Joseph and I shall be like Mother Mary and we shall have a Holy Family. I shall sweep the floors in peace while reflecting on the Beatitudes with a smile on my face, all whilst my children play happily at my feet. Every evening I shall ring a bell at suppertime and my children shall come running obediently into the kitchen where I shall kiss them twice on each cheek and feed them a nourishing meal of plenty. And at the end of the evening - which by the way shall be filled with love and laughter and happy chatter - we shall pray the Rosary together in calm and peaceful unison and if a pin shall drop on the floor, it shall be quite audible but it shant distract us from our Domestic Church."
    And then I got married and you know what? Shit got real.
    I never anticipated the many arguements over absolutely NOTHING that my husband and I would have, simply out of sheer exhaustion because that's what happens sometimes when you have a family and there are not enough hours in the day.
     I never imagined my "St Joseph" would be wearing a mask on his face and breathing like Darth Vador in bed every night since it turns out he has some pretty serious sleep apnea. I'm sure he never imagined his little "Mother Mary" letting the laundry pile up to mountain-esque, ear popping elevations because 'oops life gets crazy sometimes'!!, or calling him  at work sobbing, "Are you getting out early todaaaaaaay?!?!" because it's been a long day and I. Just. Need. A. Break.
The happy, nourishing dinners? Um, do hot dogs with a side of mac and cheese count? How bout chicken nuggets? McD's? Pizza????? That sauce was made with real tomatoes that grew on a FARM, you know. Daily vegetable intake, hello!
   Does the Rosary count when your kids are climbing on each other or hanging off of the couch upside down while saying it? What about when you're all "Hail Mary, full of grace, JOHNPAUL STOP PINCHING JUDE'S HAND!!!!!" or "Holy Mary. Mother of God, Hey are me and Dad the only ones praying this?!"
   Is that still legit?
   And that's not even the real tough stuff.
   Can I get an amen??
   Now obviously, our life isn't always like that. In fact, just tonight, Dan and I colored pictures with the kids for the evening, after eating a delicious homecooked soup with actual vegetables in it. Later, when our 3 yr old Jude (the one who got pinched during prayers) spontaneously asked if I would make a cake, I actually said YES. And we made it! And no one (as in me) fainted from exhaustion. We had an almost peaceful prayer time with the kids (one decade. It's what we can handle these days) and got the 6, 5, and 3 year olds to bed rather quickly and nicely. Then, because the baby was having a cryfest, Dan and I gave her a little bath in her tub. She loved that! It was so cute. We then snuggled her in her towel, kissed her 149 times and I put her lotion on. She was in Heaven.
   Then Dan tried putting her sleeper on her. And she began wailing.
   All hell broke loose. He was buttoning her sleeper, she was screaming and to be honest I sat there and crammed an obscene amount of cake into my mouth. I can't even say it was a piece of cake, because that would be lying. We'll simply call it an amount. Just eating my feelings is all.
I was hoping no one would wake up, and thank God no one did, but we have had many, many nights of kids who have been rudely awakened in this manner and have refused to fall back asleep, which is exactly how you'd hope a long, exhausting day might end: with more exhaustion.
   Thankfully, things calmed down. I nursed the baby to sleep, and all was well. But is this the sweet little calm and controlled life that I had imagined in my younger days? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA no.
    This is the thing: life is real. It's gritty. It's raw and it doesn't always come in a pretty little package. Sometimes it's just a damn mess. And I can admit that because it's the honest truth. I think most of us can relate to that.
    I often think of Jesus when He was carrying His cross. Blood. Mud. Dirt. Sweat. Not your typical clean little marble crucifix on a flowery altar. It was HARD. He fell three times. And when He fell, He didn't jump back up, throw His fist in the air and shout "YEAH!!! Did you all just see THAT?!?!?!?! This is awesome!!! I'm DOING this!!!" Nope. He didn't glamourize it. He embraced His suffering for what it was and He put His hand to the plow, so to speak, and trudged forward.          Because sometimes that's all you can do.
   What about all the tough, unglamorous moments that Mary and Joseph faced together? The long ride Mary endured on the back of a donkey at nine months pregnant? I'm sure that was real comfortable. The heart-racing flight to Egypt? Terrifying! The time they lost Jesus? Bet they weren't smiling then.
It's easy to romanticize married life and family life, just like it's easy to romanticize the cross. But when the rubber meets the road, it ain't easy. When your buttons get pushed, when your comfort zone gets uncomfortable, when you're called to make sacrifices, it's HARD.
    It doesn't feel always very holy. It feels pretty uncomfortable sometimes, especially when we fight against it. But, you know, it's so worth it.I don't think you can really understand that until you've had to get up close and personal with other people, and a sure way to do that is to live with other people. When you live in community with others, when you live in a family, you come face to face with others, you come face to face with yourself, you come face to face with Christ.
    I always thought I was going to meet Christ in the peace and quiet. But He's right here in this beautiful chaos. "The Word became Flesh and dwelt among us." US!! He's here in the nitty gritty of regular old LIFE. He's here with the dirty laundry, the stack of dishes, the poop diapers and the brazen teenager. He's in the naughty little brother, pulling his sister's hair, the baby crying. He's in the laughter and the tears. He's there for the arguements, the hurts, the angry silences. He's all there. Yes, even in the ugliness. And He gives it all meaning. If we let Him, He can use it all to change us and make us more real, more human and way more ALIVE.
     You're struggling? You have dirt on your hands, so to speak? You're falling down and getting back up, again and again? Trying and failing? Failing and trying? How's your laundry pile?
      I know sometimes it doesn't "feel" very holy. But what it means is that you're in this, and you are just where you're suppossed to be. The Holy Family is right there with you. And perhaps, despite all the unglamorous feelings, without you even realizing it, you're on your way to being a holy family, too. Because - when we let Jesus transform us - the tough, gritty, grimy, tiring, difficult and straight up UGLY times are where holy families are made.
       Can I have some more cake?