Let Truth Bloom

What is the perfect mother? Perhaps you are a mother, or would like to be one. In that case I bet, without spending much time thinking about it, you have a very particular vision of what the perfect mother is to you?  For me I would have imagined a smiling, caring, kind, gentle, playful, patient woman who not only looks put together but can cook, clean, craft and create with ease. One surrounded by her loving and loved children whether they’re reading a book, baking, creating or watching an interesting insect on the doorstep. One who is present and connected, emotionally regulated, calm and ready to weather the emotional storms little ones find themselves in. One who loves God and is patient yet practically adept for any mothering scenario. No pressure, right?! Becoming a mother was what I had always wanted. I believed, since I was a little girl, that this was God’s plan for my life. The thought simultaneously excited and settled me. It felt right. It felt like my purpose, my vocat...

Are you responsible for taking care of others? Do you usually put other people’s needs ahead of your own? Do you feel selfish when you have needs or desires of your own? Do you feel like taking time for YOU is wrong? Have you learned that the right thing to do, the Catholic thing to do, is to deny your needs in favour of the desires of others? Are you wondering why continuously doing so is leaving you feeling drained, unfulfilled and resentful? As mothers, we see very quickly how the neglect of a need in our children develops swiftly into meltdown: an emotional outburst, overwhelm, anger, drama, tears. Yet we expect that, because we are adults, the consistent suppression of our own needs will have no such consequence.  Why is it that we consider the presence of our  own  needs as wrong or bothersome? And the taking care of those needs as unnecessary or redundant? Do we think we are exempt from being human? Are we expecting ourselves to be super-human? I don’t know about y...

In my life I struggle to rest. Keeping busy? That, I can do. Doing something? No problem. Resting? Staying still? Relaxing without doing  something while relaxing, whether it’s crocheting or reading or listening to something? That does not come so easy to me. In fact, I would say it was so uncomfortable for me that it felt like there was something wrong: with me, with resting; I wasn’t sure. But it felt intolerable.  That all began to change some years ago. The level of busyness and chaos in my life was feeling too much. Many areas in my life were simultaneously trying to teach me the one lesson: STOP! REST! I say it all began to change because whilst I have improved in taking the time to rest, it still often feels more than a little disagreeable to me while I’m resting. However, the benefits I earn for the remainder of the day motivate me to keep returning to the practice. Around the same time that chaos and constant busyness were launching me ever closer to breaking point...

Is there order or chaos in your life? Our world was created in a perfectly ordered manner. We can read an account of this in Genesis. Any change that is introduced into the order of God’s design, then, is felt with a mirrored level of chaos. A slight lack of order produces slight chaos. An absolute abandonment of order creates utter and complete chaos. We do not need to look around our society for very long to see this play out. What about in our lives and in our own homes, though, where we strive to place God in His rightful place? Is there order or chaos ? One of the most life-changing, practical lessons I have learned to date regarding my purpose and role as a Catholic, and in particular as a mum, was in relation to the correct order of things. I had been making a mistake for decades! I had been responsible for dis-order in my home and in my family the entire time I had been married and raising children and I didn’t even know it. I had been feeling the chaotic effects of the erro...

My father, God rest his soul, was a deep thinker. The truth mattered to him. One of the things he did, though, that sometimes irritated me was his repetition of stories. One in particular he must have told me dozens of times; and I overheard him tell others dozens more. Little did either of us know what a pivotal part the centrepiece of this story would play in his death. My father’s favourite painting was the focal point of this often repeated tale. A picture of that very painting, which still hangs in his bedroom, you can see below. Dad tended to be a wonderful story-teller; animated whilst calm, clear, concise (most of the time), and certainly could hold one’s attention.  The painting is of Our Lord Jesus standing knocking on a door. To me, it is a beautiful painting. Calming. Thought-provoking. Emotive. The best part, though, is what is not there. There is no handle on the door. Jesus can knock. But there is no handle for Him to turn to let Himself in. He is knocking and must w...