March 2

This morning I ran a 5K.  Although this wasn't my first, I have participated in a hand-full, this was the first since I have been actively trying to be a running enthusist.  Getting ready this morning I was so excited to immerse myself in the excitment of race day--the crowds, the music, the anticipation if accomplishment--the atmosphere of race day is a high.  I knew going in to this, that there was a bit of a 'bump in the road' for me.  A few weeks ago while running a five mile circuit, my right knee just had a little "pop".  Immediately, there was some pain and probably more fear, knowing that the potential of immense damage was possible.  One thing I knew for sure, the rate at which I was running was going to significantly decrease.  Needless to say, I have not run five miles since this, I can barely run a 5K without pain.  However, I wasn't going to miss the race.

I started out at a good pace, feeling good.  But then, not even a mile in, the pain began.  I immediately wondered if I would be able to finish.  As I began to get really discouraged, I found myself running a little harder so I wouldn't stop.  And then it happened.  The pain buckled in my knee and I knew I had to stop for a few minutes--luckily I had just come up to a set of steps so I stretched for a minute, walked a little further, and continued with my run.  I hadn't seen any mile markers for awhile but figured I was really slowing down, or I wasn't paying attention (although the combination basically hits the nail on the head, I am leaning more toward the latter).  My body felt like it was needing to be finished.  Just then, my friend caught up with me and asked, "do you want to sprint to the finish?" Quickly I answered "no", and was thinking "heck, I am barely making ti here, there is no way I am sprinting!"  and off I watched her go.  The finish was just around the corner, still out of sight.  My head began the playing my litany over and over, "you are stronger than your body...you are stronger than your body!"  As I brought my eyes up from the pavement, I saw it.  FINISH in huge red letters.  I don't know why, and I don't know from where the tears came, but they streamed. 

This is how I want my life to be.  I want to always be focused and encouraged that I can cross the finish line running.  I thought about Vivi, she will always be on the other side.  She completed her race in record time and is cheering me on to my Victory! Life has the ups and downs of the course, it has different road blocks, different delays and detours, but the Start and the Finish Line are always there.  St. Vivi pray that I have the strength, the hope, and the determination to keep running until I cross that Finish line!  And I would like to cross it with my PR :)

February 26

"This journey is not for the faint of heart"
                                       Gandolf to Frodo in the Lord of the Rings:The Fellowship of the Ring

Lent.  Not particularly my favorite time of the liturgical season, not because I do not believe in the great need for change of heart, but because that most usually means some sort of 'growing pain'.  Those pains I am not quite keen of.  And quite honestly, not just those pains, but all pains I would like to sever out of my life period.  As Ash Wednesday rolled around 2 weeks ago, I was explaining all these things to Christ, and in return, He held out His hand and stated, "Walk with me in the desert".  How dare Christ ask me this.  I have been in the desert going on 5 months since Vivi died.  I know You have the power to hurtle me over the desert, so why won't You?  After a few other spurts of colorful reasons why this was a TERRIBLE request, in typical Maria fashion I got up and ran to catch up with Christ.

And already 2 weeks in, Christ has given me such grace to continue deeper into the desert.  Just in the past few days I have been tried in ways that have collectively been almost as hard as giving Vivi back to Heaven.  Each time I have wanted to give into Satan's temptations to drop the cross and run for my life out of the desert, God's Mercy has been so great, each time, He has rescued me.  When I have thought about running, Christ has looked into my heart, bent under the weight of His own cross, reaching out His hand, and has encouraged me to keep going. "For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you.  Plans to give you hope and a future'." He has greater plans for me--plans to get me through the desert-- not go over, not go under, not go around, but to barrel through.  At other times in my life I would have not accepted His mercy. Lets be real, there would have been a DEFINITE negative RSVPed to that invite.  But for whatever reason He wants me here-in the desert.  And I will continue through this desert, if you want me to.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qVYRc7LtvUA

January 14

This post is a few weeks in the making.  I wanted to do it Jan. 1 because I truly feel that although I dub last year "The Year of Great Love" because it was all about Vivi, and I will always consider it one of my best years, I know this year is going to be the best year of my life.  Vivi lets us know that too--she is very present to both Rod and I.  Rod sees Blue Jays all the time, and I see flying "V"s when I least expect them.  I know she wants it to be known that she is with us in a way that none of our other children will be.  Our calendar for the first few months is already packed with good things--I am starting a 3 week course to become a Nurse's Aid, Youth ministry is really taking off and Rod and I are beginning classes to become foster parents.

Rod and I got through the holidays easily, thanks to pre-Christmas break-downs.  The week after Christmas we were able to sneak away and remember all the reasons we really love each other.  I am so thankful for such a remarkable husband!  There truly is no one else in the world I could have gone through all this with.

Since I haven't been working since Vivi died, I have had a lot of time to feel.  This perhaps is the greatest gift Rod has given me ever, because it has allowed my heart to finally be open to growth that I have needed for a very long time.  If you haven't already gathered about me, music is a big part of my life and I do believe it is in the top 3 ways God speaks to me.  Lady Antebellum have a song called "I Run to You".  It begins like this:

I run from hate, I run from prejudice

I run from pessimists, but I run too late

I run my life or is it running me, run from my past

  I run too fast or too slow it seems

The past month or so this verse has kept popping into my head without hearing this song.  I wasn't too sure why, but then I had an interesting conversation with my mom and I realized why.

My whole life I have run away from what I don't want, whether it be because my life got hard, became too mundane, I was scared--I jumped from one thing to the next, went place to place to cover up the "negative" I felt to try something new.  With the "newness" came a different kind of chaos, a chaos that was fun and exciting....but eventually got old and the cycle would begin again.

Vivi, broke the cycle.  She became the only person, the only thing I have ever loved above everything else in my life.  For her, I cried.  For her, I felt the pain.  For her, I lived my greatest fear.  For her, I stayed.  And I would stay, and stay and stay.  Vivian, although she touched so many and came for so many people, I do believe, the greatest reason she came to this world, and died, was for me.  The one person who wanted it the least, but needed it most...me.  A child's vocation is to get their parents closer to heaven.  Viv...what a show off.  59 days.

So to begin this new year, I am running.  Not away, but for a purpose.  I began training for the Flying Pig Saturday in Vivi's honor.  This is something I have wanted to do for about 8 years, but as I would start training, it would get "hard" and I would quit.  Not this time!  The training is kicking my butt big time, but I know its what my girl wants me to do--again not just for her, but more importantly for me. And she told me.  As I finshed my first run Saturday morning, a flying "V" met me on the way to my car :)

December 22

Dear Mr. President,

As I have had a week to reflect on the Newtown Massacre that killed 20 innocent children's lives, my heart aches.  Not just because of the loss of life at such a young age, but for the parents, the siblings, the grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, friends, that lost a precious part of their lives.

I mourn for the children that were witnesses, that in moments lost their innocence.  I mourn for the families across the nation that are puzzled by what to say to their children. 

 I grieve for the souls of people who choose to do such evil.  I grieve for their parents, siblings,grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and friends who have to live with the reality that perhaps they could have loved more.  

Unfortunately, Mr. President, that got me to think about you.  You are in favor of killing innocent lives everyday.  Since your presidency, more babies have been killed then ever before and it happens everyday.  But you don't seem ashamed. You don't have any remourse.  So when you stand on national television and cry for the loss of 20 innocent lives, I can't help but call you a hypocrit. Your words of comfort are empty, because six years ago, you would have agreed to the murder of all 20 of those children in their mother's womb.

Abortion, Mr. President is murder.  Until YOU stand up to stop the evil of murder you allow everyday, you have no right to chastise the murder that took place in Newtown.  Until you use your position of power for good, this evil will always exist.

December 21

3 months ago today Vivi was born again as she entered Heaven to begin her new eternal life.  Being the non-date person I am, it took me by surprise this morning as Rod reminded me, by wasn't much of a surprise as I know she was talkling to me last night.

Rod was sick yesterday, so I brought home some movies from RedBox that we could enjoy while he was on the mend.  After the Avengers came the Odd Life of Timothy Green, a movie I have wanted to see since our stay with Vivi in the hospital.  Every time I would see the preview for this movie, I always thought, 'I know this is how Vivi is....such a special kid'.  Little did I know how many similarities I would find to my life in this movie.

Allow me to start by saying, I don't think that this movie is up there for grieving parents to watch.  For some reason, Rod and I have watched a couple movies that have hit very close to home unknowingly.  The story of Timothy Green begins with Cindy and Jim (parents) who are sitting listening to the doctor share with them that they will never have children.  After going home, they decide to one last time write down all the qualities their child would have, put them in a box and then bury it in the ground.  Through the night, a surprise guest enters their home--Timothy.  Immediately he calls them "mom and dad", and as Cindy and Jim notice leaves growing from his legs, he explains that he has come from the garden. As the story unravels, Timothy brings such joy and love to all the people he meets, while fulfilling each characteristic that Cindy and Jim buried in the box.  But as each characteristic is fulfilled, Timothy looses a leaf.  Once all his leaves are gone, it is time for him to go back to the garden.  After he leaves, a letter is read that he placed back in the wooden box. You find out that each of his leaves that fell off he has given away to someone.  Each person that he gives them to is a better, more loving person because of him.

Ok, so here I am watching this...crying (no real surprise there) but the entire time I couldn't help but think about Viv.  This world is such a better place because of her.  Her little light of love brightened even the darkest spaces in 59 short days.  Today Mass was celebrated in her honor at St. Lawrence--what an amazing gift of remembrance that our lives are being born and then death, but being born twice--onto this Earth and into Heaven.

We love you baby girl! :)

December 19

Yesterday afternoon I went to Mass.  The priest that was saying Mass was unlike any other priest I have ever experienced.  I felt like Christ was standing in fron of me, pouring our His love through this man.  It truly was an expereince that left me reflecting of the graces we receive through our vocation. 

His homily reflected on Joseph, and the thought process he might have had after finding Mary with child.  Jospeh went through Advent kinda out of the loop.  He wasn't there for the encounter of Mary and Gabriel.  He wasn't there for the encounter of Mary and Elizabeth.  He wasn't there as Mary encountered God.  Yet, when told in a dream not even by God, but and angel, to 'not be afraid to take Mary as your wife', his faith moved him to say 'yes. Let it me done unto me as you say'.

I never before have meditated on Joseph in depth.  Needless to say, this was a catalyst that started my wheels turning.  I have always thought about Mary--and even more so as I journeyed with Vivi.  However, Joseph touched my heart in a new way.  Mary had encountered God--she knew that although there were some question marks, there was obviously some  security in knowing that if God asked you to carry his son, everything would be worked out.  Joseph's "yes" to Jesus, is more parallel to our everyday "yes"s.  Not too often does God send an angel to ask us to do His will.  Our 'yes's are sometimes a bit more of a hazy look cast over our face trusting that our 'yes' is what God is asking.

Emmanuel, God is with us, is possible because of both 'yes's; Mary and Joseph.  It is because of the faith of Mary's "Let it be done according to your word" and the faith of Joseph's obedience to the angel's command in the dream, that Christ is living with us, EMMANUEL! These past few days the faith and love of the Holy Family has been so close as I also reflect on Rod and my family.  We are living Advent.  Although there is still grief and sorrow that time is slowly healing, there is an undercurrent buzz of excitement and hope of what God has for us now.

December 9

It has been a long time since I have wanted to write.  There have been moments in the past weeks that I have felt obligated to write, but knew that the true sincerity that I would want to convey would be absent.  This past week, I have had God invite me to share my heart again.  For the sake of length of this post, I just want to say Thank You.

As we have celebrated Thanksgiving, and as we move through Advent, my heart is full of thanks to each of you.  Thank you for your prayers, thanks for your comfort.  Thank you for your support, whether it be spiritually, physically or finacially.  Thank you for your encouragement, for your love.  "Thanks" is a word we throw around so often that in these moments that I want it to mean something so deeply, I feel that it isn't quite enough.  What word is there though?  I can't seem to find one that works for me.  Nonetheless, thank you....thank you.....thank you.  Each of you, whether we see you often, we know your name, or we have never met, know that each of you have left an imprint on my heart that is shaping me more fully into the woman I am called to be.  For this, there aren't words.

Weeks ago, during a Rosary before the election, God gave me a beautiful image.  I was in the darkest moments since Vivi had died.  Sitting before him in adoration, I looked at my right hand.  The day after Vivi had died, I was explaining to Rod what I was going to do to the main wall in our living room.  As I was waiving my arms around the wall, my right palm snagged a nail.  It hooked into my skin and dragged down.  Needless to say, this was extremely painful, and as blood was oozing out of it, we both were questioning if I would need stitches.  As the oozing blood-flow calmed slightly, we could see that it wasn't too deep, but it would leave a scar.  I tried to put a few band-aids on it, but they wouldn't stay for 2 reasons. 1.) because it was an awkward spot and 2.) because I am right handed so I would move my hand in ways that made the already awkward spot more awkward.

The first few days, I was INCREDIBLY cautious with what I did with my hand.  I couldn't wash it without a sting, move it without bleeding...how difficult it was to be right handed and not able to use my right hand.  But after a few days, I kinda forgot it was there.  I got out of the shower and was putting on lotion and rubbed it all over the injury.  OUCH!!! I will admit, not nice words came out of my mouth as I quickly remembered the reason why I was avoiding right hand usage.  For a few more days I was incredible cautious.  But after about a week, although there was a scab over the cut, the skin was getting tougher and tougher--I could wash my hands with little or no discomfort, and although lotioning was a bit tricky, the sting didn't last as long.  Sitting in adoration, a month or so after the incident, I looked at my hand--it hadn't been at the forefront of my mind for weeks that my right hand was temporarily maimed. I could still see the scar that would be left- a pink puffiness haloed the area.  But, what I had never noticed before, the cut began at the end of a line already in the palm of my hand.  Fully healed, this scar would seem like it was always meant to be there-just an extension of a crease already in the palm of my hand.  Looking up at Christ in the Monstrance, I knew He was telling my this is just like my heart without Vivi here on Earth.

When Vivi died, my heart was cut open.  There were a few moments when salt was thrown into my wound--not by malice on any person's heart, just because of the nature of my situation in relationship with theirs.  But like my hand, the scar is healing....it's just a part of me. Day by day life becomes more liveable, more manageable.  I am having more good days with 'bad moments' than bad days with 'good moments'-- the mark Vivi has left on my heart will always be there.  But everyday, the scar is healing, becoming more and more a seemingly natural part of me.