Seeing My Kiddos

So I just left Michigan where I was helping Liz and Joe move. I miss them all already! Here is Margot helping Daddy.

And Margot taking a break with Mommy.

And then here is one of about 20 pictures that Margot took when she silently made off with Nana's phone.

Now I'm waiting at the convent in Boston (along with Chris) for Sr. Theresa Aletheia to arrive from Miami. She's moving back to the motherhouse! And she will accompany us to our nephew's wedding on Sunday. Happy, happy, joy, joy!

I was looking for one of my posts and ended up scrolling through my blog history. I truly loved blogging. Really I should say I loved writing, whether about me or politics or stuff, it was a great method for getting my thoughts out in a structured way (a miracle for an ENFP personality). I'm trying to analyze the patterns related to the blogging roller coaster, but it's making me sad. It seems to be stress related and even when I make major life decisions to avoid stress, I sometimes end up with more.

Anyway, one of the benefits of returning to blogging would be using this as my platform for political ranting rather than Facebook. Here I'm on my turf and readers come voluntarily. Facebook feeds tend to stick peoples' opinions into readers' faces. Sure you can unfriend, but that comes with all the attendant "inner turmoil." This all relates especially to pro-life ranting because I'm fully aware that more than 25% of the female population have had an abortion, so thrusting my opinions in those women's faces is just cruel.

Abortion has been on my mind a lot lately because of the Planned Parenthood undercover videos that have been coming out. Talking about turmoil! It's been turmoil in my mind, wondering how we have allowed ourselves as a country to get to the point where something so egregious can be basically ignored. More on that later. Maybe.

One more thing. My Blog Title has been hijacked by an HBO series about a transgender dad. If you landed on my blog while looking for the TV show, please... well, come on in and kick off your shoes and stay awhile. I'll put on some coffee and we can talk.

Running From Sainthood

Of this I am sure. I am not a saint. I might have had a chance at it if I had been willing to pray for it, but Mary Pat and I always agreed – “Are you kidding! Why in the hell would I pray for any more suffering than life sends my way naturally?”

I did, finally, pray for it (not often, mind you, but I did do it). It was after I had come to a greater realization of how much God loves me. I can say now that I am as sure of His love as I was of my mother’s (and of that I was VERY sure). So whatever comes my way is fully enveloped in a love that surpasses all understanding and I'm all for that (now).

So if He can get it done in the short number of years I have left, then I am now a willing participant. But to get to this Oklahoman's level I may have to live way, way past 100.