Prepare the Way (by guest blogger Diane Gallagher)

A girlfriend recently texted me to ask for ideas for family prayer as she felt her routine with her kids had become stale and humdrum.  My reply was “what family prayer?”  As we giggled about my response the next time I saw her, I admitted that I was not kidding.  We pray before meals, when we hear an ambulance (thanks to my 3 year old’s reminders) and before bed with the little ones as we tuck them in, but we have lost our commitment to designated family prayer time beyond these moments.  Oh, the aspirations and ideas I used to have! I could have compiled a book with all of my creative concoctions for celebrating the saints or acknowledging important feast days in the Church.  Unfortunately, I put very few into action.  Life gets so busy.  The evenings are chock full of homework, lessons, practices, dinner, baths, and packing lunches.  Prayers are muttered here and there, but often are sadly not prioritized.  There are two times of the year that we actually do a decent job of special family prayer:  Advent and Lent.  We just bought a beautiful new Advent wreath (50% off at Michael’s!) that I was excited to set up in the center of our kitchen table last weekend.  One of our favorite Advent traditions (thanks, Steph!) is to put an empty manger in the middle of our wreath.  Every night after we light our candles and sing “O Come, O Come Emmanuel,” each child shares a good deed they performed that day and puts a piece of yarn or cotton into the crib to make it more comfortable for Jesus after He is born.  I have toyed with the idea of removing a piece for every bad deed they do but decided that Advent is a good time to stay positive.  Sometimes my kids are excited to highlight a plethora of good deeds that they have done that day -- or even better, that they witnessed their siblings doing.  Other times, they struggle to even identify one.  “Did you help anyone today?” “No.” Have a good attitude?” “No.” “Share with anyone?” “No.” “Ok, did you have a nice thought about someone?”  Once in a while, they simply do not get to add to the “mattress pad” for Jesus.  I felt badly on Sunday when one of my children would not contribute a good deed because he did not feel he had done anything worthy of it.  I also was glad to see that he had a conscience and took it seriously.  Fortunately, they all usually have something to add or this exercise would get a little depressing.  Needless to say, it has become a helpful daily reminder for all of us. In fact, it is really something we should be doing all year.  It might even be beneficial if we only identified good deeds done with a positive attitude.  I admit, I don’t usually have a shortage of good deeds.  That is what most of my day consists of – doing acts of service for my family.  But I often don’t perform them with a cheerful heart.  This year, as we await the celebration of the birth of Emmanuel, hopefully we can fill our manger with an abundance of comfy cotton.  Even better?  That as the Christmas season fades into Ordinary Time, we keep that Advent Spirit alive – good deeds, focused prayer time and all.  

HUG (by Diane Ghallager)

 (Guest Blogger Wednesday :)   My 1 yr old’s favorite book right now (thank you Aunt Chris!) is titled “Hug” – and that is the only word in the entire book.  It is an endearing story told mostly through illustrations about a little monkey named Bobo who watches the other jungle babies hugging their Mommies but can’t find his.  You can imagine his joy when he is reunited with his mother at the end.  A very simple yet real message.  We all need hugs and affection, probably more than lots of words.  I am not a big hugger by nature.  I have deep feelings for people but am not always comfortable expressing it externally.  That coupled with the craziness of life sometimes inhibits me from reaching out to my husband, children, family and friends in this physical display of affection.  Fortunately, my kids take after their Dad and are big snugglers.  I am so often in business mode and focus more on logistics when I am interacting with people instead of physically reaching out.  This may sound completely pathetic to some of you more touchy/feely types, but I have to sometimes mentally remind myself to hug my older children before I run out the door or stop my dinner prep to go greet my husband.  I will admit, my hugs come more naturally with my little ones who are so cuddly.  Though it is not my strong suit, I do believe in the importance of hugs and think they can often be the best medicine… and worth a thousand words.  After a recent Diocesan football championship game (we lost by 1 pt!), there was a poignant moment when the starting quarterback for our team walked over to his mother on the sidelines and simply hugged her.  I don’t know if words were exchanged, but they didn’t need to be.  He was deflated, and she comforted him with the best remedy a mother can offer… a hug. 

I wonder if this is why some people can find it more challenging to develop a more personal relationship with Jesus.  We like to hug flesh and blood which we cannot do with God in the ways we humans know and appreciate best.  Yes, we know He loves us.  He sends us signs and answers our prayers.  He speaks to us through others, and we receive Him in the Eucharist, but we can’t literally hug Him like we can those among us on earth.  My pastor encourages us after we receive communion to close our eyes and allow Jesus to hug us.  He does this at every Mass.  As a result, I try to do this with my kids – I ask them to sit and close their eyes and imagine Jesus hugging them.  With my 3 yr old, I will even take her upon my lap and suggest that she pretend I am Jesus who is hugging her…to help make it real and tangible and comforting.  I need to be able to hug Jesus, not talk at Him or complain or ask or thank.  Just hug.  And I need to allow Jesus to hug others through me, not just my 3 yr old sitting on my lap after communion.  Big, tough football players need hugs and little monkeys like the one in Elly’s favorite book do too.  Simple act and simple message with big results.  Just hug. :)

You Can't Always Get What You Want (by Diane Gallagher)

 (Guest Blogger Wednesday :) I want to get a massage.  I need to get my hair cut.  Both require money (in varying amounts), babysitting arrangements and planning (pitiful to say that it takes planning for me to get my haircut, but that is my reality) but the former is something I can live without while the latter is a necessity for me. These are obvious examples, but sometimes it can be a little trickier to distinguish between a want and a need.  I remember a friend of mine from years gone by who used to challenge me if I would use the word “need” incorrectly. “I NEED to go shopping for a new bathing suit.”  He would reply, “You NEED a new bathing suit?  Or do you WANT one?”  Needless to say, that would annoy the heck out of me sometimes, but it did make me stop and think.  I would like to do a better job for myself and my children in distinguishing between the two on a daily basis … And maybe only fulfilling the wants when it is peaceful, financially and physically.  If we refer to the tried and true “Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs,” we all know what it is we really need:  food, shelter, security, love.  Not a ski club membership, splash lagoon birthday party, or an ipod touch.  It is a wonderful perk when we can give our children something that they want beyond what they need, but it can actually be a helpful tool in growing up to be told “no” and learn how to accept it gracefully.  I detest saying “no” to my kids when it is something I know they really want. Not a strong suit of mine.  I will admit, however, that when I do find I have to deny them, you may hear me singing the refrain to “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” while they are whining about the unfairness of life or how depressed they are.  Like I have reiterated in past blogs, the best I can do is try to pray that God will help me to know when prudence and denial are the answer or when a “want” can be fulfilled.  My husband has a tendency to respond with a quick “no” while I swing to the other side of the pendulum with a hearty “yes”… and then we find the right answer (I hope) somewhere in between.

As I mentioned above, I sometimes have a similar struggle in determining my personal wants and needs, not just those of my children.   What do I need each day and what do I want?  The other afternoon, I had an hour before children came home from school and my two “babies” at home were sleeping.  AWWWW …. What to do during this time of peace and quiet?  I could play “Words with Friends”, exercise, do laundry,  start calling room parents (one of my new PTO duties) OR make dinner.  Bummer.  I have to make dinner.  That is what absolutely has to happen right now.  That fulfills a need for my family.  It is not fun.  I can even get irritated that this is how I have to spend my quiet time when there are so many alternatives.  But by doing this mundane task now, I will be better prepared to enter into homework, football preparation, and taxiing my children around this evening, knowing we have a substantial meal at home (that they can scarf down and complain about) in between.  God is so good at meeting my needs as well, but not always my wants.  My youngest was napping and I was making meatballs (a different scenario from aforementioned one).  I muttered under my breath that I hoped Elly slept until I was done because my hands were covered in raw hamburger, and I wanted to get the meatballs cooking. As soon as I finished, I began the arduous task of cleaning up the kitchen when I heard the baby begin to cry.  One of my sons was in the kitchen with me.  When I sighed and said, “I wanted to get these dishes washed before she woke,” he smirked and said “Mom, you can’t always get what you want.  But you got what you needed.”  He was right.  Dinner was cooking on the stove.  Yes, the kitchen was not cleaned but it didn’t need to be…. yet.  All in good time.  All in God’s time.  I do believe He cares about the little things.  I am not saying He reaches down and makes my baby sleep longer or wake up early just to test me (though He can)… He does allow nature to take its course.  But I believe He might nudge me to make a choice or perform a task that He knows would be most peaceful for my family and myself if I allow Him to be part of my daily life.  And I definitely believe that He gives me just what I need whether it is a sleeping baby or the grace to accept disruptions.  The Israelites got manna in the desert though they probably would have preferred a gourmet lamb. My kids want a trip to Disney but just might have to accept a week of camping in Cook Forest.  No, we can’t always get what we want.  Thank goodness. 

Football and Family (by Diane Gallagher)

(Guest Blogger Wednesday:) In the Gallagher house, Fall means football (participating, watching and Fantasy leagues), closing the pool, a return to homework, raking leaves, picking apples, Octoberfest at St. Joseph’s, cross country and Halloween.  As we near summer’s official end and prepare for one of my favorite seasons, I look at my calendar and shudder…not just from the cooler temperatures.  Our schedule is insane (I know many of you can relate).  Even though we only allow the kids to be in one organized event at a time, we still have 7 children.  Take my word for it – it adds up to many games, practices, rehearsals, lessons and functions.  I have heard experienced parents express that they feel like a taxi or bus, but I can officially declare the same sentiment for the first time.  My husband and I can truly be like ships passing in the night.  Where are we supposed to find family time in the midst of all this craziness?  In our house, it demands a lot of give and take AND a little creativity.

My boys and husband are big football fans.  As a result, a couple of years ago they all participated in a fantasy football league which has now expanded into a lively group composed of good friends and even myself!  I was hesitant to take a team, but my husband encouraged me to, and I have been pleasantly surprised.   It has become a bonding experience with my boys as we conduct the draft together (they give their uneducated mother some helpful hints) and then have to set our teams each week.  More often than not, one of my boys is sitting at the computer asking me who I want to put into the lineup each week while I wash dishes or sweep the kitchen floor.  Prior to my participation in Fantasy Football, I would not have surmised that this activity would be in my future, but I am glad I was willing to put aside my own ideas of how I would like to spend family time and be open to new adventures.  My girls, on the other hand, are not interested in football in the least bit unless it involves attending a game where they can play with friends and dine at the concession stand.  To foster their excitement in the sport, we planned a little party for just our family on Sunday.  The girls helped me prepare a smorgasbord of processed, unhealthy appetizers for the afternoon that they then served to the “men” who were glued to the TV screen.  Once all appetites were satiated, the girls’ excitement wore off and we had to resort to a game of Life until the end of the Brown’s game… but it was a nice family moment until then.  I admit that we have not been faithful to conducting family nights on a weekly or even biweekly basis….and our monthly events are not on any set schedule.  We can sometimes feel like failures in this area when we witness those families who are more disciplined.  But we do attempt to have dinner as a family whenever possible, attend Sunday Mass as a unit and try to find some events that all members enjoy on various levels like our Fantasy Football League and football party.  The boys will make their compromise when we all (sans the little ones) attend Les Miserables at the Playhouse in a couple weeks or when we go apple picking and can our apple sauce sometime in October.   Believe me, they will complain and say they do not want to participate, but I assert with 90% certainty that they will enjoy it and be grateful for these memories in the years to come.  When we are willing to compromise and be creative as a family, all sorts of new possibilities arise -- through football or the French Revolution. :)   

It Takes A Village (by Diane Gallagher)

(Guest Blogger Wednesday :)  In writing these reflections each week,  I take you with me on my journey of life which largely focuses on family and parenting these days. Today, I could not resist following up on a story from a previous blog. If you recall, I shared about my desire for my eldest son to develop an interest in Christian music.  I had scoured iTunes with him, sent him with my husband to a Christian music festival called Creation, and purchased some CDs all to wet his appetite.  Unfortunately, for as much as he enjoyed the festival and attempted to be open, he was not discovering a group or style that satisfied his musical tastes.  You can imagine my delight when he came home from school yesterday and excitedly told me to come to the computer with him.  He logged into YouTube and played a song for me called “God is Enough” by Lecrae.  He admitted that he was even considering downloading the song to his iPod.  I actually got choked up as I listened ... not because the song moved me to that extent but because God had reached out to my son in His own way and time.  And He did this through someone other than my husband or myself.  Ok, this might sound a bit extreme.  After all, it was just one song.  I am not saying Joseph went through a major conversion or anything that dramatic, but it was a good reminder for me that Joe is not just my son, but that he is even more importantly God’s son.  While I think that I have to be the one to influence my children in every area, I realized (once again) that it takes a village to raise a child.  Yes, my husband and I are going to play a big part in that, but God will use different people and situations as well to feed and form their souls.  I am so grateful to my son’s religion teacher who shared this song in class, and I am going to be sure to let her know that. 

Another reminder of this village concept occurred last week when my second oldest quoted something that his youth minister had said at a gathering the week before.  Not only did this assure me that he was listening but that he would actually apply what was said.   I can also remember times my children have mentioned the homily from their school Mass, a lesson from Vacation Bible School or a little gem they heard from their Grandparents.  This can be scary if our children are under the wrong influence, but when we are putting them in good hands, it is reassuring to know that we are not in this alone.  It is actually a great comfort for me as I continue to battle my inadequacies as a parent and recognize my limits and humanness.  As I have said before, I am more aware of my sinfulness now, as a parent, than ever before (that is if you overlook that period of time in high school and college when I went a little astray:) It is so good to be reminded that my children’s future is not just in my hands.  What a relief!  I do not mean to let parents off the hook here, but merely to provide some encouragement.  Whether it is through a religion teacher, a coach, a song or an experience, God will reach out to our children in His time.  The one thing I have been successful at in my parenting is continuing to pray for my children.  I might not do it as much as I want, but I attempt to lift each one of them up to God every day… praying for a litany of things including their teachers, their friends and anyone they encounter.   And always, always asking the Lord to have mercy on me when I fail in my parenting, and to make up (whatever I am not giving them that they need) where I lack.  I must be diligent in paying attention to whom my children are encountering on a daily basis, but then I pray and allow God to complete the mighty work He is doing in each of them, which will continue until the day they die.  A heartfelt thanks goes out to each of you reading this who have contributed to my children’s formation… by your words, your example and your interactions with them.  Be assured that I will do my best to “raise” your children as well.  Thank you, my village!

Peace In the Chaos (by Diane Gallagher)

Guest Blogger Wednesday. :) Baby is napping.  3 yr. old home from first day of preschool and watching Leap Frog.  It is quiet.  Wow!  I have not experienced this sensation at 1:40 pm in 3 months!  I must admit that I like it!  Don’t get me wrong:  I love my kids, and they each make me smile in different ways (and they each can make me crazy in different ways, too), but the chaos gets to me after a while.  Friends in and out the door, constant questions being asked or injuries being tended to.  Dirty clothes lying  on top of food wrappers, empty plates and cups (and some not so empty). Football games in the front yard and swim parties in the back.  Waldameer, the Zoo, the beach, family vacations, sleepovers and camp outs.  Extended family reunions and tennis lessons. Vacation Bible Schools, cookouts, Camp Notre Dame.  Soccer games (lots of them) , trips to the park and trips to Nana’s or Papa’s in Cleveland.  Ok, just writing all of that makes me feel a little better about the level of exhaustion my husband and I are both experiencing going into the school year.  Time to take a deep breath.  And so I find myself saying….”what next?”  I almost feel guilty that I don’t have a big agenda today.  My house is a big, post-summer disaster.  My laundry piles are the biggest they have ever been.  My grocery list is getting longer.  And I am sitting in my house writing my blog and enjoying the peace.  My big plan for today is washing my boys’ muddy football uniforms and making cookies for a nice after school treat in honor of their first day.  I guess I will make some dinner, too.  While I can feel guilty about not getting more done today, I know that it is good for me to slow down once in a while. 

My husband and I just had a lengthy conversation last night about what we can do to achieve more peace in our daily lives.  We have had many of these discussions over the past 14 years and don’t often see much change, but darn it, we will keep trying.  One concrete initiative we are making is to designate Wednesday evenings as our personal days.  We are going to take turns having time for whatever we want.  On my weeks, I can go grocery shopping, have coffee with friends, or go on a walk.  It is my choice, and I will not feel guilty about leaving.  Likewise, Jim will have the alternating weeks to do what he wants, guilt-free.  We are both craving quiet and peace… things that are not running rampant in the Gallagher household.  Having 7 kids, we need to accept the fact that quiet and peace are not going to be common at this stage in our life, but that doesn’t mean we can’t try to give each other little snippets of this now and then.  I need to get back into my early morning routine of waking before the kids and taking some quiet time with God and my cup of coffee.  Those quiet moments before the kids arise are so important to my sanity for the day. 

Both of these efforts in finding peace are helpful, but I realize that what I also need to be better at is finding peace “in the chaos,” to quote a good friend of mine with 6 kids herself.  So often, I think I need to make changes or find time for myself … “and then I will be more peaceful.”  Yeah, that’s good and nice if I can get out twice a month, but wouldn’t it be even better if I could figure out how to bring peace right into the here and now?  Not just at 6 am or every other Wednesday?  My spiritual director has reminded that to have internal peace inside does not mean that everything is peaceful around me.  Taking deep breaths, muttering Hail Mary’s at a moment I might explode, turning on the music (see last week’s blog), taking the kids for a walk, tickling the ivories just for fun (that’s playing piano for those of you not in tune with musical jargon;), attending daily Mass,.  Peace is something we certainly all desire … in our hearts, in our families, in our world.  The more I can achieve internal peace, the better I will handle the turmoil around me.  Wouldn’t it be great if I could actually bring peace to those around me instead of contributing to the commotion with my high-spirited yelling and intense reactions.?  If I truly want our family to have a more peaceful home, I need to work on myself first… and hope that will have a ripple effect.  Yes, another character flaw to work on.  In the meantime, I think I will enjoy my final moments of external peace before the bus empties and my rambunctious students pour through the door with their overflowing folders, big appetites, busy agendas and eager expectations.  I will have that cup of coffee and pray that Hail Mary…. and be ready to be the most peaceful Mom on the bus route.  Here’s to a great… and peaceful… school year!

The Power of Music (by Diane Gallagher)

Guest Blogger Wednesday. :)

“Dearly Beloved, We are gathered here today to get through this thing called life.  Electric word, life.  It means forever, and that’s a mighty long time.”  So began the words of my brother’s homily at the wedding of our other brother.  Only the Prince fans in the congregation knew what the heck was happening.  The others just thought that Fr. Rich had completely lost it, especially when he loudly proclaimed, “and if de elevator tries to bring you down, go crazy – punch a higher floor.” Rich was making a connection between the marriage ceremony and my brother Jim’s fondness for Prince during his high school years.  It was a fun connection and certainly grabbed all of our attention.  Music has a way of doing that.  It stirs emotions, sparks memories, forms bonds, communicates ideas.   I have always been affected by music.  From my earliest days as a piano student to my junior high years in youth theater and my young adult attempts at leading music at Mass with my husband.  My tastes have spanned from Broadway Hits to Bobby Darrin, Loverboy to Billy Joel, Andrea Bocelli to Jason Mraz, and Newsboys to Toby Mac.  I have cried with my high school classmates at Prom while singing “The Greatest Love of All,” laughed to my husband and his good friend’s rendition of “If I Had a Million Dollars,” jumped and jammed to “Shine” with my fellow Net teammates (my ND friends could tell you about some other tunes by Modern English or the B52s that sure made me dance).  Just writing this brings a smile to my face. 

Why the sudden interest in music? The other day I was having one of my pity parties at the washing machine – feeling exhausted, overwhelmed, unheard, out of control.  I was carrying my iPhone with me after my workout and decided to continue to let the music play while I went on with my daily routine.  There I was, pouring my detergent, and “Pie Jesu”(pronounced “pee ay yay zoo”) by Sarah Brightman began to play.  This song gives me the chills from head to toe.  We’ve been going through some challenging transitions lately that have resulted in some bottled up emotions.  The haunting melody and powerful message of that song spoke to my soul and the cork came off.  I cried my eyes out – and it felt so good.  Therapeutic, really.  I continued to listen to my mix of secular and Christian hits and found myself smiling, tapping my feet…and in one of the best moods I had experienced in quite some time.  It dawned on me that I needed to make the effort to bring music into my life on a more regular basis.  Heck, it sure helped the bitter Captain Von Trapp in the Sound of Music (not so much, The Phantom “of the Opera”).  God has given us so many different ways of expressing ourselves and finding beauty.  St. Augustine says that “singing is praying twice.”  Powerful stuff.  I often don’t take the time to turn on the iPod or CD player and let the music work its magic.  It can do wonders for my grumpy soul.  It lifts me up, helps me commune with God, motivates me in my workouts and facilitates memorable family moments dancing in our kitchen, gathering around the bonfire, or lulling our babies to sleep.  I feel like God gave me a gentle reminder the other day of the ways He can comfort me and connect with me through music.  I am so grateful for that gift.  So don’t be surprised if you see me cruising the neighborhood in our 12 passenger van with the windows wide open and some heavy bass or opera pouring out.  It just means I probably heard one too many “Moooooooom”s that day or my toddler got silly putty on my new capris.  Sometimes I just need to turn up the volume and “go crazy!” (Though Prince would not be the artist of choice I would be listening to these days. :)

Terrible Twos (by Diane Gallagher)

Guest Blogger Wednesday. :) My freshly-turned 3-year-old is going through a delayed version of the terrible twos.  It’s possible that these frequent meltdowns can be partially attributed to the fact that we took her pacifier away at the beginning of the summer so she no longer has her instant calming aid to take the edge off.  Or it might just be her feisty personality which isn’t so very different from her Mommy’s and Daddy’s.  Whatever the case, it is exhausting me!  She gets upset about everything:  if her shorts are crooked or I select the wrong show on Netflix or I put the wrong floaty on her at the pool and so on and so on.  One never knows what will tip her over the edge.  As I slumped on the couch during her most recent tirade, I was struck by the fact that God must get so tired of MY constant tantrums. I get so easily annoyed, angry, frustrated or stressed out.  I was watching the movie Crash for the second time (thought-provoking movie…well done) and found myself relating to Sandra Bullock’s character when she was admitting to her friend that she is always angry at someone or something. 

My husband laughs at me when I get angry because I mutter under my breath as I am chucking laundry into the washing machine or slamming silverware into the dishwasher.  Just like my 3-year- old, one never knows what will set me off:  ungrateful kids, a messy room, a classmate who makes fun of my child, a coach who doesn’t tap into my child’s potential, a family member with different standards of disciplining, a neighbor who wants us to  move our basketball hoop, a teacher who gives too much homework, a priest who does not make me feel welcome, a TV station that shows inappropriate ads, a government that prohibits religious freedom, a husband who doesn’t unroll his shirt sleeves when he throws them in the hamper.  Oh, there are so very many things that have the potential to irritate me.  So I slosh my dishes and slam my washer and whine to no one in particular.  In fact, I try not to complain to others.  I know better than to spread the negative poison so I convince myself that my irritations are justified, and I am only verbalizing them to my husband or a friend/family member here and there.  No big deal.  Ohhhhh, but it is.  I am allowing these negative thoughts to take root. 

I remember hearing an analogy once about impure thoughts: they are like birds and we should just let them fly over our heads.  It’s only if we allow the bird to build a nest in our hair that the thoughts become a problem.  The same can be said for negativity.  When I get angry or annoyed and allow myself to stay that way, feeling quite justified, it’s like I am putting up a sign on my forehead that says “hey, bird, build your nest here!”  I need to start heeding the advice I so freely give my 3-year-old (and 9 yr. old and 12 yr. old):  “If you can’t say something nice, (or positive or edifying) don’t say anything at all.”  That’s one of my Dad’s gems.  Next time I have a tantrum, I should put myself in timeout.  No, that sounds too relaxing.  Maybe I should just lose a privilege.  Or keep it really basic and simply say a prayer…right then and there…for the irritating person or frustrating situation.  Give it to God and then move on.  Let the bird fly right over my head.  I would feel much lighter without all this negativity weighing me down…. And I would certainly smell better too.

From The Desire of Being Loved (by Diane Gallagher)

Guest Blogger Wednesday :)
Pride.  One of the Seven Deadly Sins.  Often the root of many other sins.  Also, one of the easiest temptations to succumb to.  I have always been a prideful person, I am embarrassed to admit.  Internally, that is.  My parents did an excellent job teaching us to not be outwardly prideful. “Don’t flaunt your grades.” “Don’t toot your own horn. If someone else does the tooting, be humble and gracious in your response.”  But I confess that while I am quick to admit my weaknesses and failure, I do find pleasure in the things I do well.  In the past, I would have prided myself in achieving good grades, having a lot of friends, or winning student government elections.  Now I tend to take pride in my commitment to mothering (notice I didn’t say ‘being a good mother’) or in the positive traits my children may exhibit.  Even writing this blog can become a prideful temptation.  Of course, in God’s great wisdom, parenting is also the source of greatest humility for me, as I tend to take it personally whenever one of my children behaves in a less than noble manner in a public setting (see previous blog re: kids climbing on the roof).  The bickering, meanness, disobedience or whininess can all be sources of frustration for my husband and I who are working so hard to raise them in a Godly manner.  Letting go and allowing them to experience growing pains, make poor choices and learn from their mistakes is a real challenge for this prideful mother. 

I also struggle with my pride when I am not given credit for something good I may have done, or on the flip side, am possibly thought ill of for something I did not do.  I worry far too much about what other people think.  One silly but real example occurred after my two littlest ones spent some time away at my in-laws.  They were so unselfish and compassionate to give this gift of babysitting, and at one point were excitedly sharing how they had taught my 1 yr. old to go backwards down the stairs.  This was a skill I had been working on with Elly in the weeks prior to the journey to Nana’s.  Instead of swallowing my pride and allowing my in-laws a tiny bit of pleasure in their accomplishment, I had to blurt out that I had already been teaching her to do this.  I was completely annoyed with myself as the words were spitting forth from my mouth.  Pride, pride, pride.  Small incidents but great opportunities for humility … or pride … to surface depending on how we handle it.  Of course, the ultimate irony is being victorious in a moment and not allowing pride to rear its ugly head, only to find myself feeling prideful that I was so humble!

The point is that I desire to be a humble person, doing what I am called to do without need for affirmation and acknowledgement.  Part of being truly humble also means recognizing my gifts and talents and thanking God for them.  My spiritual director recently gave me a prayer that I have not uttered for a long time titled “Litany of Humility.”  It includes such lines as “From the desire of being praised, deliver me Jesus…. That in the opinion of the world, others may increase and I may decrease.”  Difficult words to say let alone to really mean.  All I can do is try.  So I will embrace the moments when my boys are openly calling each other names and fighting in the front yard as a result of heated neighborhood football game or when my family doesn't notice my efforts to clean their rooms or unpack their suitcases.  God knows the good and the bad and loves me even when others may not.  That is ultimately all that matters.

Eucharist (by Diane Gallagher)

(Guest blogger Wednesday:) We just returned from a wonderful family vacation with my parents, most of my siblings, and their families in the breathtaking Smokey Mountains.  What a week – lots of giggles tubing down the river, lots of exercise hiking in the mountains and biking through the coves, lots of sights to behold from waterfalls to bears.  There was zip-lining and white water rafting, go carting and dance parties (an impromptu music fest in the basement of our 35 person house). So much fun was had, but if I was going to be perfectly honest, one of the activities that I enjoyed / appreciated / looked forward to the most each day was daily Mass on the deck overlooking the mountains celebrated by my brother, Fr. Rich Toohey. I think one of the reasons this was such a treasured gift for me is because I don’t get to daily Mass at home these days.  This used to be part of my regular routine when I was single and even in the early days of my marriage.  It became a bigger challenge when I first had babies, but I would still get there a couple times a week.  Now I am lucky if I attend the Friday school liturgies in addition to Sunday Mass.  My attempts to get there were causing stress and tension so I realized a couple years ago that it may not be the season for this.  But I miss it.  There is something about the simplicity of daily Mass that I love…the smaller crowds, the quiet.  Most importantly, I miss receiving the daily Eucharist that nourishes my weary soul. 

I turn to so many other things to refresh me or keep me centered including good, old fashioned prayer,  exercise, fellowship, coffee, “the Voice,”J , but I don’t prioritize the Eucharist on a more frequent basis any more because it has become too hard.  Whatever happened to the ole “no pain, no gain” mentality?  It applies for my physical AND spiritual well being.  Our Tennessee vacation reminded me of this truth.  Receiving the Eucharist is absolutely the closest I can be to Jesus.  The more I receive Him, the more I can become like Him – and heaven knows (and my family knows) I need this transformation. 

I remember a friend of mine sharing that he had been in a state of depression.  He was a tough guy who did not seem prone to tears, but he admitted that he would be sitting on his bed staring at the wall and sobbing.  He didn't know why.  I can’t remember how long he suffered in this way or how he came to the next step… I just remember what he finally did that helped him crawl out of this hole.  He began to attend daily Mass.  Now I am not suggesting that Mass is a good luck charm that will outwardly solve all of our problems.  I do realize, however, that only the Lord who created me can truly give my heart what it needs for true peace and joy.  St. Augustine asserted that “my heart is restless until it rests in God.”  Sure, a glass of wine can be a nice balm at the end of a stressful day and a challenging workout on the elliptical can relieve my physical stress but nothing will bring me the long lasting peace and strength that Jesus gives me in the Eucharist.  I NEED to make this a priority in my life again.  Hopefully, by making this public, I will feel more accountable and actually make this a reality.  Being a huge fan of the Olympics, I enjoyed watching an interview with Michael Phelps yesterday after he broke the record for the number of Olympic medals received.  The newsman was focusing on the fact that Phelps did not train as hard these past 4 years and was consequently not receiving all gold medals as he had done in the past.  This struck me as I reflected on the Eucharist in preparing this blog.  I say that I want to be a good and holy wife and mother…but I don’t want to put the effort into the things that will allow me to do this.   I am grateful my brother gave me the gift of the daily Eucharist last week, and I hope that I can have the dedication to my vocation as those Olympic athletes have to theirs…..and do whatever I need to do, primarily to receive the Eucharist as often as possible, so that I can be the wife and mother God has created me to be.  No pain, no gain.

Pilgrimage (by Diane Gallagher)

Guest Blogger Wednesday!  I’ve been reading this awesome book called To The Field of Stars by Fr. Kevin Codd.  It is about this man’s pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela in Spain where, legend has it, that the bones of St. James the Greater are buried.  Pilgrims from every walk of life, age, ethnic background and religion journey together through mountains and wheat fields, blazing sun and torrential rain, with blisters and pulled tendons and back aches to reach the tomb of St. James.  It is a book that has really moved me as I am a big fan of travel and new adventures, especially in the name of spiritual growth.  As I’ve been reading, I’ve begun to mentally plan my trip to Spain:  when will I go?  With whom?  It has stirred up the ole “wanderlust” spirit within, and I have gotten excited about the potential trip. 

Yesterday, I was having an emotionally challenging day.  I was exhausted and having a little pity party for myself.  As I was rocking my fussy, fidgety 1 yr. old in an attempt to lull her to sleep, I began to daydream about this pilgrimage to Spain.  I was rudely brought back to reality when a couple of my supposedly sleeping children began to cry for me down the hall.  “Moooooommmy….I’m scared!”  “My toe hurts!”  We were already getting them all to bed later than we like (that dang summer schedule!) so my patience was worn thin.  I began to have an internal temper tantrum.  I just wanted them to all go to sleep so I could wash the dishes and clean up the kitchen that had been left in a whirlwind as we ran off to pick boys 2 and 3 up from camp (see footnote).  “I can’t do this,” I internally cried to myself, when I heard a whisper deep in my soul – reminding me, challenging me – that THIS was my pilgrimage.  Ugh.  Spain is so much more exciting!  But a true pilgrim perseveres when the going gets tough and endures all kinds of adverse conditions that others would look at and ask “why would any sane person want to go through that?”  I imagine people look at my husband and I with our 7 kids and have the same thoughts.  Pilgrims travel because they believe in the journey…and so do I.  I have days that are so challenging I want to crawl into a hole and escape.  Then there are days that are rewarding and remind me it’s all worth the pain.  I may not get blisters and pulled tendons, but my back certainly aches from carting the baby and laundry and groceries around.  I do have the aches and pains of a pilgrim mother who is journeying toward heaven, and hoping her kids follow.  It may not be as glamorous as Spain, but I believe that this destination will be more worthwhileJ 

As I reflected on all of this, I paged through the dictionary to find the official definition of pilgrimage:  “journey of a pilgrim to a sacred place” and “the course of life on earth.”  I had never thought of my life as a pilgrimage before.  Guess I was wrong.  Bring on the blisters and blazing sun… bring on the crying babies and messy kitchen.  I’m a pilgrim on one exciting journey right here in Erie, PA!

Footnote:  In his book, Fr. Codd shares about the struggles and crosses of the pilgrimage and how refreshing it is when a fellow pilgrim or a kind outsider performs an act of kindness toward you – massaging your feet or tending to a nasty blister, for example.  That night, my husband was that kind fellow pilgrim.  He, too, had an exhausting day but was downstairs doing the dishes and cleaning the kitchen while I put the kids to sleep.  Indeed, a very welcome and pleasant surprise for my weary bonesJ

Pardon the Interruption (by Diane Gallagher)

Guest Blogger Wednesday. :)  The kids seemed preoccupied so I snuck into the office to compile my grocery list and meal plan for the week only to be followed by my 1 yr old who did not want me to be sitting at the computer at that moment.  I became frustrated and slumped over to the couch where Elly began to happily play, so I wrote my blog instead.

My husband lazily woke on his second day of vacation to discover that I had a broken ipod that needed fixing (water and electronics are never a good mixL).  He had been planning on getting his motorcycle inspected or taking a walk at the beach but instead he begrudgingly spent the morning at Verizon.

 Two different scenarios but one similar theme:  what we hope to achieve or do in a day is often very different from what we actually do accomplish.  In other words, as I heard about in a recent homily, life is full of interruptions.  The question is, how do we handle them?  Maybe it’s our sleep being interrupted by a sick child or our leisure time interrupted by needy children (aforementioned needs being anything from hunger to peacemaking or help on the potty).  Maybe it’s our meal prep being interrupted by homework demands or housecleaning interrupted by car pool dilemmas.  Many times my intended plans are good and important, but just obviously not what was supposed to happen that day or at that moment.  Man, do I hate that!  When I have a goal in mind, I can get very frustrated when I do not succeed.  I can get downright annoyed at the child or circumstance that became the obstacle. 

That’s why the homily on interruptions struck such a chord with me.  The homilist pointed out how often Jesus’ plans were interrupted.  For example, He thought He was going to the mountain to pray, but instead was approached at least three times, according to one gospel account, and asked to heal someone – a leper, the centurion’s slave, Peter’s mother-in-law (Matthew 8).  Each time, He said “yes” and tended to the need at the moment, laying aside His own plan for the day.  He didn’t whine about it or say “no” because He was planning on praying and preaching that day.  This doesn’t mean He would never say “no” to an interruption if what He was doing at the moment was the priority, but it’s all about knowing when we need to be open to interruptions and allow them to change our course for the day vs. when we need to stay the course we are on.  When a friend calls to do coffee, and I am in the middle of paying my bills, I may need to say “no” to the tempting interruption.  But if that friend is upset and needs to talk, I may need to stay up late that night to get the bills paid.  Knowing the difference is the true challenge.  All I can do is pray my morning offering each day – surrendering my day to God – and then pray that I can follow His subtle or blatant nudging, trusting my gut when there are no obvious signs.  I know I make poor calls sometimes and don’t always distinguish between a necessary or unnecessary interruption, but I at least hope this awareness will help me be a little more patient the next time that anticipated two-hour nap becomes a 15 minute snooze because of a poopy diaper.  My days unfold the way they are supposed to, with just the right crosses and victories necessary for me to get to heaven.  Why fight it?

Somebody's Watching (by Diane Gallagher)

Guest Blogger Wednesday :) I was rushing into the new woman’s hospital to visit my niece who had just lost her baby six weeks prior to her due date.  We were devastated for them, so I wanted to express my sympathy and support – but had a limited window of time as my sister was sitting in the van with my two little ones, and she had to be at work soon.  I had never been in this new hospital and was totally unprepared for the heavy security that visitors had to go through in order to enter the facility.  There was a line at the desk where you had to show ID and have your photo taken.  Of course, I did not have my wallet on me since I had jumped out of the van quickly so I was trying to get the security officer’s attention just to determine if I really had to have my ID for this brief, solitary visit.  Unfortunately, he was too busy tending to the people in front of me to pay me any heed.  I was getting more and more anxious as I watched my allotted time ticking away, and I finally stepped out of line.  I noticed a receptionist sitting at a desk in the lobby so I rushed over to ask my question.  I was huffy and abrupt, very obviously annoyed.  When I asked if I could enter without ID, a gentleman next to the receptionist asked whom I was there to see.  When I told him, he very graciously extended his sympathy for our family’s loss and asked if I was a Toohey.  I reluctantly admitted that I was, and he proceeded to inform me of his fondness for my parents with whom he was acquainted and offered to facilitate a quick entry for me into the building.  I immediately apologized for my impatience, and he brushed it off, but internally I was mortified.  It was a humbling moment.  I suspect that if I had known the employees at the hospital or realized that they knew my family, I would have been more patient and kind in my response to the situation.  I subconsciously let my guard down simply because I thought these people were strangers, and I wasn’t accountable for my deeds.  My impatience reflected poorly on my family, myself, and God whom I claim to follow.  Where was my whole “golden rule” behavior?  “Do unto others as you would have them do to you.”  I’m not just supposed to exhibit that attitude when it is easy and convenient.  It’s supposed to be a part of my every interaction. 

I remember my sister sharing a story about a time she went to a party.  The host and hostess were upstairs in the baby’s room, gossiping about some of the guests and didn’t realize the baby monitor was on. Awkward.   Likewise, a friend of mine accidentally pocket dialed the person that she and her spouse were “venting” about at that moment.  What timing!  These incidents are good reminders of the behavior we should always be demonstrating, though.  My sister had been appalled by the baby monitor conversation and responded that none of us should ever be saying anything in private that could not be shared in public.  Yikes!  Another good lesson for me.  I don’t generally gossip but can definitely say more than I should, especially to my husband, in the name of “healthy venting” when I’m struggling with a person or situation.  The bottom line is that I shouldn’t be saying or doing anything in private or in public that would embarrass me, get me into trouble, or disappoint my Heavenly Father.  I frequently tell my children to ask themselves if they would be saying, watching, doing what they are if Jesus was standing next to them.  I guess I should apply this to my life as well.  I have a feeling I will be learning these valuable lessons until the day I die, being human and all.  Hopefully, I won’t destroy my family’s reputation in the process.J

Out of Control (by Diane Gallagher)

 Guest Blogger Wednesday :) The older my children get, the more I feel “out of control.”  Out of control of their preferences, their choice of friends, their bedrooms etc...  Granted, I still can “control” their actions by grounding them from x-box, tv, and other electronics, but I have very little to say about how they truly feel on the inside….and that is a scary feeling.  I look at their individual personalities, strengths and weaknesses and yes, I sometimes see Jim and I mirrored in them, for better or worse.  They also possess traits that neither Jim nor I exhibit, for better or worse.J  I suppose it is the whole nature vs. nurture phenomenon.  Even though my older children are only at the middle school/junior high level, they are beginning to develop crushes, particular tastes in music, and want to choose their own styles in clothing, etc.  It is so hard for me to shut my mouth and stifle the lectures as I desperately try to impose my preferences on them.  How challenging it is to let them be who God created them to be which may be very different from what I was expecting.  The whole process requires balance and prayer, as I’ve written in previous blogs, in order to determine which battles to fight, which causes are worth it, and which issues are salvation issues.

One small example of this is occurring in our household right now with my eldest son (I am fully aware that these issues get bigger as the kids grow up….can’t wait!)  He is a big music fan, often times preferring songs that would not be on the Christian music charts.  In fact, he is not really crazy about Christian music period, much to my disappointment.  I have purchased the WOW cd’s (a compilation of the top Christian hits of the years from various artists) so he could listen to a variety of music and scoured the iTunes store with him to try to come up with some songs he might like.  Unfortunately, he has found only one song that he has actually downloaded onto his iPod.  Our last ditch effort is coming up this weekend:  my husband, who is not a huge Christian music fan himself but sees the merit in it, is taking my three boys to the Creation Music Festival.  They will campout in our tent, eat over the fire, participate in some “extreme” sports – and listen to a plethora of Christian artists from every musical genre possible.  We figure that this might spark some greater interest in our boys, particularly our eldest, to see the musicians live in concert and get caught up in the festival hype.  Then it is time to let go.  Surrender.  It is out of our control. We have to allow our children to be themselves … not little Jim and Diane robots.  I realize that every parent will have a different limit that is between themselves, God and the child before they relinquish control.  “As long as you are living under my roof ” kind of thing.  It is so important to have those standards until our children reach adulthood.  The trick is to determine when we need to enforce and when we need to relinquish.  Forcing my son to “like” certain music is probably not going to be very effective.  I can tell him he is not allowed to download music with bad language or messages and he may not watch music videos that are inappropriate, but I cannot force my musical tastes on him.  This is when I must remember that my children are only mine temporarily.  They are gifts from God for my husband and I to raise and nurture the best we can, but they are ultimately His.  I must entrust them to Him….easy to say but hard to do.  The more I let myself move out of the driver seat, the more I can relax as a passenger.  It’s actually quite freeing to be “out of control.” J

"A" For Effort (by Diane Gallagher)

Guest blogger Wednesday : )

Before the end of the school year, I went to an academic awards ceremony honoring the highest achievers in 5^th and 6^th grade children in each subject.  I admit that I was hesitant to make this ceremony a priority as I was uncertain if my boys would win.  Having the three little ones with me, I definitely make choices and don’t get to all of the school events.  Regardless, I chose to attend and was glad that my boys’ names were called a couple times for various acknowledgments (and the smiles on their faces when they looked over at me made the effort worth itJ).  What pleased me even more was that the staff was not just honoring those with highest achievement, but they also gave an award in each subject to those who made the greatest effort.  I am a sucker for effort.  Whether as a teacher back in my pre-“married with children” days or as a mother in my current state of life, I respond much better to a child who makes great effort but fails than I do to the one who does something half-heartedly and somehow achieves success. 

Now, as a mother I often feel like a total failure…sometimes because I lose my temper or I am unhappy about how I handle a situation, other times because my children do something embarrassing or thoughtless that could not possibly have happened if his/her mother was a good parent!   But as I reflected on the academic awards in effort, I found great solace.  I have always told my children and friends that while I may only receive a “D” in achievement as a parent, I most definitely get an “A” for effort.  My husband and I have tried more discipline plans, more chore charts, more prayer schedules than one could fathom.  We have read books (not always so helpful…refer to earlier blogJ), gone on diets or tried to determine what we need to do to improve ourselves so we can be better, more patient parents. I wake up early to pray and put on the armor of God before the battles begin each day. We have joined bible studies, implemented new strategies…all to be better parents or bring more peace/order/faithfulness/love to our family life.   But we forget to keep track of the chores, and we lose our temper when they delete our videos off our flipcam or smash our ipad (true stories), and we let them watch too much TV or play too much X-box sometimes.  Then there’s that cookie I let my 2 yr. old eat right before dinner because I just can’t handle one more tantrum.  Not so successful in the world’s eyes.  Fortunately, Mother Theresa reminded us that “God doesn’t ask us to be successful ... just faithful.”  So I will not give up, though I am tempted to sometimes.   I will appreciate those occasional successes when a parent tells me how well-mannered and kind my son is or one of them gets 1^st honors or wins the student council elections.  And I will try not to crawl into a hole when my neighbor calls to tell me my son was climbing on the roof of our house or my 2 yr. old is running around naked in the front yard. “God doesn’t ask us to be successful, just faithful.”  I am faithful.  I know He is pleased with my attempts in spite of my failures, and I do believe He would give me an “A” for effort (though I might have a checkmark next to conduct).  I guess there’s always room for improvement!

Enjoy Your Children (by Diane Gallagher)

Guest blogger Wednesday :)

“Enjoy your children!”  These were the gentle yet firm words spoken to me by my spiritual director on more than one occasion.  Enjoy them?  How the heck am I supposed to do that?  I can easily be exhausted by them…or frustrated… or embarrassed by them….or get angry with them.  But enjoy them?  I have to cook and clean and do laundry and homework and change diapers and go grocery shopping and tend sick kids and pay bills.  Just exactly when am I supposed to enjoy them?  Having a children ranging in age from 1 to 12 also provides a challenge.  How do I do fun things with them that will satisfy the entertainment meter of my 5 yr old glamour girl and my 12 yr old “air soft freak” as he calls himself?  An impossible task, or so it would seem.  The perfectionist in me wants to come up with creative activities to do with my kids so we can “enjoy” each other (I used to do this more often when I just had my 3 boys).  Now I have no energy for creative activities.  It seems I am so task oriented that I take every free moment to get more work done.  I actually have to force myself to sit down and “play” with my kids sometimes (other than night and naptime stories or walks to our neighborhood park).  I think this is partially because I set my standards for enjoyment too high.  I do not need to have an afternoon to go to a movie with my boys.  How about 10 minutes to talk while I am doing dishes and my 9 yr old is sharing about his latest dodge ball game in gym class.  Or 15 minutes to play one round of Candyland with my 3 and 5 yr olds instead of trying to carve out a couple hours to go to a princess dance party.  These bigger events can be fun and important too, but I don’t need to forego the small ones just because I am attempting to plan the bigger ones, which are much less frequent.  To me, enjoying my children means laughing with them, appreciating their good qualities and talents, taking time to just be with them and come to know them better.  I know I will be sad one day that I didn’t take time to do this more.  The dishes will always be there.   I am looking forward to taking a cake decorating class with my 11 yr. old son, but I also need to appreciate watching my 7 yr old blast her way down the soccer field and my 1 yr old waddle across our kitchen floor clutching a cereal box that is as big as she is.  Enjoyment comes in many forms and that is my challenge – to find ways to enjoy each one of my children every day even if that means peeking in their bedrooms at the end of a long day and smiling upon their sleeping faces.  After all, St. Therese said “does a parent love their children any less when they are sleeping?  No, sometimes even more!” 

Footnote:  It was the end of a long, busy day and I was finally sitting down with a glass of wine, my paper and pen.  I was actually going to attempt to write my blog a little early and in a peaceful environment!  I was about half way through when my 11 year old shuffled in the room and asked if he could sit on my lap.  My first reaction (sadly) was to say no because I wanted to finish my writing, and I was on a roll.  Before the words could come out of my mouth, I realized that this was an opportunity to put my money where my mouth is and to take a moment to enjoy my son.  He does not sit on my lap often as it is usually filled by my 1 yr. old, 3 yr old or 5 yr old.  This was a rare moment to cherish, not brush off.  So I put my paper and pen down and enjoyed 5 minutes snuggling and chatting with my son, and then he was ready to move on.  I am so glad I made the right choice… and writing this blog is what helped me make itJ

“Preach the Gospel always ... use words when necessary” (by Diane Gallagher)

Guest blogger Wednesday :) Many of you have probably heard the saying from St. Francis of Assisi, “Preach the gospel always.  Use words when necessary.”  I love this phrase probably because I am not a good debater.  I have great ideas in my head, but if I am caught off guard and challenged, my words get all muddled and I have a hard time articulating my thoughts.  So the idea that my actions can be a form of preaching is a great source of comfort (also a little scary when my actions are less than Christ-likeJ).  I was given a great gift last year when a friend of mine shared a story of how my actions positively impacted another, and I had no idea!  I was at an ice skating rink watching my 6 yr old when a stranger and I began to converse.  I was expecting my 7^th baby at the time … and the usual conversation took place:  “Oh…is this your 2^nd baby?”  To which I replied, “Not quite … it’s my 7^th.” This response usually evokes a range of reactions from “Wow!  How do you do it?” to “Do you know how this happens?”  or “Are you done now?” to “You’ve got your hands full!”  Most of the time, people are pretty positive and friendly regardless of their initial reaction … and this was no exception. The woman turned to her husband and said “did you hear that?  She is expecting her 7^th baby.”  We continued gabbing for a couple minutes, but it was not a long conversation as the girls were finishing their lesson.  We exchanged farewells, and I never thought of the conversation again.  I did not evangelize or say how great it is to have 7 kids…. I even felt a little guilty that I didn’t say more.  I simply shared that we didn’t necessarily plan it but were trying to be open ...  that my husband and I both came from larger families and liked it.  That’s all.  I didn’t quote scripture or the Catechism.  I was just myself. 

Months later I was talking to a friend of mine (not one I see or talk to often as she lives about ½ hr outside of Erie), and she told me a fun little story.   She has some friends who have a couple kids and who thought they were done, but had recently been struggling with this and wondering if they should be open to more.  They shared that they had been at an ice skating rink and met a woman who was pregnant with her 7^th child.  Surprisingly, our little conversation and meeting seemed to affect them, and they decided to try to have more babies.  My friend thought of me and asked the woman what I looked like.  When she discovered that it was me, she was quick to tell me about it.  I was so grateful that she shared this chain of events as my husband and I were a little overwhelmed with the idea of having a 7^th and were still adjusting to what this would mean.  It was refreshing and humbling to see that our situation could help another person/family.  God gave me that little gift to encourage and affirm me … that my witness goes a long way.  I don’t always have to be the most eloquent speaker or informed debater (though God certainly uses those gifts in other individuals) to share His light and message.  I do not often feel worthy as I am so aware of my own faults and weaknesses, but God uses me in spite of my sins. You never know how your actions or simple words might be just the gospel message that the stranger, family member or friend needed to see/hear.  “Preach the gospel always.  Use words when necessary.”  St. Francis, pray for us.