Oh To Be So Bold

I read a book last year, and there were times it was difficult for me to do so.  Aren't the ones that hit close to home always a bit of a gut check?!  Its contents are all in its title, Unoffendable, and I soon realized that there are certain things in my life that make me more defensive than others.  Father Mike Schmitz said there is an easy remedy to being offended.  You can ask yourself a question...is what people are saying about you true?  If it is true, than you really have no reason to be offended.  If it isn't, you don't have a reason either.  Simple, right?

Sometimes.

But others, I've realized I'm too sensitive.  I care if I hurt people's feelings.  I care when they hurt mine.  Yet, I try and try to be different...more detached.

Again, sometimes it works.  Sometimes it doesn't.

Fast forward to the point...I just returned from one of the most wonderful vacations with my in-laws ever.  We spent a week on the beach in Florida, and from the sugar-like sand to the unreal color of the water and delicious food, it was perfection...something we had looked forward to for months!

But, before we even landed in the Sunshine State, the comments about the size of my family were rolling in.  And, I've decided, that it's time for me to be a bit more bold.  If others are so forthcoming in their concerns about the soon-to-be seven little people who have nothing to do with them, then maybe it is time their mother stood up a bit more when their existence is deemed a mistake.

Typically I smile and give a little laugh, deep down hurting and yet wanting to make these people understand just how much I love my big family.  But, then I envision those days in college when some of my Protestant friends drilled me on my Catholic faith over and over again to the point that I realized the frustration with not being able to convey why I loved my faith to the point that they may love it, too, usually just resulted in hard feelings and an evening that was anything but fruitful.  So instead, I try to live my life and let its message speak for itself.  Sometimes it does.  And again, other times it doesn't.

So here I am now with a few things to say.

For the person who counts my children loudly while rolling his eyes...I have six.  And, another coming.  And, I might have more later.  I am not sorry for that.  I am only sorry you cannot see the beauty in each human life.

For the man who wanted to give my husband the contact name for his urologist...that is never happening.  He isn't broken, and therefore does not need fixing.

For those worried that I might not remember I have six other children who need a mommy when I announce a seventh coming...being their mommy is what I do, all day long, every day.  I love it, even on the hard days (and there are some really hard ones).  I am healthy, and no I don't know what each day will bring or if a pregnancy will result in a tragedy.  But, none of us do.  So, I will remain open to the will of Someone who is in much greater control of that than I'll ever be.

For the people and their exasperated, "My God!(s)" (sorry, don't know how to annotate that), yes, He is my God, too, and He gave us each of these miracles.  And, with the follow up, "Bless your heart!(s)" -- my heart is is a pretty great place right now.

For those who tell me that it's time to do a little planning, I'm getting a little out of my comfort zone here since you seemed to as well...each one of these seven (and the two lost) were planned, down to the day.  Yes, we know what causes it.  We do have a TV.  We are about as responsible as they come.  And, maybe we plan to a fault.  Maybe a little spontaneity would be good for us....but there again, it may result in something that you apparently think isn't good for you.  So, we'll hold off on that for a bit.

For the friend who called my other friend to engage in a talk of how I might have lost my mind...maybe I have, but I wouldn't have it any other way.  And if you ever want to ask me why we choose to do life this way, I'd be happy to visit.

Honestly, for anyone who decides to crack a joke at our expense (really, is there such thing as "just joking" - or is it always simply an easy way to say what you want to say without bearing the burden of hurting the brunt of the so-called joke)...don't.

Why the comments?  Why the questioning?  Why do you care so much about a family that isn't even your own?  Truly, I would like to know.

We have never asked for help raising these kids.  We've never asked for financial support.  We have not brought seven children into the world to affect anyone else.

Wait, we have.

I have been pregnant over four years and have spent the last eight raising these little gifts in hopes of changing the world.  I want them to be a shining example of life in a culture that often sees theirs as a mistake.  I want the world to see the looks on these babies' faces when a new sibling of theirs comes home from the hospital.  I want those of you who suggest the multiple fixes for their parents' "behavior" to see that there is not a thing that needs fixing.

In being open to life, we are maybe "giving up" what you deem to be a successful life.   But, maybe that definition of success is where everything went wrong.

This last week in Florida may be the only vacation we ever take of its kind.  Because while we love escaping to a new place just as much as anyone else, the truth is...we may not be able to afford it because of all of these kiddos.  We may never meet Mickey in person.  Our kids may not receive the latest gadgets every year from the man in the red suit.  They may not graduate from college or trade school debt-free.  But what if they don't even go?  What if I told you the memories they make with each other, the support they have from six more siblings, and the state of their souls (and ours!) is far more important?  Or what about this...that with each new addition, they are learning to be less demanding, less selfish, and more thankful for the true gifts in this life?

You might not believe it.

We may not have it all.  But, what if we do?

Yes it is difficult.  In fact, raising children is the most difficult thing I have ever done and will ever do (and I've had a doozy or two of a boss in my life).  Their lives right now are completely dependent on me and my husband.  The way we raise them and the examples we set for them form their foundation.  And our goal?  Not to make your life easier by not having to see this crazy family over-populating the Earth (by the way, that's wrong, too), but instead, to do everything in our power to point back and eventually get back to Him.

I know just what a challenge that is.  And, truthfully, I fail miserably at it daily.  But, really, that is all I should care about.

I must work on that.

Because while I wonder why I let this bother me so much at times, deep down I think I know...I would never say something like that to you.  I don't offer my opinion on what might make a stranger's failing marriage work.  I don't scoff at the person who has no children because I think I know better what is good for them.  I don't know what each of you is dealing with daily.  And, frankly, you don't know that about me either.

So, why not build each other up and draw people back into the beauty that can be life?

This is us.  Almost seven now.  Maybe more later.  And, I won't let the world convince them that they are mistakes.  Ever.

Please don't try to do so either.*

*For those of you who have been so very kind about our family, thank you.  I cannot tell you what it does for my soul.  I don't expect those compliments, ever, and that's not why I'm raising these babies either.  But they sure do make the jokes easier to bear.

He is Risen...and Lent is Over

Well, Lent is over.  And, once again, I feel like I kind of failed.  I know that's an issue with pride, and that, in and of itself, needs improvement.  I didn't give anything up.  I was only going to read my Lenten study and pray more.  Guess how many days I even made it with my study this year?  I think 14?  And, I hear over and over again that we need to let Him write our Lent.  But, sometimes it's so hard for me to not view that just as an excuse to not try or a cop-out.  Isn't this supposed to be a period of fasting from the things that pull us away from Him?  Aren't we supposed to turn our eyes and heart back to Him and His passion over and over again and in some way feel that in our own lives?

Instead, maybe I only participated in two weeks of my study.  Maybe I ate more junk than I typically do during ordinary season.  Maybe I even did more internet shopping than I have in months.  And, that plan to not yell at my children maybe even got worse than it was before Ash Wednesday?

WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?!

I had it all wrong.  I seem to always.  I want to focus on making me better.  I want to correct all of my failings (and believe me, there are a lot).  I want to be less addicted to sugar, online shopping, yelling and failing again and again to make prayer a prominent part of my daily life.

I want to fix me.  

But, I can't.

He can.  But, I can't seem to let Him, and I have no idea why.  And as every Ash Wednesday rolls back around, I give it my hardest try (or maybe I don't)...but again it ends in a way I don't want it to...with a greater inward focus and an even farther distance from He who is calling me closer.

Lent was truly given to me this year.  It came in the form of the death of a grandmother, maybe ten days that weren't infested with sickness (we finally fumigated our home, ha!), and exhaustion.  It came in the form of having many opportunities to work on my patience with my children yet missing them almost every time.

And, in the stillness, I know He was saying, "Little one, I'm giving you so many opportunities to come to Me...to lay it all down and let me envelop you in my love.  Stop trying so hard to do it all on your own.  Humble yourself and come to Me for help.  That is all I want...you...to come to Me."  But, I didn't.

It was late one evening that I was spent and ready to fall flat into bed that I picked up He and I.  I had not journaled, read my Bible, or prayed silently in days.  I really just wanted to sleep but I felt guilty.  And this is what I read...(Jesus' words to his daughter, Gabrielle)

"Keep in mine this prayer, 'Lord deliver me from anxiety about trifles.  Everything is insignificant apart from God whose life in you should daily seek to increase.'"

"With your merit in mind, I wanted you to seek Me in the darkness and to discover Me again in the half-light.  Light untold will be for later on.  Didn't I myself pass through dark hours when My divinity seemed to drift apart from My humanity?  How I fraternized with you, taking upon Myself all of your weaknesses, My poor little ones.  I was indeed 'a man' among men.  And even before my passion, I knew what suffering was.  I loved it for the love of you, My children.  Love it for the love of Me.  I'll transform it into transformations for others, and into glory for you, since you find everything again in Heaven.  So take courage for suffering, My little children.  There are some people who can't do without suffering, so deeply have they experienced how it brings them close to Me."

"Then turn your sorrowful eyes upon Me.  Show Me your sufferings, My dear little ones.  You are already in My heart even though you thought you were so far from Me, so far.  Day by day, try to find Me in you, and there, like very little children, give Me the marks of tenderness that you would give to a mother or a beloved father.  How happy you will be when you have acquired this habit.  How sweet your life will become."

Love suffering.

Love suffering for the love of Him.

Got it, God.  Help me to turn my everything toward you.

My pride fills me up so much that I desire perfection and convince myself that He desires that, too.  And, while I do believe He wants us to strive after Him in the very best way we can, He doesn't want us to do it on our own.  We can't.  And, in thinking so, we don't need Him.  And, in failing over and over, He shows us that His mercy endures, and than only His hands can both carry His cross and ours.  

Forgive me, Lord.  And, help me.

We truly did have a blessed Easter.  Even in my frustrations with myself, I do know how much I have to be thankful for.  Thankful for this faith that continually pushes me closer to Him, for the trials that make me do these inner-critiques, and these seven people who show me what it means to be His. 

We spent the day at one of my most favorite Masses of the year (Christ the Lord is Risen Today will always be one of my favorites) next to Good Friday, ate a wonderful meal with family, and sat back and watched the joy of childhood.

I get caught up in myself too much and in trying to do it all right all the time, but the truth is, I don't even know what that is, and I just run myself ragged trying to be something that is impossible for me.  I'm going to try not to feel like a fraud.  I'm going to try not to busy myself just for the sake of being busy.  And, I'm going to try to let Him regain control of my life...if for nothing else than showing these sweet ones how to let Him love us.

Have the most blessed Easter season!  He. Is. Risen.  Alleluia!

September: In Review

I let my hair go. Ha!

 Our other grandmother Felicia taught us how to make tamales...and tortillas.

 We made part of the basement a workshop for the kids.

 And, Sophie helped me prepare to be a High Fitness Instructor!

To Know Thyself

This Lent I did something different.  I didn't give up my yearly sweets.  I didn't give up snacking.  In fact, I didn't really give up anything.  Daily I tried to make sacrifices and not place all of the outcome on how often I failed.  The one thing I committed to was a daily prayer journal and rosary.  Did I do it every day?  Sadly, I didn't, but I tried.  And my prayer this year was that the forty day journey would allow me a deeper understanding of myself...my failings, my strengths, my temptations and the areas in which I needed to trust more.

At the end of Lent, I felt a bit more at peace most days.  But, not every day, and I don't think that's to be expected.  I didn't receive any great revelations.  I didn't wake up on Easter morning as a brand new creation.  In fact, I think the revelation that has come about has been a little gnawing at my heart that has simply grown stronger as a result of making time for more prayer and contemplation...and a few well-timed articles. (Here, here and here).

254 likes on one photo.  2,700 followers.  Comments here and there.  

"I don't know how you do it all."

"You have such a gift."

From the minute I wake up to my last blink at night, I'm attached to my phone.  I live for the affirmations of the likes, comments and messages.  I claim to just want the photos for albums via Chatbooks, but would I still do it if I turned off the comments?  Would I still blog if no one read it?  

I'm not so sure I would.

I like to be the mom who doesn't let anything fall through the cracks (although it does).  I like to be seen as the one who "does it all."  I like people telling me they think my photos are moving.  And, while I don't think it is wrong to like to be affirmed, I've placed too much (way too much) stock in the affirmation of those around me.

Why can't I find time to pray more than at meals and evenings and the rosary a few times a week? Why don't I read more than a book or two a year?  Why have the last few weeks of homeschooling looked more like a race to finish the daily assignment than to open a dialog for a love for learning?

It isn't because I have six kids six and under.  It isn't because I have to make and clean up three meals a day.  It isn't because I have to answer a million questions at once.  Because...that is the life of a mom, and it's not anything out of the ordinary.

It's because I cannot get through fifteen minutes of life without entering my four-digit passcode to unlock a world of affirmation, comparison, and general unrest. 

"Just a minute kids! (can't you see I'm busy on my phone??)"  "Stop talking for a second, I can't concentrate."  On what?   On replying to a comment on Instagram to someone I don't even really know while my child is looking up at me forgetting what they even began to ask.  Over and over again.

I jump online to compare myself to other photographers.  I see all of the latest trends via some of my favorite Instagram profiles.  I am puffed up when the comments keep coming and wonder what I did wrong when they don't.  Honestly, that's a bit of an exaggeration.  But, I do find so much affirmation in this world of instant gratification that I don't seek the affirmation from the only place it should come.

I allow myself to be filled up by a world that isn't even my own.  I don't have enough time to open up His word because I am too busy reading theirs.  I revel in the gorgeous images of other children and moments of love captured on the back of a camera so eloquently when I have real life versions of my very own underfoot.

No, I don't feel that every single second of my waking hours should be devoted to my children, but they (and my husband!  And most importantly my God) deserve more than what is left over.

I have met some of the most beautiful souls via the web.  And, I've come to various writings time and time again that have given me hope when my days have been less than perfect.  The conversations I've had between other moms in the same place, younger women aspiring to the same vocation, and those wise women who have gone before have been just what I've needed so often.

What I haven't needed is where I am now...on the other side of daily boost of pride that I already have a difficult time taming.  Affirmation or rejection coming from a world I want to be in but not of.  An addiction to an object that brings forth no life.

Someone posted this verse last week, and it hit me like a ton of bricks:

"Their idols are silver and gold, the work of human hands.  They have mouths but do not speak, eyes but do not see.  They have ears but do not hear, noses but do not smell.  They have hands but do not feel, feet but do not walk; they produce no sound from their throats." Psalm 115: 4-7

Social media is not all bad.  But, I have not been able to moderate my inhalation of it.  In turn, I am not being who I want to be.  Addicted to the instant gratification and chatter, I am not present nor aware of the very life I have been called to live.

If I never get another "like" or comment or share, does it truly matter?  It has to me for far too long.

I don't know exactly what I'll do, but I think I'll continue to blog as I can because I love to write, and this place allows for my love of photography, too.  But, I'm getting off Facebook, and maybe Instagram...or turning comments off of that.  It isn't in hopes of shutting myself off from those whose friendships I love.  More so, it's a way for me to get back to a reality that I've only played a half-there role in for too long.  Feel free to subscribe to the blog or shoot me an email (britt.fisk@gmaill.com) or even comment here at any time!  It isn't the communication I'm trying to get away from...just finally admitting that I cannot put all of this in its proper place.

Who knows, I may even pick up a book, tend to a garden or take a walk uninhibited by my handheld world...all while seeking the affirmation of the only One whose approval I should have been worried about all along.

Growing Up

To say life has been a little crazy around here would be true.  The transition to eight really has gone well, but as with any major life changes, there have been glitches, so to speak.

The kids love, love, love Henry.  And, they all want to help out.  But, I feel they all want to help at once, and maybe whoever yells the loudest will get picked?  Or whoever whines the most from not getting picked may be chosen the next time? 

Whatever it is, right now our home is a lot louder and a tiny bit more dramatic.  Maybe more than a tiny bit actually.  All the while, I'm trying to not lose my cool when the child who once rarely complained is now whining at every turn.

As has happened in the past, I know life will normalize, and we'll get into a new groove.  In fact, we are closer every day.  

But, for now, I find myself getting lost on my phone while feeding Henry, checking Facebook mindlessly, and trying to not miss a minute of our captured life on Instagram.

And, sometimes I feel that it's draining.  I don't really know why.  Maybe it's because my introverted nature needs quiet or something mindless to recompose and recharge.  Or maybe it's because I sometimes feel guilty being too "plugged in" - I am trying to find a balance.  Because, sometimes I see moms post of their children who are now teens and how it has all happened way too fast.  Those moments I just want to follow my children around like a dog on a leash, not missing a moment.  Then the fighting and whining and whatever-is-not-going-right happens, and I already need another break. Ha!

So, I feel I will always struggle with holding on and letting go...with each of my babies, those I love, and the silly things like Instagram and it's ability to store our memories for a day when we want to look back and cry over how quickly time has passed (see, it's such a catch-22).

Anyway, life is good.  It always is.  It's just a bit more chaotic now, but I think that happens when hearts are opened to loving more.  

So, while I'd like to do more (and often do at the expense of missing the quiet moments), our daily happenings are a little something like this as of late.

Getting dressed.

Combing hair.

Doing a little school, cleaning up of the toys (x1572), meal-making, baby-feeding, request fielding, cartoon watching, and basic life living.

Taking a bit of time to "stop" and just recompose.

And, adding some comic relief.

If I have too much time to think right now, as these hormones normalize, too, I become a big puddly mess of my-kids-will-leave-soon-and-I'll-always-miss-them-being-little.  I have to steer myself away from that almost hourly.  And, then I kick myself for having my phone too close, too much.  So, I guess the distraction of their drama right now is a welcomed one.  I know they won't stop growing up. I just pray I get used to it!