I've gotta ask, is anyone else upset about Tampax changing their tampons? I am. I've used the same tampons for years, decades even ... and now, they are different.
How did this happen? Why didn't I know before it was going to happen and have time to stock up on the old style? Why didn't this make the news or something? I didn't see it head-lined on any women's magazine. Why does the modern world ignore something that happens to a woman for most of her life, for one week a month?
I've checked their site and I didn't find anything to explain when, why or how this happened.
I hate the new tampons. I've tried finding boxes of the old ones with little success.
I would have thought, after years and years of one tampon style, they would still offer it as an option for purchase even if they made new ones.
Go figure.
December 9, 2007
August 9, 2007
Front loaders can felt!
For those of you waiting for the results of my experiment with felting in a front loader, it can be done.
I put it through once on hot, in a pillow cover, no spin. Didn't felt enough, but no creases. So, I put it through a second time, gentle spin with 3 tennis balls; just the right felting, some creases.
For future projects, I'll go with the no spin, but with tennis balls and probably put it through twice.
I've blocked the bag and don't think the creases will come out 100%, but since none of them are deep, I don't think it's going to detract from the bag. It certainly doesn't affect it's usefulness. It's the first bag I've done with pockets and a thread through cord for handles instead of sewing them on.
If I get the chance, I'll post pictures.
I put it through once on hot, in a pillow cover, no spin. Didn't felt enough, but no creases. So, I put it through a second time, gentle spin with 3 tennis balls; just the right felting, some creases.
For future projects, I'll go with the no spin, but with tennis balls and probably put it through twice.
I've blocked the bag and don't think the creases will come out 100%, but since none of them are deep, I don't think it's going to detract from the bag. It certainly doesn't affect it's usefulness. It's the first bag I've done with pockets and a thread through cord for handles instead of sewing them on.
If I get the chance, I'll post pictures.
Happy Rain!
Ah, rain! It’s a beautiful thing. I’m so happy it’s raining. People talk about perfect weather being sunshine, steady temps year round, but for me, it’s all about the changes. Stinking hot, then cooling rain. I love it. But, then I love humidity too! In fact, the few times I’ve been in San Diego, Colorado and Arizona I couldn’t stand the lack of humidity. I think humidity is great for your skin; or at least for mine.
I’m felting. I’m felting a bag that I love. I’m afraid, because it’s the first time felting in my new front loader. I’ve been sitting downstairs watching it go around, wondering if this is going to work, is it going to crease, am I going to have to run it through 3 hours of cycles? I researched on the web and found mixed reviews. Some say yay, some say nay. Some say it depends on the machine itself. Regardless, I got tired of looking at the finished bag and had to do something. So, I’m going for it!
We are headed down the shore this weekend. It’s with mixed feelings that I go. These are details for another post, but in a nut shell, when my father died last year, our place on the bay passed to my step-mother. So, a few weeks back, we arrived to find all our personal belongings packed up. It’s an interesting development. I really need to post on this, but the details will have to wait. To be fair, the place does belong to SM. So, being proactive, we are buying our own place and are very excited about it!
We’ll be spending the weekend with our two adorable nieces, 6 and 4 years old. What fun! I can’t wait to splash in the water, roast marshmallows and enjoy them. They love their aunt and uncle and are very excited we are going to share this time with them. I am grateful I have a sister-in-law who shares her little ones with me.
My mother says I am a mom to many children, just not my own. I am learning to take comfort in this as my role, perhaps the role God planned for me. I feel blessed to be trusted with other people’s children. Mothers need people like that in their lives. And today, that’s me.
I’m felting. I’m felting a bag that I love. I’m afraid, because it’s the first time felting in my new front loader. I’ve been sitting downstairs watching it go around, wondering if this is going to work, is it going to crease, am I going to have to run it through 3 hours of cycles? I researched on the web and found mixed reviews. Some say yay, some say nay. Some say it depends on the machine itself. Regardless, I got tired of looking at the finished bag and had to do something. So, I’m going for it!
We are headed down the shore this weekend. It’s with mixed feelings that I go. These are details for another post, but in a nut shell, when my father died last year, our place on the bay passed to my step-mother. So, a few weeks back, we arrived to find all our personal belongings packed up. It’s an interesting development. I really need to post on this, but the details will have to wait. To be fair, the place does belong to SM. So, being proactive, we are buying our own place and are very excited about it!
We’ll be spending the weekend with our two adorable nieces, 6 and 4 years old. What fun! I can’t wait to splash in the water, roast marshmallows and enjoy them. They love their aunt and uncle and are very excited we are going to share this time with them. I am grateful I have a sister-in-law who shares her little ones with me.
My mother says I am a mom to many children, just not my own. I am learning to take comfort in this as my role, perhaps the role God planned for me. I feel blessed to be trusted with other people’s children. Mothers need people like that in their lives. And today, that’s me.
July 11, 2007
Conversion conclusion
The parish I belong to is small. I would have been the only person going through RCIA. I knew of a larger local parish that had a formal, established RCIA program. I talked to my priest and he agreed that attending RCIA there would be a good idea. I wanted the discussion and group learning experience a larger parish could provide.
My RCIA class had about 18 people in it. That’s a large number for our “cluster” of five churches, (per our diocese, we are the North XYZ County Cluster). Interestingly enough, my sponsor was from a third church in our cluster. Classes run from school year to school year. I started late and had to follow through to the next class before being able to participate in the Easter Vigil.
Both my husband and I had been previously married. We had to go through the annulment process. We were lucky. Our previous marriages had not involved a Priest and this qualified us for the “short” annulment process. Others in our class had more difficult annulments to face.
There were two types of people attending this RCIA class; those who were converting because their betrothed was Catholic and those who had decided to become Catholic after a search for faith. To me, the difference in these two types was remarkable. Some of us were there to delve deeper into understanding of the church, attended as many sessions as possible, go to Mass regularly and study. Some barley made it through the mandatory requirements to participate. For me, an entire year of my life revolved around RCIA. It was intense. I cried. I laughed. I really, really enjoyed it.
Sadly, a member of our RCIA class died weeks before Easter. She was in her 30s and it was a shock. She had a heart attack. She was buried as a Catholic. It made the process bitter sweet. The death of the Pope after Easter was also a shock. We all wondered if Easter Vigil would have been put on hold if he had died a few weeks earlier. As a mature adult, I knew that wouldn’t have been the case, but we were like children at this point. We were a flock, following our shepherd.
Easter Vigil is the most moving of all services for me; the dark church, the candles, the new faithful. Never in my life have I experienced such an evening. To receive the host for the first time as a Catholic brings tears to my eyes.
It was a significant day and has shaped the rest of my life. I can think of nothing else that has had the impact becoming Catholic has on my life. Marriage, yes. Infertility, yes. Death, yes. But all of these come back to being Catholic in how I handle them, not the other way around. Being Catholic is first. My faith is first. It’s not something I could have planned or imagined or brought into being. It was Grace.
My RCIA class had about 18 people in it. That’s a large number for our “cluster” of five churches, (per our diocese, we are the North XYZ County Cluster). Interestingly enough, my sponsor was from a third church in our cluster. Classes run from school year to school year. I started late and had to follow through to the next class before being able to participate in the Easter Vigil.
Both my husband and I had been previously married. We had to go through the annulment process. We were lucky. Our previous marriages had not involved a Priest and this qualified us for the “short” annulment process. Others in our class had more difficult annulments to face.
There were two types of people attending this RCIA class; those who were converting because their betrothed was Catholic and those who had decided to become Catholic after a search for faith. To me, the difference in these two types was remarkable. Some of us were there to delve deeper into understanding of the church, attended as many sessions as possible, go to Mass regularly and study. Some barley made it through the mandatory requirements to participate. For me, an entire year of my life revolved around RCIA. It was intense. I cried. I laughed. I really, really enjoyed it.
Sadly, a member of our RCIA class died weeks before Easter. She was in her 30s and it was a shock. She had a heart attack. She was buried as a Catholic. It made the process bitter sweet. The death of the Pope after Easter was also a shock. We all wondered if Easter Vigil would have been put on hold if he had died a few weeks earlier. As a mature adult, I knew that wouldn’t have been the case, but we were like children at this point. We were a flock, following our shepherd.
Easter Vigil is the most moving of all services for me; the dark church, the candles, the new faithful. Never in my life have I experienced such an evening. To receive the host for the first time as a Catholic brings tears to my eyes.
It was a significant day and has shaped the rest of my life. I can think of nothing else that has had the impact becoming Catholic has on my life. Marriage, yes. Infertility, yes. Death, yes. But all of these come back to being Catholic in how I handle them, not the other way around. Being Catholic is first. My faith is first. It’s not something I could have planned or imagined or brought into being. It was Grace.
Catholic and child free; PMO
Well my search into Catholic, but child free didn't yield much. It could be I'm not the best at searching the Internet. All I could find was Purple Women & Friends.
This site isn't what I was looking for. As far as I can tell, it's Catholic women who support birth control use and we aren't talking NFP.
I was looking more for, "We've tried everything and now realize, although we'll be open to children until the day we die, we don't actually expect to conceive one. So what's next?" Couldn't find that group of women out there.
On a higher note, after two phone interviews, I have a face-to-face interview next Thursday. This job is perfect for me. It's a start up of a PMO. And unless you know what that is, you probably aren't thrilled! But if you do, you know it would be great fun to be involved in a start up. Especially since this is a Forbes top 50 company. I can't tell you how much I want this job. I'd work for free on it actually, just because it's going to be such an interesting project. I expect to learn a ton. And that's what I look for in a job, the learning experience. I hate to be bored.
So, I'll be reading about PMOs over the next week, get the hair cut, check the suit I plan on wearing, etc.
Wish me luck!
This site isn't what I was looking for. As far as I can tell, it's Catholic women who support birth control use and we aren't talking NFP.
I was looking more for, "We've tried everything and now realize, although we'll be open to children until the day we die, we don't actually expect to conceive one. So what's next?" Couldn't find that group of women out there.
On a higher note, after two phone interviews, I have a face-to-face interview next Thursday. This job is perfect for me. It's a start up of a PMO. And unless you know what that is, you probably aren't thrilled! But if you do, you know it would be great fun to be involved in a start up. Especially since this is a Forbes top 50 company. I can't tell you how much I want this job. I'd work for free on it actually, just because it's going to be such an interesting project. I expect to learn a ton. And that's what I look for in a job, the learning experience. I hate to be bored.
So, I'll be reading about PMOs over the next week, get the hair cut, check the suit I plan on wearing, etc.
Wish me luck!
June 20, 2007
I'm so happy for this family at Perfect Work.
The baby is so beautiful; the parents so blessed. It's hard for me to confess that even with my happiness for them, I feel sorry for myself.
Everything is a grace, everything is the direct effect of our father's love - difficulties, contradictions, humiliations, all the soul's miseries, her burdens, her needs - everything, because through them, she learns humility, realizes her weakness - Everything is a grace because everything is God's gift. Whatever be the character of life or its unexpected events - to the heart that loves, all is well.-St. Therese of Liseux.
This is a quote Perfect Work referenced in a recent post. It's a beautiful reflection on the gift of suffering. I suffer from infertility with little hope of resolution besides a miracle. I am having a hard time today (not always), in accepting this suffering as grace. Right now I'd take a baby over this "gift" in a heart-beat.
I wonder if I should start avoiding the blogs with resolved infertility and maybe search for blogs about moving past infertility and living child-free? I wonder how many Catholic blogs there are out there on this topic? I'll have to start checking and get back to you on what I find.
The baby is so beautiful; the parents so blessed. It's hard for me to confess that even with my happiness for them, I feel sorry for myself.
Everything is a grace, everything is the direct effect of our father's love - difficulties, contradictions, humiliations, all the soul's miseries, her burdens, her needs - everything, because through them, she learns humility, realizes her weakness - Everything is a grace because everything is God's gift. Whatever be the character of life or its unexpected events - to the heart that loves, all is well.-St. Therese of Liseux.
This is a quote Perfect Work referenced in a recent post. It's a beautiful reflection on the gift of suffering. I suffer from infertility with little hope of resolution besides a miracle. I am having a hard time today (not always), in accepting this suffering as grace. Right now I'd take a baby over this "gift" in a heart-beat.
I wonder if I should start avoiding the blogs with resolved infertility and maybe search for blogs about moving past infertility and living child-free? I wonder how many Catholic blogs there are out there on this topic? I'll have to start checking and get back to you on what I find.
June 10, 2007
Catholic Conversion, Part II
When it came time to get married, I planned a marriage in the United Methodist Church. My fiance thought it would be nice to have the priest from his childhood also present. When we called to talk to him about a collaboration, the priest said since I was active in my church and my fiance wasn't active in his, there really wasn't a reason for him to be present. He said if a time came when my fiance wanted to be more active in his faith, then we would have options to consider. I was satisfied with this and so was my fiance. My future mother-in-law was horrified.
After we were married I stayed active in the United Methodist Church. We lived on a family farm and after church on Sunday, I often came home to find my mother-in-law leaving for Mass. She always invited me along and I always went; after all, I loved Catholic Mass. My husband never went to Mass.
Two years found this marriage in a divorce (we never tried to have children and practiced effective birth control). Ten years later found me not attending any church and getting married again. I was marrying yet another non-practicing Catholic. This was a second marriage for both of us and we were married in a court-house.
Shortly after marriage, we moved to a town close to my paternal aunt. She and her family are devout Catholics and active in their faith and parish. My aunt invited us to a mission done by Father Claudio. This mission renewed my husband's faith. He spoke to my aunt and asked her if she thought I would consider becoming a Catholic. She was certain I would and encouraged him to ask. I have no idea why, in all the years before, I had never considered becoming a Catholic. When my husband asked, it seemed like in my heart and mind I already was Catholic and the answer was an easy yes.
On a side note; my aunt is a convert. She converted from United Methodist to Catholicism back when she got married. It was always a sore spot for my father. My father openly hated the Catholic Church. He knew I went to Mass with his sister and may have suspected I was more "involved" in the church than I directly indicated, but it was never discussed. I wouldn't have lied about my conversion, but I didn't want to face the argument if I could avoid it. My father died not knowing I ever converted. I believe that if it's possible, my priest prayed my father into Heaven. Mass, after mass was dedicated to my father by my priest; far more than I've ever seen dedicated to another soul. Regarless of the outcome, I'm thankful for his efforts.
So the question became, where to go to RCIA?
After we were married I stayed active in the United Methodist Church. We lived on a family farm and after church on Sunday, I often came home to find my mother-in-law leaving for Mass. She always invited me along and I always went; after all, I loved Catholic Mass. My husband never went to Mass.
Two years found this marriage in a divorce (we never tried to have children and practiced effective birth control). Ten years later found me not attending any church and getting married again. I was marrying yet another non-practicing Catholic. This was a second marriage for both of us and we were married in a court-house.
Shortly after marriage, we moved to a town close to my paternal aunt. She and her family are devout Catholics and active in their faith and parish. My aunt invited us to a mission done by Father Claudio. This mission renewed my husband's faith. He spoke to my aunt and asked her if she thought I would consider becoming a Catholic. She was certain I would and encouraged him to ask. I have no idea why, in all the years before, I had never considered becoming a Catholic. When my husband asked, it seemed like in my heart and mind I already was Catholic and the answer was an easy yes.
On a side note; my aunt is a convert. She converted from United Methodist to Catholicism back when she got married. It was always a sore spot for my father. My father openly hated the Catholic Church. He knew I went to Mass with his sister and may have suspected I was more "involved" in the church than I directly indicated, but it was never discussed. I wouldn't have lied about my conversion, but I didn't want to face the argument if I could avoid it. My father died not knowing I ever converted. I believe that if it's possible, my priest prayed my father into Heaven. Mass, after mass was dedicated to my father by my priest; far more than I've ever seen dedicated to another soul. Regarless of the outcome, I'm thankful for his efforts.
So the question became, where to go to RCIA?
June 4, 2007
Catholic Conversion, Part I
When I was about 11 years old, I decided I wanted to be a nun. This wouldn't be unusual if I had been raised Catholic, but I was raised United Methodist. There isn't a specific event I can point to that preceded my desire to be a nun. Today I believe it was an actual calling from God. I spent hours in prayer in my bedroom. I had a ceramic figurine my deceased paternal grandmother had made for me and I used it as an icon during my prayers. (Since my conversion, I've learned that my grandmother was born and raised Catholic and joined the United Methodist Church sometime after her first child took his first Communion.) My calling was so great, I told my mother about it. She didn't have any idea about what to do, so we had a meeting with my school guidance councilor. He put me in touch with an ex-nun who taught math at my school. I don't remember much of what she told me, except that there would be plenty of time for me to decide to be a nun and I should wait and see what happens. I can still remember the day, in tears, that I prayed to God and let him know I wasn't going to be able to be a nun after all. I asked His forgiveness and that was the end of that.
After middle school, I decided I wanted to attend our local private Catholic high school. I had friends who were going there and the public school I would have attended was going through race riots that scared me. So, now I had my exposure to actual nuns, but no calling. I liked the nuns, except I was learning a lot about the Catholic church I didn't like. I thought it was crazy to think the host became the body of Christ, when it was obvious to anyone, it didn't. I also heard a story about a couple who wanted to be married in the church and were told they couldn't, because he was in a wheel chair and the marriage could never be consummated. They were faithful Catholics, so they wouldn't live together without being married. I thought how terrible a church to have stupid rules that would keep this loving couple apart. Based on these two reasons, I not only decided that the Catholic church wasn't for me, but that I was in fact an atheist.
Now of course, being a teenager full of contradiction, I had some wonderful encounters with the Catholic faith. I was drawn to mass and able to attend, actually required to attend, at school. I was told by a priest that if I felt called to receive communion, I should even though I wasn't Catholic, (bless that man). I was allowed to go to confession even though I wasn't Catholic and enjoyed the experience. We had a chapel at our school and I spent some of my free time there in prayer. Many of the friends I made were Catholic. This set the stage for attending more masses with them when we weren't in school, which I did. I also met the Catholic man I would marry after graduating college.
After I graduated college, I moved home and became active in the United Methodist church of my youth. When it came time to get married ...
After middle school, I decided I wanted to attend our local private Catholic high school. I had friends who were going there and the public school I would have attended was going through race riots that scared me. So, now I had my exposure to actual nuns, but no calling. I liked the nuns, except I was learning a lot about the Catholic church I didn't like. I thought it was crazy to think the host became the body of Christ, when it was obvious to anyone, it didn't. I also heard a story about a couple who wanted to be married in the church and were told they couldn't, because he was in a wheel chair and the marriage could never be consummated. They were faithful Catholics, so they wouldn't live together without being married. I thought how terrible a church to have stupid rules that would keep this loving couple apart. Based on these two reasons, I not only decided that the Catholic church wasn't for me, but that I was in fact an atheist.
Now of course, being a teenager full of contradiction, I had some wonderful encounters with the Catholic faith. I was drawn to mass and able to attend, actually required to attend, at school. I was told by a priest that if I felt called to receive communion, I should even though I wasn't Catholic, (bless that man). I was allowed to go to confession even though I wasn't Catholic and enjoyed the experience. We had a chapel at our school and I spent some of my free time there in prayer. Many of the friends I made were Catholic. This set the stage for attending more masses with them when we weren't in school, which I did. I also met the Catholic man I would marry after graduating college.
After I graduated college, I moved home and became active in the United Methodist church of my youth. When it came time to get married ...
June 3, 2007
Temptation
At one point in our journey with infertility, we went to an infertility clinic. We had various tests run, etc., and are still on the clinic mailing list.
I just learned, for a little over $22k, I can participate in a "shared risk" egg donation program! How exciting is that?!? For this money, I can do up to six complete egg donation cycles (including cryopreservation and transfer from these cycles). If I don't have a live birth after all of this, I get my money back. If I do have a live birth, I pay the fee.
It's a deal! It's cheaper than adoption with the bonus that I get to experience pregnancy and birth (yes, I consider that a bonus). Plus, since they'll use my husband's sperm, at least the child will be "part" of us. Maybe I'd even be blessed to carry twins. If after the initial embryo transfer there are ones left over to freeze, I can then transfer those and hope to have a second or even third child.
It's so tempting. I read it and I think, I can do this. It could happen. I could be a mom. We don't even have to tell anyone the egg wasn't mine. We would love this child. Everyone would love this child. God would bless this child.
I have to say, if it wasn't for my faith, I would be on this band wagon. I would be heading up the parade. I would want a child more than I would think about the consequences.
But not today. Today, I know it's not for me. It's not what the God of my understanding teaches. Obviously, that's not every one's God, but it is mine. I consider it a blessing to have gotten to this point of understanding. I'm amazed by how others view God's will, as this woman has indicated. I wouldn't consider what she's been through to be God's will. I would consider, possibly, that God's will was for her not to have a second child given all the obstacles she faced.
It's not for me to judge. After all, I too am tempted.
I just learned, for a little over $22k, I can participate in a "shared risk" egg donation program! How exciting is that?!? For this money, I can do up to six complete egg donation cycles (including cryopreservation and transfer from these cycles). If I don't have a live birth after all of this, I get my money back. If I do have a live birth, I pay the fee.
It's a deal! It's cheaper than adoption with the bonus that I get to experience pregnancy and birth (yes, I consider that a bonus). Plus, since they'll use my husband's sperm, at least the child will be "part" of us. Maybe I'd even be blessed to carry twins. If after the initial embryo transfer there are ones left over to freeze, I can then transfer those and hope to have a second or even third child.
It's so tempting. I read it and I think, I can do this. It could happen. I could be a mom. We don't even have to tell anyone the egg wasn't mine. We would love this child. Everyone would love this child. God would bless this child.
I have to say, if it wasn't for my faith, I would be on this band wagon. I would be heading up the parade. I would want a child more than I would think about the consequences.
But not today. Today, I know it's not for me. It's not what the God of my understanding teaches. Obviously, that's not every one's God, but it is mine. I consider it a blessing to have gotten to this point of understanding. I'm amazed by how others view God's will, as this woman has indicated. I wouldn't consider what she's been through to be God's will. I would consider, possibly, that God's will was for her not to have a second child given all the obstacles she faced.
It's not for me to judge. After all, I too am tempted.
June 1, 2007
Sitting on the dock of the bay
I’m taking a few days to visit our little cabin on the bay in ESVA. This an actual photo of the sunset as it often looks at the end of the day at our cabin.
Husband is at home working. It’s not lost on me what a privileged life I have. And to think I want to go back to work! Silly me :)
When I say the cabin is little, I mean 18X20. Glorified camping is how my cousin describes it. The cabin was my father’s and before that my Grandmother’s. I took my first steps in this cabin. One of my cousin’s children took her first steps here too. Lifetimes of family memories contained in one small space.
My uncle has a place here, my aunt has two places; one is used by my cousin and her family. It’s unique. It’s special. It’s one of the most beautiful places I know. It’s quiet. It has unending views of the bay. I’m friends with my neighbor, her mother was a friend of my mother and her grandmother was a friend of my grandmother.
And believe it or not, infertility follows me even to this beautiful place. It’s never far away. See, my children won’t ever be here. My children won’t be friends with my cousin’s kids. I won’t be old and watch my grandkids jump off the same dock I did. My saving grace is found in having nephews. They don’t get here often, but boy do I love it when the do! The oldest seems to have the same attachment to this place as I do. I’ve also developed a strong relationship with my cousin’s daughters. It’s never the same as having your own, but it does lighten the pain a bit. In fact it adds a pleasure I wouldn’t have known if I had children of my own. My cabin is sometimes the choice to hang out at. No parents you see. Four kids and a deck of cards looking for a parent free zone to play in; lot’s of soda and candy at Cousin Becky’s. And the parents know the kids are safe. Works well for all!
Got to find the blessings where one can.
When I say the cabin is little, I mean 18X20. Glorified camping is how my cousin describes it. The cabin was my father’s and before that my Grandmother’s. I took my first steps in this cabin. One of my cousin’s children took her first steps here too. Lifetimes of family memories contained in one small space.
My uncle has a place here, my aunt has two places; one is used by my cousin and her family. It’s unique. It’s special. It’s one of the most beautiful places I know. It’s quiet. It has unending views of the bay. I’m friends with my neighbor, her mother was a friend of my mother and her grandmother was a friend of my grandmother.
And believe it or not, infertility follows me even to this beautiful place. It’s never far away. See, my children won’t ever be here. My children won’t be friends with my cousin’s kids. I won’t be old and watch my grandkids jump off the same dock I did. My saving grace is found in having nephews. They don’t get here often, but boy do I love it when the do! The oldest seems to have the same attachment to this place as I do. I’ve also developed a strong relationship with my cousin’s daughters. It’s never the same as having your own, but it does lighten the pain a bit. In fact it adds a pleasure I wouldn’t have known if I had children of my own. My cabin is sometimes the choice to hang out at. No parents you see. Four kids and a deck of cards looking for a parent free zone to play in; lot’s of soda and candy at Cousin Becky’s. And the parents know the kids are safe. Works well for all!
Got to find the blessings where one can.
May 29, 2007
What's in a name
I wanted the name for my blog to reflect scripture. I loved the blogs I read that had incorporated scripture this way, Perfect Work and Light and Momentary. So I looked for what would fit for me. I always wanted to own a farm and call it "Hallowed Hills", but this blog name was already taken. I tried a few others and they were also taken.
So, when I was at mass on Saturday, I picked up a pamphlet on infertility. In it, the author in conclusion, used the scripture Ecclesiastes 4:12, and it fit. The three-fold cord; God, my husband and myself. Stronger than the pain of infertility. Stronger than a two-fold cord; husband and myself, God and myself, husband and God.
It's through marriage and having God in our marriage that I find strength. And, surprise, it works for all things, not just infertility. In many ways, it's my biggest gift, my own personal three-fold cord. I can't express the security it brings.
I love it.
"Though one might prevail against another, two will withstand one. A three-fold cord is not quickly broken" (Ecclesiastes 4:12)
So, when I was at mass on Saturday, I picked up a pamphlet on infertility. In it, the author in conclusion, used the scripture Ecclesiastes 4:12, and it fit. The three-fold cord; God, my husband and myself. Stronger than the pain of infertility. Stronger than a two-fold cord; husband and myself, God and myself, husband and God.
It's through marriage and having God in our marriage that I find strength. And, surprise, it works for all things, not just infertility. In many ways, it's my biggest gift, my own personal three-fold cord. I can't express the security it brings.
I love it.
"Though one might prevail against another, two will withstand one. A three-fold cord is not quickly broken" (Ecclesiastes 4:12)
May 28, 2007
My new blog
I've been reading other blogs for over a year now and have decided I would like to have my own. I'm nervous about this and not sure what to expect. I'm not even sure what my blog will be about, but I figure it will center around a few things. I'm Catholic, I'm married, I suffer with infertility and I love children. There is enough in those four topics to keep me posting for a bit. So welcome. I should warn you now, I can't spell to save my life!
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