Space.

I do my best thinking in the shower and while brushing my teeth. When I was working full-time I'm sure my boss figured this out quickly, as I'd often waltz into her office first thing with a revelation saying, "I thought of something while brushing my teeth this morning!" Now, as the understatement of the week, I'll just tell you I'm a reflector. Even when I'm not in the process of cleaning myself in some way I tend to think (and overthink) about what I said and what they said and what it all meant and how this moment fits into the larger context of life and purpose and where am I going and where have I been and what are my goals and how will I get there and...and...and...

Recently, while thinking about thinking, (which is actually called metacognition, so there's your word of the day. Our number of the day can be 8 for no reason whatsoever.) I wondered why these bathroom activities allowed for the most focused, productive thinking. Why was it that I came up with the best topics to write about, the clearest answers to prayers, and the most innovative solutions to problems while I shampooed my hair? The answer, I realized, was space.

I was once told that we can hear God's voice when we're not thinking about anything else.  It is in these moments that we have the space to think, to consider; we're not thinking through to-do lists, our thoughts relatively blank, no distractions. Unless you count rinsing the shampoo out of my hair, that is. We must allow ourselves space to listen and ponder and wonder.

I'm not so good at building this space into my life, especially lately. There are many times throughout the day when I pick up my phone as though I'm bored with nothing else to do. Truly, though, all my smart phone does is distract me from my own thoughts. I even found myself checking instagram at a red light! When did I become so impatient...so removed from my own thoughts that I cannot sit at a red light without wanting to be entertained? And when did anything on instagram become so important...?

And then Lent began: a season of fasting, of working hard on my own impurities so that my heart is prepared for the Lord, of embracing suffering as a path to holiness, of praying more and giving more and needing less.

This year I'm intentionally making more space to pray and reflect and just be. Together Brandon and I will retreat to our bedroom by 9pm each night in an effort to treat our bodies better by getting more sleep and allowing for time to wind down from the day. We will cease using our smartphones at this time and read for at least 10 minutes, taking time away from technology and the distractions smartphones bring with them. We've always prayed together at the end of each day, but we will be adding an Act of Contrition to our normal routine. We hope that setting a time which is earlier than usual to start getting ready for bed will allow us to put more effort and thoughtfulness into our prayer, which sometimes had become a zombie prayer of sorts as we both struggled to stay awake.

I'm also creating space of less distractions during the day by not using my phone (for things other than phone calls and text messages) until 9 in the morning. Reading blogs and scrolling through facebook became my go-to in the morning, but I believe I can be more present to Silas or choose to do some spiritual reading during this precious morning time instead. I plan to leave my phone in the kitchen throughout the day as well so I'm not tempted to be on it as a distraction, and instead have to go get it if I need it for something.

Finally, we've decided that we will be attending adoration at least once per week during Lent. Perpetual Adoration is only 3 blocks from our home, so really we should be making it over there much more often that we do. What better space to pray and collect my thoughts and reflect on His holy sacrifice than right in his presence?

I'm certain I will be tempted to break the promises I've made this Lent...what's that they say about old habits dying hard? But I'm hoping that the extra space in my life will quickly become filled with prayer and reflection and peace. And being fully engrossed in how the current moment is being lived for God.

And with that, I'm off to our bedroom like Cinderella at midnight 'cause it's almost 9 o'clock!

Happy Ashy Wednesday

First let me start out by acknowledging how long it's been since I've blogged.  

Alright, now that we have that behind us....

Since about two months into pregnancy, I have been grateful that Lent would fall within the nine months I happen to be carrying our first child.  While I absolutely love the incredible feeling of baby moving inside of me, and while I am overjoyed at the fact that such a miraculous feat such as housing a human was gifted to me, pregnancy hasn't always been the sweetest walk in the park.  

What has been extraordinary is the way the Holy Spirit has been using the various sufferings of pregnancy to bring me closer to God.  I have found myself praying my way through times when I was rather uncomfortable physically, asking Jesus to unite my suffering, minuscule in comparison, to His own.  Suffering is never for naught (why is this so easy to forget?), and in this case there's a baby at the end of this journey!  

Lent allows us to take time to recalculate where we are in our relationship with God, a time where we are encouraged to intentionally focus on prayer, fasting, and generosity--3 pillars we are called to every single day of our lives and that will help lead us closer to the Lord.  It's beautiful that there is an entire liturgical season dedicated to helping us refocus on what is important.  We are so human, aren't we?  Although just one year ago I had 40 whole days of Lent to reflect on my life, I ended up slipping back into some old habits and became aware of things in my life leading me away from God.  But here we are upon Lent once again, and these weeks of "accountability" are so helpful to me in my faith journey!

This year, the 40 days of Lent are within the last 58 days (give or take) of this pregnancy.  What better time to offer up the achey-ness in my back, headaches, cramps during the night in the back of my knees (seriously, has this ever happened to anyone else?!), sore neck, not being able to drink cabernet, numb hands, ribs being kicked, waddle-walking, swollen ankles...whoops...

So, you see, it's pretty dang easy to hop on the "complain-train" and think that a human growing inside of me also entitles me to gripe about my body.  Yes, it's very obvious to me how much of a blessing it is that Lent coincides with these last two months before we meet our precious babe. Such a blessing that I am intentionally reminded by the church what living like a Christian should look like.  Hopefully I'm able to continue to strengthen my trust in the Lord, lay my anxieties at His feet, and offer up the sacrifice of my body to Him, because only God can satisfy my deepest desires and hungers.

Alleluia!

Happy Easter, He is risen!

This Holy Week has been reflective and moving for me, and I am so grateful for the awe, wonder, and humility which has been placed on my heart.  Jesus as my Savior is the only thing I can boast in, although a sinner in every sense of the word, I am on a path to holiness because He wills it.  Our Lord is the one who gives me the abilities and talents I possess and I must think, act, speak, and pray for the goodness of His glory on earth.

Alleluia, Alleluia!  

During lent my husband I were driving home from his parents farm and I felt moved to sing Hallelujah by Bethany Dillon.  He reminded me that per Catholic tradition, I shouldn't say Hallelujah during lent.  This made me frustrated, because I was just praising God!  Really, though, that's what Lent is all about, isn't it?  A time for us to remember what Jesus sacrificed for us, a time where you recognize the uncomfortable parts of being a Christian, and reflect on why it is so worthy to bask in frustration and sacrifice for the good of becoming closer to God.

Being able to sing Hallelujah on this blessed Easter day allows me to truly feel God's joy and saving grace throughout my entire being.

In joy,

Danielle