…even though it’s not…yet…Holy Week.

Tagged by SFO Mom.

Lent is almost over and this Sunday is Palm Sunday already! I thought it would be fun to share what we do special to commemorate the Passion and Resurrection of Our Lord.

1. What do you do with your new blessed palm from Palm Sunday? It goes behind the crucifix on our dining room wall. If we have more than one, I’ll put them behind other crucifixes or our big icon from Kosovo (known to Bill and I as THE Icon).

2. What do you do with your old one from last year? I burn it and put the ashes in my garden.

3. What do you do during Holy Week in preparation for Good Friday? Spring cleaning to rival that of any kosher Jew, watch The Passion of the Christ, have a special Holy Thursday dinner with lamb, matzohs, and sparkling grape juice, put purple cloths over the icons and crosses, night prayer vigil until midnight.

4. How do you commemorate Christ’s Passion on Good Friday? No TV or computer, Stations of the Cross at noon stopping after the 11th station and completing them at 3 pm, strict fast (bread and water).

5. When do you color Easter eggs? Holy Saturday afternoon. I let Bill do most of the work with the kids. We’ve done pysanki in the past – I love it. But our kit is buried and I’m not digging it out due to our impeding move. Maybe next year.

6. When do you buy Easter candy? Sometime when I don’t have the kids in tow. I guess I’ll try to do it this weekend.

7. What is the first thing you plan to do Easter morning? Wake up! Then eat some candy for breakfast before going to Mass (I’ll be sure to wait an hour!). This year, I offered to provide some food for the people who have to work at my husband’s office on Easter Sunday, so we have to run that up right after Mass. And then we’ll have a buffet spread at my house with Bill’s parents and siblings and two families whose head-of-house is deployed and any other bachelors (geo- or otherwise) that Bill knows.

Tag, You’re It!

Amy at Raising Angels
Maureen at Trinity Prep School
Michelle at Running Commentary (once a Catholic, always a Catholic!)

and I’d really like to know what Satan‘s plans are.

I freely admit I’m doing the easy stuff first.

A homily from the Gospel of Judas:

It’s ok that Judas betrayed Jesus, because he was helping in God’s plan for salvation.

And all my sins, past and present, are ok, because they brought me to where I am today and made me who I am, who I need to be, to fulfill God’s plan for me.

And all your sins, even the ones that hurt me, are ok, because you’re just fulfilling God’s plan for you.

In fact, you really don’t have any control over your life at all. Just do whatever, because God will manipulate whatever you do to fit His divine purposes.

Reality check: this makes no sense.

I spent years trying to prove Catholicism was WRONG. Once I started to test to see if it was RIGHT, I couldn’t get it to flunk. Of course, you have to follow an argument logically – you can’t jump into the middle of an issue like capital punishment and expect to find understanding. You could begin with capital punishment, but you’d have to work the logic backwards. It would take some time and patience. Or I suppose you could just read Thomas Aquinas who did much of that footwork for us.

But back to the Gospel of Judas. From a personal standpoint, everything sounds great. It’s OK if I commit adultery. God must have wanted me to have a relationship with this person or He wouldn’t have put him in my life. It’s OK if YOU commit adultery. It’s none of my business. But…is it OK if my husband commits adultery? If my marriage is the victim, could I be so happy to let God’s will be done? Of course not.

So, out goes Judas’ Gospel. It doesn’t make sense…not in a baffling God’s-mysterious-ways kind of way, but in a practical, everyday sort of way. “Treat others the way you want to be treated” – that works. “It’s OK to sin because it’s God’s will” – that doesn’t.

Yesterday I wished for the Army uniform in other colors. My husband informed me that I could get it here. Unfortunately, it’s the old-style uniform, and I think the new style is better. I’m considering the shorts, though. The pockets aren’t big enough for diapers, but they could hold just about everything else. Like I need to make my hips look wider…

…I didn’t see any sippy cups with carabiner clips, but I also got pretty bored looking at pages and pages of gear: camo face paint kits, bayonets, firestarters! This is not a website for boys between the ages of 10 and 15. Maybe I’ll get some tried and true canteens and hook them on. Bill has a Camelbak, but the kids with the crumb-filled mouths will likely gunk up the tubing.

Recently, Bill has been filling out a form to apply for a higher security clearance. You have to include the names, addresses and phone numbers of dozens of people: neighbors, friends, relatives. They want to know every address going back quite a number of years. They want to know people who knew you when you lived there. It’s insane.

Bill is helped by having filled it out several years ago and having kept that last form. So the names and addresses of neighbors from that house or this apartment are already done.

This afternoon, a man rang the doorbell. He presented an ID and asked if he could ask some questions about a neighbor. I guess our neighbor filled out a similar form for something – security clearance or a certain job or whatever. I don’t know if he used our name specifically, or if the man just drove to our neighborhood and looked for somebody who was home.

Have I ever seen him intoxicated?
Do I know if he drinks?
Uses drugs?

Does he live within his means?
Have foreign connections?
Is he married?
Is his wife American?

Has he ever tried to overthrow the government (we BOTH laughed at that question)?

What kind of reputation does he have?
Do I know of anyone trying to blackmail him?

I found it all pretty amusing, especially when I thought of someone being asked those questions of my husband.

So, folks, this is what people go through to get the top jobs, to get the top secrets. It’s kind of hard to get to the top in the government as a spy…it happens, I know. But this is the kind of scrutiny that’s given. Interesting.

I’m not getting any work done…but I’m getting organized. Doesn’t that count a little?

The daily ritual.

Billy: MOM, MOM, MOM, I can’t get a bowl down!!!!!!!!!!!

Me: What would you like me to do?

Billy: Get me a bowl.

Me: (intent staring)

Billy: Please.

Me: Please, what?

Billy: Please get me a bowl down.

Me: Sure, honey. Here you go.

Billy: I want Coco Puffs.

Me: (intently staring)

Billy: Please.

Me: Please, what?

Billy: Please can I have Coco Puffs?

Me: Sure!

Billy: Ugh, I always forget those words!

Me: That’s why I always remind you. Ugh to you!

God has given Bill and I a really big issue to deal with this Lent.

We had a LOT of money stolen from us. By a friend.

I won’t go into details, but it’s a high enough amount that our ability to pay our bills has been affected. It really stinks.

The issue is not what to do. I guess there might be some debate about what legal action to take. I’ve been arguing that legal action will only waste more of our money. A judge will rule in our favor, but it’s not like there’s money in the bank, you know? It’s not like the person has a brand-new BMW that we could put a lien on.

The real issue is how to deal with the anger.

Bill wrote an email which vented his anger. It said all the nasty things and called all the nasty names that he could think of. He didn’t send it, of course. (My outgoing email problem has not been resolved – still…talk about needing a class on anger management!!!…but it’s good, because he just might have, oops, sent it). He actually had to get up and walk away from the email, though, because he recognized it for what it was – just plain nastiness.

I think he felt better though getting his feelings expressed, even if it was just to me and to God. He told me, “I feel like I got punched in the jaw.” I said, “You got slapped on the cheek.” But we agree, turning and offering the other cheek – which to me means getting over the anger – is so very hard.

We want satisfaction, retribution, justice. Most of our anger stems from not being able to attain that. Forgiveness is so much easier when wrongs can be righted. Repay the debt, and you’ll be forgiven. Pay for the damage, return the stolen property, say I’m sorry…and then we can be friends again.

But here I have to forgive someone who can’t fix it. And that, more than any rosaries or fasts or tithes, is Lent, practically applied.

The top of our microwave is our “readiness center”. It’s key storage, cell phone storage (and power station), need-to-take-with-me-tomorrow storage. Occasionally other things get dumped there too, but I try to keep it tidy and uncluttered so you can find the important stuff.

Last night Bill was trying to find room for all his electronic gadgets, some of which needed to be charged. It was frustrating for him. I would have helped, but I was trying to slice fruit for breakfast.

Unhelpful Wife: “You have too many gadgets.”

Unhappy Husband: “I have exactly how many gadgets I need for my job!”

Well, he has one extra gadget than his day-job requires…but I want him to have it for me: his cell phone. I do like to be able to reach him, especially to find out if he’ll be home in time to take a child to some activity!

Being a general’s assistant executive officer requires him to have a Blackberry and a cell phone (in case the Blackberry doesn’t have coverage – a bit of overkill, I think). And since he is required to pay for all personal calls made or received on his work cell phone, he has his own (he already had it anyway, so no change there).

It’s a good thing those uniforms have so many pockets. In fact, if they made those shirts in a lighter fabric in a nice blue color, I might get one. And the pockets on the pants are definitely big enough for a diaper and a small pack of baby wipes. Then I would just need to find sippy cups with carabiner clips to hook on my belt loops and I’d be free from toting a diaper bag around. This would allow me to chase wayward children who wander into parking lots.

Technologically speaking, I’m a bit slow on what the different things do nowadays. (Boy, do I sound old or what?) Seriously, I can’t tell you the difference between an MP3 and a CD. I really don’t know why anyone would want to take photos with their cell phone (a digital camera is much better). And I don’t feel the need to receive (or send) text messages while I’m at the grocery store.

But I do like the Blackberry. And so does Bill. He gets stuck outside meetings all the time waiting for his boss. And while he waits, he goes through his email (most of which is work related) and he does his job. But he can also get my notes, and links to amusing articles I send to him. He doesn’t always have the time to read them or respond to them, but it’s nice having that open line.

Here’s a nice posting on being a real man, not a guy:

Finally, as a great writer once said, “If my father was the head of the house, my mother was its heart.” A man isn’t the soft comforting lap the kids sit on to be rocked to sleep, or the kiss that makes owwies all better. He may be called on to do those things sometimes, but he’s not really constructed for it. A man is the solidity in his family, the rock that can’t be broken. He’s also the wall that shields them from storms, and the roof that keeps their heads dry. Which usually means getting rained on or wind-beaten himself. If you don’t do that, a woman has to, and it’s something they’re not constructed for.

And I offer a cheer to my husband, who isn’t perfect, but whose imperfection generally stems from not being womanly enough…and that’s ok!