My Beamish Brood

My Beamish Brood

Saturday, March 26, 2016

On Holy Saturday

These holiest days of the liturgical year have taken on somewhat of a stressful undertone for me for the past few years. I am constantly worried about whether I am doing enough to instill in my children a love for their Catholic faith, a respect for traditions, a desire to grow in holiness. We have many traditions that we return to year after year, ones that our children have come to expect and joyfully anticipate. We attend soup supper and Stations of the Cross every Friday throughout Lent, culminating in a visit to a neighboring church on Good Friday for the Living Stations. We make a crown of thorns out of salt dough and toothpicks each year, and when all of the toothpicks have been removed (through acts of love and sacrifice by the kids), we spray paint the crown gold and glue on jewels for Easter. For two years now, we have done a simple version of a Seder meal to give the kids an idea of what the Last Supper might have actually looked like. And yet, I always worry that it's falling flat. There is so much richness and we are barely scratching the surface.

But tonight, everything came into focus, even if just for a moment. We had spent the evening decorating our crown and our prayer corner for Easter, and we had sent the kids to bed before praying the second day of the Divine Mercy Novena. Of course, with Easter tomorrow, the boys were absolutely nowhere near ready to fall asleep. Partway into the second decade, I glanced up and saw one little boy creeping down the stairs. When he saw my smile, he dove for the couch and joined right in. His brother was close behind, and also waited for my go-ahead before snuggling in between his mom and dad. We didn't skip a beat as the boys joined in for the remainder of the Chaplet. When we were finished, we said goodnight again and they went back upstairs.

I am so thankful to have been given a small reprieve from my worries as a mother. In that moment, I saw so clearly that what we do is sinking in. They are taking to heart what we are teaching them. But maybe the most important realization I had was the importance of leading by example. I'm convinced that finding their parents praying together after bedtime is worth more to my children than all of the activities I could possibly plan for them. If I never make another liturgical year themed craft with my children again but they catch me praying regularly, I will have nothing to worry about. If I can show my children love and compassion rather than constantly reminding them how they should be treating one another, I'm on the right path as a mother.

On this Holy Saturday, I will rest in the hope of the resurrection, and in the joy of knowing my children are doing the same.

Our prayer corner decorated for Easter

1 comment:

  1. Beautiful! I got teary reading this post. Thank you for sharing!