spring in mt maunganui

We've been busy, busy, busy.... just a brief overview here complete with a few photos. Last term ended in a whirlwind of retreats and trips, leaving us all a little breathless and exhausted. We had two weeks to recover before plunging in to the final term of the school year before Christmas/summer break. Rich and I took the kids to visit friends over in Raglan. Raglan is one of the surfing capitals of the world and features indescribable waves crashing against sheer cliffs and black sand beaches. We took in the sights while staying with our friends on their picturesque little farm. The view from their front door is below. Their endearingly friendly kid (more puppy than goat) is above. 

We came back in time to host a world-class rugby world cup party. About 40 people crammed into our living room to watch the All Blacks beat France. Nearly all viewers had their faces painted for the festivities, including the Americans present. 

Then term four began. Our theme for the youth groups is "Five Phrases That Will Change Your Life". We're building talks around mantras, mottos and Scripture that can give grace in the midst of myriad challenges. Some examples incluse "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me!" and "Jesus, I trust in You!" and "Be not afraid!"  Girls group is studying "pathways to God" - taking intense looks at the spiritualities of various saints. We've studied the little path of love of St Therese and Mother Teresa, who advocated serving God by doing small things with great love. We've trodden the peaceful path of trust of de Caussade, who recommended a simple self-abandonment to divine Providence in all things. We'll be exploring quite a few more paths over the coming weeks and will probably blog more about this fascinating topic. Rich and Glen are leading the boys this term on The Royal Road of the Cross, discussing the virtues of sacrifice and manly altruism. We've also celebrated the feast of All Hallow's Eve with the youth by organizing a saint-costume themed progressive dinner.

christine and I painted 16 nearly identical paintings 

to distribute to each membre of girls group

Our wonderful angel Christine has been accepted to NET and will be heading to Australia in early January. She'll be volunteering in youth ministry there for a year. [Rich's poor parents must be pretty sick of this side of the globe sucking all their family members away.....] We're all really really REALLY excited for her - and very sorry for ourselves. We'd love prayers (stat!) for another awesome woman to take her place for the young girls here in New Zealand. 

Lastly, in response to the many thoughtful queries about Joseph - he's doing fantastic! He's looking great,  happy, healthy - a wonderful miracle in the flesh! He's discovered how to sit and how to bear weight on all fours. He has been appalled at how much his three new teeth have hurt and is not pleased to have three more coming through. On the other hand, he is delighted to discover there is such a thing as ice cream in the world.  We offer him a taste of sheer bliss a few times a week to help him put on some pounds and he couldn't be more grateful. He wants to write a whole blog thanking Uncle Dave for offering that piece of medical advice! Today at his monthly hospital check-in he'd finally inched up above the 2nd percentile line and now holds a proud space halfway between the 2nd and 9th percentile. Way to go, Joseph! His liver functions took a small turn for the worse this month for the first time in a while, so please pray that ice cream therapy might turn out to be as beneficial to his organs as it has been for his weight.

thanks uncle dave!!!!!!!!!

servants of dignity

I do not like TV. I 've not owned a television set for over a decade and I could not name even five popular shows that air regularly on television - in either country. But I've discovered Downton Abbey. A DVD compilation of the entire first season was loaned to me last week and I've already watched the whole thing. I don't know what will happen in subsequent seasons, but in the seven episodes I have watched I've been astonished at the morality of the whole thing. Not just the absence of filthy words and suggestive scenes, but the beautiful emphasis on virtue and goodness. I do very occasionally see a show that is "totally clean". Slightly more often I see a movie that "has a really good message". Downton Abbey goes beyond that and approaches the moral caliber of a Jane Austen novel. There are characters of commanding virtue and goodness, characters who show impeccable integrity and heroic honor in myriad situations, large and small. There are also a few truly vile characters who do horribly vile things, but evil is clearly shown to be evil - even in moral areas where we are accustomed to evil being justified or even celebrated or made a bit fuzzy. I have only seen the first season so I do not vouch for anything beyond that. Naturally I hope that this moral excellence continues on throughout the series. From what I have seen so far, Downton Abbey is pro-life! Even Jane Austen's novels are not pro-life. Then again, Austen was not writing for a culture that needed to have the dignity of the unborn child clarified. Julian Fellowes is. Incidentally, the series is outselling any other television drama of all time. People like old fashioned morality and modest gowns better than they liked The Sopranos. What does that say?

In the last episode of the season, the most vile character speaks disparagingly about the unborn child of one of the female characters. The more virtuous characters demand that he show respect for the dignity of the child. He sneers,"at that stage they're no bigger than hamsters". It is quite clear that he also means that they are no better than hamsters and no more valuable. Seconds later, after a few more nasty comments, he gets punched in the face. You can't help but feel that it's long overdue.

Another scene earlier in the episode had me thinking along these lines as well. When the child's existence is discovered, his parents are both quite surprised. The husband is especially stunned and his wife feels compelled to ask him if he is happy about the baby. Her vulnerability as she asks is striking. Everything hangs in the balance for her. (She lives in the early 1900's, so by "everything" I do not mean that the child's life itself depends upon this man's preference.) If he said that he was not happy, a huge and heavy cloud waited to envelope her. Her natural inclination was to joy, but he could undermine that maternal joy by his emotional rejection of the child. Her heart instinctively bent to accept and embrace and celebrate this new life, but it was in his power to either support her maternal inclinations or to deeply damage them. That's not just a well-written or well-acted scenario. That is the history of women in every time and culture.

Within 24 hours, I saw this history playing out in real life. While visiting a friend today, I heard a neighbor screaming. My hostess's face clouded. She told me the painful story of the family next door. A solo mom of two little girls, aged 3 and 1. Different men drifting in and out of the house at all hours. Daily outbursts of venomous, hateful words shouted at the toddlers - "You little (insert vulgar cuss words)!" My friend ventured over one day to introduce herself. The neighbor did not tell the names of the little girls; she only waved in their direction with disgust and introduced them as "proof that IUDs don't work".  I feel sad for these little girls. One stood in her driveway staring at me as I left. I waved to her. I thought about her the whole drive home and for the rest of the day. But I also feel sad for her mom. I'm sure that when she asked the fathers of these two girls if they were happy about her pregnancies they were not. She probably didn't even have to ask. What she is doing now is very, very hard and she is doing it all alone. She's doing one of the hardest things in the world and she's doing it under extremely difficult circumstances. And there are thousands and thousands of other women just like her. Her children live a life that is becoming increasingly "normal".  I would guess that those two little girls do not experience a lot of consistent warmth, affection, stability or selfless love. I don't think they know much peace.

This is the face of the contraceptive culture. Contraception has made this kind of unhappiness so common in our modern world. It didn't invent a new problem, but it has multiplied a very very old problem to staggering proportions. Some would say it would be better had these little girls been aborted rather than live with the abuse and neglect that defines their days and shapes their young souls. I looked that beautiful little girl in the eyes today and I don't believe that. Others will say that the answer to these situations is more and better contraception. The mother of these little girls has already stated that contraception is a lie.

I'm not writing this evening in attempt to judge, just painfully wishing for an answer. What more can the pro-life movement do? This mother did not abort the babies that her boyfriends rejected. I don't know why or how but she found the strength to endure pregnancy, childbirth and active motherhood. But she's in way over her head now and she is killing the innocence and joy of the two little lives in her care. I bet she feels that somewhere too - and that it feels really bad. She hurts them out of her own hurt, and then has even more hurt to deal with. This woman needs the pro-life movement to embrace her and support her and help her. I can't stop feeling that after the baby is born, clothed and equipped for the first few months, we pro-lifers sort of feel that the job is done - when it's actually just begun.

John Cardinal O'Connor had a vision of an order of nuns who would pray and minister to unborn babies and their mothers. His vision became a reality and the Sisters of Life are one of the most beautiful group of women imaginable. I have a vision of an order of nuns who would minister to these women and their babies after the births - for years and years and years. It's a bit ridiculous for a married woman with three children to yearn to start a new order of nuns, so I never told anyone about this embarrassing scheme. But there are others out there who are in circumstances where the Lord could use them to build this vision into reality. The Lord gave me the name Servants of Dignity. (Maybe another order already has this name. No, a quick Google search revealed nothing). The mission: to serve and protect the dignity of children and families in difficult circumstances. The Sisters of Life open their convents to pregnant women in difficult circumstances who need a supportive place to live. The Servants of Dignity would open their convents to children in difficult circumstances who need a nurturing place to be. Not exactly an orphanage (although there could be some short-term overnight accommodation if needed), this ministry would be more like providing an alternative to daycare. The charism would involve providing a loving and wholesome environment where the child's dignity and worth would be affirmed, where the child would experience stability, affection and loving discipline. I imagine a Montessori-like atmosphere of peace and order. I imagine the recently departed spirit of Sofia Cavalletti imbuing the daily rhythms. I imagine a soft, simple habit that allows ease of movement for active engagement with children. I imagine practical support being offered to parents and great efforts made in helping the parents come to realize their own dignity. And I imagine tons and tons and tons of prayer. I see the sisters spending hours in Adoration and prayer, interceding for families.

Obviously this post has nothing whatsoever to do with our mission in New Zealand. This will undoubtedly be one of the posts that I infinitely regret writing tomorrow. Blame it on Peter Kreeft. I read his How to Win the Culture War yesterday and perhaps caught a bit of his recklessness. Ah well, I could use a pinch of recklessness from time to time. Thirty-third birthdays do that to me.

the (other) emerald isle

Katrina's cupcakes celebrating girl's group

It's exciting times here in New Zealand. School's out on a brief holiday. The Rugby World Cup finals are being played in Auckland as I type. The region is astir over the Rena fiasco & cleanup. The girls group went ice skating for the first time. And Richard and I are letting our imaginations run wild pondering the future. 

Christine and I took the girl's group up to Auckland on Monday. Joseph Pio and Maria accompanied us while Bernadette stayed home to keep an eye on Rich. Our ambitions for the trip were boundless: Auckland Cathedral, ice cream, ice skating, Missionaries of Charity, One Tree Hill (of U2 fame), art galleries, the Victoria Street market and an overnight at the Tyburn complete with Bananagrams. We had wet-weather plans and dry-weather plans. We had altogether too many plans. 

After a slow, rainy drive up to Auckland and a beautiful sunny visit to the Cathedral, we only managed to squeeze in 90 minutes of ice skating before racing off to arrive at the Tyburn for dinner. Most of the girls had never skated before, including Maria. The older girls gave it a cheerful try and delighted in their falls. Maria beamed as I laced up her ice skates - but simply walking in them was impossible for her and she refused to even attempt to skate in them. Thank you so much to the very kind man who refunded her entry fee. Then off to another Tyburn.

chapel at the Bombay Tyburn

The Tyburn convent in Bombay was situated in as breathtaking a setting as the one in Rotorua (from a few weeks ago). We enjoyed the prayerful rhythms of the nuns' life interspersed with our wildly joyful exploration of their magnificent grounds. And it was alone in their beautiful little chapel that evening that I experienced profound peace as I contemplated the "next step" for the Sealy family....Ireland. 

Galway, to be precise. It just keeps coming up. In the past week I have met several people from Galway or with Galway connections. Through various sources this week I have repeatedly heard of the need in Ireland for youth ministers and teachers. Often in my life, these kinds of "patterns" have been the Lord's way of getting my attention and introducing me to an invitation He'd like me to consider. But I had not been thinking at all about going directly from one mission to another. Quite frankly the idea made my heart sink. I thought there'd be a bit of a break between missions. So I sat alone in that chapel and started praying through it and found - to my great surprise - peace. Profound peace. 

Rich has loved our mission experience so much that I just knew he'd be thrilled to discern another one. So I'd barely walked through the door of our house the next day when the whole Ireland thing tumbled off my tongue to Rich. He stared at me like I was insane. He mumbled something about Italy. He'd just spoken to his cousin who had told him that the US military was hiring youth ministers for the families of soldiers stationed in Italy. But he looked sort of like he had been run over by a tank. He kept looking like that for the rest of the afternoon. He went off to workout with Fr. Michael and came home talking about doctoral programs. At American schools, not Italian ones. And definitely not Irish ones. 

The point is, we still really have no idea what The Plan is. We keep getting asked about it, but we don't know what it is. We know who does, but He's not telling yet - and we're ok with that. There is really no rush; almost a third of our mission time still awaits us. Right now we're just trying to remain wide open and at peace. We're determined to enjoy the ride, to live in the present moment and fully experience the seven or eight months left without anticipating too much about what will come next. That might sound irresponsible, especially given the three little people who depend on us for meals. So I assure all that we are very much thinking, talking, praying, networking....but not fretting, worrying or living in the future. If we haven't learned by now that we can fully trust Divine Providence, I don't think we ever will. 

I don't know what that whole Ireland whirlwind was all about. Perhaps it was sheer craziness. Perhaps it's a seed the Lord is planting now, but not intending to reap until a later season of our lives. Perhaps it was Jesus asking me to surrender the whole of my plan to Him - and Him showing me a possibility that is wholly other than what I would have pursued - in order to impart a deeper peace and abandonment in my soul. If so...it worked.  Bail ó Dhia ort.