What Kind of Giver Am I?

What Kind of Giver Am I?

On Thursday morning I stood outside on a street corner for several hours, walking through traffic, trying to solicit money.  I did this as part of “Old Newsboys’ Day”, which raises money for various children’s charities every year.  If you didn’t grow up in St. Louis, and maybe even if you did, you probably wondered who those people were, standing outside in traffic.

For at least the past 15 years, I’ve personally been on Clarkson Road, at Kehrs Mill, selling papers for charity the week before Thanksgiving.  My family has been doing it since I was a kid, and we’ve seen rain, sleet, snow, freezing temperatures, and this year, an unseasonably mild day.  I’ve been witness to pure generosity, as well as rage.  I’ve been the recipient of kind and also ignorant acts.  I’ve seen it all.

Many people recognize the Newsboy apron I wear, and know exactly what the day is all about.  They waive me over, give generously, and don’t even want the newspaper I offer them in return.  They just want to give.  Others waive me over and ask how much to buy a paper.  Perhaps they think I’m selling the Post on a street corner, and aren’t aware that news can now be found on the internet.  When I explain to them there is no set price, but any donation they can give will go to charity, they will happily take the paper, put their money away and drive off.  They just want to take without giving. 

Occasionally I fear for my life as certain cars swerve closer.  I’ve seen women applying make-up, with the vanity mirror down as they drive by.  I’ve seen students typing papers on their computers as they pull into Marquette.  I even saw a man eating his breakfast off a plate on the dashboard…with knife and fork.  Some people are just oblivious to the world around them, and even to the important task that is right in front of them. 

I’ve seen row after row of cars where no one will even acknowledge my presence.  Some people simply ignore me, but others go out of their way to concoct elaborate acts.  These acts usually evolve with technology.  The historical evolution started low-tech, with people feeling the compulsive need to suddenly dig through their purses or glove compartments as I approached.  That progressed towards everyone’s cell phone mysteriously needing to be answered right as my shadow fell upon the hood of their car.  Maybe my body is a good conductor of cellular signals??  Eventually people felt it necessary to put their ear buds in and listen to their iPods as my heavy footsteps called out to them.  Now, all heads simply look down at their laps, and many texts are sent, and webpages visited, while waiting for me to pass by at a stoplight.  This last one might not actually have much to do with me, since I observe the same behavior at almost every stoplight nowadays.  At any rate, many people, understandably, don’t want to open themselves up to something uncomfortable.  Instead, they fake an over-intense interest in something meaningless, until the discomfort (in this case a scary man on the street) passes by.

Before you start thinking the majority of people ignore me, there are also many who purposely try to get my attention, even if they don’t want to donate.  Many people put their paper in the windshield or casually point to it, to show me that they’ve already given on another street corner.  Whether they originally gave out of kindness, or simply to use the paper as a “free pass” in order to avoid being bothered at every stoplight on their way to work, their generosity is still appreciated.  There are others who roll their windows down and waive the paper at me violently until I acknowledge them and thank them again.  I can imagine these same people bringing their papers in to work, so that co-workers will sing their praises.  Perhaps these are the same people who keep “I gave blood” stickers on their coats from a donation they gave 5 years earlier.  I will not deny that they are helping others, but they certainly love to be noticed.

There is one lady every year, who never fails to tell us the story about how she saves a cupful of change in her car, adding to it for 12 months, in order to give.  The first year I took her donation, she regaled me with the tail of every place she received change over the year.  As cars behind her honked, and people whizzed by, cussing at me, she lofted up the McDonalds cup, asked me to put my hands out, so she could dump the contents.  I did not realize it still had soda in it when she started her coin collection a year earlier.  The entire bottom inch of coins was pasted together in a sticky clump.  She was also a smoker, and some cigarette butts obviously didn’t find the ash tray.  Now, if I see a woman waiving at me with a cup full of coins, I let my brother take that donation!

Finally, there are the people who are willing to give freely and generously.  They often have a dollar or two in hand as I approach, and after finding where the money goes, they open their wallets and pull out an extra five or ten or twenty dollars.  These people usually have a smile on their face, and thank ME for what I’m doing, before I can thank them.  They are often the start of an entire line of givers.  People see them, and put away their phones, and make-up, and open their windows to give.  Kindness and generosity are certainly contagious.

I don’t write this to tell you to give to Old Newsboys’ Day.  During this time of year, where many people give generously to charities, I would hope that you research organizations on your own, before giving.  I’ve been sickened in the past to find out that charities I had devoted much time and countless hours to, had been quietly giving my dollars in support of embryonic stem cell research, or other unethical areas.  But I digress...The reason for writing this, is because my time selling newspapers has made me aware of the different types of giving.  Every day, but especially as Advent approaches, I should be examining my treatment of others, my generosity, my hidden intentions and true motivation.  This should ESPECIALLY be true of my interactions with my spouse. 

Do I give without thinking of what may be in it for me?  Do I take without thinking of what my wife is giving?  Am I oblivious to all that she is doing around me?  Do I feign being busy, or keep myself occupied with trivial tasks in order to avoid more meaningful discussions with her?  Do I give her only the minimum, in order to check that I put in my time, and I can go on to something else?  Do I demand to be acknowledge for even the simplest things I do, and milk them for all they’re worth?  Do I put in a lot of time and effort, but put it towards the wrong things, never really listening to what is truly needed?  Or perhaps, just maybe, I give freely…love freely…and do it happily, without reservation, without any thought of what I may receive in return, with a smile on my face and a generous heart, so that it can be spread to others, and grow, and make my marriage better, and my family better, and the world a better place. 

These are the things I think about while walking through traffic, on a busy street.  If you see me next year, feel free to smile, even if you don’t want to buy a paper.  I may look like a scary, homeless man, but I’m just a guy out there, trying to think about how I can be a better husband.

Written by:  Matt Buehrig            inspired by:  Wendy Buehrig

Road Trip to Emmaus by Way of Philadelphia

I’m pretty well known for an epic lack of any sense of direction. On more than one road trip I have gotten dramatically lost. An accidental trip to Washington, DC, on the way to New Jersey comes to mind. But a more recent trip to New Jersey is what this story is about. Typically this blog features poignant and inspiring moments in the life of a married couple. Sorry, this one is about a group of moms who left their men behind and took a 14 hour road trip to visit another guy.

Okay, yes, the other guy was Pope Francis. So that’s all right…right?

This little trip was an amazing experience of why it is wonderful to be a Catholic.

Appreciating God’s Providence

It began with a little email from Nicole Dresser to several mom friends here in STL asking, “Hey, anyone want to go to Philly to see the Pope? (Nicole and hubby Eric were in Teams of our Lady in STL and this summer Eric’s job transferred their family to Canada) I had been wishing I could be part of the Pope’s World Meeting of Families Visit to the USA, but thought it was an impossible notion, so I called Nicole to joke about what an absurd idea it was. But God in His providence used that phone call to make the impossible into possible. (Amazing how God does that.)

Soon, with God’s guidance and Nicole’s amazing organizing capabilities put to work, the trip came together. We had no tickets to anything. We just went to go pray with and for the Pope praying with and for our nation, our families and our world. God provided all we needed: a place to stay (Nicole’s friend’s house nearby in Jersey), a car to travel in (Stephanie Lombard’s van), train tickets to Philly (Thanks Nicole), and great travelling companions. It’s wonderful to be Catholic and have eyes to see the gracious hand of providence even in small things like planning a mom’s road trip. For example, Thank You, God, for relocating Nicole to Canada so we’d have to go to Philly for the Pope’s visit to see her!

Hearts Burning with Love

From the moment we arrived off the train in Philadelphia on Saturday, we were drawn forward as if by a compelling inner invitation. Like the disciples on their way to Emmaus with Jesus, we knew there was a special presence here. In the birthplace of freedom in America, among vast crowds of Catholic people, with joyful images of the Pope everywhere, we felt like we were really part of a universal Church family. Huge jumbo-tron screens on city street corners would be streaming all day with Holy Mass, Sacred music, personal testimonies, papal speeches and more. Expectancy and joy breathed from everyone. We were exultant when we finally found “our spot” where we could see both a jumbo-tron AND the stage way off in the distance where the Pope would be.

Saturday’s Festival of Families was a day filled with celebration of the family itself. The quality of the entertainment, music, comedy and fellowship was such a delight. All around us, total strangers felt more like a huge family reunion. After waiting for hours, everyone’s hearts were burning with anticipation to see Pope Francis driving towards us on the street. It was like that happy Emmaus feeling when Jesus decided to stay with the disciples, and not move on, that we had when the Pope took his seat on stage. His inspiring and often humorous words about family life felt like he was sitting at the family table with us sharing stories with laughter and wisdom.

Some of his profound thoughts: “In the family, truth, goodness and beauty can grow,” he said.  Families are “factories of hope.” “God sent Jesus not to live in a palace but to a family.” His voice insistent and earnest, he concluded: “Two things we really have to take care of. The children and the grandparents. The children are the future. The grandparents are the living memory of the family. They transmitted the faith to us… A society that doesn’t know how to look after its children [or] ... its grandparents is a people that has no future. It doesn’t have strength or the memory to go forward.” And as he ended, he turned aside to one of his aides and the Pope asked, “What time is Mass tomorrow?” Adorable.

Recognizing Jesus in the Breaking of the Bread

On Sunday, about a million of us made our way toward the Benjamin Franklin Parkway to attend the outdoor Papal Mass. The only bummer of the whole trip was that our little group of five got separated. Nicole and Stephanie made it in on the Parkway and Erin, Barb and I did not. Either way we all were watching it on a jumbo-tron, but it was the experience of communion that we missed on the outside. We delighted in sharing Holy Mass, appreciating Jesus’ true presence in, among and through thousands upon thousands of us. Multitudes of people spilled far beyond the crowded confines of the parkway. Downtown Philly was a packed church (And for the Pope, all the front pews were filled ;) But being on the “outside”, we did not get a little yellow and white umbrella bringing Jesus personally to us. Nicole and Stephanie wept with JOY when they were able to receive Jesus.  I wonder if Jesus wanted the rest of us who were stuck on the outside go home hungry for a reason. To better appreciate the miracle of every mass at home.

The pope’s words to us in Sunday’s homily were a powerful “take home” as well. He said, “Faith opens a “window” to the presence and working of the Spirit. It shows us that, like happiness, holiness is always tied to little gestures. “Whoever gives you a cup of water in my name will not go unrewarded”, says Jesus (cf. Mk 9:41). These little gestures are those we learn at home, in the family; they get lost amid all the other things we do, yet they do make each day different. They are the quiet things done by mothers and grandmothers, by fathers and grandfathers, by children. They are little signs of tenderness, affection and compassion. Like the warm supper we look forward to at night, the early lunch awaiting someone who gets up early to go to work. Homely gestures. Like a blessing before we go to bed, or a hug after we return from a hard day’s work. Love is shown by little things, by attention to small daily signs which make us feel at home. Faith grows when it is lived and shaped by love. That is why our families, our homes, are true domestic churches. They are the right place for faith to become life, and life to become faith.”

Just like Jesus at Emmaus, after the Mass, Pope Francis left us. But his words and witness are breadcrumbs we can keep in our pockets to remember and hopefully to influence our lives “for good”.

So, here we are on a blog for married couples. What did this road trip have to do with marriage? Many inspiring thoughts from Pope Francis come to mind, but I’ll leave it at this. Sometimes as wives we forget the spiritual influence that marriage by nature calls us to share in our husband’s lives. Each of us wives left our husband behind to go see the Pope. Because we did, our husbands had a keener interest in the visit of the Vicar of Christ to America too. Pope Francis, visiting here or from Rome, consistently leads us to love and imitate Our Lord. Connect the dots. We went to see Pope in Philly. Hubbies had keener interest because we were there. Pope leads us to God. So…perhaps our absence did make our husband’s hearts grow fonder… of Jesus.

Cathy Gilmore

PS:  To see more of our wonderful journey, including YouTube videos of the Pope’s talk on Saturday, his homily on Sunday and more, use this link:  https://sway.com/nV3Nm9IZAPk38C66 to open my SWAY presentation on our trip. (Need to be on Wifi) You’ll feel in a small way like you actually went with us.

Since I tweet as little animals who love Jesus on Twitter @myeasterbunny and @mylambofGod, I decided to take the Easter Bunny on the road trip, and the bunny’s tweets are part of the presentation and add some sweet comic relief to the story.

Marriage is Love

“Marriage is the human experience that begins to make God comprehensible to humans.”(1)

I came across that statement while I was reading in the adoration chapel.  ‘Reading’ is a very generous description…flipping through pages is probably more accurate.  Whenever I visit the chapel for adoration, I always have a hope in the back of my mind that God will begin speaking to me, and his voice and message will be loud and clear.  Since I have never audibly heard his voice, however, over the years, my backup plan usually involves grabbing a bible and 1 or 2 or 5 other books.

One evening I found myself thumbing through a book entitled “Witness to Hope”, written several years ago about Pope Saint John Paul II.  For whatever reason, I stopped about midway into the book and began reading.  As I skimmed down the page, I read “Marriage is the human experience that begins to make God comprehensible to humans.”  Wow!  I read it again.  I still hope to hear God speak to me audibly someday, but until then, I felt like the message was pretty clear. 

God.  The Trinity.  A great mystery of our faith, and one we can only hope to understand once we gain our eternal reward in heaven.  What if something on earth had the prospect of even beginning to make that mystery comprehensible?  That would be a truly wondrous thing!  Marriage IS that wondrous thing.  What is God?  In the most concise way our human words can state, God is love.  What is marriage?  When you strip away everything else and bring it down to its true core, Marriage is love.

How do we know what love is?  Too many people still view love as the feeling of butterflies in your stomach at someone’s touch.  They hope for the euphoric happiness felt once upon a time during a marriage proposal.  They long for the amazing visual display of a wedding ceremony. 

What love truly is, was described most perfectly by Saint Paul.  I’m talking about 1 Corinthians 13:4-13.  We all know this verse, even if we don’t recognize it immediately.  It’s worth pulling out your bible and giving this passage another read.  Read it with your spouse.  If we have ever known the type of true love described in 1 Corinthians, then we have been given the gift of a small comprehension of God.  In marriage, we have an opportunity to attain that gift.

May God bless your marriage.

Written by:  Matt Buehrig      Inspired by:  Wendy Buehrig

(1)  The first quote was from “Witness to Hope: The Biography of Pope John Paul II” by George Weigel. 

I’m admittedly not very good at referencing sources.  This statement was footnoted, and the referenced source was also footnoted, and it eventually led back to one of John Paul II’s own writings, produced in Polish under a pseudonym, when he was a young priest.  Regretfully, I can’t say whether or not the exact statement can be attributed to the saintly pope, or whether it was paraphrased by one of the other authors along the way, but nevertheless, the impact is the same.

Peace in the Midst of Conflict

                “Blessed are the peacemakers for they shall be called children of God.”  I have been sitting with this beatitude lately and reconsidering what it means to be a peacemaker. Married life provides plenty of opportunities for peacemaking because conflicts always seem to arise even in the happiest marriages. My natural inclination has always been to avoid conflict, and I used to think that the goal of life was to prevent conflict – then there would be peace. Therefore the presence of conflict in my marriage or in my family or in my classroom was a sign of failure on my part.

                Then on Catholic Radio a few months ago, I heard a program that shared this idea: The peace of Christ is different from the world’s peace. Jesus says, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. Not as the world gives do I give to you.” (John 14:27) The difference is this: although the world defines peace as the absence of conflict, Christ defines peace as the ability to rise above conflict. Jesus did not avoid conflict, but rather walked right into the midst of it, and in doing so he transformed the cross from a curse to a blessing.

                A few nights after I heard that program, I attended a seminar for married couples at Holy Infant called “Fighting the Good Fight,” where the presenter emphasized the truth that conflict is not necessarily a bad thing; in fact, he even went so far as to say that without conflict there could be no intimacy since the act of solving conflicts builds community while avoiding conflict creates distance. Conflict shows that we actually care about something or someone enough to speak up.

                That was a completely new thought to me. Conflict is a good thing? I could practically feel God rearranging my brain cells. I almost didn’t go to the seminar because even its title was threatening to me – I didn’t want to fight, at all, ever. Why would I want to listen to someone talk about fighting? I would rather avoid the entire topic. But I’m really glad Jim and I went. I’m coming to see that I do not need to fear conflict, that being a peacemaker (God’s way) involves the courage to admit that there are differences among us and that by working through our differences we can actually become more intimately connected to one another.

                This is the fundamental message that I want to convey: it is the process of working through our differences that will ultimately bind us together in love. Instead of avoiding conflict by ignoring the disagreements and misunderstandings that simmer below the surface; instead of worrying that your marriage is in trouble because you and spouse don’t always agree about everything; instead of judging the goodness of your marriage by the presence or absence of conflict: instead of any of these misguided understandings of conflict, we need to become true peacemakers. We need to courageously acknowledge conflict, to really listen to the other’s viewpoint, and to allow the process of working through differences to draw us more intimately into relationship with one another. “Blessed are the peacemakers for they shall be called children of God.”  

-Debbi St. Louis

Jesus Wept

Our son just turned five in February.  He considers himself a big kid now.  And he is in many ways.  He can dress himself, follow directions (when he wants to), have real conversations, and show excitement and interest in our Catholic faith. 

And it’s because of all these “big boy” traits that this year I took Liam with me to cemetery on what would have been my sister’s 28th birthday. 

Greg was working since it was on a weekday this year, so Liam helped me pick out flowers to bring and then walked with me to Katie’s grave to help arrange the flowers.  Before we went, I explained to him again what a cemetery was and why we were going on that day.  Admittedly, I was a little unsure of how he would react and what questions he’d have. 

Because we do talk about my sister and other family members who have died, death was not a new topic for him to hear about.  Maybe that’s why he had the reaction to the cemetery that he did.  He was proud to help arrange the flowers.  Then he asked if we could walk around and look at other gravestones.

We ended up spending half an hour on a beautiful day walking through the cemetery.  He asked about different gravestones and why some were bigger, smaller, or just very different from others.  He asked why some had flowers or balloons and others didn’t.  

Then he asked if we could bring flowers for all the graves that didn’t have any next time we came.  I told him we could, and then I told him about the Corporal Works of Mercy and how he had just performed one.   We talked about why we bury the dead and why we come back to put flowers on graves.  And how nice it was for him to think about the graves without flowers on them. 

Then we talked about the shortest verse in the Bible – John 11:35: “Jesus wept.”  I explained how Jesus showed us it was OK to be sad and miss people, even if we knew we’d see them in Heaven.  He listened and continued looking at the graves as we walked. 

When it was time to go, I looked at him and realized the topics we’d just covered – death, Corporal Works of Mercy, mourning.  It wasn’t forced and I didn’t plan to talk about all those topics with him, but the opportunity was there.  And even though he may not have comprehended everything, I’m glad I took the time to talk about some of the “tough stuff” of life with him.  Because he didn’t fear the cemetery or discussion of death that day.  He saw the peace and beauty there and recognized that he could add to it in a small way. 

So when I go back on May 10^th to take flowers for the anniversary of my sister’s death.  He’ll come with me again.  And this time we’ll bring some extra flowers for those graves that haven’t been visited in a while.  Because, as Liam recognized in his own way, we’re entrusted with the memory of those who have died.  Like Jesus, we can weep and grieve, despite the hope that we’ll be reunited one day.  It’s not an easy lesson or task, and it’s often overlooked as society shies away from discussion of death and dying.  But it’s an important one. 

And sometimes it takes the questions and observations of a five year old big boy to remind us of that.   

MERCY: His Grace, Our Challenge

 “When you are obedient I take away your weakness and replace it with My strength. I am very surprised that souls do not want to make that exchange with Me.” Diary (pg 172, #381)    

   

How often do we attempt to ‘handle it on our own’ or exercise our stubbornness to the utmost of our limits? Why is it that we decline the generous offers of Our Lord with His available graces and blessings? Perhaps it’s simply a matter of trust. Remember the contrasting ends to the lives of St. Dismas and Judas. One was the ‘ultimate thief’ deciding to trust during his final moments of agony essentially ‘stealing heaven’, and one was perhaps the ‘ultimate fool’ in disowning his apostleship with the Christ. Tis amazing how often participation on a team, an organization and/or a family quite frequently exposes one’s flaws and/or leads to newly found reserves of energy and perseverance.

“It is not always within your power to control your feelings. You will recognize that you have love if, after having experienced annoyance and contradiction, you do not lose your peace, but pray for those who have made you suffer and wish them well.” Diary (pg 575, #1628)     

At this midnight hour, the last theme I feel the need to delve into would be mercy. One more exciting episode of ‘The Red Head Express’ starring our two year old took center stage last night. Then again as Daun reminded me, when these little ones come running, it does indeed give our hearts pause. Seeing their faces is yet another all too brief ‘glimpse of Heaven’.  My preference would be to discuss lessons to be learned from a Rocky or Rambo movie, but here’s a story from my beautiful bride on the more appropriate and difficult topic of mercy.

The concepts of mercy and confession have taken on a whole new light now that I am a parent. My guess is I am not alone and we have all wondered or even uttered once or twice during our parenthood: “Why don’t you just do what I ask you to do?”

Last week, our little red headed two-year old was throwing the tantrum of all tantrums, and these exact words came from my mouth. I wanted to tell her how I knew what was best for her and that she should probably just settle down and do what mommy and daddy tell her to do.

Then it dawned on me – how many times am I the one throwing the fit when my Father has very clearly laid out before me what He wants me to do? After all, He knows what is best for me, right? Within a couple days of that incident, I found myself in the confessional asking for the Lord’s forgiveness and attempting to start anew again. Of course, I have fallen since then, but my hope and trust is that the mercy and grace I receive from the Lord, will help make those times I need to get back up a little bit easier.

The question was once asked, why do I need to go to confession? I am just going to sin again. And the answer was as simple as “Why take a shower each day? You are just going to get dirty again.” My prayer is that I may always remember, to never turn away the opportunity to be showered in His mercy.

­­­­­­­­­­This Sunday we celebrate the 15^th Divine Mercy Sunday. It is this original mercy of our Lord, in His sacrifice upon the Cross, that we encountered once again during Holy Week. It is in the writings of the Diary, beads of the Chaplet and Novena prayers that the efforts of St. Faustina are bestowed upon the world, blessed with His approval.

P.S. “You can continue to be at peace if you always do the best you can in respect to this work of mercy. Be absolutely as frank as possible with your confessor.” Diary (pg 537, #1499)    

I make it a rule always to be as Frank as I can with whomever I meet….

Daun & Frank Nesbitt Jr. with Meditations from Our Lord granted to St. Faustina        

Different Roles for Spouses

Tomorrow I scheduled a vacation day at work.  Unfortunately, I won’t be spending the day doing anything fun.  I will be at the hospital with my daughter.  She has surgery scheduled.  Usually that statement is followed by many well-wishes, offers for prayers, concerned looks, prying questions, and even condolences.  If there ever was a ‘good’ surgery, however, this is it.  You see, the surgery is being done to remove a medical port; a device that was implanted under my daughter’s skin many years ago.  It was used during countless rounds of chemotherapy, many blood transfusions, for the administration of anesthesia, antibiotics, fluids, and other medicines.  It lasted years longer than expected, but now, it hasn’t been accessed in over a year.  The removal of this port will represent the start of a new phase in our daughter’s life.  This will be the first time since she was six months old that there hasn’t been some type of device, tube, or direct-line permanently in her body.

Don’t worry; I didn’t forget that this is a MARRIAGE blog.  I told you that first part, in order to tell you this:  While I’m sitting at the hospital with my daughter, my wife will be at home.  That’s been our deal more often than not.  I take care of MRI’s, surgeries, and hospital stays…and she takes care of everything else.  She’ll be waking up the kids, changing diapers, driving carpools, making meals, and a million other things I can’t even begin to imagine.  While she is running around like crazy, trying to manage the other kids, I will be handing our daughter over to the anesthesiologist.  While she is trying to catch a moment’s peace amidst the hectic day, I will be visiting the hospital chapel to say a quick prayer.  While she is loading up kids to go pick other kids up at carpool, I will be waiting for our daughter to wake up following surgery.

Most marriages seem to have different duties split between spouses.  For good or bad, these often become “their roles”.  Problems seem to arise when one spouse gets continually stuck with the more difficult, tiring, demanding duties, and the other gets to have all of the fun.  There have been comedy sitcoms that make fun of this situation.  I can remember Ray Romano pretending to be too stupid to learn how to fold the laundry, or clean the house correctly, in order to get his wife to take over those roles.  She usually did it out of frustration, and certainly not from any strong desire or love of laundry or cleaning.

I wonder if any of my own Roles were ill-gotten.  I am the one who goes to the park on nice weekends…this might seem like a perk, but it’s actually pretty tiring.  I am the one who teaches the kids how to fish…again, this might seem fun, but until they are older, I usually just end up pulling a lot of hooks out of my fingers.  I am the one who gives piggy-back rides…I can feel my back tightening up already.

Hmm.  I’m beginning to wonder if my wife hasn’t been tricking me into taking the harder roles.  And then I think about her at home, running ragged, while I will be sitting quietly at the hospital.  I think about her running around, hectic, EVERY day.  I wonder if it’s easier sitting in the hospital, waiting during surgery.  Would I rather be at home, not knowing, but keeping busy?  I guess there are no easy roles.  Everything we do, we do for each other, and for our family, and hopefully, for the Greater Glory of God.

I think of the apostles.  Peter was always going, the first to answer Jesus’ questions, getting in arguments with people, jumping out of the boat into the turbulent waters, and eventually dying a martyr’s death.  John was always around, always with Jesus, but usually listening and watching.  He was there for the transfiguration, and for the agony in the garden, and was the only one of the twelve at the foot of the cross.  He soaked it all in and then wrote it all down.  The early Church needed both types of men.  The Church today still needs both types of followers.  In every marriage, there are many different roles to fill. 

Tomorrow I will be like John, and sit watchful in the waiting room.  Perhaps Sunday, I will be more like Peter, as we celebrate our parish’s St. Patrick’s Day festival.  I just pray I remember to look at my wife, and make sure that, together, we are filling all the roles required of our marriage.  If something falls through the cracks, it is not she or I that failed, it is us.  We are bound together and strong together in our marital union.  And because of this, when she succeeds, I succeed.  When our marriage succeeds, our family is stronger, the church is stronger, and the world is on a closer path to God.

Written by: Matt Buehrig,     Inspired by: Wendy Buehrig