You Know What Causes That, Right?

Somehow, when I hit publish half of my original post disappeared.  Please forgive my incoherence.  I'm not sure this made it any better, but the first half has been restored.


Recently, I was waiting at the hospital for a decidedly difficult to find sharp's container when it happened.  I was waiting in the discharge area with several other patients. Usually I can predict who and what form the 'it' is going to take, but that day I was not paying attention as I had already waited for quite sometime and there was no end in sight.

"Is this your first baby?"
"Pardon me?
"You are expecting?  Is this your first pregnancy?"
"Yes, I am.  No, it isn't."
[uncomfortable pause]
"How many children do you have?"
"This will be our seventh."

I know that it can be more startling to hear this news that there is a young, 30-something mother happy to be expecting her seventh child, but I was still taken aback by this particular woman's reaction.  Rising out of her chair, she adjusted the spectacles that balancing on her nose so that she could more effectively examine me.  Her hands struck the desktop with such startling ferocity that several of the other patients jumped in their seats.

"You know what causes that, don't you?"

Up to now, I had only ever encountered a sneer ion the lips of some sinister ne'er do well in the pages of   of some gruesome murder mystery.  I am certain that the tone and expression on this woman's face would live up to everything literary sneering aims to be.

I wish I could pinpoint the moment in time when we became committed to the large family course we've been on for more than a decade.  The most hopeful me would say, our wedding day.  In reality it has been a struggle for each of us.  Sometimes more, sometimes less, but it is a daily conversion for each of us.  Growing in understanding of what exactly is this blessing of children, what it means to being open to to life, being open to God's will.  Just because you decide on paper that you do not want to engage in the so-called 'contraceptive mentality' does not mean that you won't wrestle with what that means from time to time.

After I became pregnant with our third child, the jokes, comments, and questions began to abound regarding when we were going to stop having children.  Three.  It really amazed me that three small children could elicit such powerful emotion and derision.  I was embarrassed, angry! and speechless at the near constant commentary that came from all quarters.  I'm certain that Satan was doing all that poking and prodding and hackle raising.

Actually, mention any spiritual discipline and you will get the same angry response from the same people.  So taking an average group of Christians and non-believers alike and raise the case for tithing or fasting or the blessing of children and you are likely to be met with the same level of vitriol, defensiveness, and rejection of the argument (maybe even a few ad hominem attacks if you are really lucky).  And why is that?  Because the Devil is at work there.  Any time we obey those commandments that cause us to die to self, any small sacrifice that we make towards the building of our treasure in Heaven, anytime we choose LOVE over jealousy, avarice, covetousness, fornication, pride, et cetera our defeated foe makes a furious campaign to overwhelm us.  It can be shocking the venom that snake has ready for us, but there it is.  I used to be much more cautious to call out the Devil on these things, but if it is not the work of Satan then I am at an utter loss as to why my business is of any concern to anyone else.

I had a much beloved professor who used to pound table with both hands and declare, "Children!  If you learn nothing else, you must know!  Evil exists!  It's a fallen world!"  That lovely man saved me more time than I can tell you.  I no longer try to understand the senseless, terrible things that occur in this world.  If events at times seem to arise out of senseless chaos, out of insanity . . .  then it is likely that they do.

So given all this, and the fact that we do have several more children than your average household, I decided several years ago, that I wanted to be a positive witness for marriage, large-than-average families, and for husbands and wives.  I have been through the 5 stages of "you know what causes that" everything from humiliation to cordial silence to barbed comments to funny retorts and finally acceptance.  I know this topic is covered ad nauseum, there's even a song.  As I am rapidly approaching my due date (only 7.5 more weeks) I'm going to throw in my 2 cents:  be a good witness.  If you must say something, smile and say, "yes."  Now unfortunately, this doesn't satisfy everyone, but it will satisfy most.  It was not going to satisfy my cross-examiner that day.  What a bizarre experience, this public trial of sorts as there were many present.  All the same, I was resolved to neither be snarky, nor rude, nor defensive, nor embarrassed.    

"You know what causes that, don't you?"

"Yes. My husband is a wonderful lover."

The coolness and unexpectedness of my comment knocked her off her feet.  And maybe that seems to be a mean or crude joke to play on someone.  But actually, what followed was a frank and lovely conversation about what we consider our vocation.  Gone away was the Angry Sneerer,  scurried off was the venomous snake, all that was left was a room of people who listened and heard, "the grace is bestowed when the blessing is received."

Win-win, I'd say.

2008 Pilgrimage for Life in Huntsville, Texas, part one:

Five a.m.: November 24, 2008: We are away from home. I find myself staring-- disbelieving -- into the chasm that has dashed my hopes for the morning. It is the washing machine and it has eaten my youngest son's Incredible Hulk, light-up tennis shoes.

It is the morning of the Pilgrimage for Life in Huntsville, Texas led by Daniel Cardinal DiNardo of the Archdiocese of Galveston-Houston. We had come from Fort Worth for the weekend to stay with my husband's family near Houston. While closer than the nearly four hour drive we might have had to make with five children in tow, it is still an hour and half away and now our fate is in the hands of the nearest open Wal-Mart. At this point, I am surprised that this is our only crisis. Did I mention, it is five in the morning? It has only just begun.

His Eminence, Daniel Cardinal DiNardo, was elevated to the College of Cardinals in October of 2007. He is the first Prince of the Church of the Southern United States. The Pilgrimage for Life is a first for the Archdiocese of Galveston-Houston and as of this moment 400 people have registered with the organizers of the event. They have expressed surprise at those numbers.

Josephus and I rounded up the children, finished packing the last of the freshly laundered clothes (gotta love staying with family!), and crammed the kids into the van. Normally, you would have no need to cram 7 people into a 15 passenger vehicle, but we're the Flavius's and we had been willy-nilly multi-taskers this particular weekend. In addition to a nice visit with Josephus's family, we had also packed in a run to Brenham, Texas to pick up 50 rose bushes for a church fund raiser. All in all, it had been a jam packed weekend, but today is Monday and we are headed to Huntsville to march and pray alongside friends from our sister parish in Houston, St. John Chrysostom, and Catholics from all over the state.

In my mind, this is going to be simple. Yesterday I deftly picked a gas station near the fairgrounds where we are expected to park and sent out directions to all the others in our group. What could go wrong? Overconfidence or at least the appearance of it is one of my fatal flaws. Often I can sense the uncertainty and the answers to that blithe little question being formed before the words leave my mouth. My first instinct is to play it off, but when confronted with a melted shoe (which has put us at least 30 minutes behind schedule), I am now a nervous wreck.

Between leaving late and stopping in Conroe for more Incredible Hulk shoes, we do not make the rendezvous on time. Shocker. I text Fr. Elias frantically. He's apparently running late, too. Thank God. Unfortunately, everyone else has gone on without us. Our two cars are the only ones with mobile phones, so at this point we have no earthly idea where anyone is. Josephus outfits the kids with snacks and we are off. Did I mention a steady drizzle has begun? Did I mention we don't own umbrellas?

2008 Pilgrimage for Life in Huntsville, Texas, part two:

The Cardinal notes the tragic, but all too important connection between abortion and violence and today it was especially poignant, because today, we not only pray for the lives of the victims of abortion, which included the innocent, but also their mothers and fathers and families that were touched by this tragedy. We also include prayers for all those on Death Row and an end to the death penalty, interceding especially for the 10 prisoners who are slated for execution in the coming year.

On this note, I will say that I have always had a personal struggle with the Death Penalty. Intellectually, I can connect that to be really pro-life that I should be against it. I have even made the argument I'm only “for” the Death Penalty because the state of Texas does not have a genuine life sentence. I have heard and empathized with those who note that abortion's victims are innocent and that the Death Row inmates earned their punishment. For what it is worth, the babies who die in the holocaust of abortion are innocent, but not all victims of abortion are innocent. The reality is that abortion takes its toll on the mothers, the fathers, grandparents, brother and sisters, clinic workers, the abortionists themselves. The violence of the single act of abortion can be pictured as a bullet-hole with many rays spreading out from it. Death row inmates and criminal violence are some of those rays. Violence begets more violence.

We march and pray the Rosary, all of us together, not simply the 19 of us from the Byzantine parishes in Texas, but all thousand of us, strangers helping strangers, volunteers handing out water and making sure we walked on our allotted portion of the road, and stopping traffic for us. At one point, a Houston native takes over pushing my stroller so that I can help my husband herd along our now lagging 5 year old. There are several moments before we began praying that I wonder, “why are we doing this? What are we trying to prove? I mean, we're pro-life! We're a family of five, plus another on the way, I think people get the picture!” The children, for one, think the whole idea is wacko and demonstrate their opinions in various ways. A. (age 3) stops walking altogether and decides that she would prefer to be carried the rest of the way. N. (age 8) lays down the icon of Rachel Weeping in the grass and then sullenly trudges forward, D. (age 5) runs in circles saying, “but why do we have to waaaalk?” over and over again. M. (age 7) is doing her best, but it is soon clear that her desire to push the stroller is greater than her ability. All this and we have not yet reached the rallying point in front of Planned Parenthood. It is very discouraging. But! Do not be discouraged! Off goes my cardigan, which I wrap Rachel's four corners in. Having fashioned a rudimentary sling, I jostle Rachel and her brood on to my back, grab the handles of the stroller and I am off! Poor Josephus is being encircled by sad and heavy children. I can see Fr. Elias in the crowd, guffawing at our spectacle, while I put on my best, “what spectacle?” face. None the less, I was soon relieved of Rachel as she is passed on to a helpful and capable gentleman from St. John's. It is not long before the prayers of the Rosary are lifting me out of my discouragement and dismay and joyfully we proclaim the mysteries of the the Holy Rosary along with all our Latin Catholic brothers and sisters. It isn't just my spirits that we lift, but the children's and Joseph's, as well. It is physically and spiritually renewing to be among all these holy people witnessing the Gospel.

Another striking note: when we finally joined Fr. Elias, I asked him, “where is the Planned Parenthood clinic?”