Happy Hearted and Fully Loved

From the day we heard about you,
we have not ceased praying for you…

Colossians 1:9

This past summer, we celebrated our two grandsons’ and a granddaughter’s birthdays. We also celebrated our own forty-something wedding anniversary and the anniversaries of our sons and daughters-in-law. In the midst of all of this revelry, my thoughts returned often to Mike’s and my wedding and our first encounter with parenthood…

I’ll never forget the day my doctor told me that, indeed, I was with child. This announcement came after a years-long struggle to have children. Yes, this news was most welcome! I also recall that from the moment I heard these words, I felt that I knew my baby. Though I had no idea of what he or she would look like and I had no idea of who this child would be, I couldn’t help loving this precious little one. It was on that day that I also began to pray, above all else, that this child would be happy. If God blessed this little person with a happy heart, I knew he or she would be able to handle everything else.

When our baby arrived, he proved to be all I’d hoped for and more. Still, I continued to pray for him every day; sometimes, several times a day. The truth is that this is my ritual regarding our second son, both of our daughters-in-law and our grandchildren as well. I do the same for my extended family and friends.

If I’m going to be totally honest here, I must admit that I call God’s attention to much of the world these days. If people were a bit happier, this world would be far more peaceful. It seems to me that it’s God’s wish for each of us to be happy. So I pray -often and with absolute faith- for just that.

Loving God, bless us all with happy hearts!

©2019 Mary Penich – All Rights Reserved

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Mom

When one becomes a mother, her new life is valued far beyond pearls.
Her children entrust their hearts to her. They are an unfailing prize.

Inspired by Proverbs 31:10-11

On this Mother’s Day Eve, I can’t help thinking about the most important work of my life. Thoughts of my own mom and the other amazing moms who’ve touched my life swirl about in my head. Still, I can’t escape the overwhelming joy which fills me up as I consider my own good fortune in this regard.

I’ve shared before that I didn’t grow up with an ambition to get married or to have children. I was quite certain that I would please God most and reach the fullness of my potential by entering the convent. This resolve remained under the surface through college until, amazingly enough, I fell in love and married. Because I’d embraced a new husband and a new career simultaneously, my potential to be a mom escaped me for a while. It was only after a few successful years in the classroom and the purchase of our first home that I realized the opportunity before me.

Though our hope for a little one took some time to come to fruition, I’ll never forget the day I heard the news. During what seemed to be our millionth visit to his office, Dr. Wool finally announced, “Mary, you’re pregnant!” Apparently, I didn’t hide my excitement because my husband heard my response all the way out in the waiting room. At that moment, my life changed forever. Suddenly, I knew God’s love firsthand because, sight unseen, I loved that baby more than anything. The truth is, I continue to love him and his brother just that much! Though the rest is history, I’d relive every moment as their mom in a heartbeat -a joyful heartbeat.

Dear God, thank you for entrusting me with the two amazing people who call me “Mom”.

©2019 Mary Penich – All Rights Reserved

I Love Timothy!

“…to Timothy, my dear child:
grace, mercy, and peace from God…”

2 Timothy 1:2

On this Feast of St. Timothy, I share once again my affiliation with the good saint’s name. It began when I convinced my husband that the entire family did NOT have to share the first letter of their names. Though Mike, our older son Mike and I all begin our names with M, I wasn’t going to select an “M-name” for our second child which I didn’t like. The results of that conversation came to fruition during dinner one night…

Our younger son was in first grade. The meal had progressed with our typical conversation regarding the day except that Tim seemed especially quiet. In the midst of the conversation, our red-faced seven-year-old suddenly howled, “Why am I the only one in this family whose name doesn’t start with M?” My husband and I were taken aback because we had no idea that this so bothered our younger son. Before we could respond, Tim tearfully added, “Mike, Mary and Michael. Why is my name Timothy?” It occurred to me that this was a good question from our little apparent outcast and I responded.

I explained that his dad and I didn’t choose each other because our names began with M. I added that when our first baby was a boy, his Dad wanted to keep the name Michael in the family. When our second baby was on the way, I felt certain that he was a boy. We talked at length about his name because my husband was committed to another M-name. I told Tim that I didn’t like any of the M-names his dad suggested. Why pick a name just because of the M? I loved “Timothy” and that’s why I selected that name. Tim’s is the only name in the family which we really had to think about. With that, our smiling Timothy finished his dinner.

Dear God, regardless of what we are called, you know us and love us. Thank you!

©2019 Mary Penich – All Rights Reserved

T is for Timothy

“…to Timothy, my dear child:
grace, mercy, and peace from God…”

2 Timothy 1:2

I’ve shared this story before, but it’s Feast of St. Timothy and I can’t resist. When our kids were young, we celebrated our family feast days with a little cake and the favorite dinner of the honoree. When our sons moved out, we sent homemade greeting cards to celebrate these special days. Today, I will resort to a text to assure Tim that I haven’t forgotten his special day. After all, his name is important to me, too.

Every year on this day, my thoughts turn to a dinnertime conversation when Tim was in first grade. The meal had progressed with the usual talk about each of our days except that Tim was particularly quiet. In the midst of the conversation at hand, our red-faced seven-year-old suddenly howled, “Why am I the only one in this family whose name doesn’t start with M?” My husband and I had no idea that this bothered our younger son. Before we could respond, Tim tearfully added, “Mike, Mary and Michael. Why is my name Timothy?” It occurred to me that this was a good question from a seeming outcast.

I explained that his dad and I didn’t choose each other because our names began with M. I added that when our first baby was a boy, his Dad wanted to keep the name Michael in the family. When our second baby was on the way, I felt certain that he was a boy. We talked at length about his name because my husband was committed to another M-name. I told Tim that I didn’t like any of the M-names his dad suggested. Why pick a name just because of the M? I loved “Timothy” and that’s why I selected that name. Timothy is the only name in the family we really had to think about.

With that, the smiling Timothy finished his dinner.

Dear God, regardless of what we are called, you know us and love us. Thank you!

©2018 Mary Penich – All Rights Reserved

Holy Is Your Name!

“…to Timothy, my dear child:
grace, mercy, and peace from God…”

2 Timothy 1:2

The wonderful time I had celebrating our little grandson’s birthday remains with me as do the precious events which led us to this milestone. As we sang “Happy Birthday, dear Danny,” I recalled the phone call which announced Daniel’s birth. Tim happily announced, “He’s here! Daniel’s here!” I’ll never forget the thrill and worry which accompanied that news. When Tim continued with the assurance that all was well with our new grandson, I considered his name which was a complete surprise. I like “Daniel” and I made a mental note to ask his parents how they arrived at this selection.

As I wondered, I recalled an episode with Daniel’s dad when he was a child. At the time, my son expressed complete dissatisfaction with the name my husband and I had chosen for him. It was dinnertime and my husband, our son Mike and I talked as usual about the events of the day. Tim was uncharacteristically quiet. Suddenly, in the midst of the conversation, our red-faced seven-year-old son howled, “Why am I the only one in this family whose name doesn’t start with M?” My husband and I were taken aback. We had no idea that this bothered our younger son. Before we could respond, Tim tearfully added, “Mike, Mary and Michael. Why is my name Timothy?” I hoped my explanation would sooth Tim’s wounded spirit.

“Tim, Dad’s name was Mike and my name was Mary when we met. We didn’t have a choice about that. When we had your brother, Dad wanted to name him after himself and Grandpa. So his name is Mike, too. When you were on the way, I just knew you were going to be a boy. Dad and I talked a lot about your name. I didn’t like any of the M names. Why pick a name just because of the M? I loved Timothy and that’s why you have that name. Yours is the only name that this family really thought about.” With that, my beloved Timothy finished his dinner with a smile.

One day, Daniel will discover as well that his name is the product of his parents’ love.

Dear God, thank you for making each of our names holy just because we are yours.

©2017 Mary Penich – All Rights Reserved

Always God’s Baby

“I will never forget you.
See, upon the palms of my hands I
have written your name…”

From Isaiah 49:15-16

Our granddaughter spent weeks in anticipation of her birthday. Claire has two older sisters, so in spite of each birthday, she remains the baby of the family. She entered kindergarten this year and behaves impeccably there. Still, she thoroughly enjoys every opportunity to play “Baby and Mommy”. Claire makes it clear that she is the baby and that she is only two years old. “Not two and a half,” Claire insists. “I’m a little baby and I’m only two.” With that, she crawls and cries and refuses to use words of any kind. I respond as the loving and patient Mommy who heals her every woe. Claire rests in my arms as I pretend to rock her to sleep. During this phase of our play, she coos contentedly until she feigns a deep sleep.

It was just a year ago that Claire proclaimed her resolve not to attend the “big school” with her sisters because she would always be a baby. Though my first inclination was to encourage her to embrace growing up, I thought better of it. How often over my own lifetime have I wished to set aside the troubles of adulthood? How often have I wished to be scooped up onto someone’s lap with no expectation of me except to lie there contentedly?

You know, there is something to be said for being someone’s child and for allowing ourselves to be cared for. Though Claire is growing up like the rest of us, I hope she never loses sight of the pleasure she finds in her loved ones’ laps.

Happy Birthday, Claire! You’ll always be God’s baby!

Loving God, thank you for making room for each one of us in your lap. Let us never forget the love you shower upon us. Today, please bless Claire and all of the little children who look to us for guidance and love.

©2016 Mary Penich – All Rights Reserved