Part Three: Pray, Hope and Don't Worry

While we were working on getting the house ready to be listed, Michael was offered the Civil Engineer position in Elgin. I was not sold on this idea. He had worked in the Civil field before, when we were engaged, and disliked it so much that that he left the field for another job in Texas. I was not going to move across the country again. That was not an option I was even willing to consider.

Michael felt strongly that he should accept this position in Elgin. It was a job. It offered some security to our precarious financial situation. He was willing to take just about anything, I think. I really appreciate this about my husband. That he is so concerned with our well-being, that he would take just about any work that he could get, even if it was something he knew he wouldn't really enjoy.

At the end of our many discussions, and a lot of sadness for me, he took the position, and started his new job on July 20th, the same day we received the offer on our house.

Throughout this process, I kept praying. I said countless Memorares and Rosaries. It was the only thing I had left, the only thing I could do for our future. The next day, July 21st, God spoke to me. I'm sure of it. We received a donation request from the Padre Pio Foundation. Big and bold on the front of the envelope, it said:

“Pray, hope and don’t worry. Worry is useless. God is merciful and will hear your prayer.”

What a perfectly timed message. This became my mantra, in a way. Whenever I would start to feel anxious, I would remember the quote. Anytime anything came up with selling our house, or packing things up, or “how are we going to do XYZ”, I would stop myself. One thing at a time, Jess. It’s so hard not to worry though, especially when it feels like everything you once knew is gone like a dream after you wake up.

In early August, I decided to hop in the car and drive up to Northern Illinois to stay with Grandpa and Mimi (Michael's Dad and step-Mom). I use the term “decided” very loosely here. Really, I had a mini/major meltdown because the kids were being kids… and did not seem to understand that their pounding and jumping and banging was giving me a heart attack. (Because we’d just spent all that time and money fixing the house up, got an offer and now had to keep it *perfect*)

I called Michael, hysterical, and he told me to go to his Dad’s. He realized we needed some time away from the house and some serious time with him. Because of the crazy commute, he was only able to come home on the weekends. But, if we were at his Dad’s house, we could see him every night. I knew he was right. I needed to see him, and the kids needed to see him. So, up we went.

Since we were there, we decided to do some house hunting to help us get excited about the future. We began looking in St. Charles, Batavia and Geneva. Very beautiful communities, situated right along the Fox River. But, nothing struck us as home. Of the 15-20 houses we saw, they were all either too small, or over budget, most of them needed repairs, and all of them needed updating. It just was not doable for us.

So, we expanded our search the following weekend to South Elgin and Algonquin. And had basically the same results. There was one house I was so sure was the one. But, it was one of those houses that looks great in pictures, but in reality, needs so much work.

Every time we came back from looking (disappointed, I might add) his Dad would drop hints that we should look around where they lived. The cost of living was so much less there than in the city. Michael’s commute wouldn’t be terrible, an easy 60 miles on a three lane highway. After seeing so many houses within 30 miles of Elgin, we knew what we could get around there and we weren’t impressed. So, we agreed to talk to a realtor who was a member of Michael's Dad's church.

We met him at an open house he was hosting one Sunday. When we walked inside, I just started crying. It was the nicest place we'd seen in weeks. And, I felt my heart change in an instant. After talking with Michael some more, we decided to really look around that area. I saw quite a few houses that I really liked the following week.

I think part of my attraction was that the city kind of reminds me of my hometown, how I grew up. It isn't suburbia, but it isn't the country, either. That's what drew me to it. I finally felt peaceful about this move because I could see us living there. It would be hard, because we’d be even further from my family and our friends. But, there was peace.

And, Lord knows, that's what I was really searching for. That was the heart of all of my prayers. God, give me peace in wherever you lead us.

Part Two: Pray, Hope, and Don't Worry

Part Two:

That was probably the scariest moment of my life. One I never really expected, or prepared myself for.

Michael was laid off on June 30th. But, he couldn't bring himself to tell me over the phone, obviously. So, when he got word that he needed to pack his bags and fly home for the last time, he expanded his job search to anything within a couple hours from where we lived.

An old friend from college had a job posting up on LinkedIn. It was for a Civil Engineer position in Elgin, Il. He contacted his friend, and met him for dinner when he flew back to town the night before he came home.

After I stopped crying, he told me about everything he had done during the last few days, and that he had an in-person interview with this company in Elgin the following Tuesday. I cried some more because I knew, if he was offered this job, and accepted it, we would have to move. It was too far for him to commute every day. And, that was the whole point.

When he started this job hunt, our main focus was getting him home every night, so we could be a regular family. Without moving to IL, he would barely be home because of the awful commute - averaging 5 hours round trip every day. We wouldn’t really be any better off than we were with him in the oil fields.

I was heartbroken. When we moved back to Indiana in 2013, I had this dream of settling down into a new, full life. We would be close to friends, and extended family. We could step back into a community that was already there, waiting for us to come back. I was so excited about starting this new chapter. When we bought our house, it felt as though all the pieces finally fell into place.

But, that feeling only lasted for so long because life with three kids, 3 years old and younger is just hard. There’s no way around it. It got harder for me every time Michael came home. I was always preparing for him to leave again. And so were the kids. Our family life was slowly deteriorating right before my eyes, and I didn't know how to fix it.

Over the next few weeks, I tried not to think about the past or the future. I did what I usually do, and I buried myself in the immediate. Regardless of what happened with the job in Elgin, we knew we absolutely had to sell our house. He had applied for enough jobs in our area that we knew we would no longer be able to afford it. So, we patched holes, repainted rooms, shined floors, deep cleaned and decluttered. It took about 3 weeks to get everything ready.

Honestly, I was relatively peaceful about this process. Mostly, I attribute this to all of my prayers. But, it was also a fulfillment of a desire, in some ways. About a year before all this happened, I began reading a few blogs about minimalism. I felt a tugging in my heart. I cleaned, and decluttered, and donated the things we didn't need or use anymore. This helped a little.

But, anyone with small children knows that stuff just accumulates in your house. You don’t know where it came from, or how it got there. It’s like little fairies just bring stuff into your house while you are asleep. It’s a constant process to stay on top of all the people and things coming in and going out your door.

A while later, Pope Francis came out with his encyclical, Laudato Si, and I felt this tugging again. We owned too much; too much house, too much yard, too much stuff. What did we really need? I had no idea. But, I just felt funny about where we were at in our lives. I continued doing my best to get rid of the small things. But, even with all my efforts, I couldn't change the big things because we had just bought our house in 2013. We were stuck.

Really, we were mostly just stubborn (and scared!). Losing his job kind of forced our hand in giving it all up. And, I was at peace with that. A house is only a house. We won't take it with us when we die.

After a lot of work, we got it listed in mid-July. We had a few showings that first weekend, and we received a solid offer that Monday. After some negotiations, we had a signed contract within 7 days. Thank you, Jesus and Mary!

Part One: Pray, Hope, and Don't Worry

It was a mundane summer morning late in June. Michael had been gone for work for 10 days. The kids had become more restless, more upset, more discontent. I was frazzled, at my wits end with everyone. It was the usual cycle, all over again.

That morning, Chloe had gotten in trouble for something; I don't remember what. I'd put her in her room for time out. But, as usual, she followed me into my bedroom, screaming and crying.

"I just miss Daddy!"

My ears were deaf. I'd heard this line of reasoning too many times to count.

"I only did _____, because I miss Daddy!"

I'm sure, to some degree, it was true. I knew that they really did miss Michael. But, this had become *the* excuse in our house for every naughty thing they did. I never knew how to react, whether to validate or ignore their obvious anger that Daddy left for long periods of time. There was nothing I could do about it, that was his job. Validating them only made their behavior worse. Ignoring them made them feel like I didn't care about their feelings. A lose-lose situation.

So, instead of doing nothing, I yelled right back at her.

"You know what Chloe, if you miss him so much, you better start praying he finds a new job!"

And she got down on her knees right there in front of my crucifix, and started sobbing out a prayer. I don't remember what she said because I had tuned her out. That was all I could do in that moment.

This was not the peace I asked for seven months earlier.

It was Christmas time, presents spilled out from underneath our tree. Soft white lights lit up the front of our home, reflecting off the piles of snow, giving it a warm, welcoming glow. It should have been a joyous season.

But, inside I was falling apart. I was angry with Michael's job because it required so much travel.  I was exhausted from managing our family while he was gone. I felt desperate and hopeless, like I was failing our three kids because I had absolutely nothing left to give to them. Nothing.

I was out of ideas for fun things to do with them. I was in survival mode on discipline; meaning, it was rarely effective. The kids were running me over day in and day out.

Around this time in December, a few friends said they were going to pray to Mary Undoer of Knots for varying reasons. I thought to myself "Sure! What the heck, I'll do it." I begged Mary to undo this knot, to either give me peace, or give him a new job because I honestly did not know how I was going to survive.

Within a week of praying that novena, I felt a sense of peace and my strength renewed. I accepted our life as it was more deeply than I had before. I wasn't fighting it. I focused on doing it, doing our life, to the best of my ability.

Then, the New Year came, along with a lot of instability in the oil market. By the middle of the first quarter, Michael's company had already laid off many people in his same position, and issued sweeping changes in how they did business to save money. It was nerve-wracking.

Michael started applying for other jobs around where we live. Months went by and he received hundreds of rejections. It broke my heart. He is so smart, and works so hard to provide for us. I could tell that his ego was taking a beating, and he was starting to get really worried. More people had been laid off from his company. More changes were being implemented. And we were helpless, stuck in a mortgage that was more than we could afford without his income from the oil fields.

He had a few phone interviews in April and May. But, I never felt like those jobs were a good fit for him. He didn't understand why I was hesitant. They were jobs, he'd be home more, we would be able to pay our bills (barely). I told him repeatedly, “I'm praying for perfect.” And I was praying, desperately, that God would hear me, hear us; that He would give us a way to make all of these pieces fit.

So, we carried on. Days melting into weeks, and months. Michael came home from his shift on July 2nd, just a few days after Chloe's heartfelt prayer. It had already been a long, trying day. The kids awoke at 4:30 in the morning. Chloe had escaped from our house and walked to the neighbor’s at 6:30 in the morning. I was full of anxiety and trying to figure out how I could keep them all safe when he left again. I made up my mind that we would install security key locks high on all the doors since she could now open deadbolts.

When he finally got home in the early afternoon, I was completely spent. I started telling him about the day, and my fears about how I was going to keep the kids all safe when he went back to work.

He listened to me cry, but I could tell something was off. When I finally got it all out, he sat down next to me. He said he was really sorry it had been such a horrible day. He understood my fears, and said "But I'll be here now, since they've given me no choice."

A New Beacon

Ever since Pope Emeritus Benedict announced his resignation, I have prayed for our new Pope. I have prayed that the Holy Spirit would bless our Cardinals with the wisdom they need to choose the best leader for our church in these tumultuous modern times.

Honestly, I could not be more thrilled with Pope Francis. He is humble. He is socially conservative. He is wise. He is an intellectual, but not in a haughty way. He represents the growing majority of Catholics and the world's population.

USA Today writes that:

"Here is a pope who has contended with all the issues of the modern West — gay marriage, abortion, contraception, women's rights, the swelling tide of cultural secularism and global poverty. Yet he is also known for standing firmly for core doctrine like the doctrinaire popes John Paul II and Benedict XVI before him."

The National Catholic Reporter also writes that:

"[In 2005,] he appealed to conservatives in the College of Cardinals as a man who had held the line against liberalizing currents among the Jesuits, and to moderates as a symbol of the church's commitment to the developing world.

[He] drew high marks as an accomplished intellectual, having studied theology in Germany. His leading role during the Argentine economic crisis burnished his reputation as a voice of conscience, and made him a potent symbol of the costs globalization can impose on the world's poor.

Bergoglio's reputation for personal simplicity also exercised an undeniable appeal – a Prince of the Church who chose to live in a simple apartment rather than the archbishop's palace, who gave up his chauffeured limousine in favor of taking the bus to work, and who cooked his own meals."

I have to say, I don't really keep up on global affairs very well. I knew very little about the Argentine economic crisis, and even less about (then) Cardinal Bergoglio's role during it. But, the more I learn about him, the more I am filled with a tremendous hope. Add to that the fact that he chose the name Francis, which is littered with symbolism, and I am ecstatic. In his first appearance as Pope, he turned many traditions on their head.

In a Facebook status, Fr. J. Steele, a priest for the Diocese of Fort Wayne-South Bend, points out the importance of those first few moments. He writes:

"First, he takes the name Francis, which is pretty radical. Francis was a poor beggar and not even a priest. That is a huge departure from traditional thinking. Then he comes out on the balcony without the red and gold stole reserved for the beginning of the pontificate. The stole is the sign of priesthood. Wearing only the white cassock and cape, this is the equivalent of a habit. Then he bows before the people and asks for their prayers, calling their prayers a benediction. In other words, he reversed the role of priest and people. This is ground breaking. Then he describes the papacy as a ministry in fraternal charity, an ancient formula, but the humblest one--and one the Orthodox world accepts. In simple words and gestures, Francis I has turned the rituals around the pope's first appearance on their head."

Humility, simplicity, poverty; a man who is devoted to the people. A man in the image of Christ.

When we moved to Amarillo in 2009, the biggest reason for us choosing our current parish, St. Mary's, was Msgr. Waldo. After Mass in the gym, on a hot Sunday afternoon, Msgr. Waldo held a prayer service for all of the victims of sexual abuse within the church. On his knees, he prayed before the altar that God would bring peace to the victims, and have mercy on the Church. It was one of the most moving events I have witnessed. It is something I often reflect on because it shows a type of humility that is so foreign to our culture. He led us, his parish, in a service that called out to God for healing and reform. He called out for mercy. This is why I am so excited about Pope Francis.

My biggest hope for the Church is that we will return to our roots. That we can preach the Gospel through our example, being honest about our failings and triumphs. And, that through this honest, humble leadership, the entire Christian community will be unified.