We are so blessed.

Almost 3 years ago, we sat and posed for these pictures, our engagement pictures. We were about to embark on the journey of a lifetime and we were thrilled. 

Just a few weeks ago, I was sitting on the couch in our living room with Michael, looking at a framed collage of our favorite pictures from this photo shoot. And, all of a sudden, I was just overcome with this feeling of God's mercy and His numerous blessings on us.

When these photos were taken, we had no idea what our "yes" would mean for our future together... We had no way of knowing that three years later, we would have two babies under the age of two; or that we would have bought a home that needed to be completely demoed and remodeled; or that my family would have moved down here with us; or that my Mama would finally get a good job she will enjoy...We were just excited to be there, to be on the brink of entering a new phase in our individual lives, and at the very beginning of our adventure together as a newly married couple.

When I think back to what my biggest worries and fears were at this moment in our lives, it all seems almost silly: graduating college, planning a wedding, moving 1000 miles away from the only place I'd ever called home... then I was worried about finding a job and we started looking at, and ended up buying, our home. And then time stopped when we found out we were expecting the first little peanut. 

Or, it seemed to stop anyway. For the first time in a very long time, I had to come to grips with the fact that my life was not my own; that no matter how neatly we laid our plans, God stepped in and basically said, this is what's best for you. I was absolutely terrified. And thrilled. And just, emotional, really (pregnancy does that... :]). And, now that the second little peanut is on the way, I only feel overwhelmingly blessed. 

When I was sitting with Michael the other day, looking at those engagement pictures, I thought of those initially terrifying moments. And, I felt so grateful. Seven years ago, my doctors had told me that I was entering menopause (at seventeen!!) and, there was a possibility I would never be able to have children. And, here we are today, with a perfectly healthy and happy baby girl, and a little baby boy on the way. 

It really made me stop to think about all of the ways God has blessed us. He has healed me enough that we have been able to start our family. He has given us both good jobs so we can provide for ourselves. He has blessed us with a house that we have turned into our home. When I was rear-ended last December, we received enough between the two settlements that we were able to purchase a new car and pay off one of our student loans. He has provided for our every need, without us even realizing it sometimes. And, I know that with all of these big changes and adjustments that still lay ahead of us, I haven't been especially grateful sometimes. I'm scared and worried about almost everything.

But, here again, God gave me a glimpse of hope, something to hold on to, at Mass this past Sunday. The 2nd reading was from Phillipians 4:6-9:

      "Have no anxiety at all, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, make your requests known to God. Then the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. 

        Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.

       Keep on doing what you have learned and received and heard and seen in me. Then the God of peace will be with you."

It just hit me like a really hard punch to the chest: Have no anxiety at all. It's such a high standard for us to try to live up to. And not an easy one for me, because by my nature I am an avid worrier. But, here it is, laid out by Paul, simple and straightforward. God does not want us to be worried -- He wants us to lay those worries at His feet and be at peace. 

From now on, when Iook at those pictures, I will remember this moment as a turning point. Even though the future is uncertain right now, and we don't really know what lays in store for us down the road, I will hold on to Paul's words. I will remember that God wants to share that peace with me, if only I let Him in.

W.H. Auden

From: "In Memory of W.B. Yeats"

...Follow, poet, follow right
To the bottom of the night,
With your unconstraining voice
Still persuade us to rejoice.

With the farming of a verse
Make a vineyard of the curse,
Sing of human unsuccess
In a rapture of distress.

In the deserts of the heart
Let the healing fountains start,
In the prison of his days
Teach the free man how to praise.

When I was first introduced to Auden, almost two years ago, I did not immediately fall in love with his work. I did not realize the vast societal norms -- set by other poets like Ezra Pound and T. S. Eliot -- he was working against and attempting to break open. I also vastly underestimated the impact he would have on my own self later on down the road.

The three-part poem above is Auden's tribute to W.B. Yeats, the Irish poet who fell into eternal sleep on January 28, 1939. Yeats masterfully combined Irish folklore with popular knowledge throughout his poetry. This, in part, is why he is still the Irish poetry giant. No one has since united the Irish people in the same way that Yeats was capable of doing. His poetry is powerful, sentimental and melancholy. And, whether you know it or not, his poetry has become the basis for many recent popular novels and movies.

Auden felt it was important to honor this poetry giant, much like Beat poet Allen Ginsberg wrote a tribute to Walt Whitman. However, Auden did not only honor Yeats, he honored the idea of the poet itself. He layed out the prescription for what he believed the poet's role should be in society.

It's a weighty thing -- hope. But this is the charge that Auden levels against all poets. If you began reading Whitman's free form poetry and continued through the post-modern age, you'd see the vast shift in temperament and the overwhelming sense that the world is falling apart around the 1910s -- right around the start of WWI. But, Auden doesn't emphasize the fragments, he looks for wholeness, for hope.

In the deserts of the heart

Let the healing fountain start,

In the prison of his days

Teach the free man how to praise.

I am alone in this world...

I've realized that it has been quite a while since I last wrote. And, although I have had no new moments of epiphany, or ecstasy, regarding my writing, I do have this to say.

I am a lover of the written word. I believe that, as Sven Birkerts warns in The Gutenberg Elegies: The Fate of Reading in an Electronic Age, we are losing a large part of our culture and our heritage to all forms of New Media. The sacred act of reading has been undermined. Birkerts writes, "the world we have known, the world of our myths and references and shared assumptions, is being changed by a powerful, if often intangible, set of forces. . . . What is at issue is not diction, not syntax, but everything that diction and syntax serve. Which is to say, an entire system of beliefs, values, and cultural aspirations." I must say, that I agree with Birkerts wholeheartedly. As a society, we have lost the dedication to slow ourselves down enough "to concentrate on prose of any density." And, not only prose, but any of the Great Works. 

I'm in three different English classes this semester, meaning that I have very little time to continue with my own personal reading or writing for enjoyment. My favorite class is my Twentieth Century Poetry class. In this class, I have learned that I do not pay near enough attention to the details presented by a poet. I really have to force myself to concentrate, to focus, and to decipher what is being said. I must take into account the poet, his life story, the time frame he lived in, changes he experienced, what time the actual poem was written, and what historical factors were working on it. I have also learned that I do not have a strong enough knowledge of any major mythical figures. Perhaps, if I had payed more attention in previous years, this knowledge would be part of me, living and breathing within my very bones. 

Although I greatly fear that within the next thirty years hard cover and paper back books might be all but forgotten, I am very well aware of the fact that reading literature, serious literature, is an important aspect of my life that I will never forget. And, it is a tradition that I will pass on to my own children, not simply for nostalgic purposes. Reading is essential because it develops a person's very ability to reason, and think logically about any specific situation. The act of writing, and writing coherently so that another human being will be able to follow a logical train of thought, is one of the most difficult tasks to overcome. But, it is necessary.