Author Archives: Robert Fletcher

About Robert Fletcher

I am the Senior Web Developer at Crosby Marketing.

Till Death Do Us Part

The following is an excerpt from the book It Is Well: Life in the Storm by Chris Faddis, shared with permission from the author and Carmel Communications. In his book, Chris writes about finding out on Easter Sunday 2011 that his wife Angela had terminal colon cancer. She died 17 months later at age 32, leaving behind her grieving husband and two young children. It Is Well is a story of grief, love, loss, and faith.

To purchase It Is Well, please visit http://itiswellbook.com.

I sat with Angela as much as I could, holding her hand, playing music and praying many prayers, yet I would find myself feeling very restless and anxious. There is no more helpless feeling than sitting by a loved one’s side waiting for them to die. I felt as
 if I should be doing something. To move away from the instincts
 of trying to help her live, of doing everything I could to fight
 this disease, towards suddenly giving up was painful and heart wrenching. I had discerned our decision to move Angela home with hospice care with the help of very knowledgeable friends who walked me through the process of making this decision. It was clear that Angela’s body was in the pre-active dying process, and that there really was nothing we could do to stop it. One friend posed the decision this way: “At some point it is time to surrender to God and if she is in the pre-active dying process, it might be that time to accept death.”

I was confident that we had made the right choice, but as 
I sat in her room, I felt helpless and useless. I would rethink my decisions and question myself. “Am I giving up too soon?” This wasn’t helped, of course, by a few well-meaning people who voiced that they thought I was giving up hope. So in my restlessness and uneasiness I would pace, find things to do and find myself getting frustrated. As I would come back into the room, I would look at Angela’s peaceful face, and I would realize that my only job was to just be present to her and to wait patiently with her for death. When I finally surrendered to this reality, that my only job was to just be present to her, I felt an incredible peace.

hands

Chris Faddis holding his wife Angela’s hand

One particular afternoon, just a few days before she died, I sat with Angela and held her hand as I read to her. She would occasionally look up and listen or smile. I would tell her how much I loved and cherished her and she would respond with a faint response. At one point she whispered, “I always knew you would cherish me to the end.” As she fell back to sleep, I looked down at our hands and her ring was missing. It had fallen off several times, as Angela was so frail that it was now too large for her finger. She had placed it on the table next to her bed. I picked up the ring
and placed it on her finger and held her hand again. I gazed upon our hands, reflecting on that ring and what it symbolized, on our hands and the symbolism of husband and wife walking hand in hand through life. I thought about the first time we held hands. It was on our first date to Cirque du Soleil. At one point Angela had moved her hand near mine and then gently touched my hand. I took her hand till the crowd erupted in applause and a standing ovation. Angela never admitted to holding my hand that night. She would say, “I did not hold your hand that night. I wasn’t ready.” 
I would laugh and remind her of the many things she did during that time of friendship – when she supposedly did not want to date yet – like lean on me, touch my hand, and even press her cheek against mine for a long time, as if to wait for a kiss. She would laugh at me and say, “Whatever, I was not that forward.” I then thought about when we did finally hold hands after we were “officially” dating. There is something remarkable about holding hands when you are falling in love.

Many people say it’s in the kiss that you know, or it’s love at first sight; I tend to think it’s in the hands. Holding hands was not always romantic, but holding hands was our constant connection to one another. Even when in an argument or a difficult conversation, we would often hold hands. When Angela was struggling with depression, I held her hands many times just to calm her, to soothe her, to help her feel supported. Angela, too, would hold my hand when I was having a hard day or down about my
job situation or our financial hurdles. A simple touch of her hand would instantly soothe me.

Through Angela’s cancer journey, holding hands had become our primary form of intimacy. Whether Angela was receiving chemotherapy, waiting for surgery or simply resting at home, we would spend lots of time holding hands, talking, praying and simply being present. As I held her hand during this seventeen-month journey, I would often squeeze and hold her hand very tight as I thought about losing her, as if I could somehow hold her tight enough to keep her from dying. Now sitting in our room as she lie in wait for death, holding her hand was literally all I had left. She could hardly speak or even acknowledge my words; I simply had to hold her hand to communicate my love and to be sure she knew she was not alone. Indeed, I would be there till the end.

As I thought about her hands, I also thought about that ring, the one I gave her as I asked her to be my bride and the ring that stood as a symbol of this life-long Sacrament of Marriage. With that ring came our promise to love one another fully and completely until death came for one of us. The wedding ring speaks of permanence, of commitment, of an unbreakable bond between a husband and wife. Yet that ring could not bind her any longer; it could not keep her from dying, and it certainly could not keep her from heaven.

As I sat in this moment, I wanted to capture our hands one last time. I took a picture that I later shared. It is the image of us holding hands with Angela’s ring as the focal point of the image.
 A week or so earlier I had verbally told Angela that she was free to go home. My words on that day were, “You took my hand and you have loved me well. When Jesus comes and offers you his hand, you are free to go.” After taking the picture of our hands I felt I should say those words again. So I wrote them down and then read them to Angela:

“Till Death”

As if I could keep you longer, I placed this ring back on your finger today. It had fallen off a few times.

Oh, that this ring could keep you here longer. It is a mark of our commitment; it is my promise to love you with my whole heart, and yet there is a love greater than mine that will take you soon. How could this mere piece of gold compare to the love of God, which loves you completely, wholly, and perfectly?

It cannot, so I will hold your hand a little while longer. I will keep putting this ring back on your finger. But when the time comes and He asks you for your hand, you are free to go. Go to that perfect love which makes all things new. Go and be whole again. For now, till death do we part.

This Is My Body

Did you know that marriage is the one sacrament that priests do not administer?

When I married Stacey 15 years ago, the priest led the ceremony and gave us cues as to what to say, but his role, in essence, was to witness—more properly, “to receive”—our vows to love each other till death. He stood as witness with the whole community of faith to hear us say those words to each other, and in the name of the Church he received and blessed what we had done.

This means that the true ministers of the sacrament of marriage are the spouses. I minister the sacrament of marriage to Stacey, and she ministers it to me. Not only did we minister the sacrament of marriage to one another on our wedding day, but we also ministered the sacrament of marriage to one another on the day after the wedding. And the day after that.

In fact, every action and behavior of our married life together is an expression of the sacrament of marriage. When I fill a hot-water bottle to heat the bed for Stacey on a cold night, I am ministering the sacrament of marriage to her. In another 40 years of married life, God-willing, when Stacey parses the week’s medications into daily segments for me, she will be ministering the sacrament of marriage to me.

When we are talking to couples preparing for marriage, this sounds like a beautiful vision and ideal. And it does transform the way we see the life we share together. On the inside, however—in the day-to-day, boots-on-the-ground reality of family life—love takes shape in messy, demanding, frustrating ways. It often feels like death by 1,000 cuts, and that is because love is sacrifice—it means giving yourself away for the good of another.

Sometimes I envy the martyrs who could give their lives to love in one final decision. Marriage presents me with 349 decisions to sacrifice myself every single day. It makes me wonder why anyone would choose this life. It seems like a small miracle that people go on marrying and raising children at all.

Certainly our culture does not value self-denial. Our economy is built upon consumption, and advertising and media barrage us with the idea that autonomy and status are paths to happiness. Love in marriage and family life is an emptying and a binding, and it stands in stark contrast to what we see on TV.

For someone looking for freedom, emptying and binding sounds like the last thing they could want. Yet, paradoxically, generations of faithful people have given themselves away in marriage and family life and found exactly that—freedom.

Freedom is a slippery word, especially in America. True freedom is the freedom to grow in goodness, to become the people we were created to be. And because we are created in the image of God, who is love, we are most truly ourselves, happy, and free when we love.

That is to say, we experience true freedom when we discover that we are becoming holy because we are offering love to our spouses and children. Our culture twists that notion to try to fool us into thinking that freedom is about the open road with a new Chevy Silverado, but that is just silly.

The good news is that we participate in the mystery of God when we love, and this brings us new life. Marriage and family life is a way for us to give our lives over to love 349 ways every day, and it gives us glimpses of heaven every single day, too. To see our children love one another, for example, is just a miracle. There is no way that on my own I can account for the magnitude of that kind of goodness.

Now I’m not saying that every moment in our household is accompanied by a chorus of alleluias. The bulk of our experience is filled with the mundane: getting kids to school, working, making dinner, doing dishes, cleaning the house, shopping for groceries, and so on. But I don’t know of any life that isn’t full of the mundane.

God wants to be discovered within our human experience, not in some abstract ideal. Stacey and I have certainly discovered the truth that marriage is a school for love—that we are working out our salvation with one another, helping each other get to heaven.

This is the kernel of truth behind what we discerned when we decided to get married—we knew that we were at our best together. I knew that a life with Stacey would make me a better person than I could become on my own. A decade and a half later, I’m utterly convinced of this fact—Stacey calls me to growth and encourages me to continue striving for perfection. I’ll never reach that perfection in this world, but sharing a life with her gives me a concrete way to pursue holiness.

As humans, we are tied to sense and corporeality—if we can’t see, smell, taste, touch, or hear something, it is difficult for us to grasp it. Marriage and family life allow us to experience love with our senses. Yesterday, for example, love smelled like toothpaste, steaming vegetables, strawberry-scented shampoo, and popcorn.

Though sex is a part of the physicality of love in marriage, it is a very small part. Mostly, we communicate and care for each other’s bodies—we wash children’s bodies, we feed each other’s bodies with shared meals, we transport bodies to and from school and work and activities, we nurse sick bodies back to health and help tired bodies rest. It was the same with Jesus—he made his body an instrument of love. He still does.

In fact, the Eucharist is the best way for us as spouses and parents to connect our 349 acts of love each day with the one act of love that God has given the world in his Son. We can say with the priest, who repeats these words from Jesus himself: “This is my body, given up for you.”

Married Saint: Bl. Ceferino Gimenez Malla

Born: August 26, 1861
Died: August 9, 1936 (aged 74)
Feast Day: May 4
Patronage: Romani and Sinti peoples

Born in Spain to a Catholic Romani (Gypsy) family, Ceferino Gimenez Malla (also known as “El Pele,” “the Strong One” or “the Brave One”) lived much of his early life as a nomad. As such, little is know about his upbringing.

At 18 he married Teresa Castro (also a Romani) in a traditional Roma ceremony. Their union was later validated by the Catholic Church in 1912. They were married for forty years until her death in 1922.  Though they had no children themselves, Ceferino and Teresa adopted her orphaned niece Pepita in 1912.

Ceferino and Teresa eventually settled in Barbastro where he worked as a horse trader. Known for his honesty and industriousness, he became a successful businessman and helped make peace among the Kalòs (Spanish nomads) and resolve their disputes with others. His natural goodness and virtue led him deeper into his relationship with Christ.

Although illiterate, Ceferino became a catechist, teaching the children about Christ through storytelling and exhorting them to pray daily. He became a daily communicant and was known for his special affection for the rosary. He became a member of the Franciscan Third Order, the Saint Vincent de Paul Society, and participated in night adoration.

In 1936, during the Spanish Civil War, Ceferino was arrested for defending a Catholic priest who had been arrested. Imprisoned at a local monastery and advised to give up his rosary in order to save his life, Ceferino fervently continued his prayers. On the day of his execution, As the firing squad prepared to kill him, Ceferino held his rosary and cried out, “Long live Christ the King!” He was executed for his faith along with other priests, brothers, and lay persons and buried in a mass grave.

Ceferino Gimenez Malla was beatified on May 4, 1997. In his homily for the beatification Mass, Pope St. John Paul II said

Ceferino Giménez Malla, known as “El Pelé” died for the faith in which he had lived. His life shows how Christ is present in the various peoples and races, and that all are called to holiness which is attained by keeping his commandments and remaining in his love (cf. Jn 15:11). El Pelé was generous and welcoming to the poor, despite his own poverty; honest in his activities, faithful to his people and his Gypsy race, endowed with an extraordinary natural intelligence and the gift of counsel. He was above all a man of deep religious beliefs.

Blessed Ceferino Gimenez Malla, pray for us.

On Relics and Romance

When my wife and I got married, we had the privilege of making a pilgrimage to Rome as our honeymoon trip. While in Rome, we saw a number of churches, but one in particular stood out to me: Chiesa del Gesu (The Church of Jesus; pictured right). In this beautiful old baroque church there is a unique relic: the forearm of St. Francis Xavier, the great Jesuit missionary. While visiting an altar with a body part on display may not seem too romantic for a date, let alone a honeymoon, it actually became one of the most romantic places of our honeymoon! Why? Because I realized before that altar that relics are an important cipher for understanding the vocation I embarked upon in marriage.

I admit that at the time of my visit I was “weirded out” by the presence of St. Francis Xavier’s forearm, and I was certainly not thinking at first about romance. But then as usual, God challenged my limited thoughts. As I prayed before the altar in Chiesa Gesu, I thought: “Why does the Church have altars with the body parts of the Saints? Is this some pagan ritual? Does this distract us or help us in loving Christ, to whom alone our worship is directed?” As I thought about it, I realized that this practice of venerating relics of a saint’s body is uniquely Christian, and that it does honor Christ. The key to understanding this ancient practice is to recognize that the Church honors the body – and by extension the body parts of the saints and certain items they touched – because of the Church’s belief in the Resurrection of the Body made possible by Jesus Christ’s own Resurrection. We honor the body parts of the Saints because one day their entire body will be glorified in the Resurrection of the Body. Their bodies are holy because they will give praise to God in Heaven. Thus, as I knelt before that altar in Rome, I came to understand that this practice of venerating bodily relics of the Saints is a witness to our belief in the Resurrection of Body, and that it chiefly points to Christ’s Resurrection, not away from Him.

Given this rootedness in the Resurrection, the altar enshrining St. Francis Xavier’s forearm reminded me of the purpose of my spouse’s human body – to be an everlasting temple of God. It is this recognition that helps guide marital romance: our bodies are temples of God by virtue of our baptism, and we are called to praise God in our bodies through virtue and the Sacraments (see Rom 12:1). Marital romance is called to be “romance within the Resurrection.” It is a romance that goes beyond simply asking whether or not a particular action violates a commandment given by God, like adultery or lust. It also asks every day whether or not this physical or verbal action treats my spouse’s body with the respect due to a “temple of God,” which it is in this life and the next. Therefore, far from drawing me away from Christ or the love of my spouse, the relic of St. Francis Xavier instead brought us closer by provoking the following questions: “Do I approach my spouse within the vision of God’s plan for our bodies, or do I disregard that plan because of laziness, selfishness, or ignorance? And am I treating my spouse with prayerful reverence as I would a bodily relic of a Saint?” Thus, while others were enjoying the beach on their honeymoon – which for the record we did later too – we were also blessed with romance in the most unlikely of all places, in front of a saint’s body part.

Want to strengthen your marital romance and vocation with your spouse? Then try praying before a relic of a saint! (Oftentimes a shrine to a particular saint will have a relic from that saint.) Before the relic, ask God to illumine both of your minds about the true nature of your bodies and how to treat your spouse’s body according to this divine destiny. Then keep learning about God’s divine plan for your marriage and recall this holy relic on many occasions to foster this awareness of our bodies’ destiny. Remember that we will always be learning about God’s plan for our marriage until the day we die, but let us with joy seek out this romance within the Resurrection, a romance that can even be found – nay especially found – before St. Francis Xavier’s forearm.

About the author
Daniel Meola is a PhD candidate at the Pontifical John Paul II Institute for Studies on Marriage and the Family in Washington, DC. He and his wife Bethany were married in May 2011.

Avoiding Wedding Photography Mishaps

A video on YouTube is making the rounds on photography websites and blogs. I decided to join the discussion here because it relates to photography in a religious setting.

In the video, a minister is leading an outdoor wedding ceremony. As he speaks, one can hear the sound of a camera shutter firing away. The minister abruptly turns his attention to the wedding photographer and videographer standing behind him. He tells them, “Please, sirs, leave. This is a solemn assembly. Not a photography session. Please move.”

The expressions on the bride and groom’s faces are of sheer horror, probably thinking about that huge check they wrote to have their special day recorded and photographed.

As the camera is removed from its tripod and the video loses its focus, the minister is heard ending his sermon to the photographers: “This is not about photography. This is about God.”

What a terrible ending to what should have been a magnificent, memorable day.

Who is to blame for this incident and how could it have been avoided? First, both the photographers and the minister share the blame.

As a Catholic press photographer, I have covered religious ceremonies and witnessed other photographers who seemed to operate with complete disregard for the sacred environment in which they were working. They see no difference between shooting a prayer service or a sporting event. Whether it is the attire worn inside a church (T-shirts, jeans, and tennis shoes or sandals) or the way he or she distracts the congregation by moving around at inappropriate times, unprofessional photographers can give their colleagues a bad reputation.

At the same time, some church officials (whether it’s a priest, sacristan or master of ceremony) need to understand the importance of capturing the moment for posterity. While covering the ordination of several priests at Milwaukee’s St. John the Evangelist Cathedral several years ago, I received an unpleasant look from the master of ceremonies. Apparently another photographer got on his bad side and he restricted my movement at the liturgy.

I’ve photographed weddings at churches and know that each priest or minister has his or her own opinions about wedding photographers. A photographer’s first task is to meet with the minister, ideally at the wedding rehearsal, and discuss limitations or concerns for taking photos. Priests are usually fine with photographers moving around the church to get the right shot, but some don’t allow flash photography. The use of a motor-driven camera, which sounds like a muffled machine gun, can also be a distraction and should be avoided in churches.

Catholic weddings, especially ceremonies that take place within the celebration of Mass, are indeed sacred, sacramental events. But this should not prohibit capturing the event on camera.

The outcome captured in this video should never have happened. The photographers and the minister could have prevented it if some preplanning had taken place. The obvious losers were the bride and groom.

About the author
Sam Lucero is news and information director for The Compass and a 30-year veteran of the Catholic press.

Re-posted with permission from The Compass, the official newspaper for the Catholic Diocese of Green Bay, Wisconsin. Original link here.

Loving Parents After Miscarriage

A friend who recently lost a child through miscarriage called to express disappointment that she didn’t know where to turn for the resources and support she and her husband so desperately needed. This heartbreaking conversation reminded me of another friend who miscarried a child at six months of pregnancy, but who masked her pain with a smile instead of reaching out for comfort. Though each experienced the deep pain of losing a child, neither received the loving support she deserved.

Sadly, their experiences are common. Though most miscarriages occur very early in pregnancy, often before the woman knows she is pregnant, as many as 15% of known pregnancies end in miscarriage. Our culture and even some church communities don’t always recognize this loss, leaving women or couples to deal with their pain alone.

Our witness to life must address the pain and grieving experienced by those who have lost a child. Just as we recognize the humanity of the unborn child lost to abortion, we must acknowledge equally the unborn child lost to miscarriage. “I see clearly that the thing the church needs most today is the ability to heal wounds and to warm the hearts of the faithful; it needs nearness, proximity,” Pope Francis said recently. As Catholics and people of life, we are called to draw close to these parents and provide care and comfort to their aching hearts.

So what can we do to help parents grieve their loss and witness to the gift of their child’s life? We can acknowledge their loss, support them as they grieve, and direct them to helpful resources. How do we do this?

First, don’t dismiss their loss with comments like “You’re young; you’ll conceive again soon,” or “You still have your other children.” Instead, make time to listen as they share their pain. Affirm their right to grieve. Offer your condolences and prayers, and ask if there is anything they need. Direct the parents to their parish priest, who can help them organize a memorial service, funeral or burial. The Order of Christian Funerals has prayers for a stillborn child, and the Book of Blessings includes a blessing for parents that can be administered by a priest or deacon after a miscarriage. Some blessings can even be adapted for use by a layperson.

Keep in mind that the father and mother may have different emotional needs. She might feel the loss more directly, or wonder if somehow she caused the miscarriage. She might prefer to talk things out with a friend. The father may need space to eventually feel comfortable sharing how the loss affects him, and may even need time to take his mind off things. He might need guidance on how to support the mother. Losing a child can drive parents apart, so the couple might need the reassuring love of a faithful community to keep close and stay together. Child loss or bereavement support groups at their parish or local hospital can provide support, as well as spiritual advice or counseling.

As members of the body of Christ, the Church, we are called to bear witness to the loss of every life, no matter how brief or small. Let us pray that our growing sensitivity to the loss of a child through miscarriage will better assist grieving parents and help them to entrust their child to God’s unfailing care and mercy.

About the author
Mary McClusky is Assistant Director for Project Rachel Ministry Development at the Secretariat of Pro-Life Activities, U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops. To learn more about the bishops’ pro-life activities, go to www.usccb.org/prolife.

Re-posted with permission from the USCCB Life Issues Forum.

The Family in Service of Life: An Adoption Story

Early married years

We were married on June 7, 1997. Three months later, we moved into our first home, an 1800 square foot historic house in Staunton, Virginia, a city of about 25,000 located in the heart of the Shenandoah Valley. It had four bedrooms – perfect for our plans of beginning a family. Rob was working as a youth minister and part-time high school teacher and Robin was the second grade teacher in the same Catholic school as Rob. In arranging our house, we thought that it was important to keep one room set aside as a perpetual guest room, open to receive whomever Our Lord might send to us. We felt that this was a room that should be preserved as such even when we began having our own children. Little did we know how abundant God’s plans would be.

After three years of marriage, it became clear to us that we were not able to have children. Several doctors could not find any obvious biological problems. We saw fertility specialists who finally said that the only hope for conception was in vitro fertilization – an option we were not willing to consider. We wanted the gift of children, but we did not want to manipulate and attempt to force a gift that Our Lord was not going to give us willingly.

Three children in a row

Then came the rush. Some friends of ours were on the board of the local foster unit of the Department of Social Services (DSS). They had a five-month old baby boy in their care who would eventually be free for adoption, once the parental rights had been terminated. But before they asked if we were willing to take in the baby, they warned us: the previous two families who were offered this child turned him down because of the extensive intestinal and brain damage he had suffered as a result of his birth mother’s illegal drug use. They thought he would likely not talk, not walk, and may eventually end up institutionalized. On April 21, 2000, Christopher was brought to our home. We never looked back.

In late June, we were approached again. This time, there were two little girls, five years old and nine months old. Would we be willing to accept them as likely adoptive children? Of course! So on July 8, less than three months after Christopher came to us, we were joined by Lisa and Lorianne. Our permanent guest rooms were now full, and we began to look for a larger home. In the meantime, Rob moved to a full-time teacher position at the school and Robin took a year off, providing after school care in our home as she began the all-important role of being mother to our three new children.

Another baby in need of a family

We did eventually move around the corner to an old Victorian house, giving us more space. For two years we continued raising our awesome children and doing our best to form them in the ways of the Church. In July of 2002, DSS called again. This time, they had an eleven-month old baby, the youngest of three who were removed from their family. They were expecting that after 3-4 months, the children would be placed back with their birth parents, once things had settled down. Samantha came to us unable to crawl, speak, make facial expressions, hold herself up, or even reach for things. Her initial doctor visit suggested that she might be paralyzed from the waist down, since she did not respond to any stimuli there. Her two other sisters, Shelby and Sabrina, were placed with another foster family. DSS did not want to place all three with us because they were concerned about the level of care that Samantha would require. All three girls had spent their days locked in a storage facility while their parents went to work. They were fed apple juice and Twinkies. Samantha just had apple juice and had lost weight since her eight-month checkup. We could see her bones, she was so thin.

Two more makes six

The next two years brought with them quite a trial. It was during that time that Christopher’s birth parents’ parental rights were terminated through a series of lengthy court hearings. Likewise, the legal process for Lisa and Lorianne came to a close. This allowed us to have the three kids baptized. Up until that time, we were not the permanent parents of them. Therefore, we could not reasonably promise (as is required at an infant baptism) to raise the children Catholic. Only after the adoption was finalized, were there no longer any obstacles to the responsibilities of Baptism. During these two years, it also became more and more evident that Samantha’s birth parents were not able to care for their children. The goal changed from returning the girls to their biological parents to moving them to a permanent placement. That permanent placement was with us. In the summer of 2004, then, our family welcomed Shelby and Sabrina, bringing us to a total of six children. Two years later, feeling a call to move to Robin’s hometown and wanting to start over as a forever family, we moved to Omaha, Nebraska. As we write this article, Lisa (18) is a freshman in college. Lorianne (14), Shelby (13), and Sabrina (12) attend a Catholic school here in Omaha. Christopher (13) and Samantha (11) attend a Catholic special needs school in town. Rob is actually the principal of this school, and Robin works for the Family Life Office of the Archdiocese of Omaha.

Lessons from adoption: difficulties and blessings

Along the way, we have had some trials and some great joys. One question we decided to settle very early on was about communicating the facts of their adoption to our children. From the time they entered our home, they knew that we were their “forever parents” (adoptive parents) and they came from their birth parents. We worked hard to make it clear that their birth parents loved them, but were not able to care for them. We taught them that God brings tremendous good out of bad situations, and that is how we became a family: a family that God put together from painful situations, a family called to bring healing and joy to one another and everyone we meet. As the kids would age, we disclosed more and more information about their previous situations to the extent that they could understand. About twice a year we do Google searches for their birth parents. Twice, these searches revealed deaths: Christopher’s birth mother had committed suicide in an overdose, and Samantha, Sabrina, and Shelby’s birth mother had died of an illness. We told our children and worked through the grief and conflicting emotions with them. We have remained very open about their respective situations. At first, we had a fear that if we told our children too much, perhaps they would want their birth parents instead of us. This fear faded over the years, as the love and trust in our family deepened.

The difficulties that come from adopting out of foster care are certainly present. When children are ripped from their birth parents (even if the birth parents are not doing their job well), they are hurt in the process. There is no doubt about it. That pain enters into the adoptive family, and God is calling on the new family to be the method of healing. For us, this meant helping our children deal with permanent brain damage, severe learning difficulties, epilepsy, attachment issues, major depression, and even suicide attempts. If you would have asked us back in 1997 if were ready for all that, we would have said, “No way!” But Our Lord provided the grace, the people to help, and the love to bring healing not only to our children, but to us as a couple as well.

The joys of adopting, however, far outweigh any difficulties. These joys are no different, perhaps, than any other family who gave birth to their children. We will say, though, that our children, maybe because of their origin and adoptions, have a tremendous heart for anyone who is downtrodden, suffering, or poor in any way. They are very quick to reach out and want to help those in need – those who stand in the same position they once stood. Seeing this is for us one of the greatest joys of adopting: our own children seeking to show the generosity that they were shown.

The family is called to serve life

In his apostolic exhortation Familiaris Consortio (The Role of the Christian Family in the Modern World), Bl. Pope John Paul II named “serving life” as the second of four tasks of the family. God did not give the Lairds the ability to serve life through procreation and birth. Instead, He gave us the gift of serving the lives of those children He placed before us, and we are ever grateful for this gift. It has created our family and has transformed us as persons.

For families considering adoption, we have this to say: If Our Lord places the desire in your hearts, then go for it! All the difficulties begin to fade away when your brain damaged son throws a touchdown pass in the Special Olympics, or your daughters give money for less fortunate classmates to buy snacks after school, or your oldest daughter seeks a profession to help those who struggle to overcome the difficulties she once faced. Our family is not perfect, far from it. But in the end, the family that God put together has helped each of us follow Him more closely. And isn’t that the mission of the family?

About the authors
Rob and Robin Laird, pictured above with their children, were married on June 7, 1997. Rob is the Principal of Madonna School, a Catholic school serving students with special needs, and Robin is the Coordinator of Marriage and Family Ministries for the Archdiocese of Omaha. They currently reside in Omaha, Nebraska with their six children, Lisa, Lorianne, Christopher, Shelby, Sabrina, and Samantha.

Loving – And Liking – Your Spouse

“I love my husband, but I don’t like him.” That’s a comment I often hear in my couples mediation practice and as a facilitator at a Fight Less, Love More couples course. Over the years, I discovered something interesting: Many people are kinder to strangers than they are to their spouses.

The “liking” feeling often diminishes as everyday job stress, parenting decisions, financial woes and child-induced sleep deprivation take over.

When overwhelmed by life, small things may seem like “the last straw,” and you might even wonder if you are married to the right person.

People assume that as an expert I have a perfect marriage. The truth is, I do have a happy marriage and I love my husband, but still, we have our good and bad days that strain the liking feeling. Conflict is normal for all couples, but how we choose to respond to it will either strengthen or weaken the relationship.

Here’s a revealing personal story:

One day, my husband told me he’d be home from work earlier than usual.

I put his early arrival time into my afternoon schedule so my then-2-year-old son and I would be home to greet him, and enjoy some playful “Daddy time.” When my husband’s designated arrival time passed, each additional minute pushed me into a worsening mood. At 50 minutes past his planned arrival, I was furious. Why wasn’t he here? Why wasn’t he answering his cell phone?

My husband showed up more than an hour after I expected him, displaying a freshly trimmed head of hair, smiling and acting like nothing had happened.

“So you got a haircut?” I asked.

“Yes, I had time today, so I figured, why not?”

That was it. I ripped into what seemed to me to be his thoughtless selfish behavior and the fight began.

But minutes later, reality hit. In our pre-child days, I would have been more understanding and explained how I felt about his late arrival. Now, with my energy drained, I acted as if his haircut was akin to finding out he cheated on me with his hairdresser.

Our Best Selves

We are our best selves early in our relationship. We show each other empathy, respect and patience. As time passes, we come to expect those things from our spouse, but we tend to extend them less and less. Use of the words “thank you” and “please” become sparse, replaced by words like “You have to…” and “Why didn’t you…”, which are set-up comments for a fight. So what can a person say to prevent such unnecessary battles?

The answer is to stop and ask yourself one question when you feel dissatisfaction and anger erupting: “What do I want my spouse to do differently next time?” In my situation, I wanted my husband to call me in advance to tell me that his plans had changed.

As soon as I realized my short-tempered mistake, I apologized, explained that I got angry because I value our time together and had planned around his early arrival, and most importantly, I asked for what I wanted (advance notice). Interestingly, my husband was flattered to learn that I was looking forward to his coming home early. Our five-minute conversation ended with the agreement that if his plans changed, he would call immediately. So my advice for couples who want to love-and-like their mate for a lifetime is: Don’t focus on the problem. Do focus on the solution to prevent it from recurring. A little wisdom makes a big difference.

About the Author
Laurie Puhn is a Harvard-trained lawyer, couples mediator, relationship communication expert and bestselling author of Fight Less, Love More: 5-Minute Conversations to Change Your Relationship without Blowing Up or Giving In. She has partnered with Family Dynamics Institute to develop the Fight Less, Love More Course now offered throughout the United States and recommended as a resource for married couples on the USCCB website For Your Marriage. Click here for course information. Find Laurie online at fightlesslovemore.com.

Married Couples and the Challenge of Military Service

You are about to enter a union which is most sacred and serious, an image of Christ and the Church.” Generations of couples heard those words of the Exhortation Before Marriage found in the ritual for the Sacrament of Marriage as celebrated before the Second Vatican Council. Indeed, from the very beginning, Almighty God endowed the union between man and woman with a mission and blessed their commitment to each other. The Lord Jesus Christ raised that union to a sacrament and entrusted to Christian married couples the duty to mirror the love of Christ for his Church.

The calling to the Sacrament of Matrimony is so noble, yet it is currently challenged on many fronts, especially for military families in this time of war, deployment, and suffering. The active-duty chaplains who serve our men and women in uniform and those who minister in the hospitals of the Veterans Health Administration will confirm that one of the most serious by-products of the wars in the Middle East are the burdens placed on families. These burdens are a price that we will pay for generations to come. The weakening of matrimony and family life that results ultimately weakens our society and jeopardizes our future.

Post-Traumatic Stress

Certainly, a significant factor causing the pain that a marriage experiences after deployment is post-traumatic stress. Many of those who have served in the war zone suffer from this stress, which is related to traumatic experiences. However, some have speculated that almost everyone who has served in a war zone has suffered or suffers from some degree of post-traumatic stress.

Post-traumatic stress is not a new problem. Since the Civil War, various expressions have been used to describe the changes that affect a member of the military who has seen combat. “Shell-shocked” was the expression used after World War I, and “battle fatigue” was used after World War II.

What are the symptoms? Sufferers might have distressing recollections, nightmares, and flashbacks to events in the war zone. They may have seen comrades violently killed. They may have experienced an explosion at close quarters. They try to keep the event from their minds and at the same time avoid activities that used to bring them pleasure. They can feel detached and unable to love anyone. Sleep may become a challenge, which results in increased irritability, outbursts of anger, and an exaggerated concept of how much vigilance is necessary. It all stems from a lack of trust, because trust has been betrayed. If one or more of these symptoms persist longer than a month or two, then the person is clearly suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder.

It is not hard to imagine the effects on the sufferer’s family. After having experienced the hardship of separation, they find themselves reunited with a spouse who seems like a stranger to them. Tension can result from the simplest situations of everyday life. Misunderstandings are common. The communion of life, which describes marriage, suffers considerably.

For a variety of reasons, many of those who are afflicted do not seek help. Many might still be on active duty and are therefore reluctant to admit their need. They may fear discharge, which in the current economic situation could easily mean unemployment. Others, no longer on active duty, may worry about possible harm to their post-service career. Many, too, do not realize that they have been changed. They are unaware that something has happened. As is so easily the case, they blame the tension in their marriage on their partner.

Tours of duty in the war zone vary according to service and responsibilities, but no tour is easy for anyone. During my visit to Iraq during Holy Week, I was overwhelmed by the appreciation of those deployed there. I met the men and women who patrol hostile areas, those who care for the wounded, and those who are in positions of command. Their patriotism is obvious, but the weight of the separation from loved ones and the uncertainty of the future cannot fail to increase their burden.

By all accounts the situation in Afghanistan is worse. There, the men and women in uniform are being killed on routine journeys, victims of roadside bombs planted by an invisible enemy. Hundreds of injuries send the combatants home and affect families for the rest of their lives.

Yet back home, life must go on. The children must be educated, the family must be cared for, and decisions must be made. It is true that electronic communication is much better than ever before. The Internet allows frequent contacts. Many military installations have systems in place that allow parents to read to their children on a DVD that is then transmitted home, and other wonders of modern communication function well. Yet that is never the same as being there. Twenty-nine years of living far from loved ones made that lesson very clear to me.

The Economy and Other Tensions

It is true that the present economic situation does not have a direct effect on the military, in the sense that military personnel are not being let go. They experience no problems with unemployment themselves. However, they do experience all the other effects of an economic downturn. Spouses who work in the private sector may well have lost jobs. Frequent moves make spouses’ employment opportunities more precarious. Many enlisted personnel come from more challenged economic situations. They may be supporting many others, including extended family. That responsibility makes their limited incomes a greater hardship when the demands increase.

Deployment also means that a spouse becomes a single parent with all of the challenges that situation entails. The possibility that the condition may become permanent in the case of death in the line of duty also adds to the tension already present in the individual in the military, his or her spouse, and the family.

These tensions cannot fail to have their effect on the military family. Despite all of the military’s efforts to support family life, to give couples and families time together after deployments, and to recognize the strain provoked by the war, the incidence of divorce in military families is on the rise. Some extreme situations have involved homicide and suicide. In the face of separations and the pain of post-traumatic stress disorder, it is challenging to live the communion of life and love intended and blessed by Almighty God.

Reentry into Society

Certainly all of us, military and civilian, can help by our prayers and by our eagerness to welcome home the military personnel who return home to our cities and neighborhoods. We can also perceive their needs and try to offer some assistance in that complex process of reintegration into the family and society. We all contribute to making favorable the conditions that support matrimony as the sacrament of enduring love.

Could that not also mean “turning down the volume” in our society? One of the most striking changes that I have noticed in returning to the United States after years of residence abroad is the abrasiveness of our discourse. People from all sides of the political spectrum write and speak without any attempt at civility, courtesy, or those virtues that once defined a lady or a gentleman. Being convinced that my belief is correct is not an excuse to shout at my neighbor, call him names, or question his sincerity. If we, as Catholics, can remember to treat everyone with kindness and strive to keep uppermost in our minds the fact that every person is created in the image and likeness of God, we can render the Gospel more accessible to our world.

I am not certain if the violence and the abrasiveness so often seen on the television or heard on the radio reflect the condition of our society or if they are partial sources of it, but it is clear that each one of us can make a difference. Inaction is not a worthy response. A more serene society would also contribute to the returning veteran’s tranquility and ease.

Medical care and rehabilitation are indeed responsibilities of the Armed Forces and the federal government. However, I submit that we, as Catholics, have a duty to make our contribution to the psychological and spiritual rehabilitation of these brave young men and women who have sacrificed so much for their country. It is not even a question of agreeing with or sharing the political views of those who fostered the war. It is simply a question of responding to the moral imperative of the Gospel.

We can make a difference in our parish communities by seeking out returning veterans and trying, as a community, to help them reenter society and the rhythm of life in the United States. They may be strangers to their family. They have lost trust. They have been shaken by the atrocities of war. They need time to refamiliarize themselves with those dearest to them.

Marriage is indeed a union most sacred and serious. It is a wonderful gift to the Church and to society. Like all precious gifts it must be cared for, supported, and sustained.

This material was originally developed as a resource for Catechetical Sunday 2010.

About the document
The document Married Couples and the Challenge of Military Service was developed as a resource by the Committee on Evangelization and Catechesis of the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops (USCCB). It was reviewed by the committee chairman, Bishop Richard J. Malone, and has been authorized for publication by the undersigned.

Msgr. David J. Malloy, STD
General Secretary, USCCB

For more support for military marriages, please visit For Your Military Marriage.

Married Saint: St. Elizabeth of Hungary

ElizabethofHungary Born: 1207
Died: 1231
Feast Day: November 17
Patronage: Bakers, beggars, brides, charities, dying children, Secular Third Order of Saint Francis

St. Elizabeth of Hungary was born in 1207 to King Andrew II, King of Hungary, and Gertrude of Merania. The daughter of royalty, she was soon arranged to be married to Lugwig IV of Thuringia and was sent for education at the court of the Landgrave of Thuringia. She was four at the time, and Ludwig was eleven.

Two years later, in 1213, Elizabeth’s mother was murdered. Though this was a difficult time in her young life, she turned to prayer and found support in her future mother-in-law, Countess Sophia. Sophia instilled in Elizabeth religious values and deep personal piety.

At age 14, in 1221, Elizabeth and Louis were married. Their marriage was an exceptionally happy union that produced three children. One biographer wrote that Elizabeth “was an extremely warm, affectionate person…From a very early date there was between them a love more intimate than that experienced by many couples who have been married for a long time.”

Louis understood his wife’s piety and placed no obstacles in her way. The two spouses, says the biographer, “were in agreement with respect to the most profound things that can unite human beings, that is, the things of God.” Elizabeth’s acts of charity were already well-known, as she distributed alms throughout the territory and established a hospital near the castle.

After six years of marriage, Elizabeth’s world was shattered when Louis died of the plague en route to the Sixth Crusade. On hearing the news, Elizabeth was reported to have said, “It is to me as if the whole world died today.”

During her brief widowhood, Elizabeth came under the influence of the Franciscans and learned to love voluntary poverty. In 1228 she joined the Third Order of St. Francis, also known as the Secular Franciscan Order, the lay branch of the Franciscan order. St. Francis of Assisi sent her a personal message shortly before his death. In his spirit, Elizabeth gave her dowry proceeds to the poor and ministered with the sick and needy.

She died in 1231 at the age of 24. She was canonized in 1235.

St. Elizabeth of Hungary, pray for us.