Growing up Catholic, there were certain dates that were emphasized on a yearly basis. If we have the same background, and you’ve been paying attention, then you know December 8 is the feast of the Immaculate Conception; that famed day during which the Angel Gabriel approached Mary, told her that she’d been chosen to bear the Son of God, and all she had to do was accept this great and terrifying offer. Without hesitation, Mary replied “Yes.” Before, as they say, the rest is history, there are two other important aspects to the story of Mary and her infant Savior. First among them is that at some point she had to break the news to Joseph, her husband. We are told in the bible, and on the 2nd Sunday in Lent during the gospel reading, that Joseph, having never consummated his marriage with his wife, intended to divorce Mary quietly, to salvage her reputation as best as possible. This was his intention until God sent and Angel to Joseph in his dream, describing everything. Joseph also humbly replied “Yes” to God’s plan. Finally, January 6th is the feast of the epiphany, where among many blessings, Joseph is told in a dream of King Herod’s plan to eradicate all males born during the time of Jesus. By fleeing to Egypt the both avoid the impending death of Jesus, but also take the same route taken by Moses, a great prophet for the coming of Jesus.
So it is that on December 7th of 2012, having been married to my wife for less than 3 months, we learn of our first pregnancy. Sitting in our upstairs hallway in our Pig-Town rental – well past the moment at which our butts went numb – I alternated thoughts of “Holy Shit” and Thanks to Mary, given that I now could eagerly anticipate both her Immaculate Conception and my wife’s first conception. Finally able to string a few thoughts together, we called my mother-in-law. Fittingly, she was on her way to choir practice to prepare for the Mass of the Immaculate Conception the following day. We all held that frame of reference in our minds. We all cried. So many firsts abounded out of that phone call. A new generation on a tree. New Grandparents. New Parents. New feelings of understanding the power of the word “Yes.”
So also we find ourselves, on the 2nd of January of 2014, a four-month-old wedged between us as the next round of pregnancy test indeed shows that we’ll be sprinting down the line to determine whether or not we’ll have Irish Twins. As it turns out, we miss that label by 14 days. Nonetheless, we have our own brand-new set of thoughts to sort out as we enter the event of the Epiphany. My coming son’s birth was difficult to prepare for. Both my wife and I were ecstatic to have another opportunity to bring life into the world, but financially and emotionally we were woefully unprepared for the strain it would bring, and to tack it on we knew what everyone was going to say. Emerging out the other end of the tunnel, there could be no better brother for Quinn than Xavier; no better sister for Xavier than Quinn. There could be no better pairing for Carolyn and myself than Quinn and Xavier. As 4, we took a little break.
So it is that on December 1, 2016 we learn we’ll be adding another car seat to that mini-van we just bought sometime over the next summer. It is also fitting that as we enter the Cathedral of the Sacred Heart, both our baby and our concept of her still a seedling, we are destined to hear the comforting words of the tale of Joseph and his willingness to parent Jesus regardless of his knowledge that he is not his boy’s father. That Joseph is willing to put aside his anxieties and beliefs for the Will of God is supremely comforting to me in that moment. While I’ve always intended on having three children, and I’m beyond excited to realize that dream, I have my eyes wide open about its challenges. In that moment, I am willing to embrace both the blessing and the challenge. I am confident that my faith in God, my work ethic and my passion for my family will pave the way for whatever challenges we may meet to allow for God’s plan.
Over the course of the past year, that has certainly happened. Personally, professionally, within my marriage – my faith in God has put me in the places I’m needed in order to be the best father, husband, employee. The combination has resulted in a perfected vision of the Glory of God; that our faith is rewarded – that nothing we can do or have done can provoke God to rescind His Love for us. Knowing that frees me from allowing previous guilt to prevent me from future successes. In the past, I created failure in these arenas for myself based on guilt over previous failures.
My children have been the very best daily dose of that medicine. At the current moment, the five of us try as hard as we can every day to be the best support we can be for one another. Each of us falls short. Each of us forgives the others. We don’t always succeed at that immediately, either. We keep that in mind whenever we can. None of us get it all right the first time. We’re granted second chances by God’s forgiveness and the forgiveness we grant one another, and ourselves. Teaching forgiveness to small children allows me a simplified understanding of it myself. I need that perspective. I need the biblical anniversaries and observations. They remind me of the purpose and what I’m supposed to learn. This year, on Thanksgiving, I’ve expressed gratitude for many things. My gratitude for my children, and the person they’ve challenged me to be, just by existing, is life-changing.
So Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. May we all be reminded daily of the things for which we are most thankful, for the things that make us happiest, and for the things which propel us towards a better and brighter future.
Yours in the Pursuit of Happiness,