two returns

a return to the blog and a return to well-being

It has been a rather long and unplanned hiatus, but I have decided to revisit the blog.  This time I have a focus, a narrower focus.  Over the past couple of years, I have been doing quite a bit of research about nutrition and how it relates to the brain, a lot of soul searching and focusing on my well-being.  It may sound selfish or even impossible, a mother of seven focusing on her own well-being, but nothing could be further from the truth.  In reality, the Soul of any home is in so many ways shaped by the well-being of Mother.
 
A grumpy mother, makes for resentful and grumpy children.  A Mother with mood-swings leaves her children bewildered and even afraid.  A short-tempered mother will find her children equally short-tempered and gradually dismissive of her anger.  And, a mother who is frequently grumpy, plagued with mood-swings and clouded with an inexplicably short temper may find herself sitting alone in a green-cushioned, cherry wood rocking chair in her bedroom crying even though she is seemingly living the life she had long ago fashioned in prayer.  A life that is full, fruitful, and without any genuine poverties.

And so that is where I found myself one day a few years ago.  In my mind, wondering why I was crying, what was the source of this sadness and discontent, pondering the loss of the even, easy going, fun-loving Mama I had been for so long.  I felt confused, lost and pitiful sitting in that rocking chair weeping.  My husband tried, but could offer no consolations and was as bewildered as I.  Something had to be done, there had to be an exit from this downward spiral and it seemed to me that I was the one who had to find a path back to joy and away from this silly, but very real, discontent.

Thus it began.

I forced myself to resume a neglected prayer life; some days that prayer was just a simple Ave muttered in a desperate moment, other days it was more disciplined.  Just the act of intentionally fixing my mind on prayer again gave a glimmer of hope, something to grasp. And then, just now and then, a little spiritual reading.  Reading the life of Blessed Azelie, mother of St. Therese of Lisieux  laid out for me a clear profile of the motherhood and wife I wanted to emulate and offered me much encouragement. (Indeed, when my fifth daughter was born earlier this month, I insisted we give her the middle name Azelie in honor of my beloved heavenly intercessor and confidante.)

Prayer wasn't enough to heal all that ailed me, but I believe it was prayer that opened my heart to follow a path that has brought me so far from that sad afternoon in the green-cushioned cherry wood rocking chair.