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Y'all Need Jesus

Two Catholic moms. One faith.

Tag: Gigafactory

Baby, You Can Drive My Car
Catholic · Faith

Baby, You Can Drive My Car

July 31, 2017 susananthony1Leave a comment

  Dear Anne, As I wrote to you before, the revolving door that is my children’s comings and goings has landed one out west, working for Tesla in Nevada. That’s how I found myself Friday in the lobby of Tesla’s Gigafactory 1, waiting for the friends and family tour and feeling like I was in a… Continue reading Baby, You Can Drive My Car

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InstaAdvent day 3: Sound on! These ladies are giving it their all to raise money for the #salvationarmy Take a cue from their heart for the needy and make a donation to your favorite charity! #givingtuesday #catholiclife #bhadvent19
InstaAdvent Day2: It’s time to pull out those #wintercoats and when you do, check for the outgrown or the otherwise gently used to donate. Let’s keep our neighbors warm and cozy this winter, too! (If you live in Florida, ignore this PSA and send on those coats you don’t need anymore! 😂 #bhadvent19 #coatdrive
InstaAdvent day 1: Today is the first Sunday of Advent and in the Church we bust out the #purple vestments. But it’s a cold rain here today and I like this memory of my purple summer flowers! #bhadvent19
joining in the fun! #bhadvent19
The nice thing about the empty nest is that when the birds who flew it marry, you gain not only a child-in-law, but a whole new extended family. And if you are lucky, a little bit of crazy, too. We were blessed to be included in my daughter-in-law’s family Thanksgiving and it was just the sort of loud, slightly angst-ridden, messy but loving holiday this only-child’s heart embraces. If you have a Hallmark movie family who never raise their voices and who can have family game night without threat of a restraining order, that’s wonderful. While it’s probably very healthy it’s a bit bland for my taste. Maybe it’s my southern upbringing—crazy relatives are not just tolerated, they are expected. Maybe it’s being a mom of three boys—nothing is peaceful in a house that’s 4:1 male. But I embrace the crazy, the ones who laugh at inopportune moments, the ones who drink a bit and the ones who love so hard that sometimes it comes out all wrong. If you don’t have a brother-in-law who hits the White Claw a little too hard or a hard-of-hearing granny who shares tales of gastrointestinal distress at an embarrassingly high decibel level, you might have a more calm holiday, but I think you are missing out. So your cousin can’t stop throwing the dog’s toy and it riles up the pooch so much he spills the wine. Right in your lap. So your overly-enthusiastic-evangelical great-aunt keeps trying to sell Jesus like that used-car guy on late-night public access TV. To me, a little chaos and angst is the spice in the family dinner. (And it makes for much better stories later!) Give me a family that comes together with a lot of “I love you” but a little “I love you but you drive me crazy” thrown in. It’s easy to love when everything is perfect and calm, but it’s real when you love your people despite their foibles, despite their failings, despite their crazy. And when all else fails, distract Granny with a hug and ask your brother-in-law to pass the White Claw. #thanksgiving #thanksgiving2019 #family #crazy #funindysfunctional #catholiclife #whiteclaw
The young man was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the New York street, curled over, his head nearly touching the sidewalk. His backpack was several feet away near a building, as if he set it down with a thought to rest there, but the chemical rushing in his veins took hold and he simply sat down and slept. He was listing to one side; I could see he couldn’t have been more than 25, probably younger, about the age of my youngest son. I immediately thought of his mother. Did she even know where he was? Did every phone call put her on an emotional seesaw of hope and dread? Was she numb with grief but had to keep moving forward for the sake of other children? So many mother’s hearts are breaking as the opioid crisis takes its toll. But so many other mothers are burdened with the pain of their own personal “prodigals”. A woman I know recently shared that her 30-something son doesn’t speak to her—and she has no idea why. Murmurs of sympathy went through our group, and some nods of recognition of shared pain. One woman patted her hand and said, “We’ve all been there. Maybe not the same way, but we’ve all hurt for a kid.” She shared that her daughter had seethed with anger in her 20’s, making dangerous choices, before realizing her problems came from inside herself, not the world. My friend said at the time all she could do was pray and love her daughter from afar. The story offered hope yes, but also the comfort that we do not carry our burdens alone. Today is the memorial of St. Frances Cabrini, who tended to the needs of New York’s immigrant Italian community near the turn of the 20th century, a time of chaos and poverty in the city. The substances and temptations that plague us today might not be the same as in her day, but I am sure she would recognize the pain and isolation and despair they bring. So I ask Mother Cabrini to pray for this young man, lost on the same streets she tended more than a century ago. And I ask her to intercede for all our prodigals, no matter how they might be lost. #mothercabrini #motherhood #stfrancescabrini #homeless #prayer #firstamericansaint **Stock photo**
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