Come as you are

Of all the hymns ever composed, this has to be one of the most tender and comforting expressions of God's love I have ever heard.

Come as you are

Come as you are, that's how I want you.
Come as you are, feel quite at home.
Close to my heart, loved and forgiven;
come as you are, why stand alone?

No need to fear, love sets no limits.
No need to fear, love never ends.
Don't run away, shamed and disheartened.
Rest in my love, trust me again.

I came to call sinners, not just the virtuous.
I came to bring peace, not to condemn.
Each time you fail to live by my promise,
why do you think I'd love you the less?

Come as you are, that's how I love you.
Come as you are, trust me again.
Nothing can change the love that I bear you.
All will be well, just come as you are.

(composed by Deidre Browne)

When I first started posting these hymns, my sister asked why I didn't check out some of the other Christian churches in the area. It has taken me a long time to answer her because I felt it was a very important question, not least because she chose me to be godmother to her daughters. I have started writing any number of emails in response, but in the end I have decided to post my reasons here for all to read.

I won't go into all the historical reasons for the separation of all the other denominations from the Catholic church. If you are interested, I am told (by my favourite internet nun) that Protestantism for Dummies, and The Complete Idiot's Guide to the Catholic Church are good resources. Leaving all those bygones in the past, there are two main differences between the Catholic Church and other Christian denominations today.

The first is The Real Presence. As Catholics, we believe that when the priest consecrates the bread and wine at the altar, they actually become the body and blood of Jesus, including his soul and his divinity, as he intended us to receive them at the Last Supper. Words can't express how special that is.

One of the things I love about being a Catholic, is that we don't try to rationalise and explain how this happens. We accept that it is a mystery - a miracle in which we personally can participate every time we go to Mass. Other churches don't seem to have the same belief in God's loving generosity and ability to perform the impossible. For them, the Eucharist is simply a symbolic recreation of the Last Supper. In other words, instead of a holy sacrament, communion becomes just a show put on by humans with no direct participation from God. I prefer the awesomeness of trying to contemplate Christ's physical presence on the altar and inside me!

The other big difference between the Catholic church and other Christian denominations is the primacy of the Pope. We believe there is an unbroken line of succession from Peter ("on this rock I build my church") to Pope Benedict. Other Christian churches tend to be run by committees. To quote one Anglican Bishop: "Unlike the Church of Rome, with its admirable clarity of decision-making, the Anglican churches are messy and often disagree with each other." Due to this authority structure, the Catholic church doesn't change quickly to meet modern ideas, and can seem out of touch and old fashioned. However, when it comes to choosing a solid place on which to stand while building a self and a family, the Catholic church offers a guaranteed stability.

Catholics are often accused of being hypocritical, or uncaring, or unfriendly or any number of other things and there is sometimes a lot of truth in that - but it is the people, not the church - I think you would find the same wherever you went and if anything it is our responsibility to change such perceptions through our own behaviour. One small pebble can create a landslide, after all. Priests are human and often have their problems, but I have found, even with the ones I can't really relate to, very often God surprises me by putting words in their mouths that I needed to hear.

I am by no means a perfect wife. I have my faults, my bad days and I know for a fact there are times when I am just plain unlovable. Despite this, my husband constantly forgives me and delights in our relationship. In the same way, the Catholic church is the bride of Christ. Would we really want Him to forsake her for a younger model?

Ok, I am stepping down from my soapbox now - but before I go... I couldn't find any music for this week's hymn, and since I was being brave and putting my heart out on my sleeve anyway, I decided to go one step further! I hope you like it :)



Come as you are - from our kitchen at 2:30am, with a little help from Munchkin.

Thanks to my sister, Steff, Sister Mary Martha and the mothers of the 4 Real Forum, for challenging me to put my faith into words. I appreciate it!

Bilby has strange tastes!

It's 4:30 in the morning, and here I am, suddenly woken up with a desperate need to eat a bowl of fresh pawpaw, dried fig and icecream... no - it's not a flavour combination I would particularly recommend! but it does give me an excuse to sit here and write an entry.

I consider myself very lucky that I don't really get morning sickness. I feel nauseous most of the time, but I don't go that extra step and vomit. When I was pregnant with Wombat, it only ever happened when I brushed my teeth. This time, it has only happened once... but Wombat is making it up for it.

Ever since I weaned him, my routine has been to give him a bottle of milk, lying in bed with him, to settle him to sleep. This happens after both lunch and dinner. Lately, he has been climbing into bed very happily, guzzling his milk as normal (I keep him sitting up until it's finished), then giving a couple of little coughs and WHAMMO... up it all comes again, bringing most of his food with it. It distresses him a little - especially if blanky gets caught in the melee - but once I've taken his ukky pyjamas off, he is perfectly happy to bounce around cheerfully with Yeti while I clean up and change his sheets... again....

This started to become regular - every other day after either lunch or dinner, and on rare occasions, after both! I was beginning to think I shouldn't feel so complacent about my own strong stomach :P

At first I blamed teething, then a stomach bug, because we both came down with a good case of the flu which kept us feeling rotten for two weeks (Yeti got sick as soon as Wombat and I started to feel better). Now I have decided - who cares what's causing it! It HAS to stop, immediately! The last thing a pregnant woman wants is to spend her naptimes scraping off curdled milk and doing (even more) loads of washing. So I sat down and had a talk with Wombat, just as I did before weaning him, and we have changed the routine.

Now, he has his warm milk cuddled up in Mummy's bed before he goes potty, so he has plenty of time to sit and let it digest properly - and an excuse to make Mummy read to him for an extra hour before bedtime (which he loves). When we finally get into his bed and he realises there is not going to be any more bottle, we are still having a bit of a whinge and a cry, but by that stage he is so tired that he generally zonks out mid-complaint. Fingers crossed, it is working so far!

Christmas is sneaking up very fast now. I bought Wombat a fantastic advent calendar - it is like a metal tray with a wooden frame, and the frame is made of little boxes. The tray has the stable painted on it with Bethlehem in the distance, and the 24 boxes contain all the characters - as little magnets! There are sheep, cows, donkeys, camels, stars, angels, wise men, Mary, Joseph and of course, baby Jesus. Wombat really adores it! In the beginning it was a bit of a battle to stop him trying to bring out all the pieces at once, but he has really gotten the idea of just opening one box every night. If he wants to play with it during the day, he can rearrange the scene (using the characters he has so far) in endless recombinations, telling little stories about them. The sheep have a tendency to want to fly with the stars, the cows like looking out the windows of the stable, and the wise men have to ride ON their camels instead of standing beside them... it's great fun watching his imagination emerge - I just can't wait until I can understand all of the narrative that accompanies it!

Today we finally put up our Christmas tree. It's not exactly a work of art :P We still like having a fresh tree, but we didn't feel like paying for a cut one and we couldn't finda good potted one this year. We have several from previous years growing out in the garden, and Yeti had plans for drilling holes in a post and inserting branches to 'make' one. Meanwhile, Wombat decided he wanted to walk the paths of my sadly neglected and overgrown garden, which necessitated me trimming back the Juniper tree. I looked at the pile of branches in the wheelbarrow, filled a bucket with rocks and soil, stuck in the branches and voila - instant Christmas tree. It leaves a little to be desired, but Wombat had a brilliant time telling me where all the decorations should hang, and that matters more than having a magnificent display!

Speaking of magnificent displays (or not), I spent today's (vomit-free) naptime baking my first ever gingerbread house. In tomorrow's naptime - though I guess it's today now - I get to build and decorate the house! Wish me luck! I only just had enough dough to make the house so the roof might be a bit thin, but so far it's been lots of fun! I'll post pics when it's finished.

Now it is quarter past five, and I can hear Wombat starting to toss and turn. He often crawls into bed with me at this time of morning, so I had better sneak back in and get some sleep while I can...

PS. The weather has been absolutely incredible - the wettest December we have ever had - it's raining almost every day. We have had about 5 days of sun this whole summer, and I have to tell you, a Wombat gets a bit stir-crazy when you keep him inside too much! I will write more on the ominous silences, and even worse, the "Oh dear, Oh dear, Oh dear, Oh dears" some other day... In the meantime, here is a preview to stir your imagination (and this was one of the easier ones to clean up!)

A meme and a minor miracle

First, a bit of silly fun - create your own South Park Portrait.



Wombat and I went to Mass yesterday, for the first time in two months - with Wombat teething and the horrible weather, combined with Yeti's dislike of me driving in heavy rain, I just haven't had the chance for ages.

I have a choice of three churches I can attend:

- the closest at 8am is a beautiful old building, but very small and claustrophobic. There is no room for Wombat to sit at my feet, so he has to stay quiet and held on my lap for the whole hour. This means we hardly ever get to stay for the whole Mass, as he gets increasingly wriggly until finally I have to take him outside. It is also very cold at that time of the morning, and I have just gotten Wombat used to sleeping in until 8, so getting him up and ready at 7 so he can sit still amongst a group of strangers is a bit much to ask.

- the second option at 10am is a big church, with a congregation of over 500. There is wonderful singing, but the crowd is really too much for Wombat. He gets scared and refuses to go in the door. If I get him inside he cries. Even if I get him settled, I am not happy, as there are a lot of children there who don't behave in a respectful manner - running up and down the aisles, talking loudly, throwing things, eating constantly. I find it really gives Wombat the wrong message.

- the third option, also at 10am but in the opposite direction, is a very plain, no-frills kind of place - appropriately called St Joseph the Worker. There is no beautiful stained glass. The few statues are simple, with chipped paint. But the congregation is only around 80 people - which while still scary, is survivable for Wombat, and there is a crying room - a small room at the side, separated from the main church by a glass wall, where parents can take children if they get restless so they can still participate in the Mass without disturbing everyone else.

This last church is obviously the best option for Wombat, so that is what I chose - but with a heavy heart, because there would be no singing. For me, music is an integral part of worship. I love singing the parts of the Mass, and the hymns, and Wombat loves it too. As I drove along, I kept praying, "Please, Lord, let there be singing. I know it is a lot to ask, and I really don't expect it, but it would be so nice."

We got to the church, and Wombat - still traumatised from his experience at the big church at Easter when there was over 1000 people trying to cram in for Mass - started pulling back before we even got in the door. I carried him in, but as the seats filled, he started to get upset, so we moved to the crying room, which we had all to ourselves. I noticed with curiosity that there seemed to be more people there than normal, and many of them were of Asian appearance - very unusual in that little rural town, where most of the congregation are retired coal miners & their families.

What do you know! God had arranged for a special visit from a Phillipino choir - just for me! I know it was just for me, because the sound system in the crying room hadn't been turned on. I really had to strain to hear the priest, but I could hear the music and singing clearly. When we went out to communion, I discovered why. The volume in the church was painfully loud. No-one else could have been enjoying the music as much as I was because in the crying room it was muffled to exactly the right level!

It took Wombat about half the Mass to settle down and it was VERY cold in there - he was rugged up, but next week I will make sure he wears his scarf and llama jacket as well. Eventually he relaxed and had a lovely time reading his books and looking at all the people through 'his' window. It helped that we had the room to ourselves. I will be trying to go back there each Sunday so Wombat gets some consistency and gets used to the smaller crowd. I won't expect music next time, but it was very nice to have my prayers answered.

No... I don't think God transported 20 people from the Phillipines that morning just for me - but He is omniscient and omnipotent, so He would have known in advance what I was going to ask and arranged it months ago... I start getting all tangled up in thinking about answered prayers and free will - but perhaps it's like a tree structure - I am standing at point A with, in this case, 4 possibilities stretching out in front of me - three different churches or stay at home - whichever one I choose will have certain consequences and questions associated with it - I guess God just plans for them all!

As Sister Mary Martha would say:

we don't know how it works. We Catholics have a saying for these kind of questions: "It's a Sacred Mystery." "Sacred Mystery" is "Catholic" for "let it go."

So I'll just say - THANKS, LORD!

Smart Habit Saturday

My SMART habit this week is daily prayer. I have had this link saved for a while but only ever used it sporadically - I will now want to make a habit of using it daily:

SACRED SPACE

This site is run by Irish Jesuits and provides on-screen guided meditations and a short passage of specially chosen scripture each day. It only takes about 10 minutes to do and always makes me feel wonderful afterwards. Here is an excerpt from the end of today's reading, which turned out to be very appropriate:

So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today's trouble is enough for today.

At the end of the reading, the guided meditation prompts you to ask: "What are you saying to me, Lord?" Sometimes I really have to puzzle over the answer to that - but not today :D

The rest of this post is WAY too longwinded and contains WAY too much information. You are very welcome not to read it!

Positive Parenting: Good. This week I have been concentrating on giving positive feedback and rewards (hugs and kisses) for all the little things Wombat does well, ignoring minor misbehaviour, asking for his cooperation (that really works! It's amazing how much Wombat understands, and how much nicer things can be if I explain what I'm doing and why, and then do it WITH him instead of TO him.)

It hasn't been all smooth sailing - he has suddenly become afraid of the dark - or perhaps it is just the awful teething making it harder for him to settle? We have had some screaming tantrums at bedtime but it seems better for him if I don't turn the light off until after he has been asleep for a few hours. I am going to invest in a night light & see if that helps.

I have sidestepped napping battles by watching for his 'sleep window' instead of insisting on two naps a day (and am getting hardly any work done as a result). I have also sidestepped the nappy changing battle by using a cloth nappy folded into a pad in a pair of training pants - it doesn't work for sleeptimes, but it makes him feel more grown up during the day - and this week he is finally using sign language for potty! (I have been trying to teach it to him for 6 months - ever since he decided he didn't like pooping in his nappy.) All poop goes in the potty now - and he makes the potty sign when he is sitting on it - now the next step is to get him used to the idea of telling me when he feels the need to pee.

(EDIT: When am I EVER going to learn??? Every single time I have made a comment online about my wonderful Wombat consistently pooping in the potty, I will spend that day changing dirty nappies. Every Single Time. I think that boy can read my thoughts...)

One thing I have found in my reading which has really helped is not actually to do with positive parenting, but it has made a big difference. A while ago I read about St Therese and her 'Little Way'. I immediately sorted out some beads from my stash to make a set of sacrifice beads, but never went any further. This week I found myself reading about St Therese again, and discovered we had something in common:

Every time Therese even imagined that someone was criticizing her or didn't appreciate her, she burst into tears. Then she would cry because she had cried! Any inner wall she built to contain her wild emotions crumpled immediately before the tiniest comment.
(Catholic Online: Saint Therese of Lisieux)

I can SO relate to that! I read further and rediscovered her concept of using beads to count her 'little acts of love'. Nothing heroic, nothing huge, just everyday good deeds - making Wombat smile... cleaning up a mess... smiling at my mother-in-law... it doesn't even have to be something you don't like doing - just something God would approve of!

Basically, when you do a good deed, or offer up some little sacrifice to Jesus, you move a bead towards the crucifix. When you do something wrong (grumbling to myself about hanging the washing... losing my temper... leaving a mess for someone else to clean...)* you move a bead back the other way (towards a Miraculous medal of Mary, or a medal of St Therese, or some other saint/inspiration to do better). I have found this really helps me keep track of my day - I don't despair after a bad day, because I know I have done good things as well, and if I am having had a good day, I am also more aware of the little things I do that hurt others. The beads are very easy to make - here are some clear instructions and here is some more information on how to use them.

*(to quote Sandra Boynton's song 'I like to Fuss': "I like to fuss, I like to moan. I like to stand on my chair and say leave me alone... I like to gripe, I like to brood, I like to stomp all around in a truly terrible mood..." - that's the main bad habit that has me pushing beads in reverse ;P )

Exercise: excellent! WOOHOOOOO! I was so inspired and feeling so good about exercise this week that whenever I missed a session, I did double the next time so I could still tick it off. The secret is in setting such small, manageable ten minute sessions! Having said that, I am on hold for this week. It is that time of the month, and I have discovered an unexpected and unwelcome side effect of weaning. While I was breastfeeding, it seemed that my body had finally settled down into having normal manageable periods instead of my usual bloodbath. I was incredibly happy! Now that I have stopped, I am suddenly plunged back into the dark ages of a huge mess and cramps. *sigh* If I'd known that was going to happen... oh well, I guess it's just more incentive to get pregnant again :P (though Yeti insists on us waiting until I am under less study stress...)

The end result is that my exercise plans have ground to a shuddering halt. I have been reaching for the chocolate, and the second spoonful of sugar that I had happily been doing without has somehow crept back into my tea. The big challenge will be taking up where I left off once this week is over - and that is the challenge I have failed in the past. Still, I was really enjoying the exercise this time, and definitely feeling the benefits of it, even if they weren't externally visible. Rather than push myself in a weakened state, I am going to spend a week doing less strenuous stretching activities and make that part of the exercise habit so I can cope with times like this.

SMART habit progress:

• Positive Parenting = good


• Exercise = excellent (but on hold)

Visit Lara at The Lazy Organizer to join in Smart Habit Saturday - it will change your life! (Find out more about Smart Habit Saturday here: Getting Started with Smart Habit Saturday.)

A (revie)wing and a prayer

Many months ago, my sister lent me her copy of Tracy Hogg's The Baby Whisperer. I want to return it to her before she gives birth - and since little Analiese is now "deeply engaged" and only 15 days away from entering the world, I figured it was time to get my act together and finally write my review.

It is posted over at What, Wombat? if you are interested.

Overall, my reaction was pretty negative, but Steff, please don't feel bad about suggesting I read it. It has had the beneficial effect of making me view my parenting decisions in a much more analytical manner, and while I may have rejected most of the book's methods, I have gained a new confidence in my own abilities to know what is right for Wombat.

Today, I have also started praying a nine day "Novena for Impossible Requests".

My first intention is for my sister to have an easy & relaxed labour - which also requires Analiese to wait until her due date, so my mother can be there to care for my nearly-two-year-old niece and goddaughter, Kaelyn.

My second intention is for me to learn the art of being gentle. I am too rough with Wombat, both physically and with his emotions.

My third intention is for me to find the accommodation we need for my onsite school, and for those two weeks (July 30 - August 10) to go smoothly.

I think those are some pretty impossible requests, and well worth entrusting to Our Lady ;D



I read a quote this morning which immediately was copied out and added to my collection. I love the childlike tone to it, similar to my "Mother of Good Counsel" hymn:

Ah, my Lady! If you do not carry me in your arms to God, do not expect me to walk there. Carry me, and if I resist, carry me by force.
(St Alphonse di Liguori)

R.I.P. Rufous

Yes, that's right. Our lovely rooster, Rufous, is no more.

He passed away this morning of unknown causes.



Wombat and I went out to feed the chickens before breakfast this morning as we always do. I knew something was wrong immediately, because they weren't all waiting at the door, clucking for their food. When they heard us coming, they came out one by one and stood by the door - but Rufous was missing. Wombat seemed to know something was wrong, because he stood quietly waiting instead of chasing them around as usual. I found Rufous lying near their perch, very cold and obviously unwell. I wrapped him in my jumper and carried him (and Wombat) back inside to Yeti. While I organised a box for him by the heater, he quietly died.

It was bitterly cold last night - the first frost we have had. I think Rufous was reasonably old for a rooster (the lady I bought the chooks from did tell me that some of the hens were quite old, and I think Rufous was the same). He was also incredibly gentlemanly, and as a result, never got as much to eat as the others - I would try to throw tidbits his way to make sure he got some, but almost always he would let one of the hens or one of the three young ones, his children, snatch the food from his beak.

I'm going to miss him. He was my favourite! I loved his beautiful tail, with its sheen of green and purple, and I loved the way he bravely took care of his family in every new situation.



(that's him on the right, with Ruby on the left.) He had been molting a bit lately - I had found several wing feathers that seemed to belong to him, and I had been waiting to collect a tail feather, but it seemed he was never going to drop one. This morning when I went back to make sure all the others were ok, and to look for any sign of struggle, the only unusual thing I found was one single tail feather - perhaps it was his gift for me. I know I couldn't bear to pull one from him now. I am consoling myself by thinking that he knew he had brought his family to a safe place where they would be well looked after, and he just gave up the fight and succumbed to the cold. (I am desperately hoping he wasn't sick, because then I would have to worry about Wombat getting sick as well - especially as he has been sneezing this morning - but I hope that has more to do with him kicking off his blankets all night - I must have covered him up 10 times or more.)

The story of Rufous is not over, however. There is his son, Stevie, growing into a fine rooster who will take his father's place.



Stevie has all the makings of a wonderful pet rooster. He has a mercenary attitude to food & is very intelligent, which means he quickly worked out that letting Wombat occasionally touch his feathers means he gets a lot more to eat! I had been telling him off for being a greedy young rooster, but now I will make sure he gets as much as he wants, as he has a big job to do. The other two young ones have been named Henny Penny (for the girl) and Chicken Little (for the boy) as they both have a "the sky is falling" kind of nervousness to them - nothing at all like Stevie's brash confidence. We had been concerned that we would soon need to move Stevie and one of the hens to a new pen to give him a territory of his own, so he wouldn't fight with Rufous. Now I guess Rufous has taken that worry from us. (I certainly don't think Stevie played any part in Rufous' demise... he's not at all mature yet.)

Not only did Rufous leave Stevie to carry on, but there is (fingers crossed) another generation on the way. A week ago, Rosie started to become possessive about her eggs. She is the only hen who is laying, and when I collected her eggs, she would go scratching around looking for them. Then she started laying in the nestbox Yeti built for them, and making it obvious that she wanted to sit on them, so I have left them for her. She has laid an egg a day, and is now sitting on a clutch of four. I do hope she won't be upset by the loss of Rufous and stop nesting, as it will be lovely to have some fluffy little chicks for Wombat to watch.

Wombat does seem to be aware that Rufous isn't around any more. I told him Rufous wasn't feeling well and we were taking him in to Daddy, who would look after him. I have made sure he didn't see Rufous' body, and while we were out giving a special breakfast treat to the other chooks, I started quietly telling him that Jesus needed a really good rooster, so Rufous has gone to live with him. You can laugh at me, but Wombat is quite keen on the idea of Jesus. He often brings his bible and prayer story books for me to read, and we say our prayers together every night before bed. A while ago, when he was teething and upset, I grabbed a holy card from my teaching supplies and handed it to him (a picture of Jesus with a lamb). Wombat loved it and insisted on putting it in the toy-pocket I have sewn on his bed bumper. The other morning, when I went in to get him up, I found him lying quietly singing and talking to this picture ;) He particularly likes the prayer: "Jesus, tender shepherd, hear me. Bless thy little lamb tonight. Through the darkness, be thou near me. Watch my sleep till morning light." As a result, I felt quite justified in telling him Rufous had gone to heaven. (As a teenager, I spent several weeks researching and preparing a paper designed to prove to one of my teachers that animals DID go to heaven. I never convinced her... but she never managed to convince me that they didn't!)

Anyway, that is all a sidetrack and I have to get back to studying. I will get Yeti to bury Rufous later while I keep Wombat occupied, and then we will plant a nice rosebush for him.

Schoenstatt Shrine

When I was 5 months pregnant, I was lucky enough to have Yeti send me on a little retreat - I spent a lovely week staying with the nuns at the local Schoenstatt Shrine.



(This is just the tiny shrine, not the building where I stayed!!!)

On Sunday, we took Wombat there for a little outing. (The above is a picture I found on the net - I have archived all my photos from my first visit and didn't take any this time as there were too many visitors around the shrine). We took Wombat for a walk around the grounds. The views were as spectacular as I remembered...



Unfortunately, it also showed how quickly Sydney's smog layer is creeping up on us! Time for us to move!!!



The highlight, of course, were the family of kangaroos who live wild in Schoenstatt's paddocks. When I was staying there, I would go for several walks every day, talking to Wombat and the kangaroos (observors may have said talking to myself...)



The lighting wasn't right for taking pictures, and I didn't want to go too close and scare them away - the whole idea was for Wombat to get to see them...



which he did...



and he loved it! He wanted to get out of his pram and chase them for a cuddle ;D



(Note the gumleaf - no matter where we go, he has to have a leaf or flower in his hand... we walk past a tree and he points and makes his desire known, so I pick him a nice leaf, and he carries it the whole time, in the pram and out - only releasing it when we get back in the car (or to swap for a new one that he finds along the way)

While we were there, I got the chance to duck into the gift shop and buy myself the mother's day present I REALLY wanted. I saw this picture while staying there and instantly loved it - Our Lady as Mother of Good Counsel.



I have an old holy card from my Grandma with this picture on it, and the following hymn (just wish I knew the tune, but I use it often as a prayer...)

Oh Holy Mary, Mother of Good Counsel,
Sweetest patron mortal ever knew.
In all my doubts I turn to thee for guidance.
Oh Mother, tell me, what am I to do?

By thy face to Jesus' face incling,
sheltered safely in thy mantle blue,
by his little arms around thee twining,
Oh Mother, tell me, what am I to do?

It is just the most peaceful and lovely picture and helps me to be much more patient with my Wombat (especially lately, when his teething means he isn't napping or sleeping well, so I am getting further and further behind in my studies. Even when I go without sleep myself to try and catch up, I'm constantly going back in to soothe him off to sleep again...) I love the trusting way that Jesus is looking at Mary, and I also love the detail that his hand resting on her neckline supposedly represents the intimacy of nursing... since I'm still doing quite a lot of that too ;D

Anyway, speaking of studying, that's what I'm supposed to be doing now, so I will leave you with the history of this picture. I was really curious to know who painted it - and this is all I could find out - the painting from which my print is taken is much older and has a much more interesting story than I ever imagined!

The little city of Gennazano, situated on the mountains of the former Sabina province, about ten leagues from Rome, for a thousand years already had honored the Blessed Virgin as Our Lady of Good Counsel. In the 15th century, the church of that city was dilapidated and about to collapse. A pious woman of advanced age named Petruccia desired to provide for its reconstruction, but the gift of her entire fortune, which she made for this purpose, proved insufficient. Petruccia foretold that the Blessed Virgin would Herself finish the work.

Then on April 25, 1467, at the hour of Vespers, a celestial harmony was heard in the air, and the crowd saw a brilliant cloud coming down through the air, which came to rest over the altar in the Chapel of Saint Blaise in the Gennazano Church, where the restoration had begun. At the same time, all the church bells began to ring joyously. The cloud disappeared, and the marveling crowd saw a picture of Mary holding the Child Jesus, painted on a prepared surface, suspended in the air over the altar near the wall, without any natural support. It was duly verified that this picture had been miraculously transported from a church of Scutari, a city of Albania. Providence, wishing to preserve it from profanation by the Turks who were controlling that land, sent it as a reward for the faith of Petruccia and her fellow citizens of Gennazano.

A history of the marvels of all kinds which have been wrought since that time near this miraculous picture, suspended in the air, would require volumes. Often the picture has been seen to change its expression, the eyes of the Blessed Virgin taking on an appearance of joy or sorrow. How many illnesses and infirmities have been cured! How many spiritual graces have been obtained! Gennazano in Italy is still a venerated pilgrimage site, much frequented by the people of that land, and many pious pilgrims from other nations, when time permits it for them, arrange to visit this blessed sanctuary. The Sovereign Pontiffs have granted many indulgences to devotion to Our Lady of Good Counsel, and the title Mother of Good Counsel was included in the Litany of the Blessed Virgin by Pope Leo XIII.

If I ever get to Italy, this place will be on my MUST SEE list!