This school year is more demanding on me than any before. For starters, we have more students enrolled in Temple Academy as Jacob joins us as an official first grader and Zachary and Nicholas are pretty sure they are at least in the first grade, too.
Also, we've signed up for more extra curricular activities than ever before. While many people would laugh at my little list of outside commitments, this is a big change for me. I'm a homebody and do best when I'm at home getting done here what needs to be done here for those who live here. Zipping from one activity to the next doesn't energize me the way it does some-- it drains me.
However, in an effort to participate more fully in community life and to offer our children opportunities they don't have at home, we've signed everybody up for at least one group or activity of some sort, ourselves included. My husband signed himself up for a men's group here at our parish called "That Man is You: Becoming a Man after God's own Heart." We belong to a very lively parish here. It is unlike any we've belonged to before. I've been meaning to write about it for some time, but we're still taking it all in and discovering the blessing this church is becoming for our family and the local community. We have a young, orthodox, humble, holy, judicious, and undaunted pastor to thank for the community of true faith we enjoy and the good bishop of our diocese as well. Though my husband's men's group meets at some insane time before 6:00 AM on Saturday mornings (he's home before I even wake up), there are over one hundred men in attendance! They are there to remind themselves of their duties as leaders and protectors of the faith and of their families. The guidelines are there and the teachings of the faith are very clear. My husband can't think anything but that they are preaching to the choir, especially at that hour. "That Man is You!" we like to laugh, but what a witness.
Then yesterday, after a rough day of carrying about my extra duties and extra everything else from pregnancy (oh, third trimester, have mercy on me) my husband called to check in. I think I might have whined to him a bit (I'm being nice to myself here). I might have complained about the getting out the door to soccer and the finding of equipment and such and absolute exhaustion I've been feeling these days on this new schedule and fully expect to get worse before it improves after this dear baby is born. When he asked how he could he help, I had a few very specific suggestions for him. He didn't like what I had to say and implied as much and we offered our mutual apologies for not meeting eye to eye and that was the end of the conversation...
...until the phone rang again. It was that same husband of mine calling to say he understood my frustration and struggles. He said he didn't want to leave me with the impression that he doesn't really want to help or that he isn't listening. He asked me to make my list of concerns. He said we could work these things out together. "That man is me, right?" he asked and I could hear his grin. That man is him and I love that man.
Now, can anyone direct me to a organization with the motto, "Those Children are Us?"