Faith & Family | Susan Hines-Brigger

from St. Anthony Messenger December 2021/January 2022

Film Reviews

Susan Hines-Brigger

Susan has worked at St. Anthony Messenger for 27 years and is an executive editor. She and her husband, Mark, are the proud parents of four kids— Maddie, Alex, Riley, and Kacey. Aside from her family, her loves are Disney, traveling, and sports.

Susan welcomes your comments and suggestions!

EMAIL:

CatholicFamily@ FranciscanMedia.org

MAIL:

Faith and Family 28 W. Liberty St. Cincinnati, OH 45202

WANT MORE? VISIT: FranciscanMedia.org/ faith-and-family

The Joy of Little Things

It has been said that change is the only constant in life. After the past two years, oh boy, would I agree with that. And I’m sure many other people would too.

Last year, thanks to COVID-19, for us there were no big family celebrations or midnight Mass. There were no nice Christmas outfits or fancy hairstyles. Instead, we celebrated in pajamas, sweatpants, and messy buns. It was the first Christmas without my dad, so no arrangements needed to be made for virtual visits to make sure he was included. In short, it was the most untraditional Christmas my family had ever celebrated.

That is, until this year.

EMBRACING THE NEW

This year my family celebrated Christmas . . . in November . . . in Florida. Yes, you read that right. It was a far cry from our usual Christmas traditions back home in Ohio— cold weather, going to get the Christmas tree, baking cookies. But when you have two kids living out of town, you learn to adapt.

So we sat and exchanged presents at my daughter’s house after enjoying our Thanksgiving dinner. There was no tree, no decorations, no cold weather or chance of snow. But you know what? It worked. We were all together for the first time in a while. We spent time talking—in person, as opposed to the scheduled FaceTime conversations we’ve gotten so used to. We laughed. My husband, Mark, and I reveled in watching our kids reconnect and catch up with each other.

The whole scene made me think of the classic line from the Dr. Seuss cartoon How the Grinch Stole Christmas!:

“He puzzled and puzzled till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn’t before. Maybe Christmas, he thought, doesn’t come from a store. Maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more!”

A CHANGED PERSPECTIVE

After we returned home and I started to pull out the Christmas decorations, I thought a lot about our family’s Thanksgiving/Christmas celebration. I thought back to how our kids spent more time focused on each other than they did on the gifts we brought them. I thought about the lack of decorations and how we still had a wonderful celebration of each other and the spirit of the holiday. And I thought about that profound quote from a simple cartoon.

As I unpacked the ornaments, I looked at each one that we had bought on all of our family trips. While I placed each one on the tree, the memories that accompanied it came flooding back, bringing with it a sense of joy to my heart. I thought of how our kids had recounted some of those trips when we were together less than a month ago.

But then I put many of the decorations back into their totes and returned them to the attic. This Christmas would be more about the small things—like time spent together—than the grand displays of decorations or stacks of perfectly wrapped presents.

So, no, our trip to Florida wasn’t the traditional Christmas I have become accustomed to. But it was perfect and certainly captured the spirit of Christmas in the broader sense of what the season represents—love, family, and togetherness. After all, what really is at the heart of Christmas? Isn’t the true focus of the season supposed to be the celebration of a child born in the simplest of surroundings? It’s not about the decorations, the gifts, or the parties.

Dr. Seuss might have been right. “Maybe Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more!”

FAITH and FAMILY CAPTURING THE JOY OF CHRISTMAS

When I was a kid, Christmas was downright magical. My mom and dad excelled in the art of the holiday like hot cocoa on the stove, a single string of secondhand lights, and a season; my mom filling the house with sweet and savory smells to complement the red and green decorations, my dad always piling too many presents underneath the live Christmas tree. In the O’Brien home, Christmas was a huge extravaganza. And I assumed it always would be.

But now that I’m a parent, my own family’s Christmas spirit looks pretty different than that of my family of origin. Raising five kids means that decorations are limited, both because of our tight budget and because pretty things get Shannon K. Evans broken with a constant stream of toddlers in our midst. And while the pile of gifts under the artificial tree might still be substantial, each person gets fewer gifts when they’re divided among seven people. On top of all that, I am a far cry from the cook my mother is—in both quality and desire.

I am definitely not recreating my childhood Christmases here; and yet, I still dearly desire for my own kids to experience this holiday as a magical, enchanting time. I want them to carry memories of our spiritual practices and religious traditions that evoke feelings of wonder and awe. Every year, I wrestle with how to do this in a way that doesn’t concede to consumerism, waste, and greed; every year I wonder if I’m giving my children anything magical at all.

But what is so easy for me to forget is that the minds and imaginations of children are already explosively dynamic. It really doesn’t take much to captivate them: Little things Christmas movie on TV are enough to fill them with giddy anticipation. When I see our home from their eyes, I am reminded that it’s not the huge, showy things that are necessary for Christmas joy—it’s the little things that come alive in extra special ways.When I see My husband our home reminds me that from my kids’ he, too, treasured eyes, I am Christmas as a child, and yet his family celreminded that it’s not the huge, showy things that are ebrated the holiday in a more understated way than mine did. Having him bring his perspective in to add nuance to my expectations helps to keep me from falling into the belief that there is only one “right” way to celebrate Christmas. necessary for It can all be magical; it can all be holy. Christmas joy. This year our five children range in age from 2 to 11, so I’m sure Christmas Eve Mass will be as chaotic and rowdy as ever in our pew. After Mass, we will return to our warm, cozy home in the snow, bake and frost some sugar cookies, and light candles to twinkle alongside the lights strung around the living room. And in the morning when we rise, there might not be lavish decorations or gifts—and I will very likely make a subpar dinner—but there will be a sparkle in my children’s eyes and a joyful spring in their steps. And there just might be in mine too.

—Shannon K. Evans

Friar Pete & Repeat

These scenes may seem alike to you, but there are changes in the two. So look and see if you can name eight ways in which they’re not the same. (Answers below)

Shannon K. Evans

Shannon K. Evans is a frequent contributor to St. Anthony Messenger and is the author of Rewilding Motherhood: Your Path to an Empowered Feminine Spirituality (Brazos Press). She and her family make their home in central Iowa. Find out more on her website, ShannonKEvans.com, or follow her on Instagram at @ShannonkEvans.

WANT MORE? Check out our daily online prayer resource, Pause+Pray: FranciscanMedia.org/ pausepray

A Prayer for the New Year

As 2021 comes to a close, we’ve probably given some thought to our resolutions. While the cultural tradition has been criticized by some as being unsustainable, laying out specific intentions at the beginning of the year can propel us toward positive growth when set realistically. Looking ahead and setting healthy goals for ourselves—whether physical, spiritual, mental, or emotional—can bolster our sense of hope and create valuable inner motivation for moving forward.

But entering into a new year is not only about a new beginning; it’s also about an ending. If we are to embrace the next chapter of our lives with open arms, we need to take time to cultivate a sense of closure from the last chapter. After all, it’s equally important to look behind as it is to look ahead. Without pausing to take a conscious assessment of the past year, setting new resolutions will likely only keep us running on the proverbial hamster wheel. Eventually, we’ll become exhausted. If we’re looking for true, soulful inner growth and not a quick fix, carving out time to pray and deeply reflect on the past 12 months is in order.

When we stop to take inventory of our life experiences—especially in smaller increments of time, as with one calendar year—we have the opportunity to engage in deep listening with the Holy Spirit to better understand how God has been at work in our lives. The end of December provides the perfect time to reflect on the patterns and movements of God within us. It is also a time to look at the circumstances that we may not have noticed as they were happening in real time. Hindsight, as they say, is 20/20.

Identifying the highs and lows of the past 12 months can offer valuable insight on how to make the most beneficial choices in the future: We can see what has moved us closer to God and what has moved us further away. Putting together the pieces in this way could be akin to following a trail of bread crumbs in order to find the right path for moving forward in the year ahead.

Of course, looking into the past with openness and vulnerability is not always easy or pleasant. Painful things have likely happened in the past year; perhaps even things we would like to run from. But when we turn to God, we get the chance to see God’s presence even in the hardest times.

CONSOLATION/DESOLATION

St. Ignatius wrote about times of “consolation” and times of “desolation,” indicating that both

are part of the spiritual life. A state of consolation is when we are acutely aware of and are experiencing God’s active presence in the world and in our lives. In these times, we can clearly see the gift s of the Holy Spirit, such as love, goodness, mercy, and peace. On the other hand, a state of desolation is when we can’t seem to see or feel God’s active presence in the world. It may be because we are resisting God. Desolation tends to be marked by diffi cult feelings such as resentment, selfi shness, fear, and gloom.

Consolation certainly feels more pleasant, but desolation has things to teach us too, which is why annual days of refl ection can be so benefi cial. No experience, however trying, is wasted when brought to God: Th ere is always growth, redemption, and fullness of life to be had when we put our life in divine hands.

As we refl ect on the year and seek understanding of God’s movements in ACTION our lives, it’s oft en helpful to pull out a journal and write down our thoughts STEPS as they come. Previously prepared questions can serve as prompts to get us started, such as, “What did I learn this year?” “What rhythms worked for me?” “What do I wish I had more time for?” “What brings me closer to God?” “What feels unnecessarily hard?” “What feels unhealthy to me?”

In the frantic pace of our busy culture, taking an entire morning for prayer and refl ection can feel ludicrous and wasteful. Th e temptation is to barrel on into the new year with grandiose resolutions that we hope will improve our lives. But without stopping to seek God fi rst, will any of those resolutions really last? Instead of taking a sip out of the nearest water fountain, what if we took the time to dig a deep, nourishing well? We might just taste the living water that Jesus promised.

MAKE A PLAN. Look at your calendar and set aside a few hours to devote to self-refl ection. COME PREPARED. Make sure you have everything you might need: journals from the year, cards from loved ones, mementos, a glass of water, a fresh journal, and a pen to write down your thoughts during this time. Leave your phone and computer in another room to minimize distractions. ASK FOR HELP. Before you begin your time of refl ection, say a prayer. Ask the Holy Spirit to jog your memory, point out important themes, and illuminate your understanding.