Late-night confession

So, it is after 11 p.m., and that is late for me. I am just back from chaperoning a middle school dance. That is, I sat in one corner of the gym and made sure the kids didn't go outside or into the dark foyer which could be a haven for God-knows-what.

It was fun, really. I visited with other moms and watched the kids try to do all the latest dances. I learned about current fashion (not found at Target) and watched the kids interact with their iPhones.

These phones are essential accessories. The kids danced with them, they took pictures. The phones glowed through their pockets. It is something that just didn't exist when I was a kid and middle school dances were about feeling awkward and wondering if anyone would ask you to dance.

Well, my kids aren't getting an iPhone anytime soon. I have written about this before in another forum, but I don't see any rewards in a virtual reality.  It is a new paradigm and one that all parents need to take seriously. I need to take it more seriously and figure out how to guide my kids to engage the whole phone culture in a healthy way. Right now, we are just avoiding it, and we cannot do that forever.

What these phones allow is a completely unsupervised world in which tweens operate, in which they bully, gossip and can ultimately hurt one another. The operative word here is unsupervised, and tweens are at an age where supervision is mandatory. They are at a crossroads, and they need someone there with them to serve as guides.

I am doing that to the best of my ability, but I wonder sometimes if I am failing miserably because I don't truly understand the modern world. And I wonder how to make God relevant to my kids when the Wobble (dance),  the latest movie and the current tween drama are their reality. Yes, we say a decade of the Rosary daily.Yes, we go to Mass weekly ( or more). But there is so much noise in the world right now, I wonder if anyone could hear God, even if He raised his voice.

Maybe if God would text the kids, they could hear Him.

Fourth confession: Station wagon or Van

Jan. 14, 2013

Yesterday we recognized the Baptism of the Lord, and the homily asked the question: Do you, like John the Baptist, recognize Christ for who he is or do you walk past him in your daily life without seeing him?
I thought of all the people in my life: my husband, my children, their friends, my neighbors, the children at the hospital where I work and my elderly relatives. I felt relatively sure that I see Christ in the people around me.
But when we walked out to the car, I learned that my vision isn't as clear as I thought. Before I continue this story, I should tell you that we have three old cars: two green station wagons and one maroon van. Most of the time, we drive one of the station wagons.
So, we are walking out to the car, and my husband is holding the umbrella because it is raining. I'm following him because he has the umbrella, but I cannot see our car. No matter how hard I look, I can't find it. Finally, I ask him, "Where in the third row did you park?"
He points straight ahead: "It's right there."
And he was right. The maroon van was right in front of me. I didn't see it because I was looking for a station wagon. How many times in my life do I not see what I am looking for, when it is right in front of me, because it doesn't look the way I think it should?
It's a sobering question.