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everyday parenting as spiritual practice

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on the presentation: a big announcement

14 Comments

This is the moment I’ve been trying to imagine.

When she unwraps her baby from where she’s been carrying him close to her heart for the miles and miles it took to get here. When he stretches his arms and legs in that instant, jerky way that newborns do, shocked by the sudden shift of space. When the old man reaches out his gnarled hands, trembling at the thought that this could be the One he has been waiting a lifetime to see.

When the mother hands the child over to the stranger.

When she lets her heart go.

. . .

I used to think the Gospel of the presentation in the temple was all about Simeon and Anna.

Those marvelous wisdom figures, the prophetic pair, the ancient elders, the seers seeking their savior. Simeon whispers such strange words to Mary, how her heart will be pierced. Anna can barely contain all eighty-four years of her joy, rushing out to tell anyone who would listen that the long-awaited anointed one was finally here.

But I wonder now about Mary and Joseph, too.

The tired travelers, exhausted from their long journey to Jerusalem. The poor couple, unable to afford anything more than a pair of birds for their offering. The new parents, still bewildered by the birth of their baby.

How did it feel to let him go for the first time? To place him into unknown hands? To hear such surprising words spoken about what he would become?

The thrill and fear of such a presentation.

. . .

There are everyday presentations, too, of course. Opening up to a dear friend over coffee. Dropping off at day care in the morning. Undressing for the doctor’s exam.

The moments when we hand over what is most previous and beloved. When we hope that others will hold our dreams with as much tenderness as our own heart surrounds them.

And so on Friday afternoon, the Friday before the Feast of the Presentation, I slipped the big stack of plain white copy paper, printed with 1-inch margins and page numbers in the upper right-hand corner, into a big envelope. I drove it to the post office, weighed it, slapped on the postage, and listened to it drop with a thud into the bottom of the mailbox. I stood there staring at the blue steel that separated me from something that was safe in my fingers just seconds before.

The book I spent a year writing. The book that the publisher will put out this fall.

My book.

A baby of sorts. A firstborn of another kind.

A piece of my heart, pushed out into the world, now in the hands of strangers.

. . .

This is the moment I’ve been trying to imagine.

What it would feel like to be done with the solitary stage of writing. What it would mean to open myself up to the world of edits and critiques and readers. What it would sound like to say I wrote a book and have it be past-tense.

The thrill and fear of such a presentation.

I wanted to share this news here in a thousand different ways – in excitement, in hope, in gratitude, in humility, in wonder, in relief, in disbelief.

But maybe this is the only way I ever could have shared the news – of the other creation I’ve been gestating and readying to birth this year.

Through the lens of another story.

Because that is, at its heart, what I hope my calling as a writer means. That I thrust these small stories of mine out into the world, and someone – maybe you – catches a glimmer of their own life in a new light because of these words.

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And if reading is an act of communion, then it must start with a presentation. Of joys and sorrows and laughter and loss and learning all over again what it means for me to be who I am: a mother, a writer, a lover, a child of God.

Which means I have to let go.

And see what comes next.

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Reader Interactions

Comments

  1. Lauren says

    3 February 2014 at 11:17 am

    I am delighted that you have let go, that you have stepped out into this new unknown. A huge congratulations to you!!!

    Reply
    • Laura says

      4 February 2014 at 9:29 pm

      So many thanks your way, dear friend – not the least of which for the part you played in getting this story started…

      Reply
  2. Angie Brown says

    3 February 2014 at 12:08 pm

    Wow, how amazing. Congratulations and best of luck with what is to come. I’m sure you will continue to inspire many more people with your words, as you inspire me every time I read your writings. I look forward to reading all of your posts each week and can’t wait to get your book when it comes out. So exciting!

    Reply
    • Laura says

      4 February 2014 at 9:30 pm

      Thank you, Angie! I’m so grateful for your encouragement!

      Reply
  3. Erica says

    3 February 2014 at 12:54 pm

    wonderful news! Congrats! Your work is inspiring and has given me such wonderful insights into faith and God and parenting. Blessings to you during this time of great celebration!

    Reply
    • Laura says

      4 February 2014 at 9:30 pm

      Thank you for reading, Erica! I’m so encouraged to know my writing has touched you. Thank you for your prayers!

      Reply
  4. DefiningMotherhood says

    3 February 2014 at 1:53 pm

    Lovely…and such a milestone.

    Reply
    • Laura says

      4 February 2014 at 9:31 pm

      You know, it is. And since I’m always frantic to record my kids’ milestones, this is a good reminder that sometimes I need to do the same for myself – thank you.

      Reply
  5. Bev says

    3 February 2014 at 5:12 pm

    Congratulations!! What great news! I, though a mother at a very different stage of “development” than are you with your little ones still by your side, so enjoy your writing and am moved by your wisdom. Looking forward to the fall and reading your new creation

    Reply
    • Laura says

      4 February 2014 at 9:31 pm

      Bev, you inspire and encourage me – thank you for reading and for sharing your own words of wisdom here!

      Reply
  6. Ginny@RandomActsofMomness says

    3 February 2014 at 5:51 pm

    Huzzah! What great news! I have long thought you were a book waiting to happen and here you are!

    What is the book about? Working title? Expected pub date? Whatever it is, it’s going in my book queue. Congrats and enjoy the ride!

    Reply
    • Laura says

      4 February 2014 at 9:33 pm

      Ginny, you bring a smile to my face! Thank you for your enthusiasm! I’m itching to share more details on the book but waiting just a little bit longer while we iron out a few key details. (like, you know, the title that has had umpteen iterations at last count.) But I will keep you posted very soon. And it is indeed quite a ride – I am so grateful for the adventure.

      Reply

Trackbacks

  1. introducing…the book! | mothering spirit says:
    12 February 2014 at 7:28 am

    […] ← on the presentation: a big announcement […]

    Reply
  2. what the presentation means for parents | mothering spirit says:
    2 February 2015 at 6:05 am

    […] year on the Feast of Presentation, I wrote about letting go of another baby, sending my book off to be published and wondering where it would go. For those of you whose hands […]

    Reply

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I’m Laura Kelly Fanucci. Mother, writer, wonderer. This space is where I explore mothering through writing. It’s where I celebrate how God shows up in the chaos of raising children. It’s where I love to build community with readers like you. Read More…

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If our daughters had lived, we never would have pl If our daughters had lived, we never would have planted this garden. 

There are pockets of beauty in my life today that could not have existed if they had survived.

Acknowledging this does not mean I accept their loss. Or that I wouldn’t trade it all to have them here instead.

But the grieving know this strange, stubborn, saving truth: that goodness can grow in the gaping holes left by the ones we love.

I don’t know any simple ways to make sense of the hard times in which we’re living. As a porous soul, I feel it all and it breaks my heart, even as I cling to what I know is true.

But loving and losing my girls has taught me that life is both heart-breaking and resilient, that surviving is more complicated than we suspect, that most people are walking around shattered beneath the surface.

Sometimes I can catch a glimpse of it, searing as sunlight: the grief in someone’s eyes behind their anger, the burden sagging their shoulders, the past that’s poisoning their present. Few things have transformed my life more than learning to recognize pain in others.

Grief is a long letting go of a life you thought you’d have. Most of us are carrying more of it than we realize—or remember when we’re dealing with each other (especially when we’re tearing each other down).

Go gentle today. Practicing compassion and generosity of spirit will crack open more of the world and its confounding struggles. You might lose the satisfying clarity you clung to before life broke your heart in complicated ways, but you will find more of God in the messy, maddening middle.

I have learned this much from the garden I never planned to plant, from a version of life I never dreamed.
Nearly 20 years ago (!) these crazy kids graduated Nearly 20 years ago (!) these crazy kids graduated from Notre Dame. Now we’re thick in the midst of life-with-kids, celebrating middle school & preschool & everything in between. 
 
Since June is a month for graduations & celebrations, I’m delighted to help you celebrate with @grottonetwork .

Grotto Network shares stories about life, work, faith, relationships, and more. Check out their videos, podcast, and articles to help you reflect on where you are in your journey.
 
Grotto Network has generously given 2-$100 gift cards to Bloomin’ Brands Restaurants (Outback, Carrabba’s, Bonefish Grill & more) to help you celebrate this month with friends & family! It’s a huge giveaway, because we all need to savor and celebrate whatever joy we can find these days.
 
To enter the giveaway, follow @grottonetwork and @thismessygrace and leave a comment below about what you’re celebrating this month. Tag a friend for extra entries (up to 3).
 
Rules: Open to the U.S. only. Entries will be accepted until 6/11/22 at 11:59 pm CT. The 2 winners will be chosen at random and announced on 6/12/22. Per Instagram rules, this promotion is in no way sponsored, administered, or associated with Instagram, Inc. By entering, entrants confirm that they are 13+ years of age, release Instagram of responsibility, and agree to Instagram's terms of use.
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I want to call my mother and ask her impossible questions, to probe her heart that held five children and let each of us go in the hardest ways. But I know what she will say, “It’s hard. But you’re doing a beautiful job.” She can’t give words to the deepest yearnings and groanings. None of us can.

I wish I could ask my grandmothers, each of them gone for decades now, each of them matriarchs who raised big broods of their own. I never got to know them as an adult, but I have heaps of questions: How did you do it? How did you not lose yourself or your way? Or did you, and that was precisely the point?

I want a whole book of answers to impossible questions, and none exists. So I send my thoughts to the mothers of faith whose short stories, mere snippets on pages, have sparked small lights to guide me along. To Sarah and Ruth, Hagar and Rachel, Mary and Elizabeth. Every unnamed anguish the holy ones carried, every treasure of love they held in their heart.

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So I resolve again, a hundred times again, to let this vulnerability become the strength that keeps me fighting for all children to have what I want for my own: life, love, health, safety, support, opportunity, community, hope. This is how parenting asks us to change. To let the particulars of our lives stretch us to love more widely.

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Imagine if we let ourselves be filled with the Holy Spirit to shout out with loud cries.
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Right now is a time to be prophetic and pastoral, a time for each of us to ask how God is calling us to act.
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