this clutter of soup pots and books

My nightstand—it’s a wishlist and a reproach. There are so many things to do; but, usually it feels like
there’s no time to do anything well. If my day was a song, I often feel like it would be uber-nerd music,
where one musician after another goes off on a tangent until you've lost the through-line altogether.

I know many others share this deep longing to “...sanctify time, to consecrate the phases of our
day” (The Everyday Catholic’s Guide to the Liturgy of the Hours). In The Quotidian Mysteries: Laundry,
Liturgy and “Women’s Work,” Kathleen Norris likens housekeeping to a monk’s life, where repetition is
considered a great blessing and an opportunity for sanctification. (so, motherhood = jackpot) The thing is, I not only have the blessed monotony of daily chores, I also have the chief Makers of Messes to consider. Sure, I can montessori-share tasks with my children. But can our family hunger for God together? Can we sanctify our day?

Tree

It is foolish

to let a young redwood 

grow next to a house.

Even in this 

one lifetime,

you will have to choose.

That great calm being,

this clutter of soup pots and books—

Already the first branch-tips brush at the window. 

Softly, calmly, immensity taps at your life.

Jane Hirshfield

I love that the Catholic Church thinks of the Liturgy of the Hours as Part 2 of the official, public worship of the Church. That it’s a “we” not an “I” act. Parenthood can make our world shrink and I think that this can make it big again, for us and for our children.

Still it feels overwhelming. I need to know how other families are doing it, especially ad-lib-hot-mess-moms like me. I started reading Micha Boyett’s book, Found. Micha is a San Francisco mom who was influenced by  Kathleen Norris. She used to write a blog called “Mama: Monk” but now you can find her at michaboyett.com. This is from her book, Found:

“...Saint Benedict listed eight times, or ‘hours,’ for prayer in his rule...

When the bell chimes the hour for prayer, a monk heeds the call and

returns to God’s presence... I can make my life like theirs, I realize. I

think about my day at home with August, our liturgy of sorts: breakfast,

play, snack, play, lunch, nap, dinner, sleep. What if every shift in our

schedule was a call to prayer, a bell chiming my return to God?” (p.19)

On her blog, thewinedarksea.com, Melanie Bettinelli talks about how she does the divine office with her family. She reads morning prayer out loud, explaining the meaning of the psalms, hymns and antiphon to any child who happens to be listening and in the mood to ask questions. She says that when she does this, it is the best experience of lectio divina she ever has.

There are many forms of the Liturgy of the Hours—or Divine Office, Book of Common Prayer, Lutheran Book of Worship, etc. And, thanks to technology, we have greater access than ever. Just this morning I downloaded a great app called “Divine Office,” created by Surgeworks, Inc. I’m just beginning this practice, so I’m no expert. But I do know, as in Hirshfield’s poem, that immensity is tapping at my life and at the lives of my husband and children. I long for this reality to set the rhythm of my days. The Liturgy of the Hours has been a part of the Church’s worship since its beginning. So this will be my beginning each day, too. I
can pray with others, many others, with the language used to usher in each Hour, "God, come to my assistance. Lord, make haste to help me.”