Once Jesus was helpless. The Savior and King himself-if you believe in what Christian followers attest to be true-was utterly dependent on Mary. Helplessness. The six puppies that now nurse on our dachshund, Emma, are pretty helpless at this point. They are six days old. Since their eyes haven't yet opened I've felt it my duty to make sure each has his or her own access to breakfast, lunch and dinner. Emma's a small dog so five can fit on one side but there's always one left crying because it can't get a seat at the table.

I'm sure these pups can manage but nursing my worry I make sure the crying stops by helping the blind pups latch on. In the wild, a few would be lucky to survive but since they are here with us, I assist. I'm not a mother so I can only imagine what it must be like to have an infant depend on you for his/her every need. Just like Jesus and the Madonna. In all his infinite power whether it was turning water into wine, healing the sick or saving lost souls, he too was powerless in his mother's care.

Italy is a place where Jesus' impression on humanity is alive in the art world. This July, I was able to call Urbino, Italy home for one month. If not for an internship, I do not believe I would have ever found myself in this walled city. Hidden among the Appennini mountains on the central eastern side of Italia, Urbino is commonly unknown to tourists. High walls encompass Urbino proper. These walls have witnessed hundreds of years of generations pass on its city's namesake.



Rich is Urbino's history. Urbino boasts well known citizens including artist, Raphael. He is celebrated throughout the town and visitors can tour his childhood home which displays Raphael's father's work Annunciation. Raphael's father, Giovanni Santi, was a painter and a poet. Other famous works can be found in this small town including the Last Supper by Federico Barocci located in Urbino's main church. Here, I interviewed the local bishop to inquire about Urbino's patron saint, San Crescentino. The bishop has edited and written many books and now he was telling me about his current endeavor.

I cannot describe the pain I put my tongue through in order to stop cracking a smile or full out bursting into laughter when the bishop began handing over colored 8x10 prints of the Madonna's breast. What made it harder was a translator was helping me understand what the bishop was explaining so as I waited for the interpretation I could not help imagining my own dialogue. A man who vowed celibacy was pointing to Mary's breasts and telling me through the translator that his book would discuss all the images of the Madonna nursing Jesus. "See in this one, Jesus is distracted." The bishop was referring to a scene where Jesus' attention is diverted from feeding time. As John the Baptist plays alongside Mary, he holds Jesus' gaze and has halted his meal.

The bishop of 60-something led me around his office showing photos where he posed alongside Pope John Paul II and Pope Benedict. A serious man but quick to break into a warm smile, I could only wonder how he stumbled upon this idea to write a book about such a quirky subject. Many images of the Madonna nursing exist. Perhaps artists were working to reveal the venerability of Christ that is often not preached about on Sundays.

All in all, I carried home 12 images of Mary nursing. Some show the full breast while others are more modest. The art world in recreating what it imagined Jesus' first days to be like in turn reminds that Jesus too was once helpless.

Below is a more modest image.

This one's for Lucky

*Sometimes saving the best for last isn't what it's cracked up to be. This week our red dachshund-an 11 pound dog-delivered eight beautiful puppies. My husband has never had a dog of his own. He first inherited my silver double dapple doxie, Zeppe. After falling for him, he asked for one that could be "his". So enters Emma. On Tuesday, Emma had six boys and two girls. We branded the last pup born 'Lucky'. Born with a cleft palate of sorts, his chances were limited. He passed away last night. We mourn this loss however we are happy he is no longer struggling. To makes things worse, puppy #7 died this evening. He was the second runt and resembled Zeppe with his silver markings and tri-colored face. These two will be missed and remembered. They now have each other. What amazes me more than ever is the absolute miracle of life. Science can explain how it's done but creating something out of nothing is something we cannot boast to have achieved on our own. The six remaining pups are strong, robust puppies. I acted as a mid-wife during the four hour delivery and I recommend if you don't believe in God, find yourself a birth, watch the miracle of life begin and then please come explain how you do not know there is a God who created all this we call life.

This brought to mind another issue. What age are you in heaven? Is your age determined by what age you die? Do you get to chose which age once you're up there? Or can you change ages depending on your mood for that day and the activities you want to do...today I want to swing or today I want to be with my husband...Or is your spirit ageless in the after life or maybe all ages at once?


You are throw into a marriage with assumptions and love to cover those discrepancies. I mailed my husband's mom the first of our wedding pictures and when mentioning it to him, he asked, "Did you use DHL?"
"Why would I use DHL? No, I sent them regular mail."
He sighed in obvious frustration. "Natalie, my mom isn't going to get those pictures. I told you to use DHL when sending things to Mexico." His tone was edgy.
"No you haven't! What's the big deal? Why don't you trust the mail?"

See my husband was driving me crazy because when we mailed our forms in for immigration, he kept asking if I could triple check to see if they arrived. Why wouldn't they arrive? I thought him paranoid and it has caused a few heated spurts.

This was the moment when I discovered my faulty assumption. His mom didn't get her birthday card. His dad never opened his Father's day card. "Is Mexico's system like Italy?"
"Yes, Natalie, except things don't only take forever but often do not ever show up. To guarantee it, you must use DHL."
Now this is where I said something that I realize after it came out, it wasn't so nice. "So you are telling me that in Mexico, in order to get something delivered, you hire an American company?" I was merely fabbergasted at this reality.
"Yes."
Now it was beginning to make sense. All these fights over using regular mail, the doubts, the paranoia...it all came together. He wasn't crazy after all. I was operating out of a state of complete ignorance.
"Ok, darling. I'm sorry. Here's the deal. The United States Postal System works. What you mail, if the right postage is used, gets wherever it's supposed to go (in the U.S. anyway). I've never had a problem with it. Never. You can trust it." Pause "But from this day on, I understand I must use DHL for Mexico."

Old habits die hard. Just this week, my husband was irritated with me when I sent forms through standard mail letting Homeland Security know our address had changed. He assumed I used certified. He hasn't learned yet to trust the system I trust. So I'll give him time. Just one more lesson in the book of marriage: Don't assume your mates' perception of reality matches your own.

And don't assume everyone is a morning person. I'm not. I like to have my shower or breakfast before bringing joy into the world. My husband wakes up with enough energy to power three or four children. I love his energy. But at 6 am, I do not love it. What I've learned is to keep my mouth closed and think positive thoughts. Also the 30 minute jog he has every morning allows me to prepare to be the loving wife I want to be.

The funny thing about marriage is you pledge your whole life to one person. One person. Your life, love, devotion, loyalty and all those good things we all want out of our relationships. Then one morning you wake up and realize: hey, maybe I'll never be a morning person translation maybe this will never change. But I can appreciate those who are. If nothing else, the early birds get things going. And you can't hate someone who wakes up smiling. Or you can. But I guarantee you'll be missing out. Not to mention expending extra energy you don't even have.

Red hair in Mexico is a sign of bad luck. Accused are guilty until proven innocent in the justice system. Not all police carry guns due to the costs of training and supplying them with weapons. A young policeman was recently killed in San Luis Potosi, Mexico when responding to a house break-in because the thieves were armed and he was not. When a cop pulls you over in my husband's home state, the deal is you hand over a few pesos and go on your way. Bribery isn't a subject of problem.

These are just a few differences I've not forgotten upon visiting his hometown. Walking downtown, I was delighted to see the churches filled to standing room only on a Sunday afternoon. Even young people were present and it wasn't a holiday. Although one weekend I was there, it was a sort of a holiday although I wasn't aware. I thought chaos had erupted on the streets.

It was still dark out and I woke up to the sound of a cannon ball firing. What the...? I laid still and waited. It happened again. Then the church bells started ringing. I'm used to the church bells noting the hour but they started ringing and wouldn't stop. I wondered, "Is this code for emergency like a siren is back home?" I began calling my husband's name.

"Hey wake up, wake up. What's going on!?"
"Nothing."
"Did you hear the cannons?"
"Those are fireworks, Natalie. Go back to sleep. It's a procession."

He resumed snoring before his head hit the pillow. I laid there for the next hour and listened to the festivities. Checking my cell phone, it was 5 am, or was it 4? We fell back the night before and later I found out this was the way of the church to celebrate this change, by singing, parading and firing fireworks down the city street at 5 am.

I'd walked in a procession before in Urbino, Italy. It was an inspiring moment. The faithful walked up a winding mountain chanting prayers and singing hymns as the priest led the way. The purpose of this procession was to transfer a painting of the Madonna from one church to another. Children were dressed up in angel costumes and parents encouraged them to stay together and usher us along the way with their wings. I saw more than one old woman wearing a necklace with a type of locket that displayed a photo of a deceased husband. Its length such that it rested along their heart.

One thing remains known, in any country be it Mexico or what have you, you are bound
to discover intrigue and surprise. Fortunate is one who is able to shed their ways, foods, thoughts, practices, language and find their altered self living among another culture's reality. For it changes and challenges yours forever.

Immigrating to the U.S.

Immigration. My husband and I just successfully finished going through the whole process. But it wasn't without a few big bumps in the road. We hired and fired an immigration lawyer, wrote numerous checks, went to many appointments, but alas we are official in the eyes of the law!

I am an American citizen and had no idea prior to this experience how challenging it is to figure out what to do in this situation. I decided to write this note in case anyone else is going through it or thinking of going through this so you have a better idea of what to expect.

When we married, I thought we'd fill out some paperwork and be done with it! Nope. The Proposal with Sandra Bullock is a cute comedy I recommend but nothing like the actual process!

First of all, our interview (once we got it) was shorter than our wait time in the lobby. I was asked my husband's birthday, how we met, his family's name and we were official a few minutes after he answered similar questions. Now, this is due to the face we were not red flagged so it's not guaranteed but only what happened to us. Of course, I'm starting from the end.

At first, we had to submit tons of information. Tons. I recommend you keep a copy of EVERYTHING. Even if you think it is silly, it's not. We had to resubmit one portion we already mailed in, but thankfully we had copies ready so it was no hassle. Also when you receive your certified official marriage license, go ahead and get another copy because they don't tell you until the end, you need two and this can only be accessed at the court house you applied for the certificate.

Start early. I recommend before you get married, start getting paperwork and documents in order. The site www.uscis.gov offers necessary paperwork and instructions. Calling their toll-free number takes time but agents were able to answer our questions. If you get someone rude on the phone, I would tell them "thanks and good bye" and redial. You are always connected with someone new and usually 2 out of every 3 are helpful. It's better to call than guess. Our understandings were sometimes wrong but agents were able to clear things up.

If you feel you need a lawyer, get testimony from others that he/she is a good immigration lawyer. We made the mistake of going off our lawyer's website where of course he made it look like he was well-versed in this process. However he ended up delaying our paperwork, making mistakes, costing us money and finally we fired him and took up this project on our own. We hired him for peace of mind, but instead were under constant turmoil with his screw-ups. If you take the time to read through the USCIS site and instructions, I believe you can figure it out on your own. But it does take a lot of time, so if you decide to go with the lawyer to save time and effort, be smart about it and always remember you have the right to terminate the contract if he/she does not come through on the terms.

Every case is different, but be prepared to prove you can support your husband/wife by showing the last three tax years. Unfortunately, I was in graduate school for two of the years required so I was not able to prove support. Luckily others, such as family, can elect to support the immigrant so I was able to prove support via my family. His salary could not be used although he supported us and worked legally in the U.S.

In the end, don't give up! It takes a lot of patience. If you have questions, feel free to comment and I'll do my best to answer. The green card came 2 months after we submitted all documents but this does not indicate your time frame. It only serves as an example.

Crossing the Border

"Change is the only constant in a constantly changing world." I heard this quote somewhere and it has stuck with me ever since. In the past year, I've gotten engaged, married, finished graduate classes, moved to a new city, interned in a foreign country, started and quit a new job, successfully gone through immigration with my husband and not necessarily in that order. Needless to say, I've been through a lot of change in a short amount of time.

Communication and change are hard enough, but I'm a newlywed in an international marriage living in a bilingual big city in Texas. I'm an Arkansas girl. I like smaller towns immune to hurricanes. But this new city has its positives. For one, culture. As I'm waiting on my parking meter to accept my debit card, I hear three different languages being spoken around me. I'm in the hub of downtown. I'm meeting my husband for a quick lunch before he has to get back to his busy work day. I have with me a home cooked lunch of Mexican chicken (he loves it but never heard of it before I cooked it) and seasoned potatoes.

I'm bringing this hot lunch as a peace offering. One challenge that awaits newlyweds are expectations. He expects certain things from me I would never think of doing on my own. For example, he likes me to lay out his work clothes for him in the morning. I wash, fold, hang all the laundry. It's organized in our closet. So why the hell should I lay it out for him is what I'm thinking. I grew up in a home where my dad did most of the ironing. My parents shared household chores and I often saw my dad cook and even preferred his cooking most of the time. So you can imagine the argument that ensued upon my refusal (at first) to this idea.

He starts, "I don't understand why you don't want to lay out my clothes. I mean, my mom always did it."
"Well, did your mom SLEEP with you too?"
A look of disdain and shock is alive on his face.
"No, I didn't think so, therefore you are perfectly capable to finding yourself something to wear!"

Call me harsh but this is what I said. I found it childish to not be able to go into a closet and come out with a shirt and slacks. As an independent-minded educated woman, I have never been into the submissive wife, don't question your mate idea. Going to a Baptist college shed light on how many girls are into that. But oh, not me!

Come to find out, my husband can dress himself quite well. After failing to comply with his wish among other expectations we both had for each other, we talked. After working to define our expectations and judging whether they were acceptable or far-flung, I have come to realize laying out clothes isn't so bad. I don't do it every morning but I am beginning to realize it's not about who does this and who does that but rather about making each other feel cared for and loved. He cooks for me. He picks up our dogs' poop. He pays bills as I'm looking for a job. But bottom line, he's there for me. He's my best friend. So am I submissive? Hell no. But more helpful when he asks? Yes. And a hot breakfast was next on the list!

Sure, his country and mine share borders but upon crossing over ours to his, the international divide crept in and will continue to creep in. But who is really to say his idea of the helpful wife and my idea of the independent wife can't find a mutual ground...Mexico. Land of my husband. Land of my love. Land I love.