Just moments before he had been running a little car up and down the pew when he'd noticed the Stations of the Cross on the wall. He whispered to his mom and gestured towards them. She leaned down and whispered in his ear and he turned towards the crucifix, with his tiny pointer finger raised and said, "That guy?"
Now, his little hands gripped the ciborium and his eyes focus on his destination as he made his way towards the priest. The priest who has explained to us that the procession of gifts is about our journey towards Christ.
As his two little hands reached out to meet the priest's the gap between the giver and receiver held something so earnest and innocent that tears welled up and pooled at the corners of my eyes. It was a blink your eyes and miss it moment.
Occasionally I get the impression from some people that they feel sorry for me stuck in the boon-docks in a tiny church with a handful of people showing up on a good Sunday. A church where someone needs to go early and turn up the heat so we can get through the Mass with our coats off. But no one can orchestrate moments like the one described above. They are pure gift and I receive them gratefully; the gap between the giver and receiver holds so much promise.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Yesterday as I drove to my home group meeting I prayed to be able to share with honesty and humility. Sometimes I care too much what others think. Sometimes I get so self absorbed that I forgot that it's not all about me. I had to think about this video and know it to be true. When someone looks like the poster child in AA I don't trust them. It doesn't stop me from wanting to be one. I know - so full of ego. And fear. And pride. There is someone in one of my meetings who comes across as a poster child. I don't trust them. Occasionally the person shares from the gut. Those times I think to myself, okay, I can trust you, now. The only way I can quiet what is going through my head at a meeting is to decide not to share. That frees me to listen to others. So when I was called on to share I talked from my gut. About waking up in the night and feeling scared and having a talk with God about that. That relatioship is where my hope comes from.
Saturday, April 14, 2012
It's snowing to beat the band out there as I type. I'm disappointed to miss my home group meeting this morning because of the resulting wretched roads. The change in plans most likely means a quiet day with bits of housecleaning and cooking and the simple things that fill me with the most contentment. I am pretty grateful these days for those things. People keep telling me that getting older is the pits and I keep replying that getting older is a gift, a privilege that not everyone gets to experience.