I’m reeling this morning. I am back to listening to the Memento Mori playlist on spotify because I live generally close to the edge and every now and I get pushed off.
This morning it was the homily. Not what the priest said. He said very nice things, exhortations and whatnot. It was what he chose not to say. That he encouraged us to point the finger to ourselves, address our consciences, not treat the powerful better than the little guy. In between the gaps, I raged, desperate for him to say, “and your shepherds have failed at this, but a lot of us are trying.”
The quote from St. Catherine of Siena travels around Facebook, “We’ve had enough of exhortations to be silent! Cry out with a hundred thousand tongues. I see that the world is rotten because of silence.”
I am home now; I have to refocus. I cannot walk around in a rage all day. I can send off my emails, schedule to meet with a priest, who is himself speaking out, to balance my perspective and focus on what is closest to me.
They say to think of things you’re grateful. I’m going to review the photos from the week. The world seems to be falling down around us, but the good things remain, even in this crisis. I learned that as my child was pumped full of antibiotics in his early life and when we buried our daughter. I can remember now, even as I try to understand how men can be so evil.
At the fullness of time, God created a woman, born without sin, knowing this woman, full of grace, would allow him to work his wonders of her life and, subsequently, change the world.
On September 8 we celebrated the Birth of Mary.
I suppose because birthday days matters around here, we celebrate her’s too.
This year I made a Sour Cream Coffee Cake.
And it actually turned out.
And we honored our Queen, queen because she is the mother to the King of the Universe.
That event became the unofficial beginning of fall in our home.
Pumpkins from the garden.
Sunflowers from the garden.
The return of the “Beatus Autumnum” which means Blessed Fall.
I experiment with this concept of “selfies,” aka, the self-portrait. This might sum up life right now.
Some photographs are better blurry than in focus. I’ll take it. My children delighted in the enormous balloon acquired following Edible Extravaganza.
This is what matters. I have to sort out the mess of my heart. In the meantime, there is laundry to fold, smiles to savor and little people to tend to.
I’ll take that, too.
