Making Way For Joy, Part II

Well, I did warn you that I probably had another post coming concerning this topic, so if you unwittingly stopped by my blog porch and are not in the mood for more of my musings please know that I perfectly understand ~smiling~ I hope I will be coherent as much of this seems to be surging and recessing in my mind's eye all day long as I teach, read to, feed, clean up after, affix endless bandaids to skinned body parts, and love this wondrous family of mine.

Three weeks ago as evening fell upon the house and baths, stories, prayers, and many hugs were finished, that deep, peaceful quiet took its place. My dearest was half reading his Wall Street Journal and half watching one of the first Monday night football games. I decided to leave him to his leisure knowing we'd have our chat as we turned into bed later that night.

I walked into our kitchen and turned on the kettle for some tea. I signed a permission slip for Bridget. I picked up a toy truck, a stray tennis shoe, and a sweater and carried them to the keeper basket for putting away the next day. I wandered down the hall, turned on a night light for any possible nocturnal visits to the bathroom by the children. I walked into my bedroom to put a book on my night table when I looked up and saw my little statue of Mary that is always by my side of our bed. For no sane reason tears sprang to my eyes. I had not known that I was feeling heavy in the heart and yet obviously I was carrying something in there.

I heard the tea kettle whistle so I padded back into the kitchen to fix my cup of chamomile with just a touch of honey. Perfect. I peeked in on hubby in the den, he looked up and winked at me, I just smiled back, and left him to his game. I went back to the Blessed Mother for just a little visit. I thought to myself "well, I'll just let her show me what's going on with me. Maybe there's someone I should be praying for."

What came to me was a flood of gratitude. Large, full feelings of just complete amazement at this life that dear one and I share and how much I love him and our peanut patrol. I think that perhaps when one has come through a time of trial that sense of gratitude can be heightened. Everyday life in it's normalcy and simplicity suddenly seems like the miracle it is.

As I allowed my thoughts to unwind for a few moments longer in her inviting and gentle presence I indeed realized there were many prayers in my heart for many people. I started to feel a little anxious and overwhelmed as to how I was going to remember them all and avoid that circumstance where my prayers center around my life only. Should I start a notebook with a list of the prayer intentions? Should I send Mass cards?

I lifted my eyes and rested them, again, on the countenance of our Lady and suddenly remembered a little pamphlet I'd received in the mail a few days prior. I walked back down the hall and retrieved it from the credenza that is the catchall for mail I need to process. I took it back to my perch in my bedroom and read all it had to say about the Mass being the most universal and important prayer we can pray. It was encouraging daily Mass and holy communion. Yes, I started to think, but it's not easy to pray with cheerios being dropped to the floor and having to retrieve the little books the children bring along to Mass when we do make it to the church during our busy week.

My eyes then fell upon the words speaking of the early morning Mass being especially effective as it gives our day that supernatural beginning. That's when it hit me that I could attend the early a.m. Mass and still be home before dh had to leave for work and the children needed breakfast. At that moment I just sort of knew what our Lady was gently suggesting.

The next morning I gathered my bag and a sweater, knowing the church is frigid in the warmer months because of the air conditioning running at full blast and began to head out to holy Mass. Then I became a little jittery, not wanting to walk out to the van in the early morning blackness, so I quickly went to our bedroom and asked my sleepyhead dh if he wouldn't mind coming to the front door to watch me safely to the van, which he did, with a comically grouchy look upon his face but with not a word of complaint. Within the oneness of marriage the graces from prayer are indeed shared between the two ~smiling~.

I made Mass that morning and have been there every morning since. This is the safe recepticle of heaven on earth where I have found the refuge within which to place all those prayer intentions in my heart for those I love and care about and all the concerns for our world, and for my own dear family.

Have I ever mentioned that God is good? Hail Mary, full of grace!

God Love You and Keep You