Good Friday

One of my New Year's resolutions was to go to confession once a month. I went in January and February, and then I did not go at all during Lent. I resolved to go to at least one "extra" Mass every month besides Sundays and Holy Days of Obligation, and so far I've been able to do that, but then again it's still only April. (I don't know about you but when I'm at Mass, there isn't anywhere else I want to be. Even on days when I'm distracted, not paying attention, nodding off during the homily, thinking about all of the things that need to get done--at Mass I'm truly home.) I even told myself I'd go to Holy Thursday Mass, but as usual, that did not happen. We (I) treated Holy Thursday just like any other ordinary day. I dropped the kids off at school and went to work and ran errands and gossiped and worried and made mistakes and took the boys to tae kwon do and did laundry and plopped my lazy self down on the couch when there was work to be done. And every Holy Thursday night, after the Eucharist--which we Catholics believe to be the body, blood, soul, and divinity of Jesus Christ--is taken from the church and brought to our parish hall until midnight when it's (He's) taken away (laid in the tomb) until Easter Vigil, I always, always, make an effort to go and spend a few minutes with Him, no matter how tired I am from the day. Last night I didn't even do that.

Often I have a hard time sleeping, fussing over things to be done, things I wish I hadn't done, things I wish I had or hadn't hadn't said, things that I've been putting off that should have been done yesterday. I think, if the world ends today all of our troubles will be over. When we all get to Heaven everyone will love each other and nobody will see anyone's faults or past mistakes, only the beauty that God made in each one of us. At times I've even found myself wishing God would speed things up a bit already. But I realize that there is still much work to be done. God wants us to face challenges and learn from our mistakes and love each other and stand up for the weak and feed the poor and clothe the hungry and encourage those who need encouragement.

It's almost Easter. I'm ready. (And I can get on Facebook again. Oh, and I can get on Twitter and tell all my followers to PLEASE vote for Gavin on Dancing With the Stars, 'cuz he's hanging on by the skin of his teeth and I REALLY don't want him to be eliminated this week. The number is 1-800-868-3404.)

All silliness aside, I hope you all have a blessed Easter. Today, Good Friday, may we all be filled with the hope that Christ's resurrection brings. He's alive. He's prepared a place for us. We are His.

The 7 Quick Takes That Wasn't

1. I really wanted to publish a 7 Quick Takes post tonight. I have all kinds of thoughts in various word documents on my computer, waiting for me to organize and compile them into a summary of seven ways that technology has enhanced my spiritual life in one way or another. I want to tell you about certain apps I have on my phone and my iPad, some I use all the time, and some that I want to learn how to make better use of. I want to tell you about some websites with fancy interactive prayers and scriptural Rosaries. I want to share some of the Catholic books that I've downloaded and read on my iPad Kindle app. And I want to ponder the question, am I relying on technology too much, and is it really bringing me closer to God? And how I miss the days when I would just sit quietly with a cup of coffee, my Bible, and a Rosary.

Instead I'm giving you a few random takes about other various things and hope that post will materialize between now and next Friday.

2. I'm actually kind of excited about my New Year's Resolutions, even though I've made way too many. Last year I made only one: To go on a gluten free diet sometime during 2011. Right before the beginning of Lent, I took the plunge and I've never looked back. (Well, maybe I have looked back just a little: all the times I've opened a gluten free beer for myself and a Fat Tire for Larry, wishing I could have one of those instead; making chocolate-chip cookies for everyone else, and wishing I could have just one; when the server in a restaurant brings out steaming hot bread, and darn it, I wish I could have some...) I've also decided that if I'm going to keep any of my resolutions, I'd better not push myself to try and implement all of them at once. Like that exercising 20 minutes thee-times-a-day thing? Hasn't happened yet.

3. I went to confession last night. I'm hoping--it isn't really a New Year's Resolution, but almost--to take advantage of the Sacrament of Reconciliation more often--once a month, ideally. I'm thinking maybe on the Wednesday before First Friday...we'll see if I can keep that one. For the first time I took my phone into the confessional with me, with my list of sins I generated with the help of the confession app. In the confessional I told Father I was trying out the app for the first time and I'm not sure if I liked it or not. Young Twenty-something Father B laughed and said he prefers the manual version, but if I wanted to use the app that was fine with him.

My take on the confession app: I have it on both my iPad and my Android phone. It's a great tool for my examination of conscience, but I think I'd have to agree with Father: I'd rather write down my sins and bring that with me rather than trying to fumble with my mobile device.

I wrote this in my journal last week:

After receiving the Sacrament of Reconciliation, I feel more grateful to God for His gift of forgiveness, and I'm overwhelmed at how much He loves me even though I don't deserve it. I'm kinder to everyone around me.

Boy, is that the truth! Each time I go I feel just a little bit closer to Christ. I didn't want to leave the church afterward; I just wanted to sit with Jesus. And I have been kinder to everyone today, I think, including myself.

4. I wanted, in my 7 Quick Takes Post That Wasn't, tell you about my new efforts with a prayer journal and how I'm using technology (Microsoft Word and the Internet) to do that as well. A few thoughts I wrote--er, typed--down last week:

Do people know I'm a follower of Christ? They hear me talk the talk and say nice words but what do they see? Too often they don't see much of anything, I fear.

What star guides me toward the Lord? My family. My gift? My willingness to do whatever I need to in order to help them on their journey toward Him, so that they will reach Heaven.

Jesus is the Bread of Life. My Sunday School teachers used to tell me that I received the Bread of Life by reading the Bible. I know it's more than that, of course, but those times when I used to read the Bible every day (or nearly) I felt closer to God and much more at peace.

And this:

Years ago when I rationed coffee to myself (and only drank wine on the weekends, and exercised regularly) I used to pray, "Hey, Mary, I'm tired and I still have a lot to do before retiring. Could I get some extra energy to get through the rest of the day, like a second wind? Thanks." It always worked.

This week I've been saying this prayer almost every evening. And it does work, just like before.

5. Guess What!

It's still Christmas!

Happy Epiphany, and have a wonderful weekend!

And please visit Jennifer's Conversion Diary blog for more Quick Takes.

Merry Christmas From Our Family

In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that the whole world should be enrolled. ...And Joseph too went up from Galilee from the town of Nazareth to Judea, to the city of David that is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and family of David, to be enrolled with Mary, his betrothed, who was with child. While they were there, the time came for her to have her child, and she gave birth to her firstborn son. She wrapped him in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.

Now there were shepherds in that region living in the fields and keeping the night watch over their flock. The angel of the Lord appeared to them and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were struck with great fear. The angel said to them, “Do not be afraid; for behold, I proclaim to you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For today in the city of David a savior has been born for you who is Messiah and Lord. And this will be a sign for you: you will find an infant wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.”And suddenly there was a multitude of the heavenly host with the angel, praising God and saying:
“Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”


When the angels went away from them to heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let us go, then, to Bethlehem to see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to us.” So they went in haste and found Mary and Joseph, and the infant lying in the manger. When they saw this, they made known the message that had been told them about this child. All who heard it were amazed by what had been told them by the shepherds. And Mary kept all these things, reflecting on them in her heart. Then the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, just as it had been told to them.

(Luke 2: 1, 4-20)

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Unworthy

I can't imagine why you would want to see me right now. What have I done to deserve being here with you? Nothing, except screw up again and again. You've done everything for me, even gave up your life. You prayed for me and endured unspeakable suffering because you love me. Why? You knew I was going to betray you and deny you and ignore you.

Right now I'm out here and you're in there. It's nice and dark and quiet out here--but not too quiet; I hear the katydids and the crickets making their music. Their lives are simple. They don't feel the need to please anyone; they just go about their business with joy and purpose, and they're not afraid to sing your praises for all the world to hear. In there it's bright and utterly silent. I can see you through the glass doors, waiting. Usually I'm eager to come see you. I stride through the doors with confidence and anticipation. I look forward to each visit. But tonight I hesitate. Who am I kidding? Have I been trying to fool myself all these years into thinking I'm a good and holy Catholic because I say my prayers and come to Mass and visit you in Adoration? Have I been trying to fool you? If I come in you'll see me in the light and then you'll really know who I am.

Maybe I'll stay here in the dark. Your Mother is out here, a statue of her, anyway; she'll understand. Maybe I'll just have her tell you hello and that I stopped by, but you were busy listening to the prayers of those more worthy than me. But I know what she'd say. Go on, he's expecting you. He knows your heart. Do you think you have more sin than anyone else? Besides, He'd be awfully disappointed if you walked away.

So I come. And when it's time to go, I don't want to. I want to stay here all night to make up for all the hurtful things I've said and done; for all the times you were hungry and I didn't feed you, lonely and in prison and I didn't visit you; a stranger and I did not welcome you. Go on home, I hear you say, and get some sleep. Remember that I'm always with you and I always love you. But before you go, would you stop by and say hello to my mother? She's been longing to see you, too.