Riding
high one day, dashed onto the pavement the next. It started first thing this morning- waves of
sadness, upon waves of sadness. Out of
nowhere, and anything I looked at or thought of only made me feel it more. Anxieties about big things and about
nothings. So God gave me the grace to
start praying right away, “Hail Mary…”
Over, and over, and over I prayed.
And I added, “Queen of Peace, pray for us! Mystical Rose, pray for us! Tower of Ivory, pray for us! Refuge of sinners, pray for us!”
All
day, I was bombarded. I thought, because
it was a little milder out, that I would run my three miles outside. That would be a good distraction. It was really slippery and as I ran on the
edge of annihilation my left hip, the dreaded and most feared “deal breaker” of
all, started acting up. It first reared
its ugly head right after my twenty mile run well over a year before as I was
training for Chicago. I got a cortisone
shot then, and it helped just enough to get me through.
There is a lot of stress
associated with preparing to run a marathon, and for the Boston Marathon there
seems to be that much more. The stress
that I feel is not really focused on my time or the pain involved in the
process- but whether my body can hold up for one more round of training.
I have a really crappy
back. From my high school days and
hoisting girls up on my shoulders for cheerleading until now, I have been
painfully attached to my back and its cranky whims. No matter how hard I try, I just can’t seem
to detach my spine and neck from the rest of my torso. I tell ya, there are frustrating times when I
feel like that is my only feasible option.
Could you unzip the back for me please and I can just slink on out of my
vertebrae for a blessed couple of hours?
Of course I’m thinking I won’t be too terribly productive without
it. Someone would have to kinda prop me
up against the wall, stack me in the corner, just be decorative; but by golly I
wouldn’t have to deal with my wonky scoliosis spine!
Today was a really tough
battle. I asked Jesus to let me love
Him, and He gave me the opportunity. I
know that any cross cannot be carried without completely submerging myself in
His Precious Blood. (Learned that one:
as troubles and temptations assail- to turn to His Precious Blood from St.
Catherine of Siena.) I can do nothing
that is good without Him. I can stand
back at the end of this day and see how this was a God-filled day. And it started by being prompted to call out
to Mary. She is my mother that hastens
to wrap me in the mantle of her grace and lead me to her Son.
Certainly was a day far
from perfection, but it is in the falling down and getting back up (thankfully
not literally) that is pleasing to Him.
And that is what it’s all about.
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