Tuesday, April 15, 2014

April 14, 2014- A Good Day

            One week from today.  I thought about it when at 11:05 I was running on my treadmill.  That is about the time I should start my race. I try and see it clearly, but it only makes me want to vomit and I have to go back to my Lamaze deep-breathing exercises again.
            It’s not only Boston, but I also have some big appointments work-wise this week, a big pow-wow with a legal team (not mine, but theirs) about a new project coming down the pike, as well as a huge thing for me that occurred this evening.  For a number of years I have spent time in the silent church praying the Stations of the Cross.  Always as I pray I have thought how much I would like to be able to tell people about all the things I have learned.  I want to share the Pearl of Great Value.  I have thought many times how it would make me so happy to be able to talk to others and let them know about all the things I have found at the wellspring which is the Passion of Jesus and the Eucharist. 
            Tonight was that night. 
            All the eighth grade catechism classes as well as my daddy and husband were there in the church while for over an hour I talked to them about what exactly happened to Jesus during his Sacred Passion.
            Throughout the day leading up to it I mentally battled- again one of those days of anxiety and waves of sadness and God once again lead me first to His mother.  Once again I prayed throughout my morning, Hail Mary… over and over again.  And once again, she leads me to her Son. 
            I was anxious because I could see all the landmines- the traps I could so easily fall into of self-love, self-honor- when it is not at all about me (don’t tell my husband that) but it is all about Jesus.  And I didn’t want to taint the evening and any good that could happen by feeling in my heart that it was about me.  I didn’t want to leave anything out.
            But all I had to do was trust because Jesus took over.  I said all that I came to say.  I told them about the scourging, the agony in the garden, and the great pain He suffered when they stripped Him of His garments.
I told them about the face of Jesus… See Him, put yourself in Veronica’s place and go right up to the Sacred Face… The crown of thorns is imbedded deeply into His skull, the soldiers pounded it in with rods, there is blood streaming down everywhere.  His face has been beaten; His one eye is almost swollen shut.  His lip is distended and cut, His cheeks bruised and bloody.  There are big sections of His beard and hair that have been ripped out. 
            Go up closer and you can see the spittle there from where the soldiers mocked Him.  He is looking directly at you; you can see His blue eyes even though one is so badly swollen.  The tears too are mingled there with His blood.  Look now into that holy of holies, the face of God and tell Him how sorry you are that He suffered so much pain.  Ask Him to help you, so that His face will be forever engrained on your heart, that you will never forget the extent of His love- how if you were the only person that God ever created, He would suffer all that agony and die just for you.  That is how important you are to Him.  You are worth it to Him.   
            The words just come to me, and I felt so blessed and happy to share it all with them.  I was happy my dad could come too. 
            Then later, when we came home my son Simon was there.  He needed some help with his taxes.  It’s the fourteenth.  Nothing like waiting until the last minute but we got it done.  He stayed longer and we talked for quite a while which is not at all usual.  I felt like a parched bit of dirt getting a rare gift of rainfall.  It soaked right in- hearing him tell me about what’s going on in his life, and giving him a bit of advice here and there.  The normal is me grilling for any kind of information about him and his one word answers, “Fine.”  “Good.”  “Yes.”  “No.”  He’s always been my man of few words, but tonight he talked freely about lots of things.  Blessed, blessed moments…
            What a good day.  It was real rough early on but you know, I kind of felt it needed to be, even as I was dealing with the stress- sometimes you have to muscle those crosses so you can better appreciate your life at the end of the day.  And I say: Thank you God.  You are forever faithful.  You sustain me and lead me on right paths for Your namesake.  I scoop up all that has been heaped on me today, the joys, the sorrows, the anxieties, the blessings- and I push them forward with a huge helping of gratitude, right into Your Sacred Heart.    
Simon's graduation from the College for Creative Studies in Detroit

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