Today at mass, before the celebration started, a family of parishioners went to the microphone to read a short prayer and light the first candle on our church's Advent wreath. I sat and watched, with a gleam in my eye, because my mother signed our family up to light the Advent wreath on the last Sunday of Advent. She knows all too well how, since childhood, my brothers and I would fight over who got to light the pink candle. Dearest mother, in her infinite wisdom, picked the Sunday with the most candles to light, and the longest prayer to read, so her children could live in harmony. Far be it from us to let being in our twenties stop us from acting with the heart, soul and maturity of children.
Once I got over myself, and how much cooler our Advent wreath lighting slot is than all the other families who sieged the sign up sheet in the lobby of the church as soon as the elderly secretary made it available, I was able to concentrate on the mass. The homily today was particularly inspiring for me. I wasn't exactly ready for Advent to start. Certainly I welcome it, because it includes fabulous things like purple and pink candles, and my birthday, but I have been so busy being busy that I never took time in my daily prayer to prepare myself.
Thankfully, God puts people in your life to kick you in the butt, and today Father Cristiano did just that. His homily centered on how Advent is a season of self-examination. So here I sit, thinking about how I am going to examine myself, and prepare for advent. Here is what I have come up with so far:
1. Figure out what Advent is
2. Write a blog post about it
3. Pray, pray, pray
4. Keep praying, it's good for you.
I am still working on refining steps 3 and 4. I might add a fifth step, which I think is going to be something along the lines of gloat about getting to light the pink candle because it's on my birthday, but hopefully praying and examining my conscience will refine that step as well.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Offering it Up
I sustained a minor sprained ankle the other night, nothing to be alarmed about. The most painful part of the injury was in my upper body after having to use crutches.
I have to say, I was overwhelmed by the kindness of friends and strangers. I'm not sure if it was my forlorn look of desperation and embarrassment as I awkwardly crutched my way around campus, or if it was my heavy breathing and frequent breaks that had people asking how it happened and if I needed any help.
God has a funny way of bringing delights in little sorrows, like the kindness of strangers. Sometimes those delights are so wonderful you question whether you have ever truly experienced hardship.
I have wonderful friends who kept reminding me that I had the opportunity to offer up my not-really-an-injury injury, and I kept reminding them that I had already complained away any graces I could have gotten from the whole ordeal. It wasn't until the end of the day when someone approached me and asked if I could say a little prayer for someone in their life on my walk/crutch back to campus.
It reminded me that "offering it up" is more than just dealing with pain because you know complaining is annoying and your parents told you to stop every time you asked if we were there yet. I was reminded that offering it up is a purposeful and conscious prayer that unites you to the suffering on the cross. It brings joy amidst suffering, maybe even to the point that suffering is transformed into only a joy.
The swelling is finally going down, and the whining has almost stopped. Now I just need to remember that suffering is more than just physical pain, but in whatever way I am given the opportunity to suffer, I should thank God that I get to live my life a little closer to Him if I can only have the grace to just offer it up.
I have to say, I was overwhelmed by the kindness of friends and strangers. I'm not sure if it was my forlorn look of desperation and embarrassment as I awkwardly crutched my way around campus, or if it was my heavy breathing and frequent breaks that had people asking how it happened and if I needed any help.
God has a funny way of bringing delights in little sorrows, like the kindness of strangers. Sometimes those delights are so wonderful you question whether you have ever truly experienced hardship.
I have wonderful friends who kept reminding me that I had the opportunity to offer up my not-really-an-injury injury, and I kept reminding them that I had already complained away any graces I could have gotten from the whole ordeal. It wasn't until the end of the day when someone approached me and asked if I could say a little prayer for someone in their life on my walk/crutch back to campus.
It reminded me that "offering it up" is more than just dealing with pain because you know complaining is annoying and your parents told you to stop every time you asked if we were there yet. I was reminded that offering it up is a purposeful and conscious prayer that unites you to the suffering on the cross. It brings joy amidst suffering, maybe even to the point that suffering is transformed into only a joy.
The swelling is finally going down, and the whining has almost stopped. Now I just need to remember that suffering is more than just physical pain, but in whatever way I am given the opportunity to suffer, I should thank God that I get to live my life a little closer to Him if I can only have the grace to just offer it up.
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