Monday, March 25, 2013

Hosanna to the King!


Hosanna! Hosanna to the King! Is that how you feel? Are you ready to tell everyone about the King, the Messiah? If you had been there that first Palm Sunday, would you have been in the crowd praising the Son of God, calling him the King of kings, the long awaited Messiah?

What about on Good Friday? Where would you have been: in the crowd shouting “Crucify Him, Crucify Him”, hiding like most of the apostles, or standing up and defending Jesus, even if that meant you too would be killed?

 If we are truly honest with ourselves, the answer would not be the last one. Sadly, I know I couldn’t answer the last one. How do I know? All I have to do is look at the countless times I have not stood up to defend Him in my own life. 

·         How often have I prayed in front of Planned Parenthood or another abortion mill?
·         How often have I joined in peaceful, prayerful protests about things that go against what the Church teaches, whether it be abortion, gay marriage, etc. especially if I know there is a possibility of getting arrested?
·         How often have I told people about the blessing that children are and why the Church teaches artificial birth control is wrong?
·         How often have I told a person about Jesus and His love for them?
·         How often have I said that I forgive someone and yet still hold a grudge?
·         How often have I joyfully lived out my vocation of wife and mother?
·         How often have I followed through with my daily duties?
·         How often have I neglected daily prayers?
·         How often?
Oh, I have failed miserably. I have denied Jesus just like Peter did on that first Holy Thursday evening. I have hidden as the apostles did on Good Friday.

But now, what can I do now? This holiest week of the year I can make a resolution to do better, because unlike the apostles on Good Friday, I know how the story ends…Jesus conquers death, opens the gates of Heaven and is ALIVE!

I know that because of His passion, death and resurrection He forgives me for those times I have failed in showing Him to others. He loves me, died and arose for me. He has given me the Catholic Church so that I can experience His forgiveness and grace in the Sacrament of Penance. He gives me His whole self: His Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity, every time I go to Mass and receive Holy Communion. He gives me all the graces I ask for…I just need to ask.

What about you? Where would you have been on Good Friday? Even more importantly, where are you now? If you haven’t already, go to confession, tell Jesus how you denied Him, how sorry you are. Ask God for the grace to say, “Yes, this is the King, the Messiah”, not just on Palm Sunday, but on Good Friday, too.  Celebrate this Holy Week knowing that everything He did, He did for you. Then show Him your love. Because after all, you too know how the story ends.

Friday, March 22, 2013

When Mom is Sick

Today's Cast of characters: Dearest Husband - almost older than dirt
                                          Myself - as old as dirt
                                          Mr. Scientist- 10 yo
                                          Miss Dancer- 8 yo
                                          Destructo Boy- 4 yo

You never know what may happen when mom is in bed, sick...

After taking care of a sick and vomiting Miss Dancer all night, I was exhausted and feeling nauseous myself, so I stayed in bed and let the kids get their own breakfast. When I went to the kitchen, a short time later, there was a margarita glass full of lemon juice and an egg floating in it. Yes, Mr. Scientist had been at it again.

Later, I took a short nap and I remember hearing Mr. Scientist and Miss Dancer making Chicken Noodle Soup. Then Mr. Scientist said the soup was hot enough because Destructo Boy couldn't keep his finger in it. I know, most "good" moms would have jumped up to make sure their 4 yo was OK and finish the soup. Well, I didn't (think what you want) and then I heard, yep it is 103 degrees. Drifting back to sleep I wondered how he knew.

After I awoke, I had some saltines in bed hoping they would settle my stomach. At that time Destructo Boy touched Mr Scientist's experiment, a little too hard. He pinched, or squeezed depending on who you ask, the top of the egg and it broke.

To keep Destructo Boy from turning into a science experiment, I decided I had better get up. There were dishes to do so I got busy. Empty margarita glass- reminder of the failed experiment, candy thermometer-so that was how he knew the soup's temp and a turkey baster-what? where was that from? Do I even want to know? Probably not. All the kids we're alive and seemed unharmed. Sometimes don't ask don't tell is a good phrase for a mom to remember...especially a sick mom.