Sunday, April 15, 2012

Reality Check

I took Mr. Oram to work this morning at 6:30am, so that I could have the car for the day until I came until work later. Couldn't get back to sleep when I got back, and so for the rest of the day as I've done my work (sung one Mass, worked on next year's youth ministry budget, planning for tonight's youth ministry meeting), I've been thinking "oh I'm so tired, oh I'm so achy, gosh I wish I could go to bed, I hate that my husband has to work weekends" and on and on and on.

Then I got the chance to talk to one of my teens. She's in tears as soon as she sees me and tells me what's going on in her life. It's painful, horrible stuff - soul-forming, gut-wrenching really grown-up type of stuff. It's the same kind of horrible things I had to face at her age, that I swore I would never let my kids face at her age, that I have dedicated a small part of my life to trying prevent youths from experiencing at any age. It broke my heart.

Me in college with two of my best guy friends, pre-Catholic

I'm so proud of her for coming to Mass today, even though what she wants to do is stay home and shut out God forever. I'm so proud of her for talking to me, even though she probably didn't want to hear what I might have to say. I'm so proud that when I said, "this Church is your family, will always be your family," her response was a smile and a nod and "I know."

Thank you, Jesus. Thank you for Divine Mercy Sunday, for bringing that teen here today, for providing that sweet child of yours a chance to hear your message that your Love overcomes all sins, all fears, all obstacles, even death. Thank you that I have left my former life behind, that I'm no longer a lost 19 year old looking for truth amidst lies, that you have brought me to a place of healing, redemption, and peace. Thank you for my husband and the child in my womb, because these were dreams I cherished in my broken heart even at my worst.

My reality is Good. I can only bear witness to what Jesus' saving power and press deeper into the heart of our Wounded Healer.

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