Still
Growing up where I did, where Catholic churches are located every few miles, we had the luxury of deciding what time to go, what church, and even what priest.
Growing up where I did, where Catholic churches are located every few miles, we had the luxury of deciding what time to go, what church, and even what priest.
He wants us to use the bad to create more good. He wants us to pick up the crosses we have to bear and TAKE THEM WITH US while we follow Him.
Carrying our crosses. I haven’t been carrying mine very well. Unless whining, stomping feet, crying, and turning my head away from them is the epitome of “very well.” No? You sure?
A mom of older children once cautioned that I should enjoy the exhaustion of mothering toddlers because one day I would have teenagers and would wish for that time back. Oh, how I laughed at that notion.
Like the best of mothers, the Blessed Mother wants our knots undone. Her Immaculate Heart wants what is best for our hearts.
Putting people in boxes has never been my “thing.” It’s never all that neat, as we all belong (and rightfully so) in far too many boxes.
I’ve healed from the losses of miscarriages, but many moms are likely out there, still reeling in the grief and despair of the choices they’ve made.
Forgiveness allows us to start fresh, to heal the wounds we’ve been hanging onto, and hopefully to stop the cycle of transgression.
The honor paid to sacred images is a'”respectful veneration,’ not the adoration due to God alone.