Begging a Miracle
I am a cradle Catholic who attended 12 years of Catholic schooling and as a thirty something mother of two I still had no idea what Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament was.
I am a cradle Catholic who attended 12 years of Catholic schooling and as a thirty something mother of two I still had no idea what Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament was.
Recently, the evening prayers I have been saying have been all about God as refuge.
These are the last words that Christ utters from the cross. May they help us, this day, to enter more profoundly into His passion and death.
My grief consumed me even though I knew in Christ there was soon to come rebirth in His Resurrection. Also during that Holy Week, my thoughts were focused on my son who was to celebrate his first Easter Triduum as a priest.
We humans tend to remember where we were or what we were doing at those points in our lives that we received news that we knew would alter the course of history or in the very least mean major changes for our own.
We thanked God for that humble can of jellied cranberries because it was given in a generous out-pouring of love for our family from a community who fully embraces the Works of Mercy.
Like many families, ours enjoys the tradition of celebrating the Feast of Saint Nicholas on December 6 with a “visit” from the beloved saint.
The simple act of having an open-door regardless of the state of one’s home, and a treat ready to share, is something I strive to live out each day.
I had thought, intellectually, about my want and need for a Spiritual Director when my former husband began his crisis of faith a little over 10 years ago.