Three of my kids served the nine o’clock Mass. We took those who were ready, counting on the teens to drive any stragglers later in the day. Sometimes, when I go to Mass, I find it hard to pay attention. I will have one child trying to find pencils, hair bows and pennies on the floor and another who wants conduct reports every five minutes. With a smaller group, it meant I had to tame my monkey mind from its tendency to distraction without the excuse of distractions. It started as a problem. The opening song was one I dislike. I spent the whole procession trying to stop my mind from going off about the song. I didn’t want to sing it. I didn’t want to listen to it. I worried that I would stay in that shallow irritated state.
Fortunately, God has given me these children with all their earnestness. I saw my son make the sign of the cross. He put me in the correct spiritual state to take in more of the Mass. By mid-Mass, I felt teary, as the songs in the middle of the Mass seemed to be speaking directly to my heart and all its longing. By the kiss of peace, I could hold the Mass, the words in my head, and not feel agitated as one child fished through my purse, or another switched places twice.
Would that I could keep that serenity, that sense of this is where I should be and what I should be doing when I leave the church building!
I left Mass not anxious about all the stuff I normally find to be anxious about when we get to Sunday afternoon. (Homework, paperwork, projects, grocery shopping, meetings we will have to attend), etc. Why? Because we had one more day to do it. So Sunday was treated as Sunday should be. We ate together. We played together. We rested together. (Everyone sat on our bed to watch Harry Potter.) I am becoming convinced a world of problems would be eliminated from the world if we just switched over to a mandatory constant three-day weekend. We could get in the sports. We could get in the date night. We could even get in gardening and cleaning, strawberry picking and barbecuing outside. This weekend was restful despite having all of that packed into it.
Come Tuesday, I could hear God saying, “I’m glad you honored the Sabbath this time around, Sherry. Now try to clear things away so next Sunday, you don’t need a free Monday to do it.”
I get it. I agree to it. All faith is grown by first the discovery of the beauty and peace within, and over time, the diligence and obedience to adhere to it. Time to get to work to make it happen. Time to be diligent and obedient. (The slothful part of Sherry sighs).
I still think it would be easier if we just mandated the three day weekends from now on. Happy Small Success Thursday!
Copyright 2016 Sherry Antonetti