We were pushing the girls this morning (for noon Mass) to eat, shower, dry their hair, take turns dressing our pre-schooler and combing her knots, and left for Mass with damp hair and three minutes to spare. Good thing it's two miles away.
We got to church during the opening hymn, which I count as on time, and squeezed past an obviously displeased older woman who had positioned herself at the end of the last pew.
There should be an unwritten law that the last pew in a church with no crying room, belongs to families with squirmy youngsters. She left early.
And I thought it was a relatively well behaved Mass. Christina, the 4 year old, was happy cuddling with Daddy, and all I had to contend with were the 9 and 13 year old girls' quiet squabbles. Can the Sign of Peace turn into a torture session? Unfortunately, yes.
The priest in his homily reminded us that "no one knows the day or the hour when we will be called home, so live each day thankful for those we love, and for the gift of life."I looked sideways and the sunlight was beaming on my clean, well-dressed family, all together at Mass. We are truly blessed!
Later, as Christ was present at the supreme moment of grace in the consecration, I offered Him my family, such as it is, and asked Him to re-make us in His image. Again.
I had a beautiful communion, and left the church as I normally do, lighthearted and ready to do my mothering this week.
Isn't it wonderful to be a Catholic?!