This is my current song to belt in the car when I’m singing along to my iPod. My former father-in-law used to exhort me to remember whose I am, and I can answer that easily: “I’m a child of God–yes, I am!”
A friend told me about this Twitter thread yesterday in which some idiot was going off on people for eating fish on Friday and telling them to be vegan instead because that takes effort.
Wow. Way to have a crappy witness to the beauty of Catholicism. I’m sorry that eating fish on Friday isn’t a sacrifice for you because it is for a lot of people for whom the act of limiting their food choices that much causes them to think about what feeds them spiritually. You come across as a sanctimonious twit.
Then, I saw a news report about wine not being served in Catholic churches due to COVID-19. People were responding that wine is never served in Catholic churches, causing me to facepalm because people are making pedantic remarks about how it is the BLOOD, not merely serving wine. Y’all, I know the difference (and my church is in the same situation where we’re restricting the Cup), but making catty remarks is not helping y’all convey the beauty of Catholicism.
I’m actually not having a bad week, but I’ve needed to just go back to bed the last two mornings because living my life is exhausting me so much. The one-year anniversary of my grandmother’s passing was Tuesday, and I know something in my soul is feeling it even if I’m not incredibly weepy.
Sometimes, we just have to rest and let God heal things while we do so.
Yes, this is another backdated post. I had a busy day yesterday and didn’t get time to ponder things until late last night.
First thing: go read this. It is brilliant and talks about the pro-life aspect of the coronavirus fears. It also very easily explains why this post makes me stabby 5 years later. (The tl;dr of it is that the poster claims that mumps/measles/chicken pox aren’t things to worry about because she and her sister got them and turned out OK. It ignores the fact that some people who get them end up in really bad situations like losing their hearing or losing their babies.)
I got this email from my parish last night. The tl;dr of it is that we’re implementing protocols to limit the spread of COVID-19 in the parish. Regular parishioners will not receive the Blood, there will be no physical contact during the Peace, no Eucharistic Visitors are being sent out to shut-ins, we are not passing offering plates, counters are wearing gloves while counting the money, and the coffee hour hosts will wear gloves while serving the food. It feels a little bit like overkill to me, but I get why they’re doing it. We are an older parish and there is the potential for people to spread the virus is definitely present. We already have hand sanitizer stations in the church, so I predict those will be getting a lot of use.
The “no physical contact” during the Peace is kind of sucky for me because it’s the one time in the week that I get hugged, and it’s hard to explain why that is so important given that “physical touch” is #4 on the love languages test for me. Having been married and now divorced, I am admittedly a little bit starved for physical touch, and I’m also a huggy type of person.
However, I get why they’re being so careful (and I’m pretty sure this a diocese-wide thing) because the pneumonia that landed me in the hospital last year was from metapneumovirus, a pissy little cold virus given to me by Daniel that caused me to go from zero to sepsis in three days. I was in an isolation room for three days until they could figure out what I had, and that meant that anyone coming into my room had to gown/mask/glove up. My grandmother was in hospice at the time, so my poor mom would go see her for however long and then come see me (and bring me fresh pajama bottoms and underwear) before going home and taking care of my kid. I went back to work 3 days after getting out of the hospital, which was a stupid move because walking across the parking lot and then across campus would cause cough-to-vomit spasms for me for at least two weeks after my hospital discharge. If my pneumonia had been from COVID-19, I would have spread the virus without intending to do so.
Am I afraid of getting it? Not especially. Despite living in Washington state which has had 11 deaths from it, I’m not afraid because I already do things like wash my hands with soap for 20 seconds, use hand sanitizer if I’m not able to wash my hands immediately, I don’t go into doctor’s offices unnecessarily nor visit hospitals/nursing homes, and I’m doing well in my New Year’s intention to take good care of myself. Those who have died were elderly people with other severe conditions, and I’m not in that category at the moment after having my hysterectomy last fall and stopping my clotting disorder/anemia. Does it mean I’m taking a completely laissez-faire attitude? No.
Hoping that the COVID-19 threat passes soon and that we don’t have any other deaths in the state.
Yes, this is getting backdated. I’m trying to post something every day, even if I’m posting it late due to being dead exhausted.
When I was kneeling for prayer this morning, it hit me that the point of prayer isn’t to say flowery words or specific things. The point is to simply show up. We have a God who loved us enough to sacrifice His son. We have a friend in Jesus who wants to spend time with us.
If I could, I’d be taking some coffee to church this morning and having a coffee date with Jesus.
Yesterday (March 1) was the 9th anniversary of this. Yeah, this also happened, but it was the worst day of my life and it has only been in the last two years that I have been able to talk about it without sobbing.
Yesterday was also the 5th anniversary of me being confirmed in the Episcopal Church. A day that was wrenching 4 years earlier is now also a day when I get to celebrate my decision to affirm my faith.
It never ceases to amaze me how God continually redeems the worst days of our lives…
I mentioned on Thursday night that I had no excuse not to sing my own piece of the Great Litany today… and I did. I also had the experience of opening my mouth and having nothing come out of it, so I asked the person beside me (who was the musician from Wednesday) if he’d sing that section with me. I got myself back together and did the rest of my share of the petitions in my very quiet and breathy head voice which doesn’t project well… but is still mine. Surprisingly, life went on and my choir director gushed later about how proud she was of me for not panicking and keeping going.
This is why I sing in a choir, y’all. The person next to me held my hand while I was singing my sections because I was completely terrified, and he hugged me when it was all over, despite the fact that we’re in Washington state and dealing with COVID-19 hysteria. This is what all of my choir members are like and why I make choir practice a priority, even when I am dead tired.
Someone (not St. Augustine) made the comment that he who sings has prayed twice. They weren’t kidding, especially with the Great Litany today! It covers every possible need… and then a few.
Still, I really prefer to sing with other people. There is something amazing about joining voices with other people that gives me a glimpse of heaven.