If the Shoe Fits...

Last evening, a I was asked to be lector. I was in scrappy pants and a t-shirt with a hole it in. And sandals. I asked her, "Are you sure?" She said, "It's evening Mass, you look just fine." Twice again, I said, "These other people can read." She had made up her mind. And then I looked at the Scripture: Vigil for the Birth of John the Baptist.
First reading: Jeremiah 1:4-10
To whomever I send you, you shall go
whatever I command you, you shall speak.
Have no fear before them,
because I am with you to deliver you, says the LORD.
Psalm 71:
Since my mother’s womb, you have been my strength.

And I am a bit embarrassed about my appearance while I am reading, my hair keeps falling in my face and I finally give up on it and my breath kind of makes it bounce while I am reading. Horrors! But oh my sweet Lord, how I love the passages You are allowing me to read! And I begin to float a bit in my head as I return to my seat.
Deacon Jack speaks about John the Baptist...how he lived in the desert and ate locusts and wild honey. Frankly, that is very healthy food for our bodies. And then I start to think, John looked more than a little bit wild out there in the desert...so maybe it wasn't so inappropriate to read last night.

It is not up to me to question God's requests of me. It is my obligation and my promise to do what He tells me to do. And if I am humiliated by my own actions, then that was what was supposed to be. I suppose I have a right to question God, but He has no obligation to answer me. Yet, it seems He usually does. He sometimes explains it all to me...and other times, I just have to let go and trust. Sometimes once I let go and trust, then He explains it to me.

When we hold on too tight, we can lose everything. All things must be held gently and lovingly, for they are all little treasures given by God to us for a time...eventually we must give them back to Him. Like reading aloud...or husbands or wives...or best friends...or maybe our ability to play tennis or golf. They eventually all go back to Him who made us.

But if they do, then we should know that they never really leave us. Because we go back to God, too. Everything that is taken away from us will be returned to us someday. At least every good thing...the other things...ah, well, those are the things we need to discard anyway. Make sense?

Yesterday, I worked a funeral for a woman who, on Tuesday we had a great talk and she received Holy Communion. The next day, we talked about the times we shared over the months while I was doing this ministry. She said, I'm not feeling too well today and I asked, do you want Communion? and she said yes. The next day she was in ICU and we did not speak again.

This life and death thing. It is wonderful and terrible. Before we were formed in the womb, God knew us. And then, in a day, the flower fades and his place no longer knows him. Really life is a gift. It has a beginning and an ending. And what we do in the middle matters.

The funeral was so beautiful, perhaps touched me deeply because the music, the musicians, were exquisite. I was caught up in the sounds that remembered her life. I heard my own father's voice in the cowboy who sang the Our Father, and I remembered better times with my Dad. And the woman who sang, something about her...I haven't made the connection yet, but she also touched my soul.

It allowed the rest of the day to be better. I attended a Social Justice meeting in the evening and we talked about the fear of not knowing or understanding people who are different from us. Sometimes I think we would be better served if we threw out the term "social justice" and replace it with "hospitality." No one can argue with hospitality. The hospitality that Abram showed the strangers allowed him to be the father of the nation of Israel. Go figure.

This morning's Mass, I listened again and I heard about how on the 8th day, John the Baptist was circumcised. I was struck with the thought about how my biological mother held me and rocked me and fed me for the first seven days of my life. And on the eighth day, she was gone, circumcised from my life. And maybe that was what had to happen, so that I could be the woman I am today.

Kind of sucks. But there is a blessing in it. I knew perfect love, and it was suddenly gone...and that has made me who I am.

So, when you are willing to observe your own life, look for the connections. Look for the grace. Name the suffering. Then name the blessing. And say thank you. It is your gift. It is your Camino. And it only belongs to you. You'll need to protect your feet while you walk it, otherwise, you might have to stop or give up.

If the shoe fits, wear it.

Love, Cindy