Good Friday with John of the Cross

The beginning of this day was quite painful for me.  Aptly so, since it is Good Friday.  I have been trying my best to offer my sufferings in union with Christ, and to allow them to draw me into this day with Him.  I know of course that they can't compare to what Our Lord endured for me, but I feel somehow blessed that this day is not serene, and rosy, and chipper.  If I am miserable, I can be miserable for Him.

From Confession to Confession

Today, after three failed attempts recently to do so, my crew and I finally managed to make it to Confession.  Getting all of us out to receive the Sacrament has always been a difficult task, but I realized just how badly needed it was a few months ago, when my husband nabbed a priest after Mass and asked him to hear his confession.  Immediately our older boys started asking me, “do I have to go?” To which I responded, “you don’t have to go, but you can if you want to.”  Let’s just say they weren’t breaking down the doors to receive Christ’s mercy.  They all took a pass, and I worried that maybe I had not done a good job communicating that this sacrament was indeed a gift and a grace, not something to be feared.  I knew the reason was that I had not made it enough of a priority, and so I vowed to get to regular confession more often.

On My Heart

When I was a newly expectant mother for the first time, there was a Hallmark commercial that left an imprint on my heart.  It was of a young boy who had made a card for his busy mother, but she was too busy to look at it.  He had planted a surprise (floating, spring-powered butterflies, if memory serves me correctly) inside it, and though he tried time and again to get her to open it, he kept receiving, "not now honey", "I'll look at it later", or something of the like.  Of course the viewer knew how deeply she loved her boy, but she was caught (as most parents are) in a busy life, and had to balance all of it.  When her little boy was tucked into bed and she finally opened his card, she was sad that he was not present for the surprise he was so persistently trying to give her all day. She vowed to make it up to him, and of course visited a Hallmark store the very next day.  When he came in from school she presented him with his very own card filled with butterflies, and the two shared a reconciling surprised moment between the two of them, as the boy knew that even though she was not able to share this with him the day prior, that she was able to now.  Isn't this the story of every parent at some point or another?

The Living Flame of Love - Chapter 2

I continue my study of St. John of the Cross' book with the second chapter, which focuses on the following stanza:

O sweet burn!

O delicious wound!

O tender hand! O gentle touch!

Savouring of everlasting life, 

And paying the whole debt,

In destroying death thou hadst changed it into life.