..strange path..

Dolorosa

So yesterday I was content to be mad, I didn’t stop, I didn’t chat, I didn’t think about anyone else besides myself. That though is a double edge sword because I pitied myself but on the other hand I lifted myself up a little.

Yesterday morning Dh called me. I was pretty angry I told him to basically quit screwing with me and either be straight or don’t bother calling. It was harsh, I left the conversation first. By that I mean I hung up. There was such a finality to it, that it didn’t feel like the right thing to do.

I went to Mass, but I felt so sad. The kids and I were arguing, prior, I almost got t-boned pulling out of my road, we were nearly late, and I felt very defeated.

As I was sitting there, I was pouring my heart out, I barely heard a word of any of the readings. I thought about leaving, Like taking the kids and going. I really want to leave but I have no money and I am honestly afraid to ask DH. Not that he is going to harm me, but I need him to give me the money and I feel bad to ask. I was thinking about not asking at all and just going but I wonder what the trouble that would cause. I don’t even know.

Then about half way through the homily I heard Him. The direction turned and the Fr. Whom I was trying to look through started talking about something that I needed to hear.

I am a fairly new catholic still and every time that happens I find it strange. Your in a crowded church and the Gospel speaks to you or the lectern reads and he is speaking to you or as in yesterdays case the priest, talks about what is relevant to me. I listened.

He sort of gave me the answer I needed. Direction if you will. Maybe running is not the right choice. maybe I need to be fed. Spiritually. Maybe I have been living on ‘Junk’ and it’s finally caught up with me??

So I had confession a few days ago, that is always the best starting point in getting on track, then I received Jesus into my heart yesterday, and I started reading the Bible to my children before bed. We are starting from the very beginning. I exercised yesterday both boxing and running, and I felt a tiny bit better.

Today I was told about another devotion. I went to Mass, again we listened to more on being fed spiritually fed and getting rid off all the things in our lives that come between us and God. I had a very shoe on the other foot moment there. Maybe I am a thing that prevents a unity with God. I don’t want that. But that’s another topic. After Mass I came back home and my friend called me. We were talking about many things but one of them was the same theme as the homily today. And then she told me about the brown scapular.

I think I’d like to learn more about that. I’m also going to learn more about the Sorrowful & Immaculate Heart of Mary. Or the seven sorrows of Mary. I need simplicity, I am obviously under a tremendous amount of stress.. I can feel it. I think the fact that I woke at 4 45 am this morning with my mind buzzing, is a good indicator that I am still not coping well.

I wrote down everything that was swirling around mostly stuff about the menu for the youth retreat in Nov. and about ideas for kitchen organization and lastly taxes.. always taxes. I prayed the morning hours and then I went back to sleep.   

As of today I am going to prune out the ungodly things. What ever they may be… in the entirety. I want this. Well right this second I don’t I am too tired to want anything but I know it’s what will be good for me.

There are always a million regrets, the latest biggest, is far worse.. I have no excuse this time other than my own idiocy. I was selfish and stupid. It’s simple and like the lyrics say in my current favorite song..

Every Grain Of Sand

In the time of my confession, in the hour of my deepest need
When the pool of tears beneath my feet flood every newborn seed
There’s a dyin’ voice within me reaching out somewhere,
Toiling in the danger and in the morals of despair.

Don’t have the inclination to look back on any mistake,
Like Cain, I now behold this chain of events that I must break.
In the fury of the moment I can see the Master’s hand
In every leaf that trembles, in every grain of sand.

Oh, the flowers of indulgence and the weeds of yesteryear,
Like criminals, they have choked the breath of conscience and good cheer.
The sun beat down upon the steps of time to light the way
To ease the pain of idleness and the memory of decay.

I gaze into the doorway of temptation’s angry flame
And every time I pass that way I always hear my name.
Then onward in my journey I come to understand
That every hair is numbered like every grain of sand.

I have gone from rags to riches in the sorrow of the night
In the violence of a summer’s dream, in the chill of a wintry light,
In the bitter dance of loneliness fading into space,
In the broken mirror of innocence on each forgotten face.

I hear the ancient footsteps like the motion of the sea
Sometimes I turn, there’s someone there, other times it’s only me.
I am hanging in the balance of the reality of man
Like every sparrow falling, like every grain of sand.

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