It was really hard to get out of bed this morning. First of all, it's Friday, which means that all of the sleep interruptions/deprivation of the week are compounded. Fridays are always the hardest days of the week for me to get up. Add to that this morning that it was cold in our house. A front went through a few days ago, and we are finally having October weather. But I haven't cleaned out the filter yet, and didn't turn the heat on last night... and it was really, really cold this morning.
But I got out of bed anyway. By the time I am conscious enough to consider not going, I am awake enough to realize that not going to mass is not the answer. I piled into three layers of clothes (I did mention that it was cold, right?), and headed out to the van. Two minutes down the road (nowhere near enough time for the heat to kick on), and I duck into the Parish Center, rubbing my arms to try to shake the chill.
Quick smiles and hellos from Father and Deacon, who are putting on their vestments. Two minutes of quiet prayer and greeting for the Lord. Then "Be Not Afraid" sung (slightly off-key by me), dispelling the cold and darkness with warmth and light. Communal prayer. The Word of God. Homily on integrity (again... definitely Father's "go to" theme for daily mass homilies, but also something I need to hear, again and again and again). The liturgy of the Eucharist. The amazing miracle of the consecration. Holding hands and praying as a community (I always want to rub the chill off my elderly neighbor's hands, which are like ice every single morning). Praising God. Receiving the Eucharist. Quiet prayer. Then "Jesus, Remember Me" as we take our leave and head back out into the morning chill, and all that awaits our day.
And when I walk back into my house five minutes later, it is with a much lighter heart, and a warmth that goes much deeper than man-made heat can go.
But I got out of bed anyway. By the time I am conscious enough to consider not going, I am awake enough to realize that not going to mass is not the answer. I piled into three layers of clothes (I did mention that it was cold, right?), and headed out to the van. Two minutes down the road (nowhere near enough time for the heat to kick on), and I duck into the Parish Center, rubbing my arms to try to shake the chill.
Quick smiles and hellos from Father and Deacon, who are putting on their vestments. Two minutes of quiet prayer and greeting for the Lord. Then "Be Not Afraid" sung (slightly off-key by me), dispelling the cold and darkness with warmth and light. Communal prayer. The Word of God. Homily on integrity (again... definitely Father's "go to" theme for daily mass homilies, but also something I need to hear, again and again and again). The liturgy of the Eucharist. The amazing miracle of the consecration. Holding hands and praying as a community (I always want to rub the chill off my elderly neighbor's hands, which are like ice every single morning). Praising God. Receiving the Eucharist. Quiet prayer. Then "Jesus, Remember Me" as we take our leave and head back out into the morning chill, and all that awaits our day.
And when I walk back into my house five minutes later, it is with a much lighter heart, and a warmth that goes much deeper than man-made heat can go.
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