Tag: Mass

Sabbath

Back Porch Sabbath

Gentle Reader, slowing down to rest is not easy for me. I like to be busy, to juggle multiple projects and responsibilities. Busyness gives me a sense of purpose and accomplishment, and I’m embarrassed to say, even a sense of meaning. But the meaning of my life, myself, has to be more than my activities, more than my accomplishments, such as they are. Someday, I will no longer be able to do those things. For this reason, I am grateful for the Sabbath.

After the Mass, the back porch is the perfect place to enjoy the Sabbath. There, I can hear birdsong and feel the breeze on my skin. I can ponder the gift of my life, the gift of self-awareness.

My pondering won’t result in any answers. Instead, it will remind me that there is more to life than my daily activities. It will renew my appreciation for Mystery.

Thanksgiving Road

Just above freezing, the air was crisp and clean this morning on the way to Mass. There was some fall color, but most of the leaves on the pecan trees had fallen. Still, it was a scene of serenity and beauty as I pondered the scene in silence.

I was so grateful to have the freedom to go to Mass and worship, and I prayed for all the beautiful young men and women who have died in too many wars to guarantee that freedom. May they rest in the glory of the beatific vision.

Watson Lane

The pecan trees haven’t come into leaf yet. A few stubborn nuts from last year’s crop still cling to the branches. Every spring, the pecan trees are the last to show life. Yet, they have their own stark beauty with the alfalfa and mountains in the background.

I come this way on my way to Mass, and I always enjoy the view as I turn into Watson Lane.

Pandemic Blues

In the market today, I overheard a customer asking the clerk if people were honoring the face mask requirement. “Everyone is so done with face masks, and everyone is in a bad mood,” she replied. (In spite of her comments, everyone was wearing a mask, including the clerk.)

The face mask hadn’t bothered me, but I had been in a bad mood for a few days. Things that didn’t help:

  • Missing Mass
  • Binge watching murder mysteries
  • Staying indoors

Things that helped:

  • Prayer
  • My husband
  • Friends
  • Gardening
  • Exercise
  • Writing
  • Reading
  • Music

Lost and found: Hope

Holy Week at Home

The view from my prayer chair

This quiet Lenten season has been a time of peace and reflection for me. Today, we enter the solemn Triduum in preparation for Easter. I will watch the Mass of the Lord’s Supper tonight as it is streamed live from my parish (without the parishioners). This is one of my favorite Masses of the year. I long to receive Holy Communion, but it won’t be possible for me tonight. Yet, I sense there is grace to be received on this quiet day at home.

There is always grace.

Passion (Palm) Sunday

Palm crosses on a hand-woven tapestry from Guatemala

This morning on television, I watched the Mass celebrated by Pope Francis in Rome. Like many other Catholics, this was the first year in many years that I was unable to attend Mass in person and receive the Holy Eucharist and my palm. I was reminded of several offerings from my husband from previous years.

In the parking lot of our local Albertsons, a man used to sell palms that he had woven into crosses with roses. They were fresh and green, and occasionally my husband brought one home to me. I hung them in my library and kept them. For some time now, they have been dry and dusty, but I still love them.

I wonder about the man who made them and sold them for a few dollars each. I hope he has shelter and something to eat.