Guess what I did last night?? PICKED OUT EVERY NOODLE IN A BOX OF MAC-AND-CHEESE OUT OF A BIN OF LAUNDRY. My dad helped me, though. My mother DID NOT. She just stood there and narrated that the pillowcase was a lost cause. Which it was. BUT STILL.
My mother and I attended this thingity thing about church-y things yesterday, too. You probably don’t need details BUT, I liked this one thing they said:
It’s about trusting God. After all, He’s the one who called you to this, right? We were born to do this. And we GET to do this.
I love the “we GET to do this.” It’s not a, “Man, God’s calling me to miserrrrrrrrryy!” Because, frankly, God actually is the one calling us to full-full life. Attitude shift!
We GET to do this!
One thing that interests me about photos is that, on some level, the person being photographed is captured as they respond to the photographer. For that reason, I love images where, say, a the photographer is a mother and the child is being photographed or, alternatively, where the child captures the mother’s response.
So, in this one, my coworker is the photographer. And I’m in a “professional” setting. How adult! Such adult! Much work! Oh wow!
SO I’M TOYING WITH THE IDEA OF GOING TO QUEBEC AND TODAY I READ ONLINE THAT YOU CAN SEE WHALES FROM QUEBEC.
WHALES, YOU GUYS.
I’VE NEVER SEEN WHALES IN MY ENTIRE LIFE AND I’M A MILLION YEARS OLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLD!!!
Other thing of exceeding importance: holy doors, duh. I’m all about that life.
So. Anyone speak French? Must love: adventure/ singing/ being awesome/ sleeping in hostels because I ain’t about to pay no lotsa dollars I ain’t got/ possibly seeing whales/ AND JESUS. It’s a pilgrimage.
Unrelated to Quebec: anyone know where I can rent a canoe for a couple days in Southwest Michigan? 😀
Adventure is calling my name and stuff.
On Wednesday I went to a different thingity-thing and the young, tall-priest was there. He knows my face, but he doesn’t actually know me super well. But he was like, “Hey, how’s it going?”
Sometimes I just let it go, let it go when people ask that question.
And I handed him the things I’ve been feeling and thinking and mulling over in prayer.
And he was like, “Let’s pray,” which I agreed was a good idea. So, we closed our eyes and bowed our heads and he prayed…a singular Hail Mary.
And I loved that moment.
Because the Hail Mary is one of the first, short prayers we learn as Catholic-kiddos, so I didn’t expect him to go there. I expected different prayers, I guess, ones with adult-words and seminary-polished phrases. But, instead we went the simple, short route.
And I thought about whether or not we believe the things we say about God-remembering-the-sparrows and the child-like-faith.
I do believe.
Three cheers for little-kid prayers.
Everyone in the entire internet (coughJUST KIDDINGcough)knows that I have a massive internet-crush on John Blase’s hauntingly awesome poetry but SERIOUSLY YOU GUYS this one.
HOW DOES HE EVEN??
“…a shore he’s never seen before but known the music of since he was born.”
John Blase, you have the magic of words deep in your soul and I’m perpetually picking my jaw off of the floor.
Yesterday I was out for the tiniest run after picking off noodles and introducing the guinea pigs (neck-tensed the entire time, right??). I played for a bit on the chin-up bar at a local park because, seriously, circus, you know I love you but I’m beyond awkward mounting the trapeze. So, I was jogging back home and I saw a firefly. The first one this summer. So, I caught it, gently closed my fist to cradle it and made a wish.
Then I opened my fist to let it go but…it wouldn’t leave. It walked up and down the outside of my fingers, like when you’re little and someone is tracing your hand on a sheet of paper.
I left it there, exploring, for a while. But then I didn’t really want it on my hand anymore, so I tried to blow it off…but that didn’t work, either. Then I saw another firefly light up, so I brought it close, and the one in my hand lit up, too, and flew off.
Sometimes you just need a friend, I guess.
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