An existential moment at the toilet

We attended Mass in the Extraordinary Form yesterday--something we've been trending towards a little more often. The Latin Mass and all it's prayers are so beautiful and if you take time to read the translations, it's amazing how ethereal the Sacrifice of the Mass really is. It's easy, I find, to lose yourself as the priest to humbly prays the Mass on behalf of the congregation.

The readings for yesterday's Mass (the Extraordinary Form are on a different cycle than those used in the Ordinary Form) hit me, particularly St. Paul's exhortation in Colossians 1:9-14

...that you may walk worthy of God, in all things pleasing, being fruitful in every good work, and increasing in the knowledge of God; strengthened with all might according to the power of His glory, in all patience and long suffering with joy; giving thanks to God the Father, who hath made us worthy to be partakers of the lot of the saints in light...

I was reminded in this reading of how easy it is for me to fall into the habit of feeling sorry for myself instead of reveling in the little moments that surround me day to day...and using those moments of grace as a means of being strengthened in the work to which God is calling me.

My existential moment came last night...after we had put the kids to bed and were settling in with a movie. About an hour into the movie (around 11:30pm) our oldest came bursting through our door, crying his eyes out, his pajama shirt dripping with something wet. He told us he had just thrown up and didn't feel good. I walked him to our bathroom and proceeded to clean him up while DH checked in on our youngest who was still asleep in the bed they share and began stripping sheets. We got everyone settled into new pajamas, new bedding (on the floor of our room) and just abandoned the movie for the night.

But our sick son couldn't seem to get comfortable and was eventually back and forth to the bathroom to continue emptying his stomach 3 more times. Each time, all DH and I could do was smile at each other. No words needed to be spoken. We were so tired and desperately wanted to sleep--and would have loved to finish our movie--but gladly gave it all up for him. We are so grateful to have moments like these...wiping up vile messes and running loads of laundry at 2am. This was real motherhood and fatherhood.

Then at one point, my poor kid was bent over the toilet and--between breaths--begged me, "Mom, don't leave me!" I reassured him that I would stay right with him. Then he begged me to pray with him. (How on earth did I deserve such a kid?!) I said sure and he provided the words, "I just want to die and go to heaven now to be with you now, Jesus!"



[gulp]



Talk about a heart-stopper.

At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to take on all his pain for him. I would have gladly and without a moment's hesitation traded places with him if I could. And then I recalled St. Paul's words from Mass. This is what I've been called to do. This is where God wants me and how He intends to strengthen me for the work I have yet to do.

I'm grateful for every moment of this life of mine...even the uncomfortable moments and those where I don't have the benefit of seeing the bigger picture--which is most of the time. I imagine my Father above looking down on me in my own tears and misery and wanting to take away all my pain too. But He utilizes both the joyful moments and the sorrowful ones in my life as a means of finding Him and drawing closer.