Of course, Friday morning there was so much to do (banana bread to bake, dishes to wash, a floor to sweep so my son's dinner wouldn't come off the floor as his lunch had - seriously important things, you see!) and by the time the kids and I were dressed I was ready for a nap. I was not ready to go out in the heat, load up the kids, drive downtown and struggle through a long Mass with 2 kids all by my pregnant self.
BUT, we went, and as we scrambled into a pew I almost started to cry. Why?
The holiness of God, permeating through the Sacred Host and the saint who loved Him so much, surrounded me. The peace I had asked for came and it was all worth it.
It is a beautiful thing to feel close to the men and women who are fully living life in Heaven. It is a beautiful thing to enter into the Body of Christ and feel loved and cared for by God and His saints.
Next time, though, I need to remember that first I must love God. When God invites me to something I need to make sure that I am not wearing myself out beforehand, weakening my ability to love Him and be joyful at His event. This is good to remember for Sundays. Ooooh, Sundays.