What do you blog about when the day has been a blur? What color and shape does that even take?
Actually, colors and shapes have been a daily delight since I downloaded the app “Colorify.” I have become as addicted to it as I was to adult coloring books and Prismacolor pencils last year.
For the first time in his life, my son actually got a coloring book page from me at Christmas last year. I remember fondly the things he used to color for my delight, and I still have the picture he did of me when he was five. It said, “My Mommy is beautiful.” He got the hair color wrong – hope he wasn’t talking about a different Mommy. Still, I treasure it and the collage of his hand prints he also made that year. When I look at his rangy 6’2” frame now, it is hard to believe his hands were ever that small.
Small hands have been on my mind a lot today. No, not Donald Trump’s, but – well – enough said.
No, I have been thinking about children a lot today. About the infant grandson of a prayer group friend in hospital now because he has the same congenital heart defect that Jimmy Kimmel’s son was born with. I prayed the St. Michael prayer chaplet for him as soon as I heard the news. I don’t know if it was the right one to choose or not, but if this child is in a battle for his life, I want an Archangel warrior and his battalions fighting on his side.
I also spent some time this morning brooding over the lives of the children lost in Texas on Sunday. Such a senseless act of violence. Whom did it serve? What does so much hate and pain bring to this world, and how much beauty and potential does it destroy? I have no answers – just the question.
My bible study led me to wonder if Jesus also asked the same from the Cross. I am just now grasping how much greater than His physical Passion was the pain of His soul and the heartache He felt bearing all the burden of our sin upon Him, including that of this past Sunday. There seems to be no end to the sin. Does that mean there is no end to His suffering until our final end?
The book we are studying right now is about “Consoling the Heart of Jesus.” He longs for us to do so by turning to Him and answering what St. Teresa of Calcutta said was His cry of “I Thirst.” He longs for souls who seek His Divine Mercy, but not enough do. He has graces He yearns to pass out, but not enough takers. So, paradoxically, He is both happy in Heaven but still aching with pain for more people to reach out to Him and accept His infinite ocean of love.
My prayer for the people of that Church in Texas this Sunday was that in those final moments, through the sheer panic and fear they must have felt, they were reaching out to Him, and He was holding their hands, ready to take them home to live with Him in glory.
I pray they reached out to Him for His healing mercy and grace, and that He happily gave it in abundance and that, in that moment, neither He nor they thirsted at all.