Sunday was fun with a trail run and CCD with the 7th graders, where I taught them P's PreK lenten song to the tune of Frere Jauqes:
"Prayer and fasting and almsgiving
We are meant, to repent
Forty days of sacrifice
Being extra super nice
This is Lent
This is Lent"
This was our effort to get the kids to recall the three lenten practices of prayer, fasting and alms-giving. It's nice to know the tuition to Catholic education pays off and that my 3 year old knows what 7th graders struggle to learn.
Monday's draw was terrible. I felt "off" anyway, but just a tad. As I was waiting for my turn I watched as a phlebotomist dug around for an elderly woman's vein. I'm not usually squeamish, and the elderly woman didn't seem too concerned about what was happening, but I began to get dizzy watching. When the other phlebotomist started my draw I got instantly woozy. She informed me I didn't look so well, and I informed her that, coincidentally, I did not feel very well. I began to hear a high-pitched squeal in my ears and see flashes of light. And then I heaved. So, that happened.
In finding out that my thyroid is malfunctioning, I really didn't know what to do with that information. Quite frankly I felt like God was being a jerk to me. I knew logically that this was stupid and the intensity of my overbooked life combined with my faith was no ward against further suffering, but I really felt entitled to a damn break.
This is the frustrating thing about being Catholic. The combined belief that God always has my interests at heart, and the pragmatic view that life is messy, throws me for a loop when I find I feel like God owes me a pass on tough situations. I didn't expect, and don't expect, God will protect me from drama, but I found myself making these arguments to Him in frustration. "Why can't you just give me a pass? Do you not realize that I am confined by hours in a day? What is your problem?"
Am I alone in my God rants?
So far, I'm going with "a good thing". It's kind of how watching Pope Francis perform all those "normal" tasks and works of mercy is like holding a mirror up to my own pathetic attempt to call myself a Christian. All these trials we're facing just expose the places we need to fortify in ourselves. Trusting that God will protect us while we do the work is really scary, but what choice do we have? There is no good alternative.