Little feet have brought me closer to God in many ways, chasing them around gives me patience and reminds me of the joy to be found even on the most stressful of days. There are a couple ways though, that snuck up on me, and I thought I would share those with you. I realize that Holy Week is long past now, but I hope they will lift you up anyway.
Holy Week always finds me stressed and overwhelmed. While I would like to participate in the many wonders and liturgies, having several very small children (and a husband in the choir) makes it nearly impossible to do without teaching my children by accident that Holy Week is more about getting yelled at than about appreciating the sacrifice of Jesus. So we choose carefully which liturgies to attend.
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Good Friday of 2010 found me at my wits end, as usual. We had attended the live Stations of the Cross with the kids, and had intended to take them to the Good Friday liturgy as well. But I felt like the small children needed a break and so did I. It would have been a disaster in the making to try another long event in the same day. So we stayed home. At least our parish had their liturgy on television, so I was able to watch, holding my peacefully sleeping baby on the couch, while the other little ones played legos in the other room.
As the parishioners filed up, one by one, to venerate the cross and kiss the feet of Jesus, I looked down at the chubby little feet, so relaxed in my lap. And I realized... Mary must have kissed the feet of Jesus countless times. She nibbled on his cute little toes as she cared for him. And then she saw those feet lifted up before her on the cross. She knew, she saw the physical effects of His sacrifice. The body she had held so close was hurting. I am sure that no one understands the veneration of the Cross like she does.
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This year we were able to make it to Holy Thursday Mass. I even came prepared with battery operated candles for the little ones to carry during the procession afterward. (Although I also discovered just how far those battery operated candles can roll when dropped/thrown. Next year I need to find square battery operated candles.) I have to confess that I am a horrible listener in Mass, and only partly because of my kids. I am just a distracted kind of person, so I always catch snippets here and there. The part of the gospel that echoed out to me sitting in this particular wiggly, whiny pew was:
If I, therefore, the master and teacher, have washed your feet, you ought to wash one another's feet.I have given you a model to follow, so that as I have done for you, you should also do. (Jn 13:14-15)
And I tell you, I sat bolt upright and realized... I do this!
On a week when I had been feeling like there was no time for prayer and my going to mass was overwhelming, I was so relieved to realize that every day I do something that Jesus specifically asked us to do. There is not a day that goes by when I don't find myself down on my knees washing little feet at some point in the day. (And I had to stop writing this post twice to wipe a little behind as well, that has to count for something.)
Jesus asked us to serve one another, and to meet each other at our grossest and help to clean each other up. That sums up my job pretty well, I think. Maybe I am learning something out of these trips around Jericho.
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