Sunday, August 26, 2012


Looking at the wedding photos on Facebook of someone who was once a good friend, who was prominently featured at my own wedding, but whose nuptials I was not invited to.

Singing at funerals for which we don't get to choose the music, even though the family has no special requests.  I know that I could have given them much better music--music that will actually be a prayer for the deceased as well as comfort to the living--but I wasn't allowed to.  Fortunately, for the second funeral of the week my husband chose the music.  It was far more prayerful and dignified.

Being offered a set of medals blessed by Pope John Paul II by a well-meaning fellow parishioner, who believes that the medals will bring safe delivery for pregnant mothers.
"Didn't someone tell me that you're pregnant?" she asks.  "I'm not," I reply.
Her face falls and she looks confused.
I rush to add, "But I hope to be!"
She seems a little reluctant to let me keep the medals, but I'm not willing to let them go.
Maybe they will help.

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