Stations tonight

Every now and then, I realize that spending time alone in my house is not enough. I do crave alone time, certainly, but alone in my house watching movies and such is so unfulfilling. Furthermore, it tends to breed a desire for more alone-ness and thus I become grumpy if other people intrude on my solitude. And then...I went to Mass tonight.

So simple...so invigorating...Confession before and Stations of the Cross afterward. So beautiful. There was rather a ferocious thunderstorm going on outside with those huge raindrops that cover an entire car in one drip. The lights went out right before the gospel. Mass in the dark. Fantastic.

The Stations of the Cross are one of my truly favorite devotions. The thoughts and ideas contained therein go with my earlier thoughts in a previous post that I don't feel anything. It is hard to feel sorrow for my sins, hard to feel the necessity of going to Mass, hard to feel that I ought to go out for a walk. But perhaps this is numbness is a wake up call for a deeper conversion. The prayers of the Stations are constantly asking for forgiveness and meditation on the sorrows and pains of Our Lord. One sentiment in particular struck me tonight: that the cross in and of itself did not hurt him, for he was a strong man and a carpenter and could easily have carried that wood. The pain and the heaviness came from the weight of our sins, the true burden of calvary. Every sinful act infinitely offensive. I struggle under the weight of my own sins and a couple of the sins around me. I venture to think that I do not even know all of my sins.

Greater love hath no man....

Contrast

A little girl came into the emergency room today. As I work with kids that is not at all unusual. She wasn't sick; there was no need for medications or IVs or radiological studies. She needed a prescription and went right home. That is not unusual either. What was unusual was her attitude. I walked into the room to introduce herself and her glowing brown face grew brighter with excitement and she began to talk in a babbling toddler voice. Obviously she was excited to meet new people. Such a sweet kid...so I put on Dora the explorer for her and she just about hit the roof, jumping on the bed and screaming "Momma! Momma! look! Dora!!!!" I laughed. What a joyful kid.

On her way out the door her mother took a sticker from the dispenser, only one, and gave it to the girl and once again we saw the same glowing reaction "Oh WOW MOM!!!!" A great big smile and a "Nank Noo!" and she was out the door.

After she left, I wondered "was I ever that excited about life? I cant remember." Childhood...so beautiful. Shouldn't I feel more? I don't care what I eat, a sticker does not brighten my day, and I don't jump for joy when show I like comes on. Almost wish I could turn back that clock...but even if I did, would I get that innocence and joy back? probably not. Still, there must be a way to feel something besides inertia and numbness.