Feeling Young at 44

After 30, birthdays generally are just a reminder that we are getting old, and hopefully more mature. It is also a good reminder to check for those wacky hairs that start suddenly appearing out of your nose and/or ears . . .which wouldn't be so bad if I could at least grow a beard or a decent gotee (as appose to an indecent gotee).

Today, as I drove up to Mass (that I have dubbed the "moth ball mass", because of the amount of my elders who attend, and the aroma that is often associated with them), I saw one of the regular attendees slowly making his way to the church. This wonderfully frail man makes his oh so slow trek to the parish every morning, and although he lives only a few blocks away, at his pace, it most likely is a half hour, or more, journey each way.

I said a silent prayer that I would be like that when I was his age, and pondered why more of us don't make the effort to receive the Lord everyday. Time for yoga class, time for the newspaper or reading wannabe monkish blogs, time even for prayer . . .but not time to make the sacrifice of daily showing the one who took nails in His hands, that we are His alone.

I am so thankful that the Lord allowed me to be so broken last year that I could only see Him, and even more thankful that once the healing began, I still only saw, and desired, Him.

Thank You my King for another year of precious life!
with great love,
your son,
mike
.