Unobtrusively

When I think back to those times when my children were so young, I am quite overcome by how as I held on to my children so unobtrusively in the Church and when I felt the most frazzled, God Himself, held on to me…

Infant Jesus with a Lamb (Veneranda Biblioteca)

There have been so many times in my life when I needed to do something quietly.

Sometimes, I would do things in a way that made me stand out in the front of the crowd.  And, at other times I would do things in a way that caused me to sink to the back.  Whether I was standing at the front of sinking at the back, I have felt called to make a difference or have a contribution in the world.  This is not to say that I believe that my name will be remembered after I die.  I shall be forgotten like all the other nameless souls who are not remembered after their deaths.  There is nothing terribly special about my life and I am no great saint.  Instead, I am simply a wife and a mother and a daughter and a sister and friend.  And I am not even terribly good at any one of those things.  And yet, I still feel a calling to make some sort of contribution.

Being no great Saint, my contribution may at times be unobtrusive.  Perhaps I am not called to be the main character – so to speak – and instead I am called to act unobtrusively.

And what does that look like in my life?  Well, that looks like the daughter that is calm when her parents are ill.  It looks like the sister is able to depend on herself.  It looks like the mother who continues to love despite all the challenges that teenage children can sling in her direction.

And I do all of these things unobtrusively and imperfectly too.

For a long long time I worried that I was doing the job so badly that perhaps God would not want me to do the job at all.  I remember taking my children to Holy Mass when they were very young and struggling through the entire Mass to keep them quiet and orderly.  I remember thinking to myself, why do I even bother?  I am sure my thoughts are more sinful now with the children here int eh Church, then if I were home alone with them and missing Mass altogether.

And my mother said to me, as only a mother can who has the experience and wisdom of years…  It is better to take them then to leave them.  It is worth persevering with the Mass.

She told me that it was worth remaining inside that Church during the Holy Mass and struggling through for a few years because this was the way to teach my children how to pray – unobtrusively.  And this meant that there were some weeks where the children would not sit still at all, and other weeks where the children would cry and fret during the Sacrament.  Sometimes, I needed to leave early because someone got sick or irritable.  But always I would try – imperfectly.

And I see those other mothers and fathers doing the same thing in the Church now.  But I see this with different eyes.  Because while they sit holding onto their children imperfectly and unobtrusively, I can see God holding on to them – with LOVE…

And when I think back to those times when my children were so young, I am quite overcome by how as I held on to my children so unobtrusively in the Church and when I felt the most frazzled, God Himself, held on to me…

For with prayer, I stand on Holy Ground where everything is clear. Here. At the Foot of the Cross.