Driving past the church after a Sunday service, my boyfriend kept pointing to me the entire church properties consisting of the rectory connected to the main church by a walkway, the auditorium where mass is held for larger groups and the grade school building where his nephew went but remained unused for years now, while way back behind the church is a cemetery located on a rolling hills where we once hike ending up the other end of the street, after the walk my pedometer registered 14000 steps.
Being the chattier between the two of us (he once told me never make him the subject of my post, but he’s not going to read this, anyway) and because this is his territory he tends to show me around like a tour guide when we drive around while I’m contented getting toured. As we turned around the corner he changed his tour guide voice to curiousity and speculation on a priests’ activity aside from saying the mass which obviously to him is mostly a Sunday job. Watching someone plowing the snow or cutting the grass around the church once, he knew the priest don’t do those job unlike him who worries about leaking pipes, flooding basement or grass growing. I told him the priest prays, he shook his head, “Did he pray for the grass to be cut or the snow plowed?” , his response both naive and ironic.
Identifying with someone who don’t labor is inconceivable for us members of the rat race club, forty fifty or sixty hour workweek worker, we, who count our days by the amount of money we make at the end of the week.
Having been unemployed for months, I turned to God once more even when I never stayed away. I closed my eyes and see what he’s showing me. I shut my mouth and opened my ears wide and listen to what God is trying to tell me. I made myself as obscure as possible and let God be. I trust in the Lord and remembered these words:
Joshua 24:13 … And I have given you a land for which you did not labour, and cities which you did not built, and ye dwell in them; of the vineyards and oliveyards which ye planted not do you eat…
Deut 6:11 … And houses full of good things, which thou filledst not, and wells digged, Which thou digged not…
Expecting a one day miracle wasn’t my purpose. Instead I taught myself how to read his message, by giving my full trust. And realizing in the process everything has a reason, I have a mission to fulfill in my own tiny way, even when I don’t understand, even when it’s illogical, even when it’s unfair or unjust. That I am not the author of my life when I let God be.
Today is the Memorial of the Queenship of Blessed Virgin Mary. Let us rejoice in the Lord.
Helplessness – that dull, sick feeling of not being the one at the reins. When did you last feel like that – and what did you do? In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Helpless.”