1. Most important: my brother-in-law is declining rapidly. Initially they told him he might have a year, but it is looking more like a matter of days until the end. Please keep praying.
2. It is shocking to me that someone I was joking around with in January will not see the end of March. It is a bracing reality: when I find myself wringing my hands about -- I don't know, the kids' failure to put their laundry away or my students' failure to prepare for an exam, I have to pull myself up short. Is my husband expected to die in the next few days? Time to shut my mouth and offer up my little (teeny, minuscule, absurdly small) sufferings for their family.
3. Will I ever stop being a hand-wringer? One wonders. I wonder, at any rate. I have been reading Walter Ciszek's beautiful book He Leadeth Me. He talks about learning to surrender totally to the will of God, to be buoyed along by it and thus to be fearless. This happens at the spot in the book where he is finishing up four years of solitary confinement punctuated by frequent interrogations, and preparing for 15 years of hard labor in Siberia. During my Adoration hour on Monday I resolved to adopt this attitude to the best of my ability.
4. That night I lost my legal pad. It was where I'd put my 2013 resolutions, some short-term goals, my big list of all the stuff currently on my plate, and my tasks for the week. I was SO vexed that it disappeared. I was walking in circles around my house, searching for it with rapidly decreasing efficiency, when I remembered my resolve to try on Fr. Ciszek's attitude. "Yes," answered my inner drama queen, "but did he ever lose his LEGAL PAD?"
5. [heavy sigh]
6. This weekend my husband is leading a Cub Scout expedition to the St. Louis City Museum. Have you ever been there? It is the craziest place ever, a bracing antidote to bubble-wrap-ism. You can be standing peaceably by the gift shop, just checking things out, when all of a sudden your kids dive into a tunnel. You can't really fit in the tunnel, and you have no idea where it leads. Also, it's dark in there. My kids adore it. As much as I try to avoid unnecessary bubble wrap, the City Museum stresses me out.
7. I can't stop thinking about my little nieces and their mama, trying to say goodbye. And their dad, jaundiced and weary, though thankfully not in pain. Thanks for praying.
More quick takes at Jen's.