A Mary Moment Monday post
It’s been a wee bit crazy for the last six weeks or so. I’ve found myself using “Sorry, I’m busy” in contexts that have me shaking my head at myself.
Someone I love and admire recently pointed out to me that I will always be busy.
This last stretch, though, has been a sprint of sorts. (Preparing me for something else? Let’s not think about that.) I’ve been juggling more than my usual amount of time commitments, and I can feel it.
It has made my morning time with Mary even more important. I’ve been gripping my rosary like a life line.
On the mornings I wake up and can’t think about how much work there is, I have been unyielding about that 20ish minutes (even when I overslept, or needed a nap, or any number of other things).
In the last week, I’ve had a reprieve. It feels pretty ironic, given that Advent is coming pretty soon…well, let’s not talk about that.
There’s still work to do, mind you. My list still looks a wee bit scary, even to me. There is, in fact, a category called, “A girl can dream” with things on it that really shouldn’t be optional.
Mary is there beside me in the chaos, whether I acknowledge her or not. What’s been different in this most recent sprint is my willingness to look for her (and for her son, too). I haven’t given in to the temptation to be “too busy” for prayer.
Mary knows what chaos is like, whether it’s this special kind of busy or a season of life (new baby or teen schedules). She had her fair share, and I’m sure that period of time between the Resurrection and Ascension was at least as busy for her as she kept track of her son’s final time on earth.
That said, I am looking forward to reading again. For fun. For reviews.
Maybe, in fact, I’ll actually look forward to this season ahead, the one I battle hating. Because, I’m telling you, I will NOT be busier than I have been in the last six weeks.
All this is not to say, mind you, that it hasn’t been grand. The work I’ve had to do–and it’s ranged from writing to research to interviews to other things–has been fun and I’ve learned and grown.
Maybe the most important thing I’ve learned is that Mary’s hand will hold me up. I might still stub my toes and have bags under my eyes. I may have to take a nap on the weekend and say No to a few things I enjoy doing. She’s there, though. Through it all, Mary’s there.