Today was going to be categorized as one of the bad days.
Until two hours ago.
Then, in the way God has of getting my attention when I stubbornly plant my feet and refuse to listen, I got a wake-up call. It was the beep-beep-beep kind of wake-up call, not the soothing music or gentle nudging. The ole baseball bat was out, and God was whacking me upside the head. It’s what I needed.
The day started with me not going to Mass. Well, actually the day started with me GOING to Adoration, dragging myself out of bed, realizing I forgot to do coffee, feeling the start of a good headache. But I went, and as usual, I was glad to be there. Fridays are usually our “date day,” me and God: Adoration in the early morning, and then Mass at 8. But Grandma Glory wanted Toddler-tron early for a Field Trip Day, and I chatted too long, and rather than go in late (which, I might add, no one would have minded), I thought of how much work I needed to get done, and I went there instead.
Strike one. This would have been the soothing music wake-up call. “Go to Mass, Sarah. What’s a half-hour?”
In the office, it was non-stop. This to do, that to do, here and there I had to be. From the frantic pace, you would never know that we have a laid back ministry mindset. Oh, that’s because today, I didn’t so much. I was so busy, and got so caught up in things, that I didn’t have lunch with my husband. He had a late night at work scheduled, with customer appreciation hoorah stuff, and lunch was our time together.
Strike two. This would have been the annoying, but not really so bad, top 40 music blaring at me. “Make time for your husband, Sarah. What’s wrong with a few minutes late for your teletraining class?”
Then, after losing my keys and having two volunteers, a contractor, and Padre searching for about 15 minutes, I finally was able to head home. (This might qualify as a strike, but it makes the impact of my story a little less impressive. I’m too tired to figure out how to rework it, so I’m even leaving the tacky parenthetical comment in. Hope you’ll indulge me on that!) After hearing about TT”s day with Grandma, we got home, did the “no you’re NOT playing in the car” routine, and started carrying things in. As I was putting this or that away, I realized TT was not in the house with me. So I looked out back. Hmm, that’s strange. She’s usually out there with the cat and the dog and the toys.
I walked out of the side door, and saw flashing lights. There, at the end of my driveway, with the busy state highway traffic going all around, was a sheriff’s car, and my pink-clad toddler, talking to an officer, the dog looking anxiously on.
Strike three. Enter baseball bat. “Sarah, you need to LET GO AND LET GOD! How many times do I have to tell you?”
What kept her out of the road? Better yet, what kept me at work so that when we got home, she would go out to the road at the time when a kindly (though befuddled and no doubt disgusted) officer was driving by?
And just what made me think I could keep her safe in the first place? What made me think I had a hand in much more than doing what God wants me to do? What made me think it couldn’t happen to me? It almost did.
She’s yours, God. Thanks for keeping her safe, Angel dearest and Mother Mary. I have no doubt that the Hail Mary we’re teaching her at night is going to have special meaning to me for quite a few nights to come.
Count your blessings now. Then get on your knees and tell Him all about it. Maybe your bad day isn’t so bad after all.