History does repeat itself. Quite frequently, in fact. Take for example Christ the King last year. We were sick. That's how we began the new liturgical year and this year seems no different. Even similar viruses. Last year we braved the weather (-32 C) and drove to Edmonton for the Feast of Christ the King. We did this despite the ominous signs that something viral was headed our way. Justin had been soooo sick just 3 days before. I optimistically figured that no one was going to get it if we hadn't been sick yet. How wrong I was. Patrick was ignominiously sick in the bathroom of the very nice hotel where dinner was hosted. And then again on the way home. And the next day. Then it was Xander, then Rebecca, then Matthew (all 2 months of him - that was very scary), then me and then my Mom, who had so bravely nursed the last of us. This took us to two weeks before Christmas.
So this year, I had planned on attending the Feast, giving a real good week to school and then the remainder of Advent spent readying our home and hearts for the arrival of Baby Jesus. And here we are again, sick. God, I don't know what You're trying to tell me, but I wish I'd get the message sooner than later.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment