Who Am I?

This past Saturday, my husband & I were sitting on the couch just having a general day. I can’t remember what started the conversation, except that I KNOW it was him (fist pump & bump from me to the Holy Spirit). He asked about when the Church started. Since I tend to blather on & on (& on & on & on…), I concentrated on brevity. I said, “Oh, somewhere in the New Testament before Easter, Jesus told Simon Peter that ‘… on this rock I shall build my Church…’” I further added that He (Jesus) also told Simon Peter that He (Jesus) would give Simon Peter the keys to Heaven and the Church. My husband’s reply was a simple “Oh” or grunt of acknowledgement. Regardless of his response, I was tremendously pleased that he broached the subject.

Imagine my absolute SHOCK when, at Mass Sunday, the Gospel was that *very* reading. Jesus asks the disciples, “Who do the people say that I am?” followed by “Who do *you* say that I am?” Simon Peter was the only one brave enough (or lacking the edit function of his brain like me) to say, “You’re the Christ”. Then followed my above mentioned quote from that same chapter. As the reading began I looked over and was dismayed to see that our children looked to be thoroughly distracting my baptized (but not confirmed) husband. I said a silent prayer to the Holy Spirit to allow him (my husband) to hear the words of the reading AND the homily. Then I tried to divide my attention between the children, Mass, & my husband’s demeanor; therefore I completely forgot about the revelation during Mass. Later at home, amid the chaos that is life with a 3 year old & 21 month old, my husband said something about it being funny that the reading at Mass was exactly what we’d talked about. Again, I internally fist pumped & bumped the Holy Spirit, but kept my answer non-chalant & brief.



That got me to thinking. Who am I that God should listen to my all-too brief prayers? Who am I that others should look at me & find encouragement, inspiration, and happiness? Who am I that God has blessed me with the family (and friends) I have? Who am I that God has given the struggles to overcome and therefore become an inspiration to others around me. The answer is, basically, I am who God made me.



It is often bandied about that God works in mysterious ways and that if you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans. Well, I am the personification of the latter of these as well as the former (but mostly the latter). Too often I get caught up in the little things and forget or dismiss my prayer-life, the sacraments, or the blessings that I have been given. To be honest, sometimes the struggles God has given me are actually the biggest blessings I have. Obviously, I don’t see that at the time, but upon reflection later (sometimes MUCH MUCH MUCH later) my struggles have been times when I have developed certain traits that make me a better person. This better person God is molding is who He wants me to be. The comfortable, vague-minded, obsessive, defiant, anxious person is the anthema of God’s plan for me. It is up to me, and EVERYONE, to become the person God means us to be through His means, not our own.



**This post of mine has been cross-posted from a Catholic blog group I contribute to: Catholic Sistas. If you like random musings of Catholic moms, you'll like this blog. Follow us & if you want, contribute! :-)

Golfers needed!!!!

Right to Life of Owensboro’s


Annual Golf Scramble

WHEN: Saturday, July 23, 2011

             Registration – 7:00 am

             Shotgun Start – 7:30 am

WHERE: BEN HAWES PARK

WHO: Teams of four $200
           Individual players $50


For more information or to register, please call Right to Life of Owensboro at (270) 685-4922.


YOUR ATTENDENCE WILL BE WARMLY APPRECIATED.

Horse whispering

I got a chance to whisper to a couple horses yesterday. They whispered directly to my soul.

A down-the-road neighbor (about a mile down my road) owns a total of 6 equines: 4 small ponies, a large work-horse, & a regular-sized horse. They're all variations of the same golden-red body with white manes & tails (flaxen chestnut). The man is elderly, but says he can't get rid of them because they're part of the family and in his blood. He was getting ready to mow their pasture when the largest one, named King, bolted out the open gate. His pal, Golden, the regular-sized one, bolted right after him. Golden is an aged horse, but that didn't stop him from leading his owner on a merry chase in the 95+ degree heat.

I was on my way home from work when Andrew called me. He had been driving home when he saw Golden loose at the bottom of his owner's driveway. Andrew, knowing how horses escape, drove up the driveway to tell the owner his horses were loose. In the process King bolted again. Then Andrew turned around, made his way home, and called me. I was, luckily, about 5 minutes behind him. I drove by slowly, but didn't see anything. Instead of going home, I decided to turn around to see if I could find them.

I was desperate for a good dose of horse-aroma-therapy! On my return trip I saw King galloping through a field and onto the road in front of me. I pulled off to the side of the road and got out. I slowly began walking and talking to the big horse. His gallop slowed to a strong trot and then finally to a walk. He looked at me curiously then turned and called to his friend, Golden, who was lagging behind significantly. Since King was large and was acting skittish, I chose to continue talking to him without trying to catch him. As I looked over my shoulder I saw the owner approaching on a 4-wheeler with a bucket of grain.

After a few moments, Golden approached me. He let me pet him and finally I wrapped one of my arms around his neck with my other hand on the bridge of his nose. If he'd presented much of a fight, I wouldn't have had a chance, but I was banking on good training and the heat taking most of the fight out of him. He & I walked up the road toward his owner with King slowly following behind us. The owner was shocked that Golden would let me lead him by nothing but my hands. He said his horses didn't usually take to new people like that. He had a lead rope, so I fashioned a make-shift halter for Golden and began the long, hot, and sweaty trek back to their home. King followed more or less docilely, but he gave ocassional bursts of speed that made me glad I'd chosen the smaller and older of the two to wrangle.

After depositing the two horses in their field, I spoke to their owner. I gave him my name & information so that if he ever needed/wanted help with his horses he could call me. He expressed an interest in having me help him with one of the ponies. The pony is partially trained to pull a cart/buggy. The man remembers from my college cart-training experience further up the road. To be honest, I practically begged him for an opportunity to work with his horses again. Hopefully he'll take me up on it. That way I can have some much needed equine therapy for body, mind, and spirit!