Take Nothing for Granted

Last night, my brother came over, which was great. I don’t get to see him all that often. He stayed until about 12:15 am, when I finally had to go to bed, so that I’d be able to get up this morning. About 3 am or so, my roommate woke up and was violently ill. Poor girl — I hate being sick like that. I got up and gave her some baking soda water to try and calm her stomach, then tried to lay back down for a little while.

Of course, then I overslept. I ran around and figured that I’d at least attempt to make the very end of Mass, even though I don’t like walking in late. I pulled into the parking lot about 6:50. Mass always goes at least until 6:58. People were already leaving. How strange. As I walk in, a friend was walking out, so I asked her if Mass got out early today. She said that no priest ever showed up.

“Are they okay??” I ask, worried now. This is not typical.

She shrugs, “They probably just slept in.”

True, that’s most likely what happened, but what if something happened and someone’s really hurt or ill or had to go to the hospital??

So, I went into the chapel and prayed, prayed, prayed.

Then, I thought about what the other people might think, who also go to the 6:30 am Mass. I was concerned that they might be upset with the priests, and I prayed for their understanding and forgiveness, too.

I prayed for all the people who don’t get to go to Mass every day; for the priest shortage; for the upcoming Year of the Priest.

I prayed for Fr. John. I prayed that he was okay and that nothing bad happened that he had to take care of. I prayed that whoever had not made it to Mass, that they were okay and that they wouldn’t get too upset at themselves for missing (if it was a sleeping-in kind of thing). I prayed that Fr. John wouldn’t get too mad at whoever missed Mass. I prayed that (if it were a sleeping-in kind of thing) our priests weren’t working themselves too hard. I prayed that if they needed the extra sleep that God would heal them in mind and body and refresh them. I prayed that they would have stamina and endurance and be able to fulfill all the tasks which God calls them to. I prayed to the Blessed Mother to take care of her sons, to protect them and to care for them.

I prayed and I worried. I said things like, “God, I trust You that everything will be okay, but please, please keep him safe!”

I went to Starbucks to get my morning coffee, and on the way back decided to stop by the church again — to see if anyone had showed up for the 8 am Mass. On the way back, I was praying for him to be okay, and alternately thanking God that he *was* okay. Which was a little bizarre. I got to the church, and Fr. John’s car was there, so I was a little relieved. I gathered up the toys I had to give him and went inside and waited for a little while, but didn’t see him. I snuck down to the church proper, and saw him sitting on the far side, praying. I didn’t want to bother him, and it was getting late, so I left to go to work.

I’m glad he made it in. That something’s not grossly wrong, but I still pray that he is okay and not sick or overly tired or facing any big problems. May the Blessed Mother continue to care for him.

I was running **really** late for work now. So much that I knew that if I parked in the commuter lot and waited for the bus, I would be definitely late. So, I had to park in the structure. That’ll be $10 for the day. Ouch. But I’m glad that I at least know that he made it to church. I hope that if it was Fr. Lee who was to say Mass this morning, that he also is okay.

Worry. Pray. Worry. Pray. Whew! Caring for priests is a hard job! 🙂

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