St. Valentine's Day

It's 4:30 in the afternoon, and the the florist has yet to bring me flowers from a secret admirer.  Sigh.

I did send a valentine to President Obama. Ha. Not really. Actually today I mailed him a letter protesting that HHS mandate.

A friend told me that she knows a lady who married for the FIRST TIME at age 73. I guess you are never too old to find love. This gives me hope, but I really don't want to wait that long.

One blessing of unemployment I am not in an office where female co-workers are receiving roses. Oh, I have an interview this Thursday.

If you're married, remember your single friends.

Here are some pretty valentines to look at. I love these; they look so romantic and feminine. 

One more thing: my dad sent me a lovely "To my daughter" card. I'm glad I have my dad.

Rushing to the Next Big Day

Today is the 12th day of Christmas. Do I have to say good-bye to this season?

I noticed that stores are already selling cards and gifts and decorations for Valentine's Day. I hate the rushing of the seasons. I like to enjoy the present (unless it's a bad day). The only stores that should be allowed (if I were in charge) to sell items WAY AHEAD of a holiday or season are craft stores because it takes time for consumers to buy the supplies and hand make something. For people who are not going to craft, they can buy something at Walgreen's the night before.

How about we think of Jesus as a Valentine? God loved all of us in the world so much that He gave his only Son. I say come February 14, tie a big red ribbon around Jesus.

Getting Ready

1) Here I am getting ready to go to Mass, and I'm scheduled to serve as an EOM. I've put the whole Mother's Day issue and church attendance issue behind me for another year.

2) This week I received a short note from my godson. I do love him so much. He's in high school now, and there's nothing he can do that would make me stop loving him.

3) The church fathers aren't going to listen to me regarding the removal of original sin. Hey, no one is reading my blog as far as I can tell.

Hands

This past Sunday I was an extraordinary minister of communion. In the early '90 I was a communion minister and a lector. Then my close church friends moved away, and I got really depressed. Because I was so depressed I started blowing off my assignments until I was dropped from the schedules. Back then when I gave communion I would look into each person's eyes and see the love of Jesus. I had love for humanity and for all these people who received.

Once again I am a communion minister, and I am waiting to see the love, waiting to feel the love. The problem is that the current pastor is very particular about the protocol. Then he said to use common sense. Well, I forgot all the rules, so I'm nervous. Because I'm nervous I lose all common sense. Another communion minister (I forgot her name) told me that all these rules drive her nuts. Twice now I have confided my nervousness to an older woman, another communion minister I'll call E. I have known E since I was about seven years old. Twice she has prayed over me. That helps. She'll pray over anyone. She's very generous with her prayers, but I feel like she's giving me a Cadillac each time. So she told me that God is using my hands for this act of service and act of love. She said let God work through me. So, have I broken protocol? I don't know and I'm not sure I care. I am respectful as I can be in that moment when I'm on communion duty. And as I write this, I realize that as long as I don't knock down a candle and burn down the church everything will be okay. And if the candle shall fall and burn down the church, there are plenty of emergency exit doors. Everything will be okay. It would be horrible, it would be expensive, but the parish would survive. We've survived a lot.

Now, if I could relax and feel the love . . .