Just Keep Swimming

I got home late last night after attending a leadership meeting at our Parish. We are on the verge of a revival of sorts after a long line of unfortunate events that should have shut us down.
I keep looking at the events as they unfold in the spiritual sense, as everything that happens to us has meaning in this realm.
Our Parish celebrated our 110th Anniversary this past week and it was amazing the amount of people who attended. Some of them saying that they couldn't believe we were still here. Others always knew we would make it and were reveling in answered prayers and others just enjoyed the festivities.
The meeting went better than expected as it could have gone either way. A core team worked really hard to spin it in a positive light, looking to the future and thanking God for blessings received. As this was a meeting to bring all of our ministries and groups together along with the Parish staff to lay out a plan of moving forward working together instead of separately. It is a challenge to keep everyone feeling included.
After the meeting, I got to talking with the woman who headed up the 110th anniversary festivities and the conversation turned the amount of distractions she had been facing. I could totally relate!! She had mentioned that for no apparent reason, her new car, just quit working on a local road and had spent the entire day at the shop. She commented on how it was probably better that we weren't able to communicate during the day, as the meeting might not as gone as well.
Yes, it is great, when we get out-of-the-way and let the spirit work, is what went through my head. We talked about the well-meaning suggestions of Parishioners who were eager to share how she could have done this and that better. She shared how hard it was to hear at times, without becoming discouraged and defensive. I shared some of my own struggles on that same topic, but mine came from family.
However, the message received and internalized is the same. This is where we must be aware of the spiritual battle waging around us, for this is a common tactic of the evil one, to make us think we are not good enough, that we have failed, why bother; no one appreciates our efforts anyway. Appealing to our sense of pride, and how dare they talk or do this / that to me/you. It causes us to doubt our calling and abandon our mission. It is the route of dissension and destruction of the Parish and the home if we let it take root.
When one is doing what the Lord asks us to do, these are the types of things that we should expect. Not to mention when one is undertaking a Pilgrimage. Both of us are going to see the Pope in Philadelphia at the end of the month. These types of annoyances are par for the course.
It was quite late when I got home and some of my children were already in bed. I stopped to check in with each of them and say prayers. When I got to my son, I found him sniffling and wiping his noise, realizing he hadn't got his allergy medicine, I went to get it.
I really don't know how it happened. I got the tablet out of the cupboard, went to the family room to turn down the TV, crossed the room to get the remote and BAM. Next thing I know I am trying to keep my footing as I tripped over my shoes, healed sandals, one shoe must have flipped over and my right foot came down right on the heel as it twisted and I regained my footing. Sharp, piecing pain shot up from the bottom of my foot, I felt nauseous it hurt so bad. Throbbing in pain, I limped up the steps, not daring to put any pressure on it as my children laugh as i try to make it up the steps wincing in pain. Finally, I make it to my son's room and just plopped on the bed, I handed him the tablet and could not move. I felt searing pain from the bottom of my foot, I wondered how bad it was.
I laid there for quite a while, with images of Our Lord flashing through my head. I thought how could He had endured a nail through the foot when this (probably just a flesh wound) was excruciating. Finally I ventured downstairs, but I still couldn't look at it. Didn't want to see the damage just yet. Finally, I got the courage to clean it with peroxide, it burned and bubbled for 4-5 rounds of cleaning, the pain was horrendous. I couldn't even speak to my husband, I actually cried, it hurt so bad.
When my daughter brought me the Neosporin and a band-aid, I couldn't bring myself to touch it. I was telling her how much it hurt, and that I didn't know how I was going to do it. She laughed and said, " Mom, you're such a baby." I know I thought, but it really hurt.
She then said, " Just do what you always tell us to do: Offer it up."
Och!!! How's that for compassion!!!
I sat with that a moment. You know she's right, that's what I should have done or do now, I think to myself. Why didn't I do that?
I looked up at her 15-year-old face and said, " You're right. I should have, but I forgot. I guess most of us forget to offer it up." As I pondered how many souls could have been helped if I just remembered to offer Him my suffering.
Lying in bed pondering the events as they unfolded, I realized, I shouldn't have been surprised. In fact, should have been more spiritually aware and immediately offered it up.
Falling asleep, I asked the Lord to help me to remember the graces given when we offer up our suffering. I say a little prayer asking Him to use my suffering (which I wasn't going to escape) for the Souls in Purgatory and for the conversion of the world.
Remembering my Gram, as my heart swells with love for her, for teaching me to offer it up. May I remember it the next time I suffer in any way.