Here and There

Thursday, February 28, 2013

The Litany of Humility


O Jesus! meek and humble of heart, Hear me.
From the desire of being esteemed, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the desire of being loved, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the desire of being extolled, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the desire of being honored, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the desire of being praised, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the desire of being preferred to others, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the desire of being consulted, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the desire of being approved, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the fear of being humiliated, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the fear of being despised, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the fear of suffering rebukes, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the fear of being calumniated, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the fear of being forgotten, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the fear of being ridiculed, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the fear of being wronged, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the fear of being suspected, Deliver me, Jesus.
That others may be loved more than I, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
That others may be esteemed more than I, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
That, in the opinion of the world, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
others may increase and I may decrease, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
That others may be chosen and I set aside, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
That others may be praised and I unnoticed, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
That others may be preferred to me in everything, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
That others may become holier than I, provided that I may become as holy as I should, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it. Amen.

Came across this in some Lent reflections.  This prayer is hard.  

Tuesday, February 05, 2013

Always the Heimlich

This is a picture from Disneyland in October, when Amanda and I went with the kids.  I cannot even believe that we did that, but we did.  The thought now of walking around the parks, getting on rides and such is so impossible.  But there we are.

Happens Every Day

Walking to the bus

There's a Dar Williams song that says:

"The first part of every day for me is good
I've got the bus stop in my neighborhood
Everything's on purpose, everywhere they go
Hiding in my car and running in the snow
Running with the friends they'll know for years
I've seen it all from here, from here

It happens every day, before they go to school
They play until the bus drives up beside my lawn
And there's always been a mother who waits till they are gone
Then she turns away, Happens every day"

It's strange to be the mother at the bus stop.  I love the bus, and I hate the bus.  It is so convenient and easy.  And it is so cruel...in a cliched way.  She climbs the steps that are so big for her now.  She looks at me from the window.  I wave.  It's a yellow school bus!  Years from now, just seeing one will make me pine for these days.  Or maybe not, but now, every time I watch it drive away it's a little bit awful.  And it's also so convenient and easy and I walk back home with the soon to be middle child, and it's fine.  But "the bus" is a symbol, bigger than my family or my Kindergartner   It's everybody's Kindergartner headed off to school, every child heading out alone, away from the home fire, each stop adding more to their number until they're a bus-full, buzzing and churning to get out and do all the big things they're going to do.

I've learned I can only handle all this 3 or 4 times a week, and one day, usually a Friday, I drive her to school just to avoid it all.