After three long, tiring and gruesome weeks our house is MRSA free. It's a miracle. But then, I'm not surprised that the God of the universe chose to make his presence known in our house on High Ave. I can't tell you how we did it, and well then again, yes I can. We did everything the doctors asked of us and then some. We prayed. That's what faith can do. It can move mountains and sure as heck, kick bacteria out of my little cfer's sputum cultures. I have to admit though (look up admit in any Webster's thesaurus and you'll get some version of the word confess) there is nothing quite more humbling than having a doctor check your three thousand parts for MRSA. Actually, it's just three parts, but three thousand sounds better. My dad always exaggerates. Growing up with him probably rubbed off a little on me. I always knew to divide whatever he said in half. That was a much more accurate assessment of the situation. My husband is the same. But he UNDER exaggerates. Everything he says in terms of time needs to be doubled to be truly authentic. I know that if he says he'll be home in an hour he really means two.
This weekend I spent the weekend in Steubenville, OH being completely amazed at the work our Lord is doing in the hearts of our parish's youth. But unexpectedly, he did something amazing in my heart as well. On the 10 hour bus ride home the 28 of us shared what the Lord had done in our life over the conference. We heard some amazing stories from the young people that truly inspired me. A girl who just graduated from high school is giving up purchasing clothes for herself and in turn, saving the money so she can go and do mission work sometime in the future. Another, is going to attend daily Mass. A young man from our group wants to start a 'brotherhood' for young men in our parish to come together monthly and pray with one another in their struggles of faith.
I shared with our group my hope for the weekend was to be real with our Lord in adoration and ask of Him one very honest question: Why me? Why have I been chosen to care for three children with special needs.
And he answered. Through the voice of the keynote speaker, Chris Padgett.
He asked us to repeat the phrase "Jesus picks me." The first time, it was just the words that slipped off my tongue. Nothing more than that. Just the words. The second time yet again, just the words. And finally the third time it came from the heart. Jesus picks me.
And then came my rebuttle. Sure, I get it. Jesus picked me. But I am not equipped for what it takes. I don't have nearly the gifts to even begin to feel adequate.
Jesus answered again. He asked us to repeat this phrase: "Jesus prepares me." Yup, like an iron skillet to the head, God wacked my mind back to divine revelation. And to seal the deal, the third and final phrase was "Jesus protects me."
I told the teens on our bus that Sunday that so many of my last few month's days were filled with "This not my life.." "I don't want to do this..." "I can't possibly."
Every single one of us committed to praying for the next 30 days consecuetively. Why 30? Research shows it takes 21 days to form a habit out of doing something. 30 seals the deal. Today is day 3 and I'm proud to say I've been able to remain faithful to this committment. For the first time in my entire life, I've decided to read a book (and by first time, I mean a real and honest read from beginning to end). God, Help Me: How to Grow in Prayer. I'm already 3/4 of the way into it, but I highly recommend it! I'll try and recap some of the highlights from it in the weeks to come.