Foot cramps are some of the most annoying things.
I’m tired as all get-out. Friday evening into Saturday morning: sleep got worse the more that I prayed for it to come. Saturday evening, I slept a bit better, but I still woke up 30 minutes before necessary. I also encountered some spiritual attacks akin to September 2009. I’ve since doused the room and bed in holy water, I just need to get my hands on some exorcised salt.
I learned that the blessing is gone from a Rosary if it is broken and not repaired; that it needs to be disassembled and buried. What about when the beads on the rose petal Rosary shatter and fall off? The beads were replaced, so now what?
Bought two books on Mary today. One is an illustrated prayer book; I am His Child, and if I need pictures to help me out, so be it. It’s terrible, trying to learn about Mary and have her be my Momma when I can scarcely figure out my own mother, how to get her to want me as me, and not as her creature. The other is titled Mary of Nazareth, which is proving to be simply clear and informative. No fancy words, just saying it plainly with Scripture. Hopefully I’ll find this information more human and connective. Although there was a great book I saw in the parish bookstore a few weeks back that looks really interesting: The Life of Mary: As Seen by the Mystics. Perhaps in a few months?
Speaking with good spiritual friends recently has helped me keep my chin up. I may be tired, sleep deprived, and not eating all three meals per day, but it will come to pass. I spent the morning at Mass, an hour on the phone, and spent the majority of the day teaching a different class for Confirmation – they were lacking an adult leader so I got switched out. Its neat to know that some of the difficulties I have to teaching my kids are personality differences and attitude, since the group I taught today was small, but we were all good and nice to each other. It was different. Not every class is like mine; that’s one of many things I got out of today.
Another was the offer to spend a week in a good family home, and a good Catholic one at that. I wish I could accept it. I spend so much time outside of my home, just to get away that I have incurred plenty of examples of good Christian homes. I get to know that not all parents shout and yell in arguments to the extent that you wish and wish to fly away out of the house. I get to see people who actually show chaste affection rather than just coolness or a weird short burst of cuteness (weird – as it’s out of character and only a few months per year rather than daily affection). Perhaps one of these days. This is one of my aims in entering therapy – wanting to learn to switch from the ways I’ve been taught, to the right path; otherwise I’ll enter and leave religious life angry and confront people wrongly. Subversive living is adaptive at home and it kills vocations in religious life.
How am I supposed to learn how it is to have a Mother?