Sometimes, ignoring the full story is a good thing.
I will forget about the heavy toddler who woke up after communion and said immediately, “I want to go home.” Instead, I will remember the big cathedral bells ringing at the moment of consecration.
I will forget about the 90 minutes or more of waiting in the confessional line (half before and half after Mass) , and instead remember the soloist for the wedding that was about to start singing “Ave Maria” at the moment of absolution.
I will forget about the ice cream shop stop after Mass where the store was down to only 8 flavors (the least popular ones, of course), and instead remember the Mom-of-5 greeting this Mom-of-6 and within 60 seconds learning that we also had homeschooling and military husbands in common.
I will forget about the kids who seem to have trouble going to sleep at night, and remember the hugs and kisses.
I think “Ave Maria” is my very favorite religious song.
Yesterday, I saw a family of 9, with one girl smack dab in the middle. I really wanted to ask how they managed to get the girl, but I just figured the girl was God's way of rewarding the mom for raising 8 boys (and counting- the youngest one wasn't crawling yet ;-).
Good night.