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Offer It Up?

Sometimes, it seems like all the suffering comes at once. I don't know about you, but I'm not feeling much like a royal priest offering his whole life back to the Father. I'm feeling like I'm being crushed.

There are days when your prayers are tears. Words are a luxury befitting happier times.

And the worst part is, my health is fine. My circumstances are just fine. No truer thing has ever been written: If you love anyone at all truly, you will suffer. And so I suffer the temptation to condemn myself, because there are much worse things than this. Then I remind myself that I've learned to downplay my feelings improperly my whole life. It is not true or right to pretend that I'm not hurting when I am. Even if the crosses are not all mine, I bear them too, because I love.

But I had this high and lofty thought on the way to Mass: if the vale of tears is doing this to me, how great is the joy that awaits us? Can you even imagine? Dear St. Paul, I recall you saying something! I'm hoping in this with all I have, though it's a pittance. These are my widow's mites; these are my last stand.

Do not go on further, Lord. Please stay.
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