Something About Sunday

Mass was wonderful this morning, minus the little guy's spitfest while standing in line for Communion. It's ok, kiddo. Jesus understands. Or maybe Mary. I wonder if Jesus had reflux.

That's not where this is headed, and I believe God is lighthearted enough and wouldn't mind musings about His Son's baby days.

The Sheriff was well behaved, and I actually heard parts of the readings and homily. And that is where this post is headed.

In his homily, Father pointed toward the importance of the Crucifix. Our faith isn't based on the fact that life will always be smooth, carefree, joyous. Our world is broken, so very broken. It's God's sending of His own Son to take on this hurt, inequality, unfairness, and evil that gives us freedom in the midst of the pain.

I am stewing in my own knowledge of the brokenness of our world.  I am questioning questioning why some have and others have not. I am crying for those suffering from addictions. I am hurting for children who don't have a voice. I am feeling a bit lost.

Yet through these feelings, my heart knows the power the Crucifix brings. My heart knows that God doesn't send terrible events into our lives. God created a perfect world. Man has caused its hurt. We all have crosses to bear. Some have heavier ones than others. Some don't seem to have one at all. Some seem crushed beneath the ones they carry.

I'm not sure where this post was headed when it popped into my head during Mass, and I don't know where it's going, if anywhere. I do know that beneath whatever cross we bear, keeping our eyes lifted up, toward Jesus and His Cross can be comfort and remind us that this world will fade. The judgements here, the power here, the unfairness here will be nothing in the world to come.  I will be made accountable for my choices and others theirs. May I carry my crosses with grace so that others who may not be able to view Christ's Crucifix may see Him through my journey.