We got up early and went to Divine Liturgy this morning for the Feast of the Entrance of the Theotokos into the Temple. That's my favorite thing to do on a weekday. And between now and Nativity, there's going to be a weekday liturgy about once a week. Tomorrow we go again, for Thanksgiving, so this week it's two! This makes me happy.
Of course I can't comprehend receiving Christ Himself in the Eucharist, but the reality is there nonetheless. I meet Him. And He fills me with life and joy. Even on the bad days. I cannot touch Him, yet he comes and touches me. I cannot apprehend Him, yet He gives Himself to me.
On the way home, I dropped some food off for someone who is ill, and was also giving a ride to the doctor for the brother in my parish who makes my chronic illness situation look like the walk in the park that it is. But this man is more full of peace and joy than just about anyone I know. He prays.
So, we are rolling along, up Harrodsburg Road discussing transformation, theosis and morphine; God's goodness and chronic pain, when suddenly we hear this funny noise. At first we thought the brakes, recently fixed, were going bad. But that seemed unlikely. He told me to pull over, that I had a flat. I can never figure these things out on my own. Turns out he was right. I would have driven on it much further if he had not been with me. I would have done serious damage to my car, most likely.
Between the two of us we managed to figure out where the jack was, get it out (both of us had hurting hands), figure out how to crank the screw loose that enabled the spare tire to drop to the ground underneath the van, unbolt the old tire (that took me standing on the lever to get it to budge...a good thing I'm so heavy), get the jack and laboriously crank it up (we took turns working and resting). I wasn't in much pain today (except for my wrists which have been "going" lately), but my friend was. He helped anyways, perhaps more than he should have. What a gentleman.
And in this humble service, I saw Christ in my brother. There on the side of the road. Cars whizzing past. Cripple and Crippleder changing a flat tire. It reminded me of washing feet. And I could see this transfiguration in my brother in Christ, I could see peace, and joy, and a light, humility and love.
There was more in my day, more glimpses of Jesus, but this one story is enough.
The cornbread for the stuffing is made (I was going to get a mix until I read the ingredients and wen't "Yuck, I'll make it from scratch!"), the butternut and acorn squashes are cooked, "Mrs. Smith" has been so kind as to make all those nice pies for me, so that is done as well.
Tomorrow it's just slow cooking the turkey, making the gravy, stir frying the green beans, and doing mashed potatoes, seasoning the squash, and that will be that.
Happy Thanksgiving to all, and also a blessed feast of the Entrance of the Theotokos into the Temple. Glorious Feast Day!
Of course I can't comprehend receiving Christ Himself in the Eucharist, but the reality is there nonetheless. I meet Him. And He fills me with life and joy. Even on the bad days. I cannot touch Him, yet he comes and touches me. I cannot apprehend Him, yet He gives Himself to me.
On the way home, I dropped some food off for someone who is ill, and was also giving a ride to the doctor for the brother in my parish who makes my chronic illness situation look like the walk in the park that it is. But this man is more full of peace and joy than just about anyone I know. He prays.
So, we are rolling along, up Harrodsburg Road discussing transformation, theosis and morphine; God's goodness and chronic pain, when suddenly we hear this funny noise. At first we thought the brakes, recently fixed, were going bad. But that seemed unlikely. He told me to pull over, that I had a flat. I can never figure these things out on my own. Turns out he was right. I would have driven on it much further if he had not been with me. I would have done serious damage to my car, most likely.
Between the two of us we managed to figure out where the jack was, get it out (both of us had hurting hands), figure out how to crank the screw loose that enabled the spare tire to drop to the ground underneath the van, unbolt the old tire (that took me standing on the lever to get it to budge...a good thing I'm so heavy), get the jack and laboriously crank it up (we took turns working and resting). I wasn't in much pain today (except for my wrists which have been "going" lately), but my friend was. He helped anyways, perhaps more than he should have. What a gentleman.
And in this humble service, I saw Christ in my brother. There on the side of the road. Cars whizzing past. Cripple and Crippleder changing a flat tire. It reminded me of washing feet. And I could see this transfiguration in my brother in Christ, I could see peace, and joy, and a light, humility and love.
There was more in my day, more glimpses of Jesus, but this one story is enough.
The cornbread for the stuffing is made (I was going to get a mix until I read the ingredients and wen't "Yuck, I'll make it from scratch!"), the butternut and acorn squashes are cooked, "Mrs. Smith" has been so kind as to make all those nice pies for me, so that is done as well.
Tomorrow it's just slow cooking the turkey, making the gravy, stir frying the green beans, and doing mashed potatoes, seasoning the squash, and that will be that.
Happy Thanksgiving to all, and also a blessed feast of the Entrance of the Theotokos into the Temple. Glorious Feast Day!
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