Well played, God....

Dear God,

It's me again.   In case You forgot my name, I'm Heidi.  (Just kidding.  I  know You didn't forget my name.  I guess that's just me trying to be funny.  I'll stop that now.  I know it's not really all that funny.   I guess I'm nervous.  I get silly when I get nervous).

Anyway.

Where was I?

Oh right.   Hi, again.  It's been awhile.  Things have been crazy lately, and I guess that I kind of put You on the back burner.  I mean, I *knew* You were there and I kept thinking, "Man, I really need to go talk to that guy" but, I don't know.  I guess I was sleep-deprived and delirious and well, if you can't do something right, you shouldn't do it at all, right?

Wrong.

So, here I am again.  Sitting in front of a computer, trying to put all of my jumbled thoughts into a semi-understandable post.   Do you like the new blog?   It feels good to start fresh again.  Too much mess at the old place to sort through - I guess it was just a bit too distracting.   Someday, I'm sure that this blog will turn into that kind of storage space, but for now....it's clean.  And new.  And easy to manage.   Not overwhelming.

Because, well, You know how overwhelming things are right now and have been recently.  I know You've been sitting there, waiting for me to say something, but stubborn me kind of forgot to look for You, standing out there on the front porch and waiting to be let in.   Thanks for knocking.   I'm not sure how much longer I would have made it on my own.  

Thanks for shouting at me this weekend.  I can be a bit stubborn sometimes, and when I get it in my mind that I can do it all, well......You know how it goes.  It isn't pretty.  

And I heard You pretty clear this weekend.  I mean, a busy mom of little kids who was able to go to Mass TWO TIMES in one weekend and hear the same reading both times?   Once even without kids, so no reason to miss what was being read.  (One of these days, the baby WILL stop pooping during the Gospel reading.  I know she will.  Someday).     It was such a familiar passage - one that I've clung to in the past for various reasons - but for some reason,  there was something new that You wanted to tell me.  

You wanted me to remember that You are the authour of my life.  Not me.  You are the foundation.  Not me.   I wasn't doing it on my own very well, and there was a reason.  I'm not *supposed* to be doing it on my own.   You need to be there, too.   

So, please come in.   I've been trying to do this on my own far too long now.   Forgive me for forgetting that You were standing there, all along, waiting for the invitation to come in.   I'm a bit clueless sometimes.

But You knew that already.  You've been standing out there, watching through the window for quite awhile, after all.   Sorry for that.  I'm sure the view wasn't too pretty at times.   

What was it that your buddy, St Josemaria, said? 

"Nunc coepi! — now I begin! This is the cry of a soul in love which, at every moment, whether it has been faithful or lacking in generosity, renews its desire to serve — to love! — our God with a wholehearted loyalty."  (Furrow, 161)

Right.  Now I begin.   Now that You're inside, where I should have invited You to begin with.   

Let's do this.