“You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.” // Matthew 22:37
It was almost midnight, and we continued to text. Should I reschedule? I really want you to take care of them if they need you. I checked my email for my flight plan again. Yes, I was all checked in and ready to board in the morning, going on a much-needed retreat with two other dear friends. We’d be directed by a wonderful and holy priest. We would actually have time set aside for prayer together, for silence, and for meaningful emotional rest from the tumult of our lives.
But one friend’s children were sick, not super sick, but sick enough that she probably needed to be available to care of them. In the back and forth of rescheduling or rain-checking our little retreat, I knew deep down that we just needed to cancel. She wouldn’t be able to enter into prayer if her husband were worriedly caring for the kids, and none of us could truly rest if her family was not at rest.
As I canceled my flight the following morning, I felt deep peace. But later that afternoon, when I should have been basking in the glow of a private Eucharistic Holy Hour, I looked around at the laundry piles, the kids squabbling, the frozen ground beef on the counter, and that peace zipped out the door.
I wanted God in the intimate quiet. His plans for me were in the communal loud.
It’s tempting for me and maybe for you to delegate our encounters with the Divine to curated moments, to sacred places, to special retreats, to glorious liturgies. Yes, He is there abundantly. But we are invited to love Him with all of us in the moment of our day, the moment of the reality in front of us, the mundane. He is here, too.
Lord Jesus, I love You with all my heart, soul, and mind in this very moment, not saving this for later, but offering myself to You now.
* Readings from Optional Memorial of Saint Frances of RomeHe is here, too. // Nell O'Leary Click To Tweet