Posted by on Dec 2, 2011 in Reflections | 4 comments

Stiff neck



"There should be less talk;
a preaching point is not always
a meeting point. What do you 
do then? Take a broom and clean
someone's house. That says enough.
All of us are but His instruments
who do our little bit and pass by."
-Mother Teresa


Thanks to Beth for posting this on her blog. I've been pondering it for days now. 



My Priscilla came downstairs this morning with a grimace on her face and her head cocked to the side. She'd fallen asleep last night in an awkward position and now sharp stabs of pain race down her neck when she tries to straighten it. Stiff necks are frustrating as all get out so I certainly empathized with her tears, even calling the school to say she'd be staying home with me today; It's no secret I'm a softie. What pleasantly surprised me, however, was the response of her three siblings to the mysterious ailment causing their sister to whimper through breakfast with her noggin askew. Only moments earlier they'd been at it as usual, bickering over any and everything under the sun, then just like that, they were buzzing with concern. "Will Prissy be ok, mama?" cried Mary. "I'll tell her teacher what happened!" offered Ben. "No, don't!" interrupted Elijah, "She'll make you bring Priscilla's homework to her." Gasp! There wasn't a "That's not faiiiir! You didn't let me stay home when _________ (fill in the blank)!" to be heard. 


They fight hard, my sons and daughters, what with their four humongous personalities continuously vying for their indivual reasonings and ideas to be embraced by all. They annoy the heck out of each other, and their arguing can drive me batty – up a wall, I tell you. But on the flip side, I've been reminded, when one of their own is down, the other three swoop into action. See, they love hard too. And isn't that just the most realistic thing any of us could hope for? Though we will inevitably rub each other the wrong way sometimes, because we're human like that, when it comes down to it may we instinctively rush to raise each other up if tragedy or sadness or disappointment strikes. 


Love is easy when we see eye-to-eye, but becomes divine, authentic, when we automatically jump in, without strings attached or caveats,  and serve our hurting neighbors – regardless of their varying viewpoints, lifestyles and opinions. Action. It's all about action. Way less talk, much more action. Eucharist fed Love as unconditional action blesses my being with meaning; there is hands down nothing more satisfying. It fills my emotional bucket and your bucket simultaneously. It's the only real medicine (believe me, I've swallowed plenty 0f placebos!) that brings legitimate healing to my ailing soul. 



Take a broom and clean

someone's house. That says enough.