This morning I attended my fifty-ninth Mass of the year, surpassing Mrs. Brother Nacho's quota of "fifty-seven or fifty-eight." The number is not important, per se. Am I building the relationship with the Lord that I should be? Have I entrusted all I am, all I have, & all I could ever be to Him? Am I more likely to bless & less likely to curse my fellow man? Do I pray for my enemies? These are the my goals, the numbers are just a means to those ends.
Project MERCATOR
I am invited to a shindig tomorrow afternoon. The host says that he'd like to invite many more persons, but there are rain storms in the forecast & if in case of a cloudburst the outdoor event needs to beat a fleet retreat indoors, space will be limited. I made the cut. This morning, after Mass, 'twas opined that I'm fairly popular. I am not the least bit comfortable with this, though that is a wholly indefensible position. I like these people & it is not me they like, but Christ shining forth from within me; why should I be uncomfortable with that? Yet, uncomfortable I remain.
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