66/365 Isn't God Interesting

"Bridgett?" the voice on the phone said when I answered at 9:15. I was busy printing out my notes for RCIA and making a handout for everyone else to follow along (but not read my goofy notes).

"This is," I replied.

"Hi, uh, this is Joel? And I just wanted to call, I didn't know if I even had your number, but I wanted to call because I'm not feeling well and so I'm not going to be there today and I'm hoping that this doesn't mess you up too much."

I told him I hoped he'd feel better, that lots of stuff seemed to be going around these days. And I explained that this actually made life a lot easier, that I was so glad he called because I had a baby who was sick and juggling everything this morning was going to be difficult.

"So you haven't left for church yet?"

Which I didn't laugh in response to, but we are one of those families who breeze in the door at 9:58 after picking Sophia up from Atrium. "No," I answered. "I'm still at home. I'll plan on seeing you next week, then?"

"Ok."

I canceled the print job but looked at the paper in my hand. The idea behind conversatio is that we discover that we have failed God in some way, and we acknowledge that we have, but we do not stop there and become discouraged or make excuses for ourselves that would lead to hardness of heart.

[expletive deleted]

So I took Sophia to church with girl scout cookies. I walked in, and there was Fr. Miguel. We were reasonably early, in fact. I said good morning. I told him Joel was sick. We both shook our heads, smiling at the irony of the past 24 hours of sturm und drang, as Mike would put it.

"Isn't God interesting?" he exclaimed.

So I sat in the second pew and listened to Miguel's homily smack me across the face (hopefully not intentionally but it, well, spoke to me) and took Sophia home to gather up dress and dance paraphernalia. Spent the afternoon with my 93 year old great-aunt and her son and daughter-in-law as we watched my daughter's dance school wow everyone.