8PM on Sunday I got this news that totally freaked me out. I spent the entire night awake with my mind racing. Earlier in the weekend, I had a small exposure to poison ivy (I wiped my eyelid while weeding the garden and forgot to wash that part well afterwards with Dial soap). I think it was from my mental stress, but by 3 AM on Monday night my entire eye had swollen shut.
I woke up on Tuesday and looked awful. I didn't even know if it was safe for me to drive with one eye to Target to buy Benedryll. Finally, my right eye opened up a small crack.
If you can picture me with the entire right side of my face red and swollen, with my eye--this giant blob--shopping for medicine with five kids, trying not to die from social phobia--that was me. Vanity is a sucky sin, thanks for working on that with me, Mr. Jesus!
I waited all day for my husband to come home at 6:05 to relieve me. Turns out that he had a suckier day than me. How is that even possible? It is.
I decided that since we are "one flesh" my freakish 96 hours after exposure poison ivy break out was really my body reacting sympathetically to his stress.
Wednesday was super, duper hard.
This Thursday, I had a task to do for Sallie Mae.
Have you met my friend, Sallie? She probably owns the student loans for you, your spouse or someone you love. She's "rawther" demanding, and has all sorts of forms with complicated directions written in small print.
I got to the post office and realized that I'd forgotten to bring one piece of paperwork for my friend Sallie. So I loaded up 5 horribly upset children into my van and drove back to my house. I think I was in the middle of hearing a long litany about how I am the worse Mother in the world when I saw her....
The Iraqi immigrant mother who Sister Mary Ann profiled in our Catholic Charities August newsletter.
She was walking her three year old down my street.
So like the crazy Servant I am, I waved. Then I parked my car and jumped out to greet her. She was very, very kind. I told her that "I have four daughters and one son". She laughed and said "we have five daughters and no sons." I drove off with a light feeling in my house and resolved to invite her to dinner at my house soon.
I hate being a Servant of God when it means that I have itchy, red splotches of poison ivy on my face, or have to console sobbing toddlers in the post office, but I love it when I get to greet someone in person that I've prayed for from afar. Our God is good. He uses long, boring, post office errands to promote the good of his Holy Kingdom.