The Weight of the Cross

At Therese's baptism some weeks ago, Fr. Sean said that we parents need to help our children carry their crosses...because if we don't they might be too heavy for them. It was such an eye-opener for me because my responsibility as a mom really hit home. As much as I don't want my girls to suffer or ever see them with a broken heart, I understand that unexpected things happen in life and someday they will know and feel very deeply the sorrow that I want to shield them from. Hearing Fr. Sean's message, I knew that the best thing I could do for them is what my parents did for me: teach them who Jesus Christ is and how He is powerful enough to bear any pain or grief or sadness.

Both my mom and dad taught me how to suffer. Granted that I still find myself complaining when I'm tired or frustrated, I try to remember the grace that they received from the Lord to bear their crosses. When my dad had a stroke, he fought for his life. He tried to stay as positive as he could because he knew he was able to get through it 40 years before. He could have died at the young age of 28, paralyzed and put on his deathbed, but he told himself that God could heal him and he did. Before his health took a turn for the worse in March of 2005, I would attend his therapy sessions and I would watch him work so hard to regain his muscle strength. I remember walking into the hospital, seeing him working with the OT and holding a pencil so he could learn how to write again. It was like he was a little child in kindergarten...my heart fell when I thought about how capable he used to be. But he never gave up, and he was so patient through the training we had to go through just so I could help him get in and out of the car, how to use the bathroom, how to get up out of bed.

Mommy has also gone through so much - losing her husband, her job, and her eyesight - those only being some of the trials she has had to endure over the course of her life. She has taught me how to trust in God...to know that He has a plan for us, even when we no longer have what means so much to us. When Daddy got sick, I watched her care for him at night and on the weekends after working at three different clinics. There was no break, especially when she still had four teenagers to raise. I saw in my mom Mary standing at the foot of the cross...through her love and service, our family was able to survive such a difficult time. The Eucharist was her strength - I knew this because she always told me that when no one else seemed to understand what she was going through, she would always pay a visit to the Blessed Sacrament and turn to Jesus because He would never abandon her.

If it wasn't for the faith of my parents, I wouldn't be where I am right now (literally, in my classroom at SJS). If it wasn't for their prayers, I wouldn't have given my own life to Christ and renewed my relationship with God. It was the foundation that they laid for me and my brother and sisters that allowed us to bear the crosses that we have carried and still carry today.

And so will I do for my own family. Yes, it's hard but what other option are we willing to choose? By His grace alone...through the love we have for one another...

Amen.

+AMDG+