Driving Toward Sanctity
Most days this at-home mom is really an in-car mom.
I drive to piano lessons, fencing lessons, and to/from my daughter's Catholic High School 27 miles away. None of which have carpools. Let's not even mention the sports seasons. I also go to adoration, and lately, bring communion to someone who is sick. Like most, I have the normal maintenance list of errands and trips to the store that every family needs. Clocking 500 miles a week or more is not unusual. For me, being in the car is normal.
It's a good thing I like to drive. I love listening to music or a good teaching tape. I sometimes use the quiet of the car to pray the rosary, and I could really do that more, to be honest. When people ask me how the graduate work is going--I always wince when I say its going slowly. Its sad that some days I spend more time behind the wheel than studying!
Its also sad to say that sometimes I'm more of a road warrior than a prayer warrior.
I gave some thought to that last night, as I spent an hour vacuuming and cleaning my car. I just could not drive another mile without removing the lived-in look from my rolling domicile. I have been on the road for the last five days. This was not my normal life-related commuting. These were Special Occasion road trips: attending an out-of-town wake for a friend, taking the kids to the mountains to ski for a day, and then traveling out of state to visit my sister's family. All good, all needed. But through the busy miles, I heard the call for me to enter into Lent in a deeper way.
But I was balking, complaining...What I really want is a day that I don't have to be in the car. I need a day to call my own, but it's not likely that I'll get it anytime soon. I could use a good retreat day. But in the meantime, what to do as I head out the door today, again, keys in hand?
I hear a quiet little instructive voice from the One Who Holds the Keys*: "Use this!" Yes, even this.
Like changing the car's engine oil at regular intervals, once again, the liturgical calendar breaks into my own. Lent provides a road map for this weary traveler. And so, I'm offering up that feeling-trapped-by-the-schedule attitude, among other things. I'm offering up feeling inconvenienced by all my car duties.
To borrow a phrase from a sermon from my former pastor, Fr. Francis Gaeta, I am fasting from complaining and feasting on gratitude...grateful for the opportunities my children have for growth, and for the little opportunities I have to grow in sanctity--even if it is in 4-door VW. I am also fasting from wasting time, and feasting on the gift of time that each day brings. I am fasting from blindly going about my business, and feasting on taking notice of the world around me and the people I meet as I travel. I am fasting from idle moments and feasting on intercession.
Its a small offering from AAA-card-carrying member of the human race.
Lord, help me to find strength each day to run the race with honor, clinging to the road map that leads me to my final destination.
* "But he laid his right hand upon me, saying, "Fear not, I am the first and the last, and the living one; I died, and behold I am alive for evermore, and I have the keys of Death and Hades." Rev. 1:17-18.
Copyright 2006 Patricia W. Gohn
This article appeared previously at www.CatholicMom.com.
I drive to piano lessons, fencing lessons, and to/from my daughter's Catholic High School 27 miles away. None of which have carpools. Let's not even mention the sports seasons. I also go to adoration, and lately, bring communion to someone who is sick. Like most, I have the normal maintenance list of errands and trips to the store that every family needs. Clocking 500 miles a week or more is not unusual. For me, being in the car is normal.
It's a good thing I like to drive. I love listening to music or a good teaching tape. I sometimes use the quiet of the car to pray the rosary, and I could really do that more, to be honest. When people ask me how the graduate work is going--I always wince when I say its going slowly. Its sad that some days I spend more time behind the wheel than studying!
Its also sad to say that sometimes I'm more of a road warrior than a prayer warrior.
I gave some thought to that last night, as I spent an hour vacuuming and cleaning my car. I just could not drive another mile without removing the lived-in look from my rolling domicile. I have been on the road for the last five days. This was not my normal life-related commuting. These were Special Occasion road trips: attending an out-of-town wake for a friend, taking the kids to the mountains to ski for a day, and then traveling out of state to visit my sister's family. All good, all needed. But through the busy miles, I heard the call for me to enter into Lent in a deeper way.
But I was balking, complaining...What I really want is a day that I don't have to be in the car. I need a day to call my own, but it's not likely that I'll get it anytime soon. I could use a good retreat day. But in the meantime, what to do as I head out the door today, again, keys in hand?
I hear a quiet little instructive voice from the One Who Holds the Keys*: "Use this!" Yes, even this.
Like changing the car's engine oil at regular intervals, once again, the liturgical calendar breaks into my own. Lent provides a road map for this weary traveler. And so, I'm offering up that feeling-trapped-by-the-schedule attitude, among other things. I'm offering up feeling inconvenienced by all my car duties.
To borrow a phrase from a sermon from my former pastor, Fr. Francis Gaeta, I am fasting from complaining and feasting on gratitude...grateful for the opportunities my children have for growth, and for the little opportunities I have to grow in sanctity--even if it is in 4-door VW. I am also fasting from wasting time, and feasting on the gift of time that each day brings. I am fasting from blindly going about my business, and feasting on taking notice of the world around me and the people I meet as I travel. I am fasting from idle moments and feasting on intercession.
Its a small offering from AAA-card-carrying member of the human race.
Lord, help me to find strength each day to run the race with honor, clinging to the road map that leads me to my final destination.
* "But he laid his right hand upon me, saying, "Fear not, I am the first and the last, and the living one; I died, and behold I am alive for evermore, and I have the keys of Death and Hades." Rev. 1:17-18.
Copyright 2006 Patricia W. Gohn
This article appeared previously at www.CatholicMom.com.
posted by Pat Gohn at
7:14 PM
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