a Sunday thought

When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left, and could say, "I used everything you gave me".
 Erma Bombeck

For the past few days, I have been using some of Erma's funny quotes for my facebook status. To me, the funniest things are the truest things. This one stood out though, as being true in a profound way. It reminds me of St. Therese of Lisieux and her Little Way.

It is something like this--to love and accept completely the people and tasks God has put in my life. To do the routine things with faithfulness and joy, offering them to God, knowing that the great things are out of my reach. In so doing, the little things become great.  Like the widow's mite, or the loaves and fish.

Whatever I am given to do on a certain day, let me do it to the best of my ability, and not forget love. The world has enough clanging symbols. The uncanny thing is, when I strike out in some direction out of obedience, I am often just at the beginning of some unseen road, and where that road leads, I can never foresee.

"Love proves itself by deeds, so how am I to show my love? Great deeds are forbidden me. The only way I can prove my love is by scattering flowers and these flowers are every little sacrifice, every glance and word, and the doing of the least actions for love." St. Therese of Lisieux, The Little Flower   

Now, to depart completely from the higher things in life, to this.

My dear husband Bob has a habit of mixing up words while typing, such as interchanging bear and bare, etc...

Here are two of his best.

Recently our basement took on a smell that was exactly like a litterbox overdue for cleaning. Except we don't have a cat. We had no idea where it was coming from. Our landlord, David,  (the nicest landlord on the planet) was coming to do some maintenance, so Bob emailed him to tell him about the smell.  He stated that there was a fowl odor in our basement. When Bob got home from work, it was all I could do not to cluck.

But this one is for the record books. Our youngest, Malaika, goes to our parish school, St. Monica's. Over the years, we have had to appeal to our pastor, Father Kelley, for a bit of leeway here and there in order to manage our tuition payments. One time, Bob emailed him explaining our latest late payment (?). He added at the end, " I hope this doesn't cause you any incontinence".

Silly typo?

A chuckle.

Silly typo to a priest? 

Priceless.