A Small Victory
When I went to Alabama a week ago for my friend’s husband’s funeral, I didn’t take any of my children with me, and during those times when I don’t have children with me, I try to fully embrace my childlessness.
On the way back to Nashville from Tuscaloosa, I really wanted to stop by The Shrine of the Blessed Sacrament, a place where they have the Stations of the Cross. I was looking forward to walking the Stations and meditating again on Jesus’ sacrifice. The Shrine is located about halfway between Tuscaloosa and Nashville, but it’s about 20 miles off the highway on a country road. If I stopped, I knew I would be pushing it time-wise and would probably not be able to pick up my two little ones from preschool, but Jeff had said he could pick up Julia and Jeremiah if I didn’t make it back in time. I really wanted to see my children, but I’m bad about trying to squeeze in one more thing which usually makes me late to everything. This, again, would have been one of those times. However, I pictured myself having this spiritual moment of solitude with Jesus at the Shrine, so I was seriously having this whole dilemma. I really wanted to do both but deep down inside I knew that I couldn’t fit both in without driving the rest of the way home like a stressed-out, crazy woman and still being late due to my warped sense of time. So I just kept asking Abba what I should do, because I was sure He would want me to spend time with Him at the Shrine. I got off the interstate and went about 5 miles up the road when I was reminded that He’s not at the shrine…I didn’t have to go visit Him there. The thought also hit me that this very small denial of self by giving up what I really wanted to do was love embodied in self-sacrifice.
I turned my van around in someone’s driveway and headed back to the highway. I was able to have my quiet moment with Jesus in my van and also pick up my children from preschool…peace and joy ensued…and not having to huff it back to Nashville was a bonus.
