You know what I find odd. How people usually are either the extreme of one thing or another. I work in the customer service department of an auto insurance company and I deal with extremes all the time. Extreme rate increases, extreme excuses, extremely late bills and extremely angry customers. I deal with extremes pretty well, I think, after all I still have my job and am doing rather well.

I just got off the phone with a gentleman who was an extremist. This man was extremely lost. He knew he had to accomplish something, but he didn’t know what department to speak to or even how to ask for what he needed. My job is to help people like this. I determine their needs and take care of them. When it so happens that I am unable to, I make sure I get them to someone that can. I do this day after day and this type of extreme still amazes me.

It reminds me of a child breaking their favorite toy and taking the pieces to their mom with tears in their eyes. That child doesn’t even have to say anything except hand the pieces over to Mom and Mom knows what needs to be done.

It actually got me thinking about the people in my life that can fix things without me describing what specifically is wrong. For example… no matter how bad my mood may be, both my brother and brother-in-law can always make me laugh and pull me out of the slump. My sister is the best listener I’ve found so far. Her face might as well be one giant ear. My niece can tell something’s wrong within the first 2 seconds of seeing me.

This has to do with vulnerability, I think. I’ve allowed myself to be open and vulnerable with them and in turn, they have gotten to know me better than I would like, sometimes. There is so much in this world to be extreme about, but the people who really matter, are the ones who willingly put up with your extremes.

Thank you Christopher, David, Tina and Emily for putting up with my extremes.

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I’ve been thinking about sleep a lot lately. Maybe it’s the lack of it that I’ve been getting or the deep desire that I have for it that’s caused this upsurge of thought.

Anyway, I went to bed at 830 last night. That’s right, kids, 830. While you were probably deciding what to have as a snack or even trying to finish your homework, I was delightfully snoozing away on my massive bed filled with pillows and all the blankets I own. And I must say that today I can say or the first time in…. well a long time, that I actually feel rested.

Did you know that according to Stanford University teenagers need at least 9hours and 15minutes of sleep a night to function properly? Children need 10hours and adults can function on 8hours and 15 minutes. So you guys need 9 hours and 15 minutes, however, most teenagers only get 6 hours and 30 minutes.

No because most of you aren’t getting enough sleep, you guys are more prone to irritability, lack of self confidence, and moodswings… not to mention depression, the inability to concentrate, and endangering your immune system!

So, my point is this…. we all need to get more sleep!

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My soul, my soul must sing!
My soul, my soul must sing!
My soul, my soul must sing, “Beautiful One!”

Beautiful One, I love. Beautiful One, I adore.
Beautiful One, my soul must sing!

I love this song. I especially love the first line I posted. I just think it’s so indicative of how we should approach not just a song at Mass, or Mass itself, but our lives as Christians.

…or just our lives in general.

If we aren’t doing the things in our lives with such passion that it causes our very being to be moved, are we really doing what we are supposed to be doing? Shouldn’t the things that matter to us matter so much that they affect the way we act, who we are, to our very core?

I must say, Beautiful One didn’t always capture my mind the way it does every time I hear it now. It used to be “just another song.” Sure, it was good, but it wasn’t one of those special songs for me. One Sunday, however, as we were singing it for a closing song, my own sound was eclipsed by the sound of the person behind me (which, by the way, doesn’t happen too often!). (:

The way Pam was singing, I could tell that it meant something different to her than it meant to me at the time. I could hear the words coming from deep inside her, praising Jesus with everything that she had.

I was blown away. I had been singing…but I hadn’t been feeling the lyrics, letting them penetrate me and become a part of me. Every time we sing that song now, I think back to that day, and God’s little gift to me through Pam’s voice.

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The pro-life march is January 19th – 23rd.  We are going with a group of parishes from around the diocese.  There will probably be about 1000 students on the trip.  It’s a great chance to witness to the sanctity of life and grow in your own faith.  Download the informantion and permission form here.
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Usually, when I attend Mass, and I’m doing my part, I end up getting something out of it…some strange bit of knowledge or wisdom, or an idea about my life or some such tidbit. Most of the time when this happens, it’s something either Fr. Jeff or Fr. Benz says in his homily that piques my interest and grasps me in a unique way.

However, yesterday at Mass it wasn’t Fr. Benz…

As I was singing and praying after Communion, I was distracted by this young boy. He was no more than 5 or 6 years old, and as his mother received Communion, he proceeded to skip and dance his way back to his seat. He was jumping up and down and just generally not concerned with anything else that was going on around him.

And I thought, “Shouldn’t we all be this way after we go through the line for Communion? Shouldn’t we be dancing and skipping and all off in our own little worlds after we receive the Eucharist?” This kid was so overjoyed, and he didn’t even get to receive Jesus in the way that we do. We should be the ones dancing!

Sometimes you find the inspiration in the least likely of sources…

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