The other day, Jesus did not give me what I wanted, so I bowed my head and said (like such a spoiled brat), “Jesus, I’m still going to love you. But sometimes love really is a choice.” I looked up and saw a crucifix on the wall that seemed to say, “I know.”
It’s funny that love is that way. You don’t really realize how hard love is until you feel the pain that accompanies that choosing. The Cross is pure love, an offering of love to us who couldn’t know how to love, unless He loved us first.
Change of subject. Advent is upon us (week 2 now), and I have been thinking lots about Mama Mary. Imagine her in these last few weeks before the baby Jesus was to show his face to the world. Imagine the anticipation she must have felt at meeting him for the first time and seeing his precious eyes meet hers. Mother Mary, give us this anticipation! I want to be just as pumped for Christmas. Who needs mistletoe when Love himself is here? Wow, sorry; that was cheesy. But you get the point. Anyway, it was my dad who first inspired my love for Mary. And for the record, men who love Mary are just cool. In the same way men are cooler when they own 2 or 3 flannel shirts, men who love Mary are so beautiful to me. How can you not love someone who adores her? She carried Christ within her, and has become beautiful because of it. Still she calls herself the Lord’s “handmaiden,” sharing Christ with the world and teaching us how to share Him with others.
Happy Advent
