You know that part in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe when things are starting to thaw and change and the Beaver’s tell the Pevensys that Aslan is on the move?
Jesus is on the move.
I know it’s true because the US Bishops are thawing. The river that they are is changing from a trickle to a wild, rushing current. They aren’t backing down in the face of the HHS mandate or any other ridiculousness but growing stronger and firmer by the day. They’ve made a call to arms and have released a letter for US Catholics to return to prayer and fasting. Meatless and fasting Fridays – ALL YEAR ROUND. Adoration at least once a month. The rosary every day.
We are girding our loins, folks.
We sat the kiddos down on Monday and outlined our plan. They are the best accountability partners one could ask for. And scrupulous!
Anyway, we had a time sensitive errand to run this morning that meant abandoning morning prayer in our jammies and praying the rosary on the road. They stuffed their beads into their pockets and joyfully climbed into the van. We took care of the bank and, upon hitting the open road, prepared to pray.
“Oh no!” Ellie wailed, “I fuhgot my wosary!” A full-blown catastrophe threatened.
“That’s okay baby cakes,” I hollored to the back of the van (it’s noisy in-between), “You can use your fingers! You’ve got ten and that’s just the number of hail Mary’s!’
Then I heard her, quietly, counting to herself.
“One. . . two . . . three-four-five. . .six . . . seven. . . eight , nine, TEN!”
“Hey mom, you’re right! I DO have ten finguhs! It’s okay!”
Classic.
We finished our rosary no problem, missing beads and all.
