Stretched

In the book, I mentioned my ever-present fear of public speaking. It rests with me always, and last weekend--as I spoke at the tail-end of seven Masses--was no exception.

But I knew it was something that I had to do as the one who wrote this book. There is no one else who could convey my thoughts or feelings. No one else could sufficiently evoke my emotion. No one else who could appropriately share our story.  And the fact that the parish was graciously allowing me any time to speak at all?  Wow. What an awesome experience that I'm incredibly grateful for.

And Daniel's story couldn't have come at a better time.  Because the gospel last weekend was all about loving God, and loving thy neighbor. 

In my heart, I wanted my message to be even BIGGER than the book. Of course, my upcoming book signing this weekend was in the line-up, along with our family's journey with Daniel, but I felt a need to address Orphan Sunday, too, and the fact that there are more than 147,000,000 orphans in the world. I wanted to provide an array of existing options to help (adoption, foster care, sponsorship, prayer).

At the end of it all, I was left feeling completely drained in every way--mentally, physically, and emotionally. 

So, I ponder--how is that possible when I spent almost all weekend with God?  In the presence of The Father, The Son, and The Holy Spirit?

Perhaps, at Saturday night's Mass, because Charlie woke up from his nap at the exact time I supposed to speak. He insisted that I hold him, which was fine, but his weight--combined with my nerves--did a number on me physically.

Perhaps it was because the only thing I ate all Sunday morning was a banana.

Perhaps it was because I forgot to bring a sweater all weekend, and the church was freezing.

Or maybe it was because my adrenaline was triggered approximately one hundred times in a 24-hour span.

All kidding aside, I know where my emptiness came from. Remember in the book when I wrote about how God stretches us sometimes?

Well, I do believe I'd been s-t-r-e-t-c-h-e-d again.

And it felt as if a wound had been ripped open--almost like we'd lost Daniel all over again. The grieving process is a long one, and I walked away feeling like I might need a break from the book.

But rest is a miracle cure, and because of Jesus' love for us, each day we are renewed. And given the strength to forge ahead. So after a couple of days, I do feel renewed! I also feel like the actual book signing this weekend might be the more relaxing part for me.

I am so grateful for our community at St. Vincent Ferrer. All of the priests and staff were so amazing, and supportive.  And the parishioners, as usual, were so kind.

As to whether any impact was made, I will share one story that made my whole experience complete.

After the final 5:30 Mass on Sunday, I was approached by a sweet, younger couple. They both had tears in their eyes and asked if I had five minutes to spare. We walked outside together, and they revealed that they are in the middle of an adoption process and were faced, last week, with a bump in the road that could cause a significant delay. Not only did this leave them questioning their choices about their path of adoption, but they also found themselves struggling to get to church that day. They wrestled back and forth with going to Mass on Sunday, but the Good Lord won, and they decided to show up.

And they heard my testimony.

Is there any doubt that the Holy Spirit sent them there to hear what they needed to hear? To comfort them and confirm that they're on the right path?  Not in my mind.

It just doesn't get any better than that...