Wednesday's child

Ash Wednesday is traditionally a day of prayerful reflection and repentance. It is above all, however, as all days of worship are, a day of praise of God for mercy.

The opening verses sung at Mass (for those who are using the official text, anyway, which probably only happens in Rome or at seminaries, monasteries and cathedrals) are taken from the book of Wisdom (a beautiful ancient Jewish text similar to Psalms and Proverbs but not included in Protestant Bibles):

You are merciful to all, because you can do all things and overlook the sins of men and women so that they can repent. Yes, you love all that exists, your hold nothing of what you have made in abhorrence, for had you hated anything, you would not have formed it. And how, had you not willed it, could a thing persist, how be conserved if not called forth by you?
Wisdom 11: 24-26

For me today has been mainly a day of waiting.

Because of the way scheduling is done for surgery and surgical procedures in Baraboo, I was not told when my procedure would be -- just that it would be tomorrow. So that means I have had to stay by the telephone pretty much all day waiting for the nurse to call and give me the actual time to show up at the hospital.

Add to that the four to five inches of snow that we got yesterday evening and overnight plus more snow off and off during the day and my cabin fever is raging. I may not be quite as bad as the cats -- who continue to tear around the house like a herd of elephants -- but I know I am not in the best of moods.

Tom, who is trying to be patient with this process, was waiting to hear about the schedule, too, because he will have to take me to the hospital and then be available at the hospital to hear the doctor's report and to bring me home. (They threaten to not do the colonoscopy if no one is there with you, although I am sure he can wander in and out a bit.) So that will tie him down for about three hours, and he was hoping to make it to one of his various meetings. He needed to know if that will be impossible so that he could notify the others if he wasn't going to be there.

A little before two, Kim called from St. Clare to go over the preparatory procedures again and tell me to check in at 9:55 a.m. Thursday morning. Even though it was still snowing, the worst of the storm is supposed to be over, so I guess they are not canceling anything. That means I will be back home in my own cozy little space cuddling with the cats by two and Tom will easily be able to make it to his meeting down in Spring Green.

The day has not been entirely wasted, of course. I wrote a letter to the newly elected Carmelite Provincial this morning. John Sullivan was Provincial before when I was Prior at Holy Hill, but I don't think any of the Dodds ever met him. Actually I wrote most of a letter to congratulate him on his election and to bring him up to date on my situation. I am waiting until Friday to complete it so I can include the results of my colonoscopy. (As far as the church is concerned, I am still a priest and a member of the Discalced Carmelites and that makes John my religious superior. Although they are not responsible for me in any way or I to them, as a courtesy I try to keep them informed.)

I also did my meditation and spent some time pondering an article that I am working on. I have ordered some books through interlibrary loan to help with this project, but nothing has come in yet. I am finding some good stuff on the internet, but when I am reading long texts (hundreds of pages), I'd rather do it with a book in hand.

I also sent out a brief article to another magazine for consideration. It feels good to send something out, even though most of them come back again ... Actually, I have a good record of getting my "inspirational" and more academic things published. Still no luck with fiction, though. As I told Fr. John in my letter, I think my storytelling skills are lacking.

I also did the important things -- cleaned out the litter boxes, fed the cats, petted the cats, talked to the cats, bowed down and worshiped the cats. (Well, not so much that last one, even though I know it would make their day.)

And, of course, there was the preparation stuff, but we won't talk about that. If the words "Go Lightly" mean nothing to you at this point in your life, be happy.