This morning I got up, exercised, fed the dogs, made coffee, showered, dressed, and walked out to the door to make groceries. (I'm from the south, we make groceries.)
I live in the small town of Jackson, Wyoming. The locals here run into each other everywhere we go. The grocery is a place where people visit; it is a loud and joyful place, usually. This morning, few smiled, even less spoke, and the staff was curt in a way I was unaccustomed to experiencing. I fought back the tears realizing this thing was changing us into a people of fear.
Upon arriving home, I wiped down all two weeks worth of groceries. (If you haven't seen the viral video, Google: PSA Michigan Doctor clean groceries.) By the time I finished putting away the last of the groceries, I was done: physically, emotionally spent.
Then I turned on EWTN to pray with Pope Francis. At the sight of the Blessed Sacrament, I let my tears go. Comforted by the sight of our Lord and the familiar chanted Latin hymns, I knelt, I bowed my head, and I prayed. I prayed for those who are sick, those who are scared. I prayed for the helpers, the doctors, but also the man who usually smiles at me as he is stocking the produce.
Our Catholic faith reassures us. We know our Lord hears us, He sees us gathered as a church to ask for His mercies, His protection, but most of all, to thank Him for His presence. Today, He reminded me, life is exhausting, scary, unpredictable, and filled with suffering, but He is with us through it all. He is our joy, and that joy cannot be taken from us by fear of a bad economy or pandemics. #livinglent2