With my apologies to George Herbert, who no doubt did not pause in the midst of his pastoral rounds to shop:
Three-mile walk in the cemetery, first thing. Too humid for later in the day.
A noon visit to Famous Giant Hospital, where one of my parishoners has spent the last several days. A little bit of improvement and extended family here ~ positives for him and his parents.
Famous Giant Hospital has shops. I bought a dress for The Lovely Daughter. (Are you reading this? I hope you like it!)
Stopped at a friend's; she is doing the 60-mile three-day Komen Walk this fall, and her daughter is supporting her by walking one of the days with her and ~ today ~ with a cupcake sale. Excellent cupcakes.
Decided that I needed to inhale a little worship sustenance myself, so went to late afternoon mass at Jesuit Church. I have not been there in months, not since one of the priests used the Wedding at Cana narrative to preach about marriage-between-one-man-and-one-woman and then infuriated me further by telling a couple of stories that pushed all my parenting buttons inside-out. Today another priest, whose sermons I very much like, was celebrating the mass and the music was, as always, gorgeous. The soprano cantors at that church are incredible. Then Cana priest materialized to assist with communion, and scowled through the whole thing (at least as long as I stayed) as he dropped hosts in peoples' hands as if he were discarding them. The hosts, not the people, although it felt like the same thing. Kind of defeated the intent of the sermon about our calling to spread the love and peace of Jesus Christ.
Drove down to Small Church Town, stopping at one hospital (parishioner discharged earlier) and two rehab facilities. Discharged Parishioner laughing with sister and 90-year-old mother who had simply refused to leave the hospital last night. Extremely cool lady. Watched some Jeopardy with another man and his daughter, and took note of the much-improved appearance of yet another.
Before settling in for the night, stopped at house across the green, where a church neighbor is looking for help with the funeral of her brother, killed out of state last week. He may have been the victim of an accident or he may have been murdered, and it is likely that the case will remain unsolved. She has been tossed into a world populated by detectives, funeral home directors, and church people, none of whom she knows anything about, all as she grieves the loss of one of her very few living relatives. She is astonished and grateful for any help coming her way; it was heartbreaking to see her gratitude at having church funeral services explained to her. The local funeral home director has pushed for a graveside service, but I did everything I could to persuade her to think about coming to the church instead. We'll see what the brother's complicated extended family decides. This will be my second funeral in the last several weeks for someone I'd never heard of until after the death.
I am going to go to bed and read something challenging like People magazine.
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