Of Missing Mass, Migraines and Offerings

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So yesterday was entirely too much fun.  When I typed out that last entry, my mind was still sorta blurry from the residual morphine they'd given me.  I didn't feel as though I had the time or ability to properly express my weeble-wobble feelings. 

I held off taking a full dose of percoset so I could properly write out my thoughts without feeling like I was attempting to swim through mud.  Here goes nothin', right?

I had to miss Mass yesterday.  Part of me realized I had a legit reason for doing so, but another part of me kept thinking, "If I'm able to sit half dazed through an episode or two of Lie to Me (great show, BTW), I should be able to sit through a Mass."

Of course, that brings up the problem of who would've taken me?  Surely not John.  He might've had I not been visibly ill.  But with me sick, he'd've probably gotten highly irritated at my stubborness.  I don't really know anyone else who would've been able (or willing) to take me, and I couldn't exactly drive there myself.  So I realize that the obligation wasn't really "on me" this weekend.  That, however, didn't stop me from missing Mass.  I felt like I had misplaced something all day.  It wasn't just the drugs talking, either.  My heart simply knew it had missed out on something awesome, and there was nothing I could do to fix it right away.  The best I could muster was a Spiritual Communion, but I felt that fell short due to my lack of brain capacity.  I didn't feel as though I could focus properly, so even that was lackluster.

Even my prayers last night... I didn't pray the Rosary at all.  I basically apologized to the Blessed Mother and said, "Look, I'll add this to the last three I haven't been able to pray properly, okay?"  I did give the Divine Mercy chaplet a go, because I thought, even during Jesus' Passion, I doubt He ever said to God the Father, "Look, I'm really not feeling with it today... mind if I just talk to You another time or something?"

So I said the Divine Mercy chaplet.  I wouldn't go so far as to say that I prayed it, because I recited it more than focused on what I was actually saying.  I felt bad about it, but I added, "Jesus, go ahead and do what You will with this.  It's not much, but You don't really need much to do great things, do You?"

I dunno - what does anyone else do in these situations?  I get that we can offer up whatever situation we're in, but... I dunno.  Maybe I'm just so used to my routine that the praying has stopped being about God and more about my expectations?  That's not a very good thought, but considering how I've reacted these last couple days to the lack of "proper prayers," maybe that's what God wants to shake into me. 

Maybe I focus / rely so much on those "routine prayers" that I miss all the other opportunities to offer things up, too.  I don't remember which saint it was, but when she was little, she and her sister would have to share a Sunday dress.  That meant only one of them could go to Mass, and they'd swap every other Sunday.  The saint would offer up missing Mass for whatever intentions she had, since missing Mass was, in fact, a sacrifice for her. 

Little Francisco (of Fatima fame) was unable to say the Rosary on his death bed.  He begged Jacinta and Lucia to say it aloud so he could at least hear it.  I bet he offered up his inability to pray with them for something.

Even Jacinta - while she was super sick, she could barely eat.  She would refuse all sorts of broth until Lucia reminded her to offer up the nausea and pain for souls in Purgatory.  Jacinta never gave her mother a problem again and offered even that up for the souls in Purgatory.

So really - who am I to be sitting here whining and complaining that I couldn't attend Mass?  Or feeling guilty for not saying all of my prayers properly?  Geez... typing really can be therapeutic, 'cause I feel like a jerk now.  Instead of being happy that I've got something to really offer up, I'm being all sulky about it because it detracts from my typical offering. 

Alrighty, God.  You win.  I'm sorry for being a sulky little wimp.  You can take my disfigured face, my gross and smelly jaw, and my blurry little mind and use it for whatever You see fit.  :)  Far be it from me to question Your ideas again.  :)

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