comfortable

Today's Blogtember: Friday, September 20: React to this term: comfort.


I'm not above admitting that my favorite place in my entire house is my bed while I'm sleeping soundly, uninterrupted by the sounds of children needing their basic needs met (gah, what next? a learjet?) with white noise blocking out any sounds of traffic or imagined burglers breaking into our house to kill us; preferable, but not necessary, is the presence of those needy children's quiet, precious, sleeping selves next to me, sandwiched between me and my quiet, loving, non-snoring husband - all of us warm and cozy under a fluffy freshly laundered (hence the well-deserved nap - pat, pat, back) blanket, warming us from the 40 degree weather that our super-efficient a/c is blowing out. 

I'm really low-maintenence, obv.

Motherhood is hard, but the view is great.

Now that, y'all, is comfortable. 

And sometimes it's what gets me through the day. When the thought of that doesn't, I go to my [over-use-but-fittingly-named] happy place. 

My soul is quieted when I'm struggling and I mentally place myself in a darkened chapel in front of a monstrance holding The Blessed Sacrament. If the moment permits, I'll quickly put my frustrations at His Feet (why, oh, why, do my children constantly need meals and dirty their clothes upon eating said food? is a big one. #firstworldproblems); if the moment doesn't allow, I just quiet myself for a few seconds and focus on Our Lord in The Blessed Sacrament. 

Even now, the sound of Gregorian Chant immeeeeediately calms me and puts my mind in the presence of Our Lord. I have an affinity for darkened churches (filled with people and altar servers and a priest because I'm not going to lie, an empty darkened church quickens my steps and makes my the grand champion of quick genuflecting) because of my love of Midnight Mass early Christmas morning, or Easter Vigil Mass, or even the different schedule of a celebrating a Holy Day of Obligation with attending an evening Mass. 

 It's a stretch, but it counts, y'all. h/t Kristin, again!

It stems from my childhood and still brings me immediate peace (a little less quiet peace as we're now toting two little souls into said very late Masses, but hey, there are many different ways to grow in holiness.).  When I hear Gregorian Chant, my soul is calmed and I can remember the smell of incense and the ringing of bells, especially the progression of bells during the Gloria on Easter Vigil. 

Needy children before Easter Vigil this year.

Christmas Evening Mass post-veil hair.

Those thoughts (they're really super quick whenever they happen) quiet down into the gentle comfort of one-on-one time with Our Lord in The Blessed Sacrament. And even though most of the time neither of us say anything, I see Him and He sees me and that's enough to comfort my soul.