Gift of God

God of mercy, you chose

a tax collector, Saint Matthew, to share the dignity of the apostles.

By his example and prayers help us to follow Christ and remain faitherful in

your service. We ask this through Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with

you for ever and ever. Amen.

I celebrated the feast of St Matthew the Apostle by sleeping in. As un-celebration-like as this may sound, sleeping in has suddenly become a true treat and something I don't expect to do very often. Besides, I had more of a proper celebration later in the evening; after getting the kids to bed, I was treated to an extremely chocolatey and delicious dessert. Judging by the past two houses I've stayed at, I think I have exactly no grounds by which to hold my previous (while in MI) position as dessert-maker when attending any sort of out-of-home gathering. This is particularly sad as it gives me fewer opportunities to lick the sugary goodness off the baking utensils and finish off the leftovers, and even worse when considering that my family's Christmas chocolates were famous all over the Ann Arbor area and parts of Grand Rapids. However, it is not so sad when considering that I will be surrounded with excellent desserts in TX as well as at home (for I will always hold that my mom is one of the best cooks ever born, and she loves making chocolates, cookies, cakes, and all types of treats).

I have accomplished many firsts in the past couple weeks. First time ever doing anyone else's hair, first time brushing anyone's teeth but my own, first time chopping lettuce and mushrooms. I realized once more how grateful I am that I learned to read music - and I realized it most clearly after making it into chamber choir the next semester - but realized it once more when requested to sing vaguely recognized songs as lullabies with only a piano book and a tiny bit of light as an aid. My particular favorite: first time lying in bed with a small child who wants to snuggle while falling asleep. Had I been in my own bed, and not had the remains of dinner scattered over the counters and table downstairs to clean up still, I would have gladly fallen asleep there and counted it among the sweetest nights ever spent. And can someone remind me, now, why I will be forced to find a real job, rather than remain in this bliss?