(and Letting Go of Little Luxuries)
March 20, Feast of St. Photina, the Samaritan woman whom Our Lord met at the well. Her name means "resplendent" or "shining with light."
Here's my green and gold. I've had such a great quantity of these treasured things, though I don't know if you could call it having, except maybe in that mystical way, that because they are my Father's they are mine. I feel like they're mine, anyhow. I feel so very wealthy for daffodils. I'd like to plant some in the indoors or in the back garden.
We have very little money right now, as I am not allowed to work in the UK as a visitor and my husband is on meager disability allowance. Every little purchase has to be carefully monitored. I thought this morning as I was walking to Mass that it would be nice to have cushions in my flat-soled shoes . . . and that the floor in the kitchen was awfully cold, and wouldn't a rug be cozy? A cheap utility rug and some discount insoles at the local Aldi won't break the bank. Then the Holy Spirit graciously ordered my discomfort to the good. Instead of going to the store and buying the things I immediately thought of to make my life a bit more comfortable, I offered my minor discomforts up at Mass and will continually for the Lenten season. And maybe by then, I'll decide I don't want-need them after all.
They're such little things, after all; we're so spoiled as a society for an abundance of possessions; and the possessions we can't pay for are exactly the ones we ought to.
“Oscar Wilde said that sunsets were not valued because we could not pay for sunsets. But Oscar Wilde was wrong; we can pay for sunsets. We can pay for them by not being Oscar Wilde.”--G.K. Chesterton
Theme Thursday is hosted at Clan Donaldson.