Dear Diary,
Father looked out over the pews and said, “Jesus began His public life by stepping into the water with sinners. He chose to lower Himself. That is the model for us.” His voice was calm, but something in it stirred me deep inside.
For breakfast—Omelette laid me another double yolk egg, God bless her—I decided to carry her down to the cave. I think she rather enjoys the ride in my arms. Mini followed along with the funniest look on her face, like she couldn’t figure out what sort of mission we were on. She kept close, ears high and nose low, sniffing everything twice.
We walked through the tall grass where the cottonwoods rise, their branches leaning together like old neighbors sharing news. Down by the grotto, I sat with Omelette on my lap, and Mini plopped into the shade beside us, panting gently. I read today’s meditation aloud, even though only the three of us were there. But I think Heaven listened.
It said that Jesus, in being baptized, merited grace for us. That we’re meant to be made new through humility. The line I circled in pencil was: “What are my sentiments with regard to humility?” I looked at Omelette when I read it, but she just blinked slowly and fluffed her feathers. Mini rolled in the grass like she had her own thoughts.
Now it’s evening, and the light is beginning to go gold at the edges of everything. I’m writing this from the little table. Mini is under the bed, only her nose poking out, one eye on me in case I try to sneak off without her. It's getting late and my rosary is on the sill waiting for me to pick it up before bed.
Lord, thank You for today—for Your quiet lessons, for the soft breeze through the cottonwoods, for the good example of Jesus in the Jordan.
Love, Kathy
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