Donuts in the Desert

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I went looking for Holy Water to take home today after Mass. I couldn't find any at all. I asked in the sacristy and they told me that holy water will not be available until the Easter Vigil. They said it's supposed to be like the desert. I returned to the parish hall where my children were enjoying post-Mass donuts and juice. I told them about the holy water, since I'd never heard this was a Catholic custom. Christian listened to my tale and replied, "Well, I'm glad they kept their heads and allowed donuts and coffee in the desert." Indeed, no holy water, but plenty of donuts. Apparently, someone is confused.  Father Z makes the case that we're not supposed to abstain from sacraments and sacramentals. (HT: Rebecca)

I'm sure I will find Holy Water at a different church and I'll use it after we're finished with the Holy Week cleaning that is integral to Catholic homemaking. We clean, we shine, we bless as we go. It's still Lent. There is still time. We still need to be washed clean. Father Mark writes:

God has put at our disposal everything we need to recover our baptismal innocence and to become again like little children. Frequent confession. Frequent use of Holy Water. Make use of the sacramental means given us by God and by the Church, and then trust Him to do all that we, of ourselves and by ourselves, cannot do. There is a verse in the hymn at Lauds during Lent that, I think, sums it all up:

The hidden wound whence flow our sins,
Wash clean by bathing in the tide;
Remove the things that, of ourselves,
We cannot reach, or put aside.


First Date

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Twenty-seven years ago, a high school sophomore got on a bus bound for Charlottesville. It was a two hour ride to the semifinals of the Virginia State High School Basketball Championships. She sat next to a very tall handsome baseball player who barely made the bus because spring training had begun. He'd gotten them tickets and so this counted as a first date. It was pretty much her first date ever. It wasn't very private. His best friend sat behind them and chaperoned. They went back again the next night to watch their high school team win it all. A few  years later, she'd begin to drive that trip again and again and again-- back and forth to Charlottesville to go to school and then to come home to see him. They'd walk the campus of UVa one weekend and GMU the next.  And then, they'd talk late into the night about whether to live here or there.  The backseat chaperone became the best man and then the godfather. It is poetic (sort of;-) to note that all these years later, they are still driving all over Virginia with a whole bunch of kids  pretty much every weekend to go to one tournament or another.
Honey, I'm in Herndon this afternoon for the U-9 scrimmage and you are at Bull Run for the pre-Jefferson Cup run-through. Maybe later, we can meet back here and have a date...