February 22: Let Them Eat Cake

Okay, so I really didn't do anything special today.  I worked.  I taught.  I ate.  Later on, I'll eat.  I'll work.  I'll sleep.  I had every intention of accomplishing a lot today.  I was going to finish grading some essays.  I was going to write a lengthy blog post.  I was going to finish reading The Help for my book club on Thursday.

What did I actually end up doing?  I worked. I taught....

I wonder if a saint ever feels this way.  I wonder if a saint gets up in the morning and says, "Here we go again.  I pray.  I levitate.  I heal a leper.  I pray.  I fast.  I eat communion.  I pray.  I pray.  I bi-locate.  I sleep.  Same old stuff."  Probably not.

My coworker's cake

 A coworker brought a cake to work today.  It was delicious.  Funfetti.  I wasn't going to eat a piece, but then I just cut a sliver of it and crammed it into my mouth.  I went away.  Then I came back and cut another sliver, since the first one was so small.  I went away.  A little while later, I returned for another sliver.  You get the idea.

I imagine, for saints, doing God's work is sort of like that.  You just keep coming back for more, because it tastes so freakin' good.  And the best thing?  The cake never runs out.

Saint Marty's going to check the kitchen to see if there's any cake left.  With my luck, the saints I work with probably polished it off.