Two sick kids with fevers and vomiting. I'm so tired I can barely function. I'm coming down with it too, and the coffee is the only thing keeping me going until my husband gets back with some sinus drugs.
If I was pregnant, I'd be dead in the water right now, unable to take ANYTHING.
But I still would rather be pregnant.
Today's reading was the Luke's account of the Annunciation, btw. One of my favorites. Even better in the Latin. I read the readings at home and watched some of Mass on TV-- feverish kids can't go to church-- they might spread their germs and kill someone's grandma!
The Anchoress had a link to a homily on Mary's question of "How can this be?" and how we meet so many things in life with disbelief.
I think, with Paul, I'm still stuck at "How can this be?" This was the first pregnancy where I WASN'T afraid I'd miscarry. After all, the last 3 were easy, so this one would be too.
And sometimes it irks me that an unknowing God gives babies not meant to live more than a few weeks to Moms who would happily raise them forever, and babies who could have lived a full life to Moms who kill them in utero.
But I know it's all about opportunities for grace, in the end. I had a boss once who'd been a teen mother (she was a 20-something mother when I knew her.) She's been alone and scared when she found out about her son, everyone tried to persuade her that an abortion would be best.
When I knew her, she said he was the best thing that had ever happened to her, and that it still bothered her that some people treated this amazing little boy like he'd been some sort of a mistake.
Sometimes, sappy Sunday school posters are right. God doesn't make mistakes. But people can.
(Oh, also at The Anchoress's blog (no link today, sorry, computer issues so I can barely type) she has a great quote from Penn of Penn and Teller. Penn wonders how much you must hate someone, if you really believe there's a possibility for eternal life, but don't let them know about it, for fear of offending.
I see where he's coming from. If you're about to cross a railroad track, and I see a train coming through the fog and don't tell you, aren't I just condemning you to death? Even if you might be offended that I interrupted your walk, isn't it my duty to say "Watch out for the Train!??!?!?!"
Watch out for the Train, folks. I don't want you to get hit.
Anyway, sorry to ramble. Sinuses and insufficient sleep combine in odd ways sometimes...