So it's another Ash Wednesday and Lent is upon us. I'm giving up sleep. The truth is, I haven't slept a full 8 hours since July of 1988, but that's another story.
We were up, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for mass at 6:45 this morning (which means I was up at 5:30). The teens asked our pastor for an early mass, and not only did he agree, but every Wednesday during Lent there will be an early bird mass, followed by a pancake breakfast for the teens. Hmmm. A little appeasement? I think so.
Anyway, there was a packed house, which is a good thing, and a lot of teens went, which is also a very good thing. I hope they keep it up. I know we've made the commitment to do it.
Our new priest, assigned until June, was there, too, and if you know about our woes not having an associate for the past year, you know this is a good thing, too, even if it is temporary.
He's a Father-What-a-Waste--nice looking bloke, and was distributing ashes as if he had a crate to get rid of; consequently I have the kind of gigantic cross on my forehead that I would have appreciated as a child, but considering today's reading and the exhortation to fast in private, kind of an attention-getting billboard on my face. Whatever, I'm so twitchy that it'll rub off throughout the day.
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