Blessed Are The Frazzled
I can state without hestitation
That Mass is supposed to be
A time of quiet and meditation
On our Faith and its mysteries
But there is no reflection and quiet
When accompanied by my family
At worst, it is more like a riot
Mass does not seem planned for me
The choir has rehearesed for hours
Music to inspire lofty thoughts
But alas they do not have the power
To stop the squabbling of my tots
No lofty thoughts can be inspired
While I'm busy as a referee
Instead, I think of how I'm tired
Of "Mommy, she stuck her tongue out at me"
The priest, a very learned man
Has prepared an erudite homily
I always listen when I can
But someone says, "I have to pee"
It's beyond my powers of concentration
To follow the reading and the prayers
I feel a builiding sense of frustration
That somehow this really isn't fair
I'm doing my best to do my duty
To raise a Christian family
But in the Mass, with all its beauty
Where is some support for me?
I have given up on concentration
"Children won't you please sit still"
By the time we reach the Consecration
"OK kids, its time to kneel"
I get in the Communion line
In a rather frazzled state
When the thought enters my mind
That I don't need to concentrate
Without my help, without my power
God is the One who transforms the bread
Even if I sit there an hour
Wihout hearing a word that has been said
Christ Himself enters my soul
And I am transformed by hope
The Love of God makes me whole
Gives me strength to help me cope
The Mass is for me, after all
Not just prepared for others
Though I misss out on the preaching and singing and all
Communion is for mothers.
(Author Jayne K.)
I can state without hestitation
That Mass is supposed to be
A time of quiet and meditation
On our Faith and its mysteries
But there is no reflection and quiet
When accompanied by my family
At worst, it is more like a riot
Mass does not seem planned for me
The choir has rehearesed for hours
Music to inspire lofty thoughts
But alas they do not have the power
To stop the squabbling of my tots
No lofty thoughts can be inspired
While I'm busy as a referee
Instead, I think of how I'm tired
Of "Mommy, she stuck her tongue out at me"
The priest, a very learned man
Has prepared an erudite homily
I always listen when I can
But someone says, "I have to pee"
It's beyond my powers of concentration
To follow the reading and the prayers
I feel a builiding sense of frustration
That somehow this really isn't fair
I'm doing my best to do my duty
To raise a Christian family
But in the Mass, with all its beauty
Where is some support for me?
I have given up on concentration
"Children won't you please sit still"
By the time we reach the Consecration
"OK kids, its time to kneel"
I get in the Communion line
In a rather frazzled state
When the thought enters my mind
That I don't need to concentrate
Without my help, without my power
God is the One who transforms the bread
Even if I sit there an hour
Wihout hearing a word that has been said
Christ Himself enters my soul
And I am transformed by hope
The Love of God makes me whole
Gives me strength to help me cope
The Mass is for me, after all
Not just prepared for others
Though I misss out on the preaching and singing and all
Communion is for mothers.
(Author Jayne K.)
2 comments:
We are planning some special Masses this Advent season, geared towards families of young children, hoping to get them out of the dreaded "cry room". This poem is perfect! Could you please find out from the author if we could use it, perhaps as just a little handout to the moms and dads? Thank you!
Peace, Katie in West Chester, PA
Katie:
Sorry to be so long in responding! The author has given premission to share the poem where we think it can help!
She gave permission to publishit with her name
Email me at mum2twelve (at) gmail.com and I can give you more information.
Blessings
mum2twelve aka Christi
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