The Clock is Ticking

The clock is ticking loudly as I type. We're at T-minus 37 hours and counting until we board the first plane to Rome.

Surprisingly, I've got everyone pretty much packed, laundry done, and errands run. I find this hard to believe myself but I was determined not to be rushing around at the last minute. I really wanted my last day with the boys to be peaceful and fun instead of me saying, "Wait just one more minute while I finish..."

This morning I took Nelson's 7 a.m. Adoration. He's been working so much he's hardly seen the boys this week and he wanted to spend the morning with them. I was happy to oblige.

I worried my way to the chapel. I wondered what was wrong with me. I never used to get like this before traveling. What changed? Children. There's just something about being on a different continent than two of my babies that makes me a little crazy. It's not the kind of worry that they won't be okay. It's the kind of worry that if the plane goes down, they won't remember me. I want to be the one to raise my children.

I tried to calm myself in Adoration. I listed what I know. I know I'm supposed to be making this trip. I know after much prayer and discernment that the boys are supposed to stay home (think a 3 1/2 hour ordination in St. Peter's with no nursery, cry room or bathroom - think formal dinners and church tours). I know that if it's my time to go, it doesn't matter if I'm flying over the ocean or driving down my own street. I also know that God knows all of this and He will take care of all of us.

Faith is a beautiful thing. Prayer is so powerful.

I can't wait to see Aaron. I can't wait to see St. Peter's with Nelson and Mackenzie. I can't wait to meet the Pope.

Well, a girl can dream can't she?