It’s been many years since I drove my kids daily to their Catholic school in Anchorage, Alaska.
Every mom — and everyone who was ever a kid — remembers the occasional chaos of school mornings, grabbing breakfast, homework, lunch bags, negotiating who gets the bathroom next.
Meanwhile, my son amuses his sisters by singing, repeatedly: “If you’re dancin’ with your honey, and her nose is kind of runny, you might think it’s kind of funny, but it’s S’NOT.”
That little earworm might induce a chuckle, but once you’re in the car, you’re ready for something else.
“Time for our morning offering!” I announce, beginning the simple little prayer they learned at school.
“O Loving God, I give you this day. All that I think, and do, and say. I give you my love with Jesus your Son. I will try to be kind and love everyone.”
Those drives are long over, but that little prayer lingers, and during Lent I began using it as a daily mantra. It seems to encapsulate so much of what we need.
This is a tough time for our country and the world, for reasons I don’t have to articulate. We’ve all been living them. And we’re struggling to pray through them.
A prayer to Our Lady of the Way urges us to ask Mary to help us “to continue on in pursuit of a whole and just world, in pursuit of a whole and just self.”
That’s the dual challenge of prayer, isn’t it? How do we pursue both? How to stay informed and involved with what’s going on in our country and world, and at the same time remember prayer is a personal relationship with Jesus, meant to create within ourselves “a whole and just self.”
I continue the habit of saying that “simple” morning offering immediately upon waking. I offer a loving God my day and remind myself that much begins with the thoughts I entertain, “all that I think.” If I let angry thoughts into my head as I listen to the morning news, I know they will infect the rest of my day, what I do and also what I say.
Likewise, if I have silent, irritated thoughts about someone in my life — my spouse, a neighbor, a child, a boss, I may think I’m keeping anger to myself, but inside it perks along. Can I replace a thought with a prayer? Can I really try to “love everyone,” even my enemies, as Jesus said?
Even if I don’t vocalize my negative thoughts, God hears me. How about the crude remarks that sometimes darken my thoughts as I watch the evening news? Is that helping to create a just world, or a just self?
Imagine the angry thoughts that must provoke those who respond in such vicious ways on social media. And too often in our world today, violence follows social media’s vitriol.
As St. Ignatius suggests, give people the benefit of the doubt. In the world, we must be vocal about issues and injustice and we must take a stand. But let prayer guide our responses, not anger.
During Lent, I saw how that morning offering could influence relationships. It tempered my frustrations and hard feelings and helped me see through another’s eyes. The words would come back to me during the day — “all that I think” — and I would direct my thoughts to something more positive which influenced what I did and what I said.
It’s a short, yet profound morning offering. Easily remembered, too — just as easy as “dancin’ with your honey” and a whole lot more enriching.
Effie Caldarola is a wife, mom and grandmother who received her master’s degree in pastoral studies from Seattle University.