Anything But Ordinary


I actually managed to pick up my Liturgy of the Hours book today and do morning prayer. I’ve been horrible about getting in my much-needed prayer time during these last few weeks… and the excuse isn’t the newborn. Finding time to pray is actually quite easy when you’re tied down to a chair for 15-20 minutes a dozen times per day, but making the time is the difficult part. I find it’s much easier to devote 15 minutes to a Rosary when they are a stolen 15 minutes in-between lunch and work and dishes. When I have a lot of time, it’s harder to convince myself that I should use this particular 15 minutes for my prayer.

I digress.

What I wanted to jot down is the feeling I had when I opened up my prayer book to Week I of Ordinary Time. Ordinary. No special antiphons or hymns. Just back to the numbered, green weeks that form the backbone of the liturgical year. And I have to admit that after such a chaotic, intense Advent and the hustle and bustle of having a baby born on Christmas Day, then his baptism celebrated on the Baptism of the Lord… it was kind of nice to sit down with my cup of coffee this Friday morning and feel the comfortable slide back into “ordinary” time in this new chapter of my “ordinary” life.


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