Happy Birthday Grace Anne - some day in March

Life has been a roller coaster lately, but I know the underlying reason for most of the emotional mess I've been in. This month would most likely have been the month Grace would have been born. It's also the month of my own birthday and also of my first living child. The stars align as they say, or collide. It's a scary ride and just like a roller coaster, the ride isn't better if you close your eyes. In fact, closing your eyes can make it feel worse. It also probably doesn't help that this month always falls within Lent - at least not presently when my soul seems tender and the scabs are too tempting to resist picking at.

Today was a better day than last week though. I kept busy, we got some things accomplished around the house, I got to confession, and hopefully we'll all make it to Mass tomorrow. The hard part is now when the house is quiet, I'm two glasses in to a bottle of red, and only the dog to talk to. That's okay. She is good company and a good listener. The next few days will be difficult as dear hubby is busy with work 24-7 and I'll be on my own for a few days.

For now, happy birthday Grace, and I'm sorry.

Have mercy on me, God, in your goodness
in your abundant compassion
blot out my offense.
Wash away all my guilt;
from my sin cleanse me.

For I know my offense;
my sin is always before me.
Against you alone have I sinned;
I have done such evil in your sight
That you are just in your sentence,
blameless when you condemn.
True, I was born guilty,
a sinner, even as my mother conceived me.
Still, you insist on sincerity of heart;
in my inmost being teach me wisdom.

Cleanse me with hyssop, that I may be pure;
wash me, make me whiter than snow.
Let me hear sounds of joy and gladness;
let the bones you have crushed rejoice.
Turn away your face from my sins;
blot out all my guilt.

A clean heart create for me, God;
renew in me a steadfast spirit.
Do not drive me from your presence,
nor take from me your holy spirit.
Restore my joy in your salvation;
sustain in me a willing spirit.

I will teach the wicked your ways,
that sinners may return to you.
Rescue me from death, God, my saving God,
that my tongue may praise your healing power.
Lord, open my lips;
my mouth will proclaim your praise.
For you do not desire sacrifice;
a burnt offering you would not accept.
My sacrifice, God, is a broken spirit;
God, do not spurn a broken, humbled heart.