When I was a kid, all I wanted was to be like everybody else.  I wanted a normal family life with a dad who came every night for dinner and dress clothes we bought at the store.  I wanted to watch Happy Days, wear jeans and have long hair.  Alas, it was not to be.  My dad was a waiter, sometimes with 3 jobs and we had family dinner Saturday afternoon before he went in for the dinner shift.  My grandmother made all of my and my sister’s dress clothes, often matching, well beyond it being cute:).  My mother refused to let us have long hair, our bedtime was before Happy Days ever came on and I had jeans when I finally bought them for myself.
Now, I no longer want to be like everyone else.  I want to be different, noticed, someone who makes a big contribution to the world, probably in the area of catholic teaching or pastoral ministry.  Yes, I know I am special to my family and friends and my children are a wonderful contribution to the world (no, they don’t read this, but really, they are wonderful) I know I have served in the Church many years and helped guide others to a deeper faith, both children and adults.
But I am prideful and slightly greedy and envious.  There. it. is. the truth. What brought this on?
I saw a book today written by two people I know, I had to look twice, and then I said, “really, they wrote a book about that?”  Why can’t I write a book?  Why don’t I write a book?
Then I wondered, I read many, many books but rarely do I know the author personally or have worked with them in some capacity.  I “know” them from afar.  Maybe their colleagues, past or present think the same thing I thought, “Really, a book, them?”
This is less about writing a book and more about learning to live the life I have now, in the present.  Which, if I were to give you a verbal snapshot, you’d seen I really have nothing to complain about.  So many lessons yet to learn, so many ways to grow towards God.

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