I awoke this morning feeling too weary to embrace my cross for another day.  I did not think I had the strength to joyfully embrace pregnancy discomfort and the difficulties of mothering active twin-toddler-boys.  I wanted to go back to sleep and sleep and sleep and sleep.  Surely, this cross was too heavy today.

My sweet crosses at our neighborhood Independence Day parade

To cheer myself, I decided to listen to “Mysteries“, a compilation of songs by my dear friend, Danielle Skorich, who is now Sister Rose Therese of the Disciples of Our Lord Jesus Christ.  The first song came on and, it was not what I wanted to hear.  The words of “True Love” were not a comfort, as Danielle’s lovely voice sang, “I am willing to lay down my very life.  I do not fear sacrifice.”

I loved that song during my years at Notre Dame; the words seemed to give voice to my heart and express my deepest longings.  I was eager to lay down my life.  I did feel full of love and wanted to make my life something beautiful for God.  I had no idea then what I was really saying, no idea how dearly I held my life and how piercingly painful would be its laying down.  I had no idea what a daily hidden grind is sacrifice and how unglamorous is faithful cross-carrying, day after long day.

And, then, it struck me.  That is the weight of freedom.  We have the freedom to choose that which will make us most truly happy, that which is God whose will is our peace.  This is no easy road.  Saying to God “Do with me what you will” means that we will be crucified, and yet we know that we have nowhere else to go because no one else has the words of everlasting life.  We do not know what lies in store when we pledge our wedding vows, yet with trembling voices we assent to the unseen years ahead.  We do not know what will happen when we say yes to the gift of a new life, and sometimes when we are awake with crying baby at 3am, we wonder if our yes was really the prudent thing to say.

Our freedom seems too much sometimes, too dangerous a gift for mere mortals who do not know that they are walking where angels fear to tread.  Saying this, of course, my thoughts turn to our nation, whose freedom we celebrate today.  Our founders won for us freedom from foreign rule so that we might pursue that which is good and noble. 

That freedom is a heavy responsibility and one that can never rest too lightly in our hands.  We are ever on the brink of making the wrong choice; as Father John Courtney Murray so eloquently writes in “We Hold These Truths”, the barbarians are always at the door.

If the barbarians are always at the door for our nation, they are also always at my door, threatening to steal my freedom and destroy my capacity to choose my true good.  While I feel weary today of my mundance discomforts, they are really my glorious crown of freedom.  I have chosen to marry and chosen to be a mother, and I only cease to be free when I reject those in favor of shallow and fleeting pleasures.  My cross is my glory and the only sure path to heaven.  So, today I will sing with dear Danielle, “I want my life to be beautiful.  I want to be who You’ve made me to be.  Only the cross reveals true love, the cross reveals true beauty.”