When I was working in an office, the constant refrain at the end of every work week was, "Thank goodness, it's Friday!" Being of a rather cynical bent, in those days, I'd quip, "Yeah, but it's only two days until Monday!" This would be met with groans and laughter. Over the years, however, I come to greet Monday mornings with a lot more respect and joy. Reaching Monday means we are given another chance to have a productive week, another chance to do something for our family, another chance to remember to be thankful that we are here to be part of Monday.
Being a mother, Mondays sort of map out my week. I see five days stretching in front of me and, hopefully, they will be filled with accomplishments. I see five days of chances to improve my meal planning. There are five afternoons of sewing. Morning Mass can happen five more times. Although I do plan out we week basically, I tend to dwell on the moment at hand. I try to stop dreading what is ahead and just get today done as well as possible. Believe me, I'm not a saint and there will be many pitfalls along the way but Mondays give me hope. And, if I'm accepting of God's blessings, I can pray that next Monday I will have another chance to see the beginning of the work week loom before me filled with promise.
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