Holy #*%@!

On Saturday my husband and I once again threw caution to the wind (and common sense out the window - yes again to that too!) and brought the R.A. to church.  Sleep deprivation is responsible for either making us very brave or even stupider than most people credit us for.  The smart money is on the second option.  I also thought it's Lent which is all about suffering. So making the other parishioners suffer through Mass with us was really a service.  I'm sure if we had lived during the time of Ignatius of Loyola, enduring us would be part of his spiritual exercises. On second thought, it's probably a blessing that we were not his contemporaries as only we would break a Jesuit.  You're welcome, Roman Catholic Church!

If you recall from past postings the R.A. was no saint in church, at least not in the way we earthlings think of saints.  Probably on the home planet his behavior was considered quite pious.  Once his actions started causing my husband and me to have involuntary tics, the R.A. was placed on church sabbatical.

I am a person of faith.  This is evidenced by my very active prayer life:

• My God!  What has he done now?
• Christ on a cross!  Get down from there!
• Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!  Is anything broken?
• Suffering Mother of Jesus pray for me!  Is it the entire container of sun block? And no, pointing out that now he won't need sun block for the next 3 months is not funny!

With the way my life is, I seem to be naturally drawn to call on Heavenly assistance quite frequently.  I wouldn't be surprised if sometimes they put me on mute.  I don't blame them.

In addition to my incessant spontaneous prayers I also have some favorite formal invocations.  They are quite beautiful and inspiring:

• St. Patrick: Christ be with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me. Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me.
• St. Ignatius Loyola: Lord Jesus, teach me to be generous; teach me to serve you as you deserve, to give and not count the cost, to fight and not heed the wounds.
• St. Augustine: O, Father, light up the small duties of this day's life: may they shine with the beauty of your countenance.
• St. Richard of Chichester: Thank you Lord Jesus Christ for the all the benefits and blessings which you have given me, for all the pain and insults which you have borne for me...
• Me: Dear God, please don't let the R.A. act too crazy during Mass!

Okay, that last one isn't particularly pretty or inspiring and my prayer won't be included in a book of devotions but it was answered because the R.A. did not act too crazy during Mass.  Now mind you, my interpretation of "not too crazy" is relative - meaning the R.A. did not bolt down the aisle while yowling in hysterics; he did not serenade us with a curse word ditty; he did not attempt to climb any of the stained glass windows; he did not lob his juice cup at an unsuspecting parishioner, lector, Eucharistic minister, altar server, pastor, or even a family member.  What the R.A. did do was to sit in the pew, rocking and waving his hands.  He occasionally cried out but he sounded pleased and wore an amused expression.  This expression clearly read, "Oh, these simple and primitive Earthlings with their quaint and backward beliefs!"  It's the same expression visitors wear when touring Shaker museums.
No doubt the R.A. was comparing our religious service with that on his home planet.  Based on the R.A.'s devotion to the small Eiffel Tower souvenir in our kitchen, I imagine that the focal point in his house of worship would be a large tower in the middle of the room.  I envision services for the Kitchen God to be far more rigorous than ours,  requiring much climbing and hanging.  No doubt instead of kneeling they teeter on the edge of the tower on tippy toes.  I propose that the services are extremely loud between the tossing and clanging of sacred objects and the cacophonous caterwauling of the congregation not to mention the caterwauling choir.  I wonder if instead of exchanging a sign of peace they energetically chin each other.  Perhaps they chin until one "chinee" tips over and the "chinee" still standing receives a special blessing from the Kitchen God. 
"This service is over.  Go now and chin in fury."

"Thanks be to the Kitchen God."