Blessings and Curses

The church that J and I attend has a pretty cool tradition that we like to call "Drive By Blessings". On the feast of the Epiphany (the day the Church celebrates as the day the Wise Men reached the baby Jesus)--January 6--our priest visits parishoners' homes and blesses each at their front door. As a part of the blessing, he marks the front door with the year and letters representative of the Wise Men (and also possibly an abbreviation for the latin translation of something like a blessing on all who enter).


I've been sick this week, fighting a sinus infection that landed me in bed for a couple days. Yesterday, I looked forward all day to our home blessing, sort of my one bright spot in a sea of fatigue and kleenex. When J arrived home at 7:00, I asked if he noticed anything on the door. He didn't. I sent him back outside to check again. Still nothing. Bright spot extinguished, I *may* have cursed the whole blessing process. A little. And maybe sent a smart aleck comment to the priest on Facebook. And then collapsed back into bed.


I woke up feeling a little better, and headed out to work. When I glanced back at the door, I found this--



Looks like the priest had a late night getting everyone in, and we were sufficiently blessed after all. I've heard it took the Wise Men into Jesus' toddlerhood before they reached him...maybe there's a lesson in patience there for me. Maybe sometimes, God has to speak up a little for me to hear Him.