Mary's Question

January 21st

Dear Diary

 

This morning, the thermometer showed minus 15 degrees. The cold seeped into everything, even the walls of the house. Robert was supposed to take us to church today, but he called to say his pickup wouldn’t start in this bitter weather. The world felt utterly still, as if the cold had paused everything.

Chores were difficult in this frigid air. I made quick trips to the chicken house to check on the hens and gather eggs, but even the chickens seemed subdued. Mini’s little walks were brief—just enough for her to stretch her legs before scurrying back inside. Omelette, as usual, was brought indoors for warmth. She seemed perfectly at home on her little broomstick roost and nest near the fireplace, clucking softly as the fire crackled.

This afternoon, I turned to the meditation for January 21st. It was centered on Mary’s question to Jesus: “Son, why hast Thou done so to us?” I imagined her searching for Him, her heart heavy with sorrow and worry, only to find Him in the Temple, calmly about His Father’s work. Her question wasn’t a rebuke but a mother’s tender plea, seeking to understand.

I reflected on how Mary kept these things in her heart, pondering them with trust and humility, even when the answers weren’t clear. How often do I feel the same—unsure of God’s plan, holding questions and worries in my heart? The meditation reminded me that, like Mary, I must bring these to Him, trusting in His timing and purpose.

The phrase “I must be about my Father’s business” lingered with me. It feels like a call to focus on what truly matters—loving God, serving others, and finding joy in the small duties He’s given me, even on days like today when everything feels harder.

The day ended quietly. After our evening prayer, I offered thanksgiving for the warmth of the fire, for Mini and Omelette’s company, and for the peace of God’s word.

We made hot chocolate before bed—two cups of milk warmed with a heaping spoonful of cocoa powder and sugar, stirred until smooth, with a pinch of salt for flavor. The warmth of the cup in my hands felt like a blessing on such a cold day.

Goodnight, dear diary. Tomorrow, I will try again to be about my Father’s business, trusting as Mary did.