Sunday, April 15, 2007

Driving Lessons

Our second son has reached an important rite of passage...learning to drive. He had been reluctant to take on this responsibility. I suspect that the reticence stems from watching his older brother be given the onerous task of being assistant family chauffeur, his life inevitably put on hold for the good of others. It's a lesson we all have to learn, and for mothers, it's the story of our calling...our life is not our own.

So, this past week during Easter holiday, we enrolled Son-Number-Two in driving school, telling him he couldn't put off the inevitable. His reluctance surprised me because this is the child who fearlessly skis down black diamond slopes, who took to sailing solo as naturally as breathing, who rock-climbs as well as he walks on flat ground, who plays a mean game of street hockey. I think he's dealing with what driving symbolizes--moving into grown-up territory. And that can sometimes be unnerving even to the most fearless of us.

Today on Quasimodo Sunday, especially for RCIA, I think of our neophytes who are learning to grow into the Catholic driving lessons, must take things at a reasonable pace. Learning to live out the sacramental life takes time. One was lamenting how in the world he could ever learn all the responses. I told him that we'll all be disoriented right along with him when the new Mass translations come out.

This morning, in spite of the Easter holiday and the torrential rain, some came to mystagogia. Their bright faces revealing an eagerness to share their Easter Vigil stories. There was solemn remembrance mixed in with laughter. The heartaches continue for this class as we received more bad news for several members. This has been the way with this class--a piling on of real life's dark valleys. But now, now, they have the Body and Blood of Christ. No longer will they have to step aside to let others pass. May the Body and Blood of Christ sustain them and strengthen them in their hours of testing.


Tom Reagan said...

I am the world's worst driver. If I actually blogged on it, I might set a record for comments from my friends (who would all say that saying I am the worst is an underestimation of how bad I am...not sure how that's possible, but still).

Argent said...

Really? You seem to have left the Triangle Area standing. Did I tell you I knocked down a neighbor's mailbox one night? I was in the convertible...and short as I am I couldn't see through the teeny little back window. I thought I heard a thump.

My neighbor was very gracious and said that he'd wanted to put up a new one anyway. LOLOLOL! We're still friends.