There is a woman, nervous and disordered by nature who attends St Paul Shrine, I adore her spirituality. She never fails to make me smile. I know she has thirteen or fourteen children, an amazing family from what I hear. Today, I met one of her daughters, and many of her grandchildren. Now before me, she kneels with one of her granddaughters before the Eucharist, adoring. God is so good, and humbling. Her daughter is a beautiful woman, homeschooling her children, teaching them to cherish their faith, to live their lives filled with hope and love. I felt drawn to them throughout mass as I walked in with them. After mass, I had to run out to my car in order to supply them with information on the Elk Farm I discovered. October is a special month, Bugle Days, in which the elk sound their unique call, a bellowing heard for miles. During mass an ecstasy struck, actually painful, I instantly rebeled, focusing on my sinful nature, attempting to declare I am unworthy. Opening my heart, nervously vulnerable, feeling like I should collapse, I became convinced playing the pathetic lonesome sinner is no longer an option. God wants more than my brokeness. He is calling me forth, to be active and giving. It is not enough to do all this work only to be content with my imaginary perfection, satisfied with an overwheliming sorrow for sin as an apex. Now all the grandchildren enter the church. The baby, his intensly alive, alert eyes and big ears, is adorable. God is so good. The Eucharist lords above.