This Sunday we had planned to get an early start but we slept in.  We went to 11 am mass and my wife led the children's liturgy.  Our deacon  gave an inspirational sermon and related his story of a sudden career ending heart attack when he was at the top of his game as an airline pilot.  He told of his first steps back to a faith filled life.  His main point was about how God decides where we go and when we change direction.

After mass we came home and prepared with great anticipation to go to a baseball game.  We left with little time to spare and were well on our way when my youngest son started throwing up profusely.  He vomited all over my older son who started screaming and slid down trying to avoid it and was choking with the seatbelt around his throat.  I went into a panick as we were on the freeway with no place to stop.  I realized that I had drifted into another lane and a truck had to move to the shoulder to avoid me.  My wife and I somehow started yelling at each other and I banged my fist on the steering wheel.  In my sense of helplessness I lost control of my temper and threw our stroller onto a grass knoll.

After about 30 minutes of cleaning and calming the children down we made our way back home.  Fortunately my wife and I pulled ourselves together and made a plan for a quick cleanup and we still went to the game.  We had a great time at the game.  I almost caught a foul ball.  The guy who caught it gave it to my youngest son.  We got to see Lance Berkman hit a home run.  My other son almost got his autograph.  Our team won.

We finished the day exhausted and in good spirits.

Thanks be to God.