The BIG Black Box
By: Joy Frystak
I belong to a group called Mothers With Faith. It is a group of Catholic mothers, from all of the Catholic churches in the Wausau and surrounding area, that meet once a month to talk about our faith and how it gets us through some of the darkest of days while dealing with toddlers and our other loving children.
This month, we discussed the concept of “letting go”. To get rid of whatever it is that holds us back. To have peace of mind again, or to be rid of whatever wears on our hearts. We discussed in length how important confession is, especially during this Lenten Season, and how Holy Week gives us an opportunity to ground ourselves once again. A time where we can remember exactly what is important to us, not only as mothers, but also as Catholics. I was thoroughly enjoying the meeting and taking many mental notes on how to “let go” of some of these things that just seem to want to hang out with me. Just before the meeting ended, we were given an index card and asked to write down these burdens and then place them inside a wooden black box. No one would see these cards as the boxes would be burned at the Easter Vigil. I dutifully began writing, filling up my card, both front and back. Once I started writing I couldn’t stop. However, I ran out of room and was not about to be the only one in the group to ask for another card so I put my pen away and began folding up my card. As I approached the black box, I knelt before it and prayed. Once I finished, I dropped my card into the box. But here is where God has a sense of humor. My card GOT STUCK! It would not drop through the slot because I had folded it too many times. I tried sticking my fingertips into the slot to push it down, that didn’t work. I took off my wedding ring and tried to push it down using the band (I almost lost my ring doing this), so I stopped that method. I resorted to pounding on the top of this big black wooden box hoping it would drop, NOPE! My card just sat in the slot, staring at me, hanging on for dear life. At this point, others had become aware of my predicament and one of the mothers handed me her rosary. A little shove from the rosary and my card fell right through.
Despite the mishap, what I took away from the experience was that sometimes letting go isn’t as easy as we would like it to be. However, once I offered it up in prayer and asked for forgiveness with some of the things I had written, I did feel the peace of mind I had been searching for. Oh, and I will ALWAYS carry my rosary going forward! You just never know when someone else may need it.