Just did something really out of character this evening ... something different for me, anyway. I baked oatmeal raisin cookies with one of my postulant brothers.
I didn't squirrel back to my bedroom with another book from our basement library. I didn't pick up the latest issue of National Catholic Reporter or Commonweal. I made cookies in the kitchen.
I didn't steal away to study our catechism lessons or prepare for my upcoming presentation on sin and grace. I just mixed some sugar, oil, flour, eggs, oats, and raisins together and fixed a batch of cookies.
There was no necessity to compel the act. It wasn't like it was my turn to cook for the house. I just wanted to make some cookies, which in fact we will bring to the brothers at St. John the Baptist Friary in Manhattan when we visit them for vespers and dinner this Sunday.
But no one told me to do it. No one said it would be a good idea. I just thought of it myself.
Just an offering for the domestic Church to which I belong. It's different from what I usually offer. But it's something I can give, though I didn't recognize what I had to give. It's like I'm putting on a coat I haven't worn in many a year, only to find a few dollars in a forgotten pocket.
Postulancy continues to bring to me the pleasure of little surprises. May such joyful discoveries continue to dawn on me and my brothers.