St. Dymphna Image

Dymphna Prayer

Lord Jesus Christ, You have willed that St. Dymphna should be invoked by thousands of clients as the patroness of nervous and mental disease, and have brought it about that her interest in these patients should be an inspiration to and an ideal of charity throughout the world. Grant that through the prayers of this youthful martyr of purity, those who suffer from nervous and mental illness everywhere on earth may be helped and consoled. I recommend to you in particular (Insert for whom you are petitioning)
Be pleased to hear the prayers of St. Dymphna and of your Blessed Mother, Help of the sick and Comforter of the afflicted, on behalf of those whom I recommend to the love and compassion of Your Sacred Heart,. Give them patience to bear with their affliction and resignation to do Your divine will. Give them the consolation they need and especially the cure they so much desire, if it be Your will. May we all serve Your suffering members with a charity which may merity for us the reward of being united forever in Heaven with You, our Divine Head, who lives and reigns with the Father in the unity of the Holy Spirit forever.

Links

Hey, if you are interested in buying Guerilla Apologetics for Catholics (see review below) and/or Guerilla Apologetics for Life Issues (ah... the review isn't posted yet, but should be above this posting soon), you may get them at:

Amazon's site - http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_ss_gw/002-6824022-0665645?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=%22guerrilla+apologetics%22&Go.x=13&Go.y=14
or
R.A.G.E. Media's site -http://www.dyinglight.com/store/

They are a great value - lots of info, plus each include a recommended resources section at the end - so get a few for your friends, too! Peace. ~~~mary

Guerrilla Apologetics for Catholics

Guerrilla Apologetics for Catholics - that's the title of a book which I recently read. What a title!
What an image -- crucifix wearing, camo-clad people darting out from behind trees shouting, "Sorry!," as they dive, roll and dart behind another tree. Hmmm...
Well, that doesn't have anything to do with the book.
Apologetics is a matter of defending faith. Guerrilla Apologetics for Catholics is author Paul E. Nowak's treatise for how Catholics should approach situations that have often been a matter of fruitlessly defending our faith. We all know that becoming angered by incorrect harsh assertions about the Church (you do know that Catholics aren't Christians, right?) ultimately serves no purpose. A defensive stance in a discussion is a weak position. Nowak advocates taking the offensive position in the discussion so as to develop a genuine conversation.
Throughout the book, the author presents and discusses contentious topics to be brought up Catholics when engaged by evangelical Christians intend upon the Catholics the "error" of their ways. By being prepared to question the questioner, who believes they are posing loaded questions, Catholics may in fact diffuse the minefield laid by wrong thinking tract writers who have misinformed those well intentions individuals.
The only thing in this book with which I had a problem - and it wasn't really a problem, more of an uneasiness - was the fact that Nowak says in more than one place that our personal relationships with the people involved in the discourse is more important than "winning a debate." On the surface I agree with that, but, if it is a matter of Truth (note the capital T), I do believe that we should not let erroneous information about the Church/God/Jesus/et. al. go unanswered. Throwing someone on the ground and not letting them up until they repeat the Truth isn't acceptable, but there is middle ground between that and leaving things unsaid for the sake of friendship - otherwise, what kind of friendship do we have if we can't state that which we believe to be true?!? We are to spread the good news, not hide it for the sake of false friendships.
Paul Nowak wrote another "Guerrilla" book that I'll tell you about later. Peace.

Just the same old same old me

Okay. This is the Tuesday after Easter. What did I gain, from this Lenten exercise? Have I become a better Christian? Did I learn to put myself aside? Did any epiphanies result? Nope.
I experienced the same level of frustration in my life. I argued. I was me. Flawed. I knew that before I began and am very much aware of it now. All I did was record it. And because of the pain, I didn't even record it every day.
Today I dealt with someone who has mightily proclaimed her desire for an elevated spiritual life. Should that not be the type of person with whom I should have untroubled exchanges? I mean she wants to be a saint. That fall in line with what we should all desire. But she drives me crazy!!!!!!! I find myself wanting to tell her what I think of her judgments, materialism, gossip and general lunacy. How is that right?!?!?! It isn't and I so try to not be that way. In fact, when I deal with her, I look at how she is and wonder if my difficulty with her is that I am committing a sin of being scrupulous. I wonder that. I don't really know to what degree someone's actions/attitudes must be "scrupulous" for the actions/attitudes to be sinful - so I then wonder about that. Then I wonder how I could imagine that I could ever wonder about falling into a situation of overzealousness - kind of laugh to myself - then go back to nearly disliking this person. I don't get how someone can so talk a good talk yet seem to embody that which she says she disdains. Gossip, ohhhh how she loathes gossip. She will note that she doesn't want to gossip - she doesn't want to have to go to confession for gossiping. Then, in a hushed stereotypically gossipy tone, she will say something about someone - something that serves no good. I feel I'm quite liberal as to my definition of conversational information - as opposed to gossip. If saying something does some good - even if is just that it lets you blow off steam - I don't consider it gossip. But if you are whispering to me that a neighbor left her family when we aren't on any subject, before or after you say that, related to that information, then I call that gossip. And wonder what compelled you to tell me, conspiratorially, that little tidbit.
Okay - am I any better of a person? Sure doesn't seem that way.
Jesus sweat blood. Peace.

Bishop Rhoades Reflection

My blog today is a matter not of my thoughts or words; rather, they are the words of Bishop Kevin C. Rhoades, Harrisburg Diocese. He shared his personal reflections for Holy Week in the Catholic Witness, March 30, 2007 issue. Please pray for our dynamic Bishop.

When we begin the Easter Triduum on Holy Thursday night, we enter, in a sense, into the Upper Room with Jesus as we celebrate the Mass of the Lord’s Supper. We give thanks for the two sacraments instituted by Christ during the Last Supper: the Eucharist and Holy Orders. The Lord Jesus gave us the Holy Eucharist as the perpetual memorial of His death and resurrection so that we can participate in His sacrifice and receive the graces of redemption through the Paschal banquet. The Lord Jesus gave us the ministerial priesthood so that the Eucharistic sacrifice of His Body and Blood, the source and summit of our lives, would be celebrated in every time and place. Please pray with me this Holy Thursday for our priests and seminarians and for an increase in priestly vocations, for without ordained priests, who alone receive the power to consecrate the Eucharist, we cannot celebrate the Eucharistic Sacrifice. Perhaps you can keep this intention in mind during prayer before the Blessed Sacrament this Holy Thursday night when the Eucharist is solemnly reserved for adoration in our parish churches and chapels after the Evening Mass of the Lord’s Supper.
Peace.

The Father will honor whoever serves me // the Lord God helps me

John's Gospel is my favorite. Not surprising. It seems to be the favorite of many people. Anyway, being that it is my favorite, when I look up an event in Jesus' life I usually turn to John. In my imagining, I can see Jesus saying,
"Whoever loves his love loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will preserve it in for eternity. Whoever serves me must follow me, and where I am, there also will be my servant be. The Father will honor whoever serves me (John 12:25-26).",
on the Wednesday before His death. I'm not a bible scholar or even moderately well studied, but that goes on my personl timeline for today, roughly 1970 years ago. It isn't part of the Gospel reading in Mass today (see Matthew 26:14-25 for that) but sure seems to mesh well with the Old Testament reading.
The first reading is from Isaiah 50:
The Lord GOD has given me the tongue of those who are taught, that I may know how to sustain with a word him that is weary. Morning by morning he wakens, he wakens my ear to hear as those who are taught. The Lord GOD has opened my ear, and I was not rebellious, I turned not backward. I gave my back to the smiters, and my cheeks to those who pulled out the beard; I hid not my face from shame and spitting. For the Lord GOD helps me; therefore I have not been confounded; therefore I have set my face like a flint, and I know that I shall not be put to shame; he who vindicates me is near. Who will contend with me? Let us stand up together. Who is my adversary? Let him come near to me. Behold, the Lord GOD helps me; who will declare me guilty? Behold, all of them will wear out like a garment; the moth will eat them up. (4-9)
Peace.

Sarcasm

Sarcasm can be the life blood of household. Such a household is a very mean-spirited place with mean people who have mean words. Compliments would certainly not what they seemed. The intent of a compliment, when voiced, could be said to point out an area of inadequacy by snidely praising. Or might it be that it only seems that way.
That's the thing about living in a verbal war zone - you are never quite sure of where the barb wire lies. It is often disguised. Camouflauged. Sarcasm can be used to mask a vitriol spirit. And the people skilled in using it are often thought to be clever.
If a person turns her back on that existence, does it ever leave her? If her heart's desire is peace, simple interactions, honest exchanges - is she able to purge the dirtiness that had sullied her life? Does a rattle snake cease being a rattle snake if it spurns the shake of her tail and the drip of her venom? Her life is that of a snake. Even if never used, as long as she lives, she possesses a death rattle. Instinct will ever press upon her.
Peace.

Making Memories. Or Not.

The Chrism Mass was this evening. Did I remember before seeing mention of it just now as I paged down the blog trying to figure out what I should write tonight? Weeeellllll... No. Guess that means that I'll just have to look forward to next year being the first year I attend one. In reality, in the shape I'm in right now, I shouldn't have gone anyway.
I need to find the right time to talk to Scott about how he feels about my lack of memory. The reason I say that is because he seemed somewhat frightened today when he asked me why I didn't remember a decision I had made 15 minutes before I said something that made it apparent that I didn't remember the decision. He knows as much about my memory situation as I do, yet I think this time - the small amount of time between one thing and the other - kind of knocked him off balance. He has always done really well with my limitations, but the incongruity of a seemingly intelligent person losing recollection of something so quickly seemed to get him. If it would have been 2 hours, he very well may have just chalked it up to the MD and moved on. The fact that the decision was a parenting related one may have heightened his anxiety too. If the person in charge doesn't have a firm grasp on things, maybe that would make a kid's world a little wobbly. Then again, I may be reading too much in to it. The only way to find out is to talk to him. I must remember to do that. I must remember to do that. I must remember to do that. I must... Oh, shoot. What was it that I was gonna do? Peace.

You don't say?

I don't know that I have ever said the line, "Crucify Him. Crucify Him.", as a member of the crowd during the Palm Sunday Gospel. Other lines are rough, but I have said them to be in "communion" with the rest of the congregation. Everytime that I have done that, I think that there had to have been people in the real crowd who went along with everyone else because that is the thing you do when part of a group. There had to have been people who sensed the injustice, yet they did as those around them.
Were there many people who cried at Christ's death, yet had that same day mocked or otherwise betrayed Him? If so, who were they and how did that impact them? Did the reality of what they had done ultimately strengthen or break them; did it cause them to cast aside their old ways or, perhaps, to crumble under the weight of it all? Or were they only momentarily saddened without that day leaving a prolonged impact upon their earthly lives?
Now, more than 2000 years later, I go along with the crowd - saying almost all of the lines - for the sake of "communion." Might that not be worse? In the recreation, I knowingly take on a despicable role. It is important that we each know that we are a part of the Body and that as a part we must function with the other parts, yet if one foot steps in a hole should the other? Or should the other jump to avoid the hole. How does one discern what is prudence, as opposed to disobedience? Independence can be a matter of a prideful being. By its nature, pride is devoid of humility and for a person to lack humility is for them to lack God.
Oh, I have no idea where I'm going with this. I have given myself and my family over to the Church and her teachings, so I guess I should even say the line that I find so distasteful. It seems odd to offer the disgust of uttering the words to the Lord (after all, I will be saying things against Him) but that might be the way.
I'm nodding off, so I'll leave this entry as it is. Hopefully, it isn't too poor. Peace.

Imagine

Well, as of this evening, we are in the final week of Lent. Holy Week. The week when the kettle of salvation bubbled up and boiled over. The week when the Most Innocent of innocents died for the sinful. This week we will observe God Made Man's blood being shed for our sake.
But I'm getting ahead of the story, am I not?
The Gospel reading for Saturday was the "Session of the Sanhedrin," John 11:45-54. That is when the chief priests and the Pharisees, apprised of Jesus' resurrection of Lazarus, gather to discuss the problem Jesus' ministry presented them. He was performing miracles and many were coming to believe in Him. Jesus threatened their very existence. "So from that day on they planned to kill Him" John 11:53. Imagine.
Peace.

Thank you, God. Thank you.

Below is the content of an e-mail I received today --


DEAR GOD:

I want to thank You for what you have already done. I am not going
to wait until I see results or receive rewards; I am thanking you right
now. I am not going to wait until I feel better or things look better; I
am thanking you right now. I am not going to wait until people say
they are sorry or until they stop talking about me; I am thanking you
right now. I am not going to wait until the pain in my body dis-
appears; I am thanking you right now. I am not going to wait until my
financial situation improves; I am going to thank you right now. I am
not going to wait until the children are asleep and the house is quiet;
I am going to thank you right now. I am not going to wait until I get
promoted at work or until I get the job; I am going to thank you right
now. I am not going to wait until I understand every experience in
my life that has caused me pain or grief; I am thanking you right now.
I am not going to wait until the journey gets easier or the challenges
are removed; I am thanking you right now.

I am thanking you because I am alive. I am thanking you because I
made it through the day's difficulties. I am thanking you because I
have walked around the obstacles. I am thanking you because I have
the ability and the opportunity to do more and do better.

I'm thanking you because FATHER, YOU haven't given up on me.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Isn't that nice? How often do we miss opportunities to thank God? Every day? Every hour? Every minute? Every second? Every breath?
Lately, I've been trying to be consciously very thankful for a particular something(s). I am thankful for healing and have repeatedly prayed prayers of thanks for the healing, yet, even though I am consciously doing this, I think I missed giving thanks for a whole day. Imagine - if a person can't consistently offer thanks for one thing in her life of which she is actively trying to be mindful, there must be more instances of ingratitude in one day than there are grains of sand upon a beach. But, you know what? I am thankful for that. I am thankful that God loves us so much that He pours forth His bounty upon His nearly thankless creatures. I am thankful that we do not receive what we deserve. Does what I'm saying make sense? In a way it does but in another it doesn't. I can't comprehend God - I can only give thanks. May our worth never be judged based upon our degree of gratitude. Peace.

Engaging Forgiveness

Last night I sat transfixed in front of the TV. The Holy Father celebrated the Penitential Rite with the youth of the Diocese of Rome yesterday. I was able to watch this beautiful celebration during a rebroadcast on EWTN. It was truly riveting.
I know this must sound like a real yawn, but it was a terrific experience to watch the confessors with their penitents. The exchanges were amazing to me. Think about it - how often have you watched someone during the sacrament of reconciliation? I actually watched soul be cleansed. Can you wrap your mind around that?
It wasn't a weird voyeurism that kept me watching; rather, the depth of involvement of the participants. It was fantastic. The priests were deeply listening and the young people seemed to be using the opportunity to grow. Not one person looked like they were following a cut and dry formula. And don't tell me you don't know what I mean by formula: days since last confession + haltingly stating 4 or 5 transgressions + an act of contrition + 1 Hail Mary = remittance of sin. Who knows if that wasn't really the case in what I saw last night, but it didn't seem that way. There were conversations. In each instance, it seemed like both parties were really listening to each other. It was great. Peace.

The Neck Rules

Not even fighting the neck tonight - it rules. The Ruler says to lay it down or I will pay for my insolence in the days to come. Scott is serving this weekend & I want to be there. Ignore the neck and I won't be able to make the trip. Neck wins tonight. Peace.

Snippets

I have come to the conclusion that I am a miserable blogger. I sit down to blog and end up searching the net for a topic to blog about. I really don't have anything pressing to share.
My life is a matter of snippets -
Chrism Mass is coming up next Monday
Meeting with teachers on Tuesday
Husband agrees that we need a car, yet won't actively car shop
PG-13 movies, on the whole, are not for 11 year olds
Politics of fertility aren't explored
Read a comment on a site by a woman who said she couldn't do NFP because she doesn't have a regular cycle. Said that she would like to be completely faithful to the Church but just can't do NFP. A paragraph later she noted that she and he husband are so open to life that they went through fertility shots to have their two children! She is so Catholic that they used artificial fertility treatment --- arghhhh!
Wondering how I might get extra palms on Palm Sunday to try to weave a craft
Loved the weather we had today! Actually had son wear shorts to school today. It was quite warm even before he left for school.
http://www.dappledthings.org/submit.html is a link for info about submitting to a Catholic magazine looking for authors and photographers who are at least freshmen in college but not older than 35. I believe they are also having a competition for High Schoolers. Take a look.
When I first looked at the need for submissions I thought that would be an opportunity for me to find a focus and actually produce my first piece in 14 years. Hmmmpphhh! Age-ists! 35 -- what an arbitrary number. Harrmpphhhh!!! Especially when they aren't paying - lol. Goodnight one and all. Peace.

Nada

My mind is thinking of things about which only I am concerned. I was going to offer a link to Danielle Bean's blog to read instead, but when I jumped over to her site, I found that a big "OOPS!" recently happened and she is in mid-recovery of her blog right now. I'd like to meet that woman - she is a home schooling mom of many and an author/editor, yet she keeps her sense of humor in her blog. Even when someone accidentally deletes it. Peace.

We Shall Overcome

Started reading Uncle Tom's Cabin today with Scott. We haven't even completed the first chapter and both of us are having a difficult time with how often the word "nigger" is used. It is supposed to be an important literary work, but the value assigned to the word and the frequency of its usage is bothersome to the point that I'd like to stop reading it. At the same time I don't want to teach Scott that he should only stay within his comfort zone. That isn't an attitude that will serve him well in school or work. Plus, learning to deal with uncomfortable things will only help him when faced with uncomfortable situations and fears later in his personal life - help him to confront them and knock them down to size.
I was proud of him today in this area. Twice he reached out and included a disabled person of obvious disability. In reality, treating people equally is how we should all act but differences scare people and can be especially scary to children. The man he treated as everyone should be treated is a person that I have seen adults pretend that he is invisible because they don't know how to deal with him. Scott doing that is really no biggy except it bodes well for him to go beyond personal discomfort to freely do what should be done. Or, so I hope. Peace.

Happy New Age Tree-Hugging Anti-Establishment Self-Actualizing Feet

Oy, what a movie we did see tonight! Happy Feet. It seemed like it was made to prove that it is possible to make a movie which promotes all the liberal agendas. It starts with stay at home fathers who take care of the babies while the mothers go to work. Differences are good but the establishment dislikes things against the status quo for no other reason than they are outside of the norm. God is a threat used to subdue the masses - fire and brimstone to keep people in line. To be a religious follower is to be a mindless religious follower. Subtle homosexuality is present - such as one male character asserting that another likes an extended hug and that it is okay to feel that way. People are raping the world of natural resource and polluting what is left behind. Positive change is accomplished by breaking free of societal convention and doing what makes you happy. It was definite overkill - just like clubbing an already dead baby seal, but for a good reason. Of course. Peace.

Clueless

As I was putting him to bed last night Scott asked me why we have to live on Earth. Why couldn't we just be with God in Heaven? So, we spent the whole night discussing original sin, death, loving/desiring God and the purification of Purgatory.
Well, actually, I balled them all together in a five minute answer, kissed him goodnight and have since wondered at the grace God gives parents to answer questions that in the first second or two after the question is asked our minds seem to slosh around in our heads as we can't imagine being able to answer the question. I'm clueless as to how God does it - thankful, but clueless. Peace. ~~~mary

Weak Entry

I am too tired to post, yet I am counting this as posting - you know that represents faithfulness to the task. Weak. Yeah, weak, weak way to do the minimum. Peace,

My Kingdom for a Horse

I'm very much saddened by the fact that I can't rely upon my husband. I've gotten used to being disappointed in our home life, but because of my disabilities I haven't had many problems about doing things outside of the house. I generally don't go outside of the house. The rare times that I have, I've always made sure to work things so there are no problems for my husband. I guess that also assured that I wouldn't have problems.
Today, I want to go to a one woman show about St. Catherine of Sienna. We only have one car the somewhat works, so my husband must be home for me to use it. In the last two days he has made 4 seperate statements about doing things that would make it so he would not be home in time for me to go to the show. This is a man who likes nothing better than getting off work to come home to spend every evening in front of the television. He doesn't go anywhere. He doesn't do anything, yet in the last two days he has come up with 4 different things he was going to do after work today.
It isn't like I am trying to get him to go to see this show. I just want the car. I just want him to do as he does every day. Actually, right now, I just want to cry. Peace.

The Cathedral

I stopped in at St. Pat's today. The renovations really highlight our Lord. Ugh. That sounds stupid. I know that sounds stupid, but that is what it does. And that is probably why photographs of the renovation have been none too thrilling. I mean... how many photographs show how something gives glory to God? How does a photograph show emphasis? The art work is still the same artwork (for the most part) - but it bolder, brighter, more there. I've looked at this church bit by bit before, but so much more of it stood out today. Before, individual elements faded together into a nice church. Now, they come together to bear witness our Lord and His Church.
And for those interested in the salvation of their soul -
Yeah, like I can hear someone saying, "Interested in the salvation of my soul? Ho, ho - not me." Okay, maybe a mentally ill devil worshiper, but you know what I mean.
Anyway, there is a plenary indulgence associated with a pilgrimage to Saint Patrick's Cathedral, located at 212 State St. (this portion of State Street is immediately in front of the Pennsylvania State Capital) in Harrisburg, during its centennial year celebration. So give yourself a treat - and sometime off from purgatory - by visiting between March 17, 2007 and March 17, 2008. Just be sure to fulfill the usual conditions required to receive an indulgence. Peace.

Zzzzzzzzzzz

I've been sitting here for more than an hour trying to allow a subject to come to mind. Instead of that happening, I keep falling asleep. Not too productive.
So, let me say two things:
- Happy Feast of St. Joseph!
- Peace.

Name Calling

Know what I thought of early this morning when yesterday's blog came to mind? Since I lack the humility of St. Therese and she is called "The Little Flower" maybe I'm "The Big Weed." Peace.

Saturday before Easter

I wonder if I can ever be truly humble. I mean really humble - walk on me, I don't notice sort of humble. Splash water on me while you are washing the floor and I'll eventually ask you if you realize that you are doing that. Continue to splash me, and I'll either have a laughing fit at the absurdity of it all or I'll ask you to stop splashing. Even if it were no big deal to me, if you were consistantly rude, I would probably end up saying something about it to you so that it might lessen the odds of you being likewise rude to others. Who am I to think I should do that?
The reason I am wondering about the humility thing is because I just found out that my husband's niece has decided that she is going to move from her apartment to her house the day before Easter and it bothers me. I can't imagine deciding that everyone who has said they will help must do so on a holiday weekend, let alone a religious holiday weekend. There is no way that I would think to do that. Settlement on the house is the 19th of March. Her lease on the apartment doesn't expire until the end of April. So, why would she pick a religious holiday weekend?
I do need to acknowledge and respect a very important date on the calendar between March 19th and April 30th - the first day of Trout season. No one, most of all her husband, can be expected to miss the first day of trout! Aaaarghhhhh!!!!!
See what I mean? Why should this frustrate me? Really?
Yet, it does. I have way too much of a problem with people being inconsiderate. How can I ever be as I should be if I think I have a right to judge situations? Just because I view that Saturday as the day the Lord is in His tomb, why should I think others should respect that day? After all, He isn't really in the tomb. He has risen. I know that is the reality and I know that is how others see the situation, yet it is a mournful time for me. Perhaps that is loopy, but that is how I feel.
Anyway - and this is the kicker - I can't do any of the moving, no matter what day they choose to move. So, why, oh why, should I be bothered by this? My part in it all is just finding a day between now and the move to make sloppy joes for the people moving them to eat. Someday that I am feeling better than usual, I'm going to throw some Manwich on browned hamburger and then freeze it for whichever date. Why do I care if she is being inconsiderate? Why do I think I can determine inconsideration on the part of anyone? Who am I to think I ought have opinions? Shouldn't we strive for true self-abnegation? Trust that God has a hand in everything? I just wish I could put myself aside. Blah. Peace.

Fluffy White for Fluffy Brown Bunny

Remember those days of beautiful weather that I mentioned earlier this week? So mild, so lovely. Well, they are gone. Bye, bye. Sayonara. Adios. Au revoir. Auf Wiedersehen. До свидания, even. We have snow, white fluffy snow. Personally, I feel that, if you are going to have snow, white fluffy is the best - yet, since I let spring fever envelop me, I really would have preferred not to see anymore snow again until mid-November.
This afternoon Scott and I took his bunny Chester outside to experience snow. In bunny years, Chester is as old as Moses, yet he hadn't experienced much beyond his cage until we "rescued" him last year. Having been an indoor pet all his life, the out of doors seems to be quite thrilling for him - of course, that is most likely a matter of personification, but it is our perception and we are sticking to it. Anyway, since this is our first snowfall since Chester joined us that I could feel fairly safe about letting him free to wander in an area of the yard, he seemed to enthusiastically embrace the white stuff. He scurried here and there, then turned around and did it again. Chester scampered and scurried, scurried and scampered. Usually, when Chester is involved in a mission he surveys the area, then pauses to wash his paws so as to ruminate upon the information obtained, then, after considering the pertinent facts, he delves further into the areas that need greater illumination. That wasn't the case today. It was all so new that he didn't have time to waste thinking, or grooming. It was a very good day for the bunny. Peace.

Evaluation

Mid-Lent Check-up:
Praying - yep, do it. Not often do I do it well. I don't know that it has increased since Lent. I have the luxury of being able to stop what I'm doing to pray most days, most of the time and I have a habit of praying while doing things; therefore, I can say that there is much time that is completely free of prayer. Maybe I should schedule prayer time as a way to increase prayer. I'll have to pray about that.
Spiritual reading - yep, do that. Not as much as praying. The amount of time for this has increased, but, I have to admit, it is less than it has been at other times. Specifically, I really need to read scripture more.
**Hey, hey. Do not insert the stereotype that says that Catholics don't read the Bible.**
I should do it more - meaning that I do read the Bible, but should do it more often/longer. One day I will own four Bibles so that physical limitations will not lead me to being apathetic about picking up a Bible - computer Bible, living room Bible, bedroom Bible and car Bible. Oy, I am so materialistic - who real needs four Bibles? Yet, in my mind, four seems to be a good number of personal Bibles. So silly.
Almsgiving - yep, do that. Need to really evaluate what has been done and what more needs done. My husband doesn't know how much I donate - it is better that way. He feels that money that is tithed could be better spent enlivening our economy and filling our bellies. Yet, when I think of $10 being spent at McDonald's, I think of Food for the Poor using the same amount to feed a family for a month. We kill ourselves with junk food while others are dying of starvation. That doesn't mean that I think all disposable income should go to a charity, it is just that I weigh the value of extravagances and may have a different idea of what I consider an extravagance compared to other Americans. I approach them differently too - skiing is expensive, yet once or twice a year my son goes skiing on discount days so that he gets to enjoy the fortunate lifestyle of an American without squandering money. This Lent is a little different in the area of donations to charity because we very soon need to buy new cars - new used, mind you. The station wagon and van are not inspection worthy and the repairs would far exceed their value - plus, one needs has a blown head or head gasket and the other's transmission seems ready to seize. Therefore, it would be nice to have a couple hundred dollars to help w/the car buying process.
Fasting - nope, not doing. I'm an all or nothing kind of gal. Because of the diabetes, I have to eat. If I didn't have to eat, I could fast. I've searched online to try to find out how diabetics fast and haven't really found anything useful. So, I've only fasted one day. Not so great - eh? I'd love to know which is worse for me - one day of truly fasting or eating the two rows of marshmallow peeps that I had in less than an hour. Granted, the peeps were an anomaly, but I'm thinking that they might be worse than fasting. If that is the case, it is hypocritical of me not to fast.
Blogging - yep, do it. Missed an entry once. Made two entries in one day to make up for it, but I'm not so sure that it is possible to make up for faithfulness. In fact, I doubt that it is possible. Just the same the biggest element of this blogging thing is that I am doing it to force myself to do something which I had no interest in so doing - have it be a humbling sort of thing. Not too sure that any humility has come from this task.
eBay - nope, don't do it. That is a good thing in this instance - this is my self denial thing. Hey, it is an economic fast! Wahoo, I'm fasting! Maybe that is how I should answer the eBay merchant who e-mailed to inform me that he had listed a Fr. Damian medal.
Dear Sebastien -
Thanks for letting me know about your Fr. Damian medal listing. Unfortunately, I'm involved in an economic fast that precludes my entering the eBay web site. Hoping you are having a blessed Lenten season. Peace.
Nah, I'll just leave his e-mail unanswered.
My evaluation of this Lenten check-up? Not so sure that what I'm doing can possibly bear fruit this Lent. Just the same, I believe that in God's time all will be as it should. Peace.

Biting dullness?

A mention to a trip to Las Vegas was made in an e-mail today. I don't know for sure, but it seems like there may be a trip in the makings for all the female in my husband's family. I know that they are including me out of kindness, but I can't picture myself in that town. Nothing about it is appealing to me, and the nature of the town repulses me.
I started writing on this subject because I was going to tell of imagined humorous scenes of me in different distinctly Vegas situations. Prostitutes, casual nudity, free booze, gambling, and low budget buffets - satirical comic fodder. It just isn't coming to me though. So much that could have been turned into snide comments is just too dark or sad to jest about.
I'm saying that in the broad sense. I used to enjoy having fun at the expense of others as long as it didn't cost them. I used to think that as long as someone didn't know that they were the butt of a joke that it was okay to use them in such a manner. What did it matter if I wasn't hurting them? No harm, no foul.
Has life squeezed the humor out of me or have I developed a greater awareness of the dignity that ought to be afforded man? Hmmm...
Maybe its just menopause. Peace.

Beautiful. Oh, So Very Beautiful.

We were blessed with another beautiful day! Wahoo!!! I was able to do a few little preparatory things for the garden. Tomorrow, I'm hoping to throw some pulverized egg shells on a few of the beds. I really wish I could get a hold of a week worth of a restaurant's coffee grounds to toss where I plan to have tomato plants this year. One day I'll find a restaurant that will do that... one day. They say that ya gotta have dreams or all you have are nightmares. So, that is my dream - used coffee grounds. It was never said that ya gotta have big dreams. Although, in truth, I do want a lot of coffee grounds. ;o)

Today's First Reading is Daniel 3:25, 34-43

In the fire Azariah stood up and prayed aloud:
For your name's sake, do not deliver us up forever, or make void your covenant.
Do not take away your mercy from us, for the sake of Abraham, your beloved, Isaac your servant, and Israel your holy one,
To whom you promised to multiply their offspring like the stars of heaven, or the sand on the shore of the sea.
For we are reduced, O Lord, beyond any other nation, brought low everywhere in the world this day because of our sins.
We have in our day no prince, prophet, or leader, no holocaust, sacrifice, oblation, or incense, no place to offer first fruits, to find favor with you.
But with contrite heart and humble spirit let us be received;
As though it were holocausts of rams and bullocks, or thousands of fat lambs, So let our sacrifice be in your presence today as we follow you unreservedly; for those who trust in you cannot be put to shame.
And now we follow you with our whole heart, we fear you and we pray to you.
Do not let us be put to shame, but deal with us in your kindness and great mercy.
Deliver us by your wonders, and bring glory to your name, O Lord

Isn't that beautiful? So much bigger than any dream. Peace.

Christmas Springs to Mind

Today I am going to use this color to celebrate the beautiful spring like day we enjoyed in our area. For about two hours this afternoon, the outdoor temperature was absolutely glorious. During that time, on and off, I sat outside painting.
Before you begin imagining a more idyllic scene than it was, I should make it clear that I wasn't sitting before an easel as I composed yet another masterpiece. Instead, I was covering plywood with white paint. No artistic endeavor. Simply rudimentary slopping of wood with paint. Just the same, I had a good time.
That "slopping" resulted in my outdoor creche scene finally being protected from the elements! It had one less than adequate application of paint that got it through Christmastime, but wasn't going to carry it beyond that. But today, as I was wrapped in the warmth of the sun, Jesus, Mary and Joseph's silhouette received a few coated of love that will allow for that scene to grace our lawn for many a Christmas.
Okay, okay - it sounds mighty silly to speak of the Holy Family being coated with love... blah, blah, blah. But I am thrilled that I was able to do that today. For years I have wanted a tasteful outdoor creche scene to celebrate Christ's birth, but, amid all the crass commercialism of the season, it was a nearly impossible dream. So in December, I drew the silhouette on a piece of plywood, my husband it cut out with a jigsaw and then lightly coated it with spray paint. Voila! One Holy Family amid the neighborhood's blizzard of snowmen, sleighfuls of santas, and plethora, yes, plethora of penguins - please don't make me describe the amount reindeer. I love that we may now adorn our lawn with this most precious scene - I love it. In fact, I have actually considered keeping it out year round in the back of our property, as a reminder. I didn't consider it very long, but I did give the thought its very own moment. Peace.

Call me Mary

Call me Mary - go ahead. No, seriously. Call me, "Mary."
Mary or Martha. Who am I?
Today I was Mary. I mean... I was Mary!
I can't think of a time before this that I wasn't Martha, but today I was Mary. That doesn't mean that taking up the standard role of Martha didn't come to mind, but it was only for less than a moment. Clearly I couldn't be Martha - after all, I had signed up to be Mary.
Okay, "What is she talking about?," you might ask. I would probably wonder about you if you didn't ask that question, yet continued to read. I mean, really - where do I come off blathering on with nonsensical talk about being Mary, not Martha. Is this an entry about a psychotic split or what? How could I expect you to read on? Oh, yeah... I guess I should clarify.
The answer is simple.
I sat with Jesus while someone else flitted about noisily preparing things. I didn't even offer to help. I gazed at Him thinking of His wondrous ways. The person making the noise may or may not have wanted me to volunteer to help - I am pretty certain she did - but with no one else in the church to focus upon our Lord, I wasn't about to walk around lifting kneelers so that maybe, just maybe, someone would notice that the kneelers were uniformly in the up position before people arrived for the evening devotion and homily. It just wasn't going to happen. Nope. And you know what? It felt right.
In fact, it was right. Peace.

Forty Hours

Our parish's Forty Hours Eucharistic Devotion began at the end of today's 11:15 Mass. It's beginning was very unsettling for me. The whole congregation, obviously, knew that Christ was in full view on the altar, yet within about 30 seconds of the priest leaving the altar, the church was filled with the clatter of idle chatter. I'm not sure that I should have done this, but, when I felt my son move to look about himself as I was praying, I whispered to him that he needed to pray that the people gain a better understanding of what they were doing as I prayed in apology asked for forgiveness. Was that too much to have a kid do? I hope it falls into the category of teaching a child to use a situation as a stimulus for prayer, if there is such a category.
Anyway, the other part of the initial moment of the devotion that was unpleasant was the fact that no one had signed up to visit with our Lord for the first 3 hours of exposition. I was stunned - so stunned that I just stood looking at the board in disbelief for about 15 seconds. This was 10 minutes after the last Sunday Mass - 1/2 an hour before the start of the first empty time slot. Only a few stragglers were left. It was so very bizarre. This was at the main entrance. Oodles of people had to have seen that no one was scheduled, yet no one slotted him or herself in. An extraordinary Eucharistic minister who loves to serve on the altar came out as I was staring at the sign-up sheet and said she was amazed that the spaces were empty, yet she didn't do anything to correct the situation.
During my 15 seconds of staring I started to kind of judgmentally think to myself that I was sure that everyone probably had excuses that they thought were pretty good as to why they hadn't signed up. Before that went very far, I thought about the fact that I felt my reason was pretty good for why my name wasn't in one of those time slots. I had just spent an hour in Mass - why couldn't I spend at least a 1/2 hour with Jesus to thank Him for enabling me to successfully ignore pain well enough so that I was able to have shared in that celebration?! So, I signed the sheet, quickly ran for the groceries we needed during the in between time, placed the cold items in the church's refrigerator and then spent almost an hour singing, praying and giving thanks - you know, adoring our Eucharistic Lord.
Scott ended up staying in the church social hall reading because, when he came upstairs to pray, I immediately sent him back downstairs - he had a mean case of the hiccups because, in his hurry to join me, he had eaten the sub I had gotten him for lunch at the store way too fast. Granted there was nobody else upstairs praying, but I didn't want him to disturb or scare off anyone who might stop in to pray. Who knows - it just might have been fear of hiccuping children that had made everyone skip signing up for those initial time slots. Peace.

Full of Emptiness

I spoke with a father today. Though blank faced, pain filled his voice as he didn't tell of his lost son. He spoke of caring for the ones who remain. As he spoke of the present, he mourned the past. The pain could almost be touched, but he didn't want it touched. The pain had become part of a cloth. A cloth shroud twisting and turning about him and his family. It threatens to choke the life of them all, yet it is so real in it's falseness that they cling to it as if it is life itself.
Ironically, part of today's Gospel reading is the parable of the prodigal son (Luke 15:11-32). I hope that the lost son of the man with whom I spoke might one day find his way back to his family. I pray that they might be able to come together rejoicing in a love to be found. Peace.

Nancy Pelosi

One of my son's teachers lost it yesterday. Evidently, as part of a current event student reader, there was a question asked about the first woman Speaker of the United States House of Representatives that the majority of the fifth grade class could not answer because they had not a clue as to the woman referenced. The teacher was astounded that the kids don't watch the news and loudly suggested they begin doing so that very evening.
Well, I told Scott about Nancy Pelosi, but I don't think the impression I gave him was what the teacher would have expected. I wasn't warm fuzzy about the fact that this congress' composition might signal an advancement in civil rights in that for the first time we have a woman second in line to the presidency. Not did I proudly note that a Catholic grandmother has risen to this height of authority in our government. I flatly told him those things. I also let him know that she isn't Pro-Life. We discussed the implications of a private individual ignorantly being pro-choice as opposed to a person in power ignorantly fostering pro-choice legislation. Her being Catholic and pro-choice didn't make sense to him.
After we spoke, I thought about the fact that most of the kids in his class don't watch the news. My first thought was that they were mindlessly watching some Nickelodeon show at the time, but then I began thinking about Scott's lack of awareness. When he was born I would have probably pegged fourth grade as the year I would have wanted to begin heightening his exposure to televised world news events, yet I haven't even begun to do so in fifth grade. The greatest reason for that has to be the 9/11 attacks. He was in kindergarten when they occurred.
I used to be a news junkie. I watched the news whenever I could and I'd jump back and forth between the news magazine shows regularly every evening - Dan Rathers often danced between the other networks' couples (Jane Pauley and Stone Phillips/Barbara Walters and Hugh Downs). I couldn't get enough. Within a day of 9/11, I got my fill. It was too raw; too real. It all became too much.
The impact, for me, was that news no longer just reported information; it transmitted pain. Even during the crisis of Katrina, I didn't watch. I'd listen to and read reports, but not watch the nightly or magazine news programs. It isn't that I can't - that it is too much of an emotional burden - I've just had enough. So, with that perspective in mind, doesn't it seem that a person of that mindset would not be overly eager to sit her child down to watch the news? And, continuing down that path, might not other parents, consciously or unconsciously, be doing the same? I remember Scott's kindergarten teacher remarking that not one child in his class had brought the events of 9/11 up in class, not one. That is noteworthy in that Scott's class members were extremely gregarious - it seemed like the kids in Scott's class discussed amongst each other everything that was discussed or done outside of class. His teacher was prepared for damage control, yet never had to handle anything related to 9/11. That being the case, it makes sense that parents who sheltered their young and extremely impressionable children from the news/pain of those days might not be eager to now sully those same kids. Makes sense to me. Peace.

Ms. Molly

Moll-Moll is hurting. Hurting very badly. She doesn't want to move. She must be coaxed to eat her favorite foods and doesn't have any interest in water. I pray that this will remedy itself quickly.
Want to hear something odd? Well, even if you don't, you will if you keep reading. I'm grateful for my pain. It may mean that it is difficult to lift my 11 pound little lamb and to be down on the floor when she needs me, but it has, much more importantly, made it so that I can read what is going on with her right now. I understand that she isn't shivering because she is cold; she is quaking in pain. When her neck is stretched out and her eyes are darting back and forth, she is coping with a muscle spasm and seems to appreciate quiet attention in the form of loving words. If she is made to go outside she tries to hide under the camper or deck to be alone, she doesn't want to deal with anything and is somewhat protected in those spots. The position she is most comfortable in is lying down, and then only after spasms caused by her getting in the position have subsided. Moll-Moll is hurting.
Thanks God for children's Motrin -
it pushes back my little girl's pain
Thank you God for peanut butter -
it can draw a dog out of a tight spot
Thanks God for the sunbeams -
they're nature's heating pad to ease strain
Thank you God for prayer -
it lets me ask you to heal my Molly.
Honor, praise and glory to you oh Lord from whom all good comes. May we always praise Your name and rest in the knowledge of Your mercy. Honor, praise and glory be Yours, now and forever. Amen.
Peace.

Pio Site

Here is a present to you: http://www.padrepiodevotions.org/
As you are able to tell by the site name, it is a St. Padre Pio web site. I love Padre Pio. He was such a down to earth man, yet a most heavenly priest. On the site's "Padre Pio's Words" page, I ran across these two quotes:

You must not be discouraged or let yourself become dejected if your actions have not succeeded as perfectly as you intended. What do you expect? We are made of clay and not every soil yields the fruits expected by the one who tills it. But let us always humble ourselves and acknowledge that we are nothing if we lack the Divine assistance.
Our Lord sends the crosses; we do not have to invent them.

I need to look to the Lord, ask to be more receptive to the graces given and focus on the tasks assigned rather than myopically honing in on the nonsense of self. In no way is it humble to put aside yourself in order to say, "Oh, look at my humility." I'm not saying that I do that, but to a lesser degree, I wonder, do we do it, even just a little bit, when we consciously take on a task for spiritual development that didn't come seamlessly? If not given by God, don't we tend to evaluate how we are doing at the task? However, when we just take things as they come - not see a need and fill it, but feel a need and allow it to be filled - later on, maybe four things down the road, in a passing glance, we are blessed by a vision of God's hands in our lives. One of those moments has to easily be worth, at least, 20 of the managed tasks.
I'm not sure that I'm being clear. I'm not saying we shouldn't consciously do for others; rather, I'm saying that it shouldn't be a "task" to do for others with some artificial goal. If it is a task, then we are more likely to see our individual hand in the situation which might not only obscure our view of God's hand in the situation, but also cause us to lose true humility that might otherwise be available. Okay, I think that I've said quite enough without saying anything. Enjoy the Padre Pio site! Peace.

Early End to the Day

Yesterday ended much earlier than I could have imagined. I laid down to read shortly after my son came home from school. Before I did so, I asked him to let me sleep if I fell asleep. Well, I did fall asleep and didn't get up again for 9 1/2 hours. And that was just for a quick potty trip - right back to bed afterward. I guess it was a good thing that Sunday night I had let Bill and Scott know that we were having leftover vegetable soup for dinner last night.
I might have wondered if, at some level, I had wanted to sleep like that - I don't normally talk about a meal three meals before its time, but I did on Sunday and I don't pray a particular prayer until sometime near midnight, but I did in the afternoon - except I would think I would have made my blog entry for the day before laying down if I had an idea I wouldn't be getting up in the same day. Sooooo... I didn't blog yesterday. No great loss for humanity, but it means that I blew the Lenten task by so doing. I'm not going to focus on that though. Instead, I'm just going to see it as behind me and know that I will continue to try to do a daily entry (plus, at some point, I'll do an extra entry to right it numerically).
"He who brings thanksgiving as his sacrifice honors me; to him who orders his way aright I will show the salvation of God!" (Psalms 50:23), is part of today's scripture readings and that makes me mindful of the fact that I need to bring thanksgiving to God. God knows everything about us and our lives - good, bad and neutral. Although I'm sure that God is gratified when we realize that we need to take a better path in life, it must be even better for Him to hear thanks for what we have that allows us to move to a better life path. So, even though I didn't blog yesterday, I thank the Lord for the rest that I obviously needed and that allowed me to focus upon writing this entry. Peace.

Celebrating

Well, today marked the third birthday celebration in our family this year. For that matter, the third for the week. And it was for only one person's birth. One person, three family celebration... and two classroom "parties." That's a lot of junk food. And his birthday didn't even show up on the calendar!
That is how it is for our leap year day "baby," Scott. This is how it is for him every year that his birthday doesn't appear on the calendar. A number of people have said that it must be rough for him, only having a birthday every four years. He loves it. It would probably be tough on him if he had siblings, but since he doesn't we've always been able to make the anniversary of his birth special. Three out of every four birthdays we - mom, dad and birthday boy - do something focused upon him on both February 28th and March 1st (this year- dinner at a restaurant of his choosing one day, pizza and DVDs on the other), plus have an extended family get together on a different day. On the years that his birthday is part of the calendar, we celebrate on February 29th and take a vacation that year. That means next year, a leap year, we are going on vacation to celebrate. He'd love to go to the Holy Land, but I'm just not seeing that happen. I had always thought that the trip on his 12th birthday year would be Space Camp, but it might be Rome next year. That is much more do-able than the Holy Land financially, yet meets his desire for a grand pilgrimage. Plus we have a friend studying at the North American College, so we could visit him and, if he has time, maybe get him to show us around a bit - then the trip might avoid being thoroughly coated with the aroma of touristiness (my own word, but you get the idea).
I wonder if at twelve he'll be able to really appreciate a trip to Rome. Don't get me wrong - I know he'll be over the moon appreciative if we go to Rome. I'm just wondering if there might be a depth to such a trip that he might miss and never capture during a subsequent trip (if there might be one) because it wasn't grasped the first time. Yet, I really hesitate to squash healthy interest/enthusiasm related to God and, by extension/inclusion, the Church. There is all of this year and a large portion of 2008 to figure out our plans. Who knows what will be going on next year?! Peace. ~~~mary

Joy filled Moments of Thanks

I was feeling horribly today - beyond miserable. A morning migraine refused to recede and was immune to all medication, blood sugar was way off, muscles non compliant, and the chronic pain refused to be ignored. On top of it all, I was keenly aware of how far I fall short of being the ideal wife. Ha! Almost an oxymoron - or something - ideal wife, when used in reference to me. By the time we left for Confession and Mass I was in a very negative mindset.
It seemed that every time I spoke to God I was apologizing for some facet of my being. All during Mass I never lost sight of my unworthiness. There was an underlying sense of gratefulness, but it was almost obscured by the unworthiness.
Having received Communion, I bowed my head and began to tell God how sorry I was for how lacking I was. As I was winding up to expand upon the subject, I became awash with a sense of joy. Pure blissful white light joy. How loving is our Lord. How absolutely, incredibly, fabulous is our Lord and God. The rest of my Communion prayer was one of thanks - joy filled thanks. Peace.

Race and Abortion

Racism and eugenics fuel Planned Parenthood

Washington DC, Mar 1, 2007 / 05:21 pm (CNA).- Racism surrounding the abortion rate must be recognized and stopped, said Day Gardner, president of National Black Pro-Life Union. “The eugenic policies of the founder of Planned Parenthood, Margaret Sanger, appear to be alive and well and still directed at black women,” she charged in a press release.
Gardner was responding to a Feb. 26 press release on Reproductive Rights and African-American Women issued the previous day by abortion advocate Ipas. In addition to discussing the history between blacks and abortion, Ipas listed reasons for black American women to take part in the abortion movement. It claimed the high rate of abortions among black women was reason enough to warrant their greater involvement and support.
According to the Alan Guttmacher Institute, the research arm of Planned Parenthood Federation of America, more than 90 percent of all abortion providers are located in metropolitan areas. Planned Parenthood, America’s leading abortion promoter and provider, identifies its core clients as young women, low-income women, and women of color.
According to Gardner: “The abortion industry purposefully targets the African American community. The question is why? The abortion industry places abortion clinics in our minority and poor neighborhoods to “coax us” into thinking abortion is the best answer — the only answer to an unwanted or unplanned pregnancy — and we ask why?
“Black women don’t have to kill our children to have productive, successful lives. Instead of embracing the ‘right to kill’ our children in the name of reproductive choice, we should be working to ensure that each and every African American child is given every opportunity—to experience life—to prove herself/himself—to become part of our rich cultural heritage—to change the world—and maybe also to save it.”
Since 1973, more than 44 million unborn children have been legally killed in this country; of these, almost 15 million of them were black. Abortion is the number one killer of African Americans — killing more black people than all other deaths combined, Gardner states.
African-American women make up only 13 percent of the United States population of women who are of child-bearing age, yet 37 percent of all abortions are performed on black women. The abortion rate among black women is more than three times higher than that of white women. “It is not whether black women have access to reproductive ‘choices’,” said Gardner. “But rather: Why they are fooled into thinking that they have to make a choice to destroy their child at all. Why have so many black women bought into the lie that their children, born in inner cities, are less deserving of life?"

I promise you that I have not placed the above article in this blog to take up space, making me look more productive; instead, it is here because the information contained in it isn't heard. It isn't heard because Planned Parenthood has done a fine job over the years drawing in compassionate people with rhetoric that masks the truth. Who can criticize a group's campaign to make every child wanted? Of course, every child should be wanted and cared for as a fulfilled desire; however, slaughtering roughly 1,500,000 children yearly is a perverse way in which to achieve that goal.
To assert that a woman's poverty is a valid reason for a child to be torn from her mother's womb is a way to say that poor people are not worthy of life. The argument that giving a pregnant woman the choice to slaughter her baby will somehow improve her life is absurd - if she was poor when she walked in an abortion mill, she will be poor as she leaves. She will have gained nothing, but lost much - beginning with the fee for the abortion and ending with the incalculable value of the life lost in the heart wrenching death of the flesh of her flesh. Soul scarred and mind battered, she will return to a life that cannot be left behind.
I come to this subject having been a "liberal" for quite a time. It had seemed to be a no-brainer that everyone has a right to every option in every situation. I mean, who was I to force my opinion onto anyone else? I thought that such a stance was a way to lovingly empower others. That type of thinking is a matter of living life at surface level.
To truly love someone is to dive into the act of living. It is loving to tell a person that they can't always do what seems right in a moment. It is loving to help someone to see beyond herself. It is loving to let a frightened girl know that she, and the life within her are of great value. It is loving to educate women so that they may experience the joy of life rather than avoid that reality out of ignorance and fear. It is loving to support pregnancy centers, along with other community initiatives.
It is a crying shame that "liberating" a woman from her pregnancy is often the result of societally imposed self-loathing that an abortion will only acerbate.
I'm not sure that I've communicated what I wanted to say. Hopefully the article will speak to you. Killing an innocent being should never be an option. To prey upon people by telling them that you only wish to help them is beyond disturbing - to do so to individual groups because they don't fit your perception of what is "good" is despicable and beyond all reasoning. To profit from it is unconscionable. Peace.

Lent

A time of passion forestalled; a time to make pure.
We know what is coming; we've been here before.
Tears long since dried will course again.
Our Lord and Master pays the price, though free from sin.


Peace.

Left in Thought

Saw a young teenage girl wearing a t-shirt that said "Abortion is Homicide" this evening.
My first reaction was that it was cool to see such a direct statement roaming the aisles of Walmart - I half thought of approaching her and telling her that I appreciate her boldness. I then began to wonder about her - wonder why she was wearing the shirt; wonder from where her conviction came; wonder about the depth of her conviction; wonder if it was worn more as a way for a teen to get in society's face than to educate or save lives; wonder if her family discusses such subjects; wonder if anyone had ever approached her about what the t-shirt said. As I wondered, during the time that I could have directly approached her, she, her mother and her sister turned down an aisle that removed them from my sight.
Now I wonder how many others she and her shirt left in thought. Peace.

Blessings

Hey! I have a question for you - must items that are considered sacramentals be blessed by a priest? Out of all the things of a religious nature on my computer desk, only two have been blessed. The holy water, obviously, and the monstrance pin.
I recently heard a priest say that such items ought to be blessed. I've never had a statue blessed. Does that mean that the 30 of so statues that we own are somehow "unholy." Gads, I hope not. Am I committing some sort of sin of omission? Ought I gather them with the holy cards, pictures and medals - perhaps, fill a car trunk - and take them to our parish rectory so that they might be properly blessed. I can just see my pastor's reaction. "Ah, Mary..." He'd say, not knowing that I wanted to remain anonymous in this blog - I really don't mind, because, after all, there has to be more than just one Mary to every parish.

To continue:

"Ah, Mary..." he'd say, "What do we have here?" Trying to look as innocent (read "simple" here) as I could, I'd respond, "Sacramentals, Father." He'd pause, realize that he had paused too long and then give a thoughtful, "Hmmmm," while stroking his newly acquired beard. "And what might they be for?" "Well, Father I think of them as holy reminders. They are of or about people or things to which I feel a connection or wish to emulate. In general."

Yes, I know that my spoken language has some serious flaws, but anyway...

A momentary flash of irritation would cross his face because I had given a standard reply for a few sacramental, not a trunk load, but that look would quickly turn noncommittal. "Ah, yes, I see," he'd say hesitatingly, but not so hesitantly as he would have when he was first stationed at our parish a year and a half ago, "but why is it that they are here," he'd pause before continuing, "in your trunk?" The poor man. I don't think it would be much better if I went about it by getting ten items blessed everytime I attend Mass for the next few years either.
Perhaps, I could covertly travel throughout our diocese, and the neighboring one in the next state, having random priests blessing whatever I bring before them. I'd bow my head and ask for a blessing, give thanks and turn, never to be seen again. That just might work. I'd be surreptitiously righting the nature of my chatchkes and bobbles; ridding my relics of wrongfulness. OOOOooooo! Might I have come upon my mission in life?! Double "OOOOooooo!!" Peace.

Blah, Blah, Blogging

Argghhhhh.
What do I have to write?
I have nothing worth saying.
Since this is a Lenten chore, perhaps I should try to focus on something holy, religious, spiritual or, at the very least, nice.
Hmmmmm...
Ahhh...
Ummmm...
Let's see. Well...
As I look on my computer desk I see seven statues: the Last Supper, St. Padre Pio, St. Martin De Porres, Our Lady of Guadalupe, Our Lady of Grace, the Infant of Prague and the Sacred Heart of Jesus. Holy cards and family pictures cover the windows of the upper door. A finger rosary on a cord dangles from that door's knob along with an organza bag that contains religious medals from around the world. Other objects on the desk are: a crucifix, an etched glass cube of Pope John Paul II, a monstrance pin, a bottle of holy water, a "Pray, Hope and Don't Worry" bi-stand, five religious medals, a bas relief of the Blessed Mother holding the infant Jesus, a framed Divine Mercy picture, and a photo of lit votive candles. As for books - a Bible,The Seven Story Mountain, The Divine Mercy Diary, Praying in the Presence of our Lord with Padre Pio, and Wisdom of the Desert.
My son once told me that if anyone came to our house and looked around that they'd be able to tell that we are Catholic. After doing that inventory of the computer desk surface, I'm thinking that they wouldn't have to do too much looking to figure that one out. Even though it may sound like the computer desk has been set up as a mini-shrine or something, it really doesn't look that way. All of those things are mingled with CDs, framed family photos, coupons, medication, bills, address labels, a cup of filled with pens & pencils, another holding spare change - there is even a container of dental floss (I must remember to put that away). In a way, the computer desk could be said to be a metaphor for my life - a conglomeration of many things. My life is about God, family, and the mundane things of everyday. Like the dental floss, not all of it is in it's proper place, but one day I hope it will be. Peace.

Today's Gospel Reading

When the devil had finished every temptation, he departed from Him [Jesus] for a time. (Luke 4:13)

Have you ever had it happen that you overcome a spiritual hurdle and find that for a period of time that your growth toward God seems almost tangible; that the draw toward our God is unencumbered for a time? I've experienced it that way before and when it has happened it has felt like I've literally been filled with the Holy Spirit - filled from the core outward. I wonder if that is, on a much higher level, how Jesus felt in the desert when the devil left Him alone.
The very next line of scripture notes that "Jesus returned to Galilee in the power of the Spirit..."
Does that mean that He was awash in the glory of His father? Was His heart full yet light? Were His thoughts tumbling about, yet amazingly cohesive?
I imagine so. And then some. Peace.

Bonus Hours

At any moment the quiet will be shattered. The dogs will bark and feet will stomp through the door. But, I'll tell you what - I don't care. I have spent the last 3 1/2 hours as bonus hours. Wahoo!!! I had the house to myself when I normally wouldn't have.

Don't get me wrong. Irregardless of how I made the last entry sound, my life is not bad. But I do so love not having to be the nerve center of the house.

I am made very happy this evening by the fact that my husband is with our son at an activity our son really enjoys. I love the fact that my husband has taken him because it is a big deal for him to not be watching the TV and this is a distinctly Catholic thing that my Methodist husband is doing. It is a father/son/father activity in that it is dads and sons hanging out with a priest. Bill pretty much dislikes these evenings, but is doing it anyway - so it is a big deal. He was not raised to put himself aside for the better good, but is there so doing. For the last two or three years, Scott has said he wants to be a priest. So, Catholic geek that he is, he loves to do anything connected to the Church. Going to a seminary and praying the office, then playing dodge ball, followed by pizza and maybe hearing a seminarian talk about his vocation - that's good livin' in my boys world and I feel so lucky that is how he is!

There it is - the barking has begun. Gotta go. Peace.

Oh, I almost forgot to add this - and imagine, I am the household nerve center (scattered memory & all --- lol) - I offer the following pray for vocations in thanksgiving for this nice evening:

Mary, humble servant of God Most High,the Son to whom you gave birth has made you the servant of humanity.
Your life was a humble and generous service.
You were servant of the Word when the angel announced to you the divine plan of salvation.
You were servant of the Son, giving him life and remaining open to his mystery.
You were servant of Redemption, standing courageously at the foot of the Cross, close to the Suffering Servant and Lamb,who was sacrificing himself for love of us.
You were servant of the Church on the day of Pentecost and with your intercession you continue to generate her in every believer, even in these, our difficult and troubled times.
Let the young people of the third millennium look to you, young daughter of Israel,who have known the agitation of a young heart when faced with the plan of the Eternal God.
Make them able to accept the invitation of your Son to give their lives wholly for the glory of God.
Make them understand that to serve God satisfies the heart,and that only in the service of God and of His kingdom do we realize ourselves in accordance with the divine plan, and life becomes a hymn of glory to the Most Holy Trinity.
Amen.
Prayer written by Pope John Paul II for World Day of Prayer for Vocations, 11 May 2003

Be it done unto me according to thy word

Last night I blew a gasket. Really lost it. So often do I need to tell myself that God is in control and that things always work out astonishingly "right." I am blessed - very blessed - and I know it. Yet, rather than not troubling my mind about things, I get really bent out of shape about things that don't make sense. Boy, oh boy, did I ever get bend last night. I actually threw somethings in anger. I can't remember ever doing that before. In between yelling, talking to God and crying, I whipped two plastic hangers into the laundry room - breaking one. I've made headway in learning to accept things that I can't change, but I don't do well with poor hygiene soiling a load of laundry that had just been cleaned and double rinsed. If this was one of the first 1000 or so times that this person has cavalierly done as they wished without thinking of the impact upon others, I would have been able to calmly explain my difficulty. But it wasn't.
I loath thoughtlessness. Why is it that people want to live unexamined lives? It really doesn't make things easier.
When the Virgin Mary gave her fiat, was she given the grace to not get upset by things that occurred within her marriage and vocation as a mother? I can't imagine her having anger issues. Then again, maybe the reason Jesus called His mother "woman" when she wanted Him to correct the wine situation at the wedding in Cana is because, just the week before, she had yelled at Him for changing the cooking water into wine for Him and His buddies. She had told Him time and time again not to do that and she finally blew up about it. So, He was a bit irritated that she had raised her voice to Him for doing what she was then asking Him to do at the wedding.
Wouldn't it be nice to know that you could yell at your kids and they could turn out as well as that nice Jewish boy from Nazareth?
Last night's mess didn't have anything to do with my son. In fact, he was asleep when his mother raged against the machine. Did I mention that I hit the washing machine too? Yeah, another first for me. I crashed my forearms upon an inanimate object. It served as great a purpose as tossing the hangers did.
I've accepted that my house will never be whole - every project begun will never be finished. I now try to evaluate things as to whether they will do some sort of damage to my son and or his friends. A hole in the ceiling that was created to expose a leaking pipe, and the leak is now fixed, really doesn't matter. It may sound silly, but coming to that realization was a biggy for me. Once I could accept that, so many other things that are in actuality cosmetic fell in line. I now take many a situation as a way to humble me, yet I can't get past somethings and wonder what God thought of my display last night. Is it in His plan for me to accept that which I find to be vile and that could impact a child's health adversely? I don't want anyone to feel badly because I've judged their actions to be a disgusting threat to familial health, but I lost it.
Fifteen hours later and I don't know what I should have done. Fifteen hours later and I know the whole scenario might happen again, exactly the same way - again, and again. I don't know what is wanted of me. Can any of this be God's will? Peace.

Go Away Kid, You're Bothering Me

The first question my son posed to me this morning was why didn't Jesus end the world immediately after he arose from the dead. I was in the middle of making him french toast and a scrambled egg and he is questioning me about salvation. How does that make sense? There is no way I am fully awake before he leaves for school. I'm lucky if I can form cohesive thoughts before 11 AM and he wants me to reveal the inscrutable mind of God.

Please Mentally

Insert an Image

of Edvard Munch's

"The Scream"

Here

Munch's title for that picture was originally "Despair" - despair is what I feel when I'm not up to the task of being a parent. Frankly, I am often not up to that task and am most certainly not up to it while I am trying to focus upon not burning myself as I fiddle about a hot stove while in a somnambulistic state. I like to be asked important (read anything dealing w/God falls in that category) questions when not fully conscious as much as I like and want an image of "The Scream" in my blog - be sure to note that there is no such image in this blog.
In answer to his question, I asked him questions. Unfortunately, those questions generated more questions from him. Thinking of that as I type here - I have to wonder who the silly person was who first thought that it was okay, if not good, for children to participate in a dialogue. And, why did I ever think that my child should feel free to engage me in such manner?! As today's exchange evidences, that was one slippery slope that can lead a young'un to think that it is alright to speak before spoken to. Sigh. This younger generation!
In a wily manner only known to moms, I concluded the subject, gave him his breakfast (fully cooked, yet not burnt - thank you) and then sent him off to school. Peace, solitude, calm, quiet - a sense of tranquil well-being pervaded my mind. Or did it?
Nope.
I will always remember how I befuddled a college roommate when I answered her question of what I was doing as I was just laying upon my bed. At most, she thought the answer would be "nothing." The answer "thinking" perplexed her to know end. She couldn't imagine why someone would just think. As our relationship grew, she would have me tell her of trains of thoughts and how they were coupled together. As it happened, she was actually a thinker who hadn't allowed herself thought - but that isn't why I mentioned that the act of thinking baffled her. Rather, that is brought up as a way to get to the fact that I am an incorrigible thinker. I can't help myself. Something inconsequential that someone says in passing may end up, without conscious effort, being turned into a mental dissertation of some sort. Therefore, my son's dash for the bus stop didn't close the book on that line of questioning; rather it allowed for a new chapter to be opened.
My mind jumped to Revelations then pondered God permitting the devil and his evil minions to roam about the earth seeking the ruin of souls (okay, I'm slipping into a prayer to describe where my thoughts were - sorry - but it works). Why is the devil allowed to have any influence in our lives? I mean lucifer went against God. he directly - nose 2 nose - went against God. Yet he is allowed free rein. Okay, okay - temptation could be said to be essential to freewill and God wants us to freely choose Him and freewill was the focus of the son/mom conversation at that most ugly part of my day called morning, but... Why oh, why? I would love to not be willful. How often in a day do I not act in a way that is best for me and those around me?!? Then how often do I berate myself for those actions? And, because I denigrate those actions, in reality, couldn't it be said that my true will was to do that which would have been best, yet not done? Hmmmm?
I must remember to try to get in touch with my better self to find out her opinion.
Anyway, that's the type of murky black stuff that has been floating around in my grey matter today. How about you? Did you hear that today did the Feast of the Seat of Peter? Today, essentially, we celebrate the establishment of the papacy. Vive il Papem!!
In his public address on this feast day last year, Pope Benedict said:

Dear brothers and sisters, in the apse of St Peter's Basilica, as you know, is the monument to the Chair of the Apostle, a mature work of Bernini. It is in the form of a great bronze throne supported by the statues of four Doctors of the Church: two from the West, St Augustine and St Ambrose, and two from the East: St John Chrysostom and St Athanasius.
I invite you to pause before this evocative work which today can be admired, decorated with myriads of candles, and to say a special prayer for the ministry that God has entrusted to me. Raise your eyes to the alabaster glass window located directly above the Chair and call upon the Holy Spirit, so that with his enlightenment and power, he will always sustain my daily service to the entire Church. For this, as for your devoted attention, I thank you from my heart.

I can only imagine, after this troublesome year, that he would be most grateful for some extra prayers in celebration of this year's feast. May God always have the Holy Father on His mind. Peace.

The Center & Summit

I've been sitting here stumbling around with different things to talk about. If this keeps up, I may do permanent damage to my backspace key. When I first sat down I was listening to the Pope's Ash Wednesday homily. As I listened, I hoped for a topic to "Poof" pop out at me. Of course there were different aspects of the homily that could become topics, but nothing really grabbed me until he said that "the Eucharist is the center & summit of the church; the story of salvation." I quickly typed and then played it over and over in my mind. Fourteen words. Fourteen swirled around me. They smoothly moved about my mind. They undulated, tumbled and turned. Not as a twirling dizzy child might, but as a dandelion seed moves upon a gentle breeze. It was quite lovely. Really. But still, it didn't transform me into a writer. The closest I came to getting a topic out of that was that I thought of the fact that our beloved Eucharist - our salvation - is the end point of the journey that begins today and that I want to focus upon the beginning of Lent.
That is when I thought of Jesus beginning His forty days in the desert. Following His baptism, "filled with the Holy Spirit, Jesus returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit into the desert for forty days, to be tempted by the devil. He ate nothing during those days. (Luke 4:1-2)" While typing those holy words, I felt sure that passage was the place to start. Once it was upon the screen I stared at it for a moment or two. Yep, there I was - posed to stare; posed to stare for many a moment. Yet, not wishing to spend the day staring, with great determination I lept to Matthew's account.
Did you ever realize how close those accounts are? I mean they could be the result one person passing the story on to another - just one degree of separation, if you would. Therefore, I didn't gain the inspiration for which I was looking. Of course, I wondered why Jesus had to be tempted by the devil. I half thought of the physical emptiness that He experienced - looked at it in conjunction to the spiritual emptiness that exists without Him in our lives. He emptied Himself in order to prepare to fulfill prophecy - to fill us with salvific redemption. I could intellectually feel the tugging sensation, the pull, of His hunger, but still didn't come up with anything to say.
Therefore, to you dear reader, whomever you might be, I must admit that I am an empty vessel. I'm an empty vessel longing to be filled by the Master Vintner with that which is the glorious result of His most fruitful vine. Peace.

If you want to take a look at Pope Benedict XVI's 2007 Lenten Message, please use this link:
http://www.vatican.va/holy_father/benedict_xvi/messages/lent/documents/hf_ben-xvi_mes_20061121_lent-2007_en.html
If you feel like surfing the web some more, this link will take you to a pretty informative article about Ash Wednesday which includes a very nice prayer for the day:
http://www.americancatholic.org/Newsletters/CU/ac0204.asp

And the journey begins...

Okay, this is the first entry. As I stand here, posed before the bloggosphere, I have to say that I don't know what I'm doing.

This is a lenten exercise. I'm going to try to be a faithful blogger for the forty days of Lent. Although I'd like to say that I will make an entry every day, my attempts at journaling indicate that I'm desperately unfaithful to the practice of daily writing. May the Lord bless my attempts.

Today is "Shrove Tuesday" - "Fat Tuesday" - "Pancake Day" - "Mardi Gras" - the day before Ash Wednesday. In my area, Pennsylvania Dutch Country, many people make a point of eating a donut called a "fastnacht." It used to be that people would eat only the plainest of foods during Lent; therefore, baked goods were verboten for those forty days. These potato donuts were made to use up the fat and flour in households before the fast commenced. I've never made fastnachts, but like the idea of getting ready for the period in which we get ready for Easter.

This entry is my fastnacht. It may not be tasty, but it does get me prepared for this blogging task. If someone actually reads this and wants a recipe for fastnachts: http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/Nanas-Fastnachts/Detail.aspx

Although I've never made these donuts, Allrecipes.com is my favorite place to find recipes on the net and trust any recipe there that is rated favorably. Have a bit of a nosh for me! Peace.