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.