I can’t decide.   It’s late and I’m exhausted and I have a really busy day coming up tomorrow.  I feel like writing a small,  trivial, sentimental little posting tonight.   But maybe I might make a  point.

If I don’t make a point, I’m sleeping.

Here’s a sweet little photo:


Daddy got to hold the tiny little feet of his baby boy shortly after he was born.  Very prematurely.    My grandson,  Cooper,  was born prematurely too, though not this tiny.

Perfect little foot with all its toes.    Sometimes I wear a little pin of tiny feet, little perfect tiny gold feet,  to remind us of all our littlest brothers and sisters who are waiting to be born.   Cooper is 5 years old now.   This little baby in the photo is 9 months old now.

Sometimes we’re not so loving towards our littlest ones.    Our littlest ones can’t help being so tiny.      Murder is murder no matter how small the human being is.

Here is another  little one,   two years old:


I wish I could hold him and comfort him.   He looks so scared.   He looks so scared and helpless.

The Islamists who were handling him burned him alive shortly after this photo was taken   

His little face haunts me.   May God comfort him now.

I didn’t know where I’m  going with this posting.    Maybe back to the Middle East because I have another photo somewhere to show you.     It would take too long to find that photo,  but it would be of a young, happy, holy priest in a long black cassock – on a trampoline with a bunch of kids.   I have another photo of him giving a “Horsey-Back ride to a little child who was happy and giggling as they galloped around.

We were at a party that day,  given for this young priest in the long black cassock. *    I gave him a little book for a present:  The Imitation of Christ,  the book that has been read with great profit by uncountable numbers of men and women.   It’s a heart-to-heart talk,  Jesus and you.  How to live like Christ and be holy like Him.

I don’t know if the young priest ever read my book,  but all who know him know he has become very holy,  totally focused on Christ and His Church and all of the people he knows.    Dedicated and holy for us.   He is admired and loved.

And he has just volunteered to go to Iraq to help the Christians in danger there.   Like that little boy in the photo, and his family.

A plea I read recently from a priest or bishop over there:  “For Christ’s sake,  you in America,  help us!  Send help or there will not be any more Christians left!”

A historical note:   Christianity first thrived and grew in the Middle East and in Northern Africa:    Damascus,   Antioch,  Caeserea,  Cappodocia,    Joppa,  Petra,   Alexandria,  Edessa,  Smyrna . . .   so many places.    So many wise men born out of these areas.

So many  Christian lives snuffed out now.

Sure, we accept “refugees” from this area,  but the Barack Hussein person was raised a Sunni Muslim.     Of all the refugees America he has received recently,   0.04% are Christian. I’ve read other slightly different numbers,  but Christians are always less than 1%.

Too late for the scared  little boy in the photo.



If you’d like to pray specifically for his soul,  for his courage,  for his holiness,  for his aid,   his name is Father Gawronsky.    I hope you never read his name in the newspapers.


Explore posts in the same categories: 2016 Issues, Persecution of Christians

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