Archive for the ‘Death’ category

“NUNCA MAS!” – A VERY PERSONAL DAY

October 10, 2017

(A meditation recorded for myself.   Important info.)

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October 10.      The day the Christian world remembers that remarkable man, St. Francis de Borgia.

The training of St. Francis:

Born to a family of status and responsibility with the wealth and royal connections to be able to carry out those responsibilities,   Francis was brought up in a loving family under stern tutors and attentive spiritual directors to train him in the abilities – and attitudes – that would make him a good leader in his area of Spain.

He was trained in the courtly skills of competitive physical games,  swordsmanship,   dancing;   he loved music,  he really loved ball games (alas,  not football exactly,  but the equivalent of it – and I understand him!  I take that personally! )  He loved literature, and above all he took his faith seriously, which,   by my own personal experience,    enhances and adds new enjoyment to everything you like to do.

The character of St Francis:

You can give a child a lot of good opportunities, a lot of good attention,  a lot of good education,  but you can’t make him become a good person,  unless the young man is wise and willing and disciplines himself according to the worthy things he’s being taught.

What’s more important?  Where do you find a balance between demanding,  severely demanding,   that a child learn well and develop a good character, on the one hand,  and giving him the freedom to develop himself, on the other hand?    That is called the Art of parenting,  the Art of teaching,  the Art of spiritual counsel. . . .

Well, it all worked together in the case of St. Francis de Borgia.

The adult life of St. Francis:

Born in 1510, in Catalonia, by the time Francis was 33 years old  he had taken on adult duties, was a trusted and valuable government official,  married and  fell  deeply in love with his wife, and had eight children,  never turning away from God or his Catholic faith in all that he did.

Being a good man does not keep tragedy away,  and soon, in his young adult life,  tragedy struck.   His beloved wife died,  in spite of constant fasting,  supplications,  prayers and mortifications in his private chapel.   Those particular prayers were not answered.    As we can imagine,  it caused some very deep thinking.

Francis had continuing duties in the court of Charles V, including accompanying the beautiful Empress Isabella at various times.   She was well-loved and respected.  St. Francis admired her  piety but was also impressed by her beauty,  her popularity,  her skill at carrying out royal duties.

Nunca Mas (*) ! –

This is the famous statement of St. Francis.   It came about by this:   the beautiful Isabella died.    A national tragedy and  a personal one for St. Francis.    After a state funeral,  her body had to be transported to the royal burial city –  transported through hot weather, for several days, through uncertain roads, and heavily  guarded .   St Francis was given the honorable and serious responsibility of not only helping to guard, but also to be the one trusted royal courtier to identify the body once it arrived at its destination.

After hot jiggly days in the wagon that had carried her coffin,  St. Francis had to look upon the beautiful Isabella – who was by now a half-decomposed corpse.   Of course Francis knew what he might see  . . .  but actually experiencing the horrifying disfigured face of the Lady he had served . . .  that is what changed his life.

If all the beauty and riches and power of this world come to . . .  this terrifying and revolting object,    then St. Francis decided to put away all the time and effort that he had used to serve the things that this passing world  thinks is important.

Career?  Career advancement?  Education?  Sophistication?   Beauty?   Riches?   Talent?

It all becomes what St. Francis saw in the coffin.

From then on his attention changed;  and writings and his influence became, by our standards,  severe and stern, and focused on our preparation for the Next World.

It is at that point in his life that I became acquainted with St.  Francis de Borgia,  shortly after I finally  entered the Church.     It took me way too long to go in,  but when I did,  my mind, my life, my opportunities, my future,   everything opened up for me!   (Much to my surprise!)

One thing upon becoming Catholic, is that all the saints before you,  named and unnamed,  canonized and uncanonized,  all become available, as inspiration,  guides,  teachers,  helpers,  coaches,  encouragers,

Two came to my mind:  St. Francis de Borgia was one.  Stern,  severe words that point the way to the loving faithfulness of God our Savior.

What’s not to like (for me?)     Music,  literature, a thorough education,  a career in which you’re responsible for the well-being and development of other people.  Football!  (or ball games),   sports and vigorous physical training,   but then the Reality that put it all in perspective:   “Nunca mas”   St Francis tells us….  “No more” – “No more of this” –  No more putting these things first, all these things that lead only to death and corruption.

I’m going to die, personally speaking.  Might be at an outdoor music concert.   Might be out on the “wild western roads” I love to drive.   Might be an  accident or a disease.    I had a dream a long time ago, a dream-vision of being shot in the chest by a small Chinese man in a brown uniform.    Don’t know what that means.  The dream ended abruptly.

St. Francis has told me, reminds me every day,  that some things are not so important,  not as important as making sure you that you will  go to heaven.  No more try to please the world –  Nunca mas! –  but live so that you are pleasing to God, the One who gave you your life in the first place.

Omigosh!   Life in this world becomes so much larger then!

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And another big thank you to Mr. Y for sending me a third-class relic,  which  “warns”  every day . . . .     (I miss your blog.)

 

*  Nunca mas voy a servir a un maestro que conduce a la muerte . . .  (something like that)

 

 

 

 

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LIFE’S A MESS — TAKE HEART

August 14, 2017

(A message  – to me  –  about lambs and lamb’s wool . . .   and death to come.)

Sometimes life seems a mess,  a complicated, tangled mess.    We get to feeling like that once in a while.     We get a lot of “cares”   and loose ends swirling around in our minds.

Alligator Wrong Side

Doesn’t take much sometimes.    As we work and learn and think —  still, everything doesn’t fall into place, and those loose ends don’t get tucked neatly away,  not even at the end . . . .     Most of us will come to the end of our lives with not all things fitting together and making sense.

Alligator Inside Out

 

Of course,  our Maker is seeing a different pattern developing.

Alligator Right Side

Cute little alligator sweater for Cooper!

I didn’t create the pattern or write the directions for the alligator.     I needed a chart for  guidance.  I needed Guidance.

It’s very soft.     I’m using something similar to lamb’s wool.

But I myself am no smarter about life than a little lamb, soft and vulnerable, in the middle of a great green pasture.

Lamb in pasture

I didn’t make the pasture,   I didn’t even put myself here,  and I don’t know everything that I’m supposed to do here,  but my Creator is the One who, with a gentle shepherd’s hand,  made me and placed me here . . .  and watches to see what I’ll do.

Everything will be provided —

lamb and water

Delicious green grass,  water,  companionship,  and Guidance.

I don’t have to solve the problems of the whole world.       I don’t even have to anticipate everything that’s going to happen.     (“Those who wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength . . .”   Isaiah 40:31)      Even when   Especially when I don’t understand certain things,   there will be strength to go on.

The Good Shepherd is looking down on the life He gave us, with great care and attention, so when things get complicated  we need to just “stay where he put us.”

lamb waiting

 

Although for us humans that means being active, learning, doing, walking in His ways,   and it might look like we’re making a mess,  He is seeing our pattern forming,  from the “Other Side,” so to speak,    and when He sees that we have made our choices,  for or against Him,  with or without Him,  He’ll know when our time is up —  we are who we are going to be.

 

lamb no lamb

 

—  and we’ll be taken out of this beautiful pasture Earth.

And then stand before Him . . . .

 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, R.I.P.

August 4, 2017

Beloved son.    

Today is his first birthday.   He’d be one year old.

charlies face

 

Mother and son.

charlied and medal

 

Cherished and wanted.

charlies parents

 

His name is Charlie Gard, and his “mistake”  was to be born with a mitochondrial disease  which makes him  “unwanted”   and “not”  valuable   —  to the State.  Doesn’t matter which country  because this kind of State authority is developing in all Western nations where Christian values are being destroyed.

(In Judeo-Christian cultures,  the helpless, the poor, the sick, the needy, the unwanted are given attention, love,and care.    “As you do it unto the least of my brethren,  you do it unto Me.”    Undeniably, that teaching originated with Jesus.    Remove Jesus,  and you invariably lose  His  teaching. )

This loved and cherished son was dying of his disease,  but the State would not allow his parents to take him to doctors in the United States where there was the possibility that his life could be saved.  U.S.  doctors are researching this disease and hold out some hope.

But Charlie’s State authority would not let him take advantage of the research.   The parents applied for “permission”  to take their own son to the United States,  and they did not get any answer other than no,  until Charlie’s condition had become so much worse that even modern research would likely not be able to help.

Both British and European Union  Court authorities imposed the full strength of their authority against Charlie and his parents.

So Charlie was dying.

The parents wanted to take him home, in a comfortable, personal, loving  environment for as long as his little life would last.

But the System  said they owned Charlie.     There are no parental rights.   The State-run hospital system refused to allow the parents to care for their own son.

ch medal

Charlie died,  just days short of his first birthday.

His parents,  Chris Gard and Connie Yates,  had enough money to use to travel and treat their son.   Now,  instead, they are using that money,  one and a half million dollars,  to set up a foundation to help others who struggle against both children’s disease and the loss of parental rights.

In this country,   the Barack-Hussein person and his followers put forth into our laws the Unaffordable Health Control Bill, which has far-reaching consequences,  among them the State-prescribed death of the unborn,   the very, very sick young,   the very,  very sick,  and the very, very sick elderly.      It’s too expensive to help the helpless.

The State is in control.     A very, very “sick”  State is in control.

 

 

 

I. LISTENING TO DEATH

June 22, 2017

(Unfortunately, we can hear death speak all around us)

1917 – 2017:    “… or else, Russia will spread her errors throughout the world.”

Interviewer:   “Does that include America?”

Sister Lucia:  “Yes.”

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Of course,  the  Russian people didn’t invent those errors;  the Russian-Soviet government just became expert at implementing them and spreading them into other nations —  by war and, as I said in the last post,  by the spread of economic and Cultural Marxism.

(For you old-timers,  “McCarthyism has come to mean a hysterical search for “communists”  under every bed, in every closet.  However,  when Soviet documents were released in the mid-90s,  it came to light that Senator McCarthy hadn’t been aware of even half of the communist infiltrators into our society.)

Economic and Cultural Marxism:   They bring ruin wherever they are spread.

Venezuela ran out of basic consumer goods,  and toilet paper, and food.   The news reports that the average Venezuelan has lost about twenty pounds;  the hard way.   Here they share handfuls from a garbage bag.

soc dumpster diving

The authorities in Venezuela ran out of something too:   tear gas.

Soc tear gasd needed

They’ve used it all up trying to keep their angry, starving citizens under control and they’ve put out a request to other countries for more.    Such a beautiful country – but now you have to get permission to cross the border to buy basic goods in the next country.

The United States is heading that way into bankruptcy too.    Illinois, for example, no longer has enough money to run the government – for real.   If you buy a lottery ticket in Chicago, chances are the authorities will not be able to pay you your winnings.     Detroit?    California?    I have so many examples to give you of one-party rule because once they get into office . . .  they find ways to stay.

This isn’t a catalog of woes caused by  communism- socialism –  liberalism – the Progressives – the Democrats –  whatever they want to be called.  It’s just that the same -ism mindset leads to poverty,  oppressive laws,  control of the individual,  loss of choices,  loss of freedom,  and tyranny — and to death.

The reason is awful – ly  simple.   The ideas that begat all these -isms  were begotten themselves by the ultimate Source of death.    Suppose you rejected the Author of Life,  the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.    Suppose you began listening to the voice of God’s Enemy and your writings create a World Undone.

desk a world undone by hellish vapors

The author of all these bright new ideas that begat all the -isms that plague us today is this man,  Karl Marx.

desk marx writing

And he knew what he was doing.   He was a tortured man, and he wrote about what forces inspired his theories:

The hellish vapors rise and fill the brain

Till I go mad and  my heart is utterly changed

“See this Sword,”

the Prince of Darkness  said to me.

For me he beats the time and gives the signs

Even more boldly I play the Dance of Death.

In this, his poem,  he’s telling us that he listened to the Prince of Darkness.    And further,  he tells us that he knows  the consequences:

 Thus heaven I’ve forfeited

I know it full well

My soul, once true to God,

Is chosen for Hell.

He played the Dance of Death and gave that Dance to the world.

Death follows.   Then Hell.

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Can we turn away from Death and begin following the principles of Life?

No.  apparently not.    Not on our own power.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A HEARTBEAT AWAY

June 9, 2017

(Blogging has given me some bad habits;   it’s created an urge to take a picture of everything and blog blab about it.)

We’re  all only a heartbeat away from a very serious crisis —

Hospital cr

Chances are you’re having  ordinary days right now;  some good days and  some bad days in which you have to deal with a flat tire,  a lost checkbook,  a missed text,   a bad attitude from a friend . . . .

Today we here in The Spruce Tunnel were struck with a very serious crisis.   Someone we love, someone so close to our family she may as well be a part of it,  someone far too young to be in critical condition,  is on a ventilator and many other machines in the photo,  seemingly  overnight.

Cause soon to be determined.

One day she is interviewing for a brand-new job;  less than two days later she’s in ICU fighting for her life.

Out of the blue,  unexpectedly, we are all reassessing our lives,  our relationships,  our loves,  and what’s really important.     We have a God-given need to make sense out of things.

And the honest quest for answers will lead back to God.

 

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Please pray for the young lady.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ASCENSION CONSIDERATIONS

May 26, 2017

Ascension Thursday this week.  40 days after the Resurrection.   (40,  not 43.)  It’s a Feast Day of Hope.

The older I get,  the more I realize “I’m not getting out of here alive.”   I’m leaving this planet via my death.   Here’s that picture again:

“Will this be me?”    —

SAMSUNG

I’ve already been the one sitting at the bedside of a dying man,  worrying and praying.   Soon, possibly,   it will  be my turn to be the one in bed.      And yours too.

(Sometimes some of my friends hear me say  “Pray for my healing; pray for my health.”   I say it offhandedly,  but few realize how serious I am.)

But though I am a Christian,  and my health matters aside,   I live a somewhat safe life in this country.    My Christian brothers and sisters around the world are not so “lucky.”

A little while ago in the Philippines,  where lovely, peaceful,  beautiful,  friendly Christians live in a sort of tropical  Paradise,  nine Christian  men driving in  cars  were stopped by the   Muslim-“extremists   who are gaining power-by-force on their  beautiful islands.   They were stopped,  dragged out of their cars,   their hands were all tied together,  and the nine men were shot to death.

Youd better believe

See their hands all tied to one another?

They were executed because they were Christians who happened to be on the road at the same time as these Muslims  (who were carrying ISIS flags).

The government is trying to  stop the violence and to stop the drug money that finances these Muslim terrorists.

what war looks like

Sometimes strong and forceful  (violent)  measures have to be taken to eradicate the murderous Threat that has taken hold in a country.  This is what such a “war”  would look like in such a country.  The civilian cars must give way so the military can do its duty to protect.

It’s what a government is supposed to be doing:  protecting its citizens with resources that only it,  the government,  can assemble.

Today,  the head of our DHS  (Dep’t of Homeland Security)  stated publicly:  “If you knew what  I know,  you would be afraid to leave your homes.”   If we had his information about the actual  threats we were under . . . .

Again,  so far  I  live in such seemingly safe circumstances that I can afford to stay ignorant of the severity of the danger.   I can ignore it,  if I want to,  even as more and more people are saying things seem to be spinning out of control,  and  it feels like “something”  big is going to happen.

So,  I’ll just repeat:   I’m not going to get out of here alive!

Jesus did not.     Jesus did not “get out of here alive.”     He laid down His life for us;  He took up His life again at His Resurrection.   And He took His Resurrected body  “up” into  the “heavenly  places.”

He who was seen by many is now unseeable.

But Eternity is all around us.  It penetrates this world.   Or, as I kept saying this morning to my class:  Eternity interpenetrates our world.    The spirit in us is able perceive this presence of Eternity.    That is,  Jesus,  Eternal, can now be perceived by everyone, not just those who stood next to Him so long ago in one small part of this globe.   All  of us can,  “whosoever”  wants to.

Ascension

As  He ascended,  He took with Him something very important:  His human nature.   The same as our human nature.    He made it possible for all  those creatures with a human nature can also enter into Heaven.

It’s possible.

I dearly hope those Christian children and mothers on the school bus today and  those  young Filipinos with their hands tied together took comfort in the meaning of the Ascension as they lay dying.

Christians are those who have chosen to follow Jesus,   through whatever and wherever  He leads us.    It’s our cross,  the way that leads us to Heaven.   Executed.   Blown up.   Needless accidents.   Sickness.    Ascension Day tells us that we can follow Him into glory.   It’s possible.

Follow crosses to Heaven

“It’s needful for you that I go.”     Behold,  I go to prepare a place for you.”     “In my Father’s house are many mansions.  If it were not so,  I would have told you.”

We can pray for the souls of our Christian brothers and sisters who’ve left this world so violently.    And perhaps  “before their time.”  And for their loved ones,  left behind to mourn.

 

 

JUST LIKE ME – BUT NO MORE

April 12, 2017

Gloomy Cloud

Bit of a funk tonight.   It’s what I read in the news this morning.  Good things happened today;  happy things happened;   and something very beautiful (in nature)  happened —  but the funk returned.

Appropriately.

It’s Wednesday,  the day when we must keep on fighting to get over the rest of the “hump”  of this week, or of  these times.  Our hump being the alignment of advancing Islam with growing  Global Rule  . . . .

So here’s what I read this morning:

A lady,  just like me, just about my age.

She’s a tourist,  just like I am  sometimes.

She was alone, by herself,  far from home, as I am sometimes.

Stopped off to see an interesting building in a suburb,  just like I’ve done at times.    Sometimes I choose a hotel in a  nice suburb off an expressway.  A nice suburb.

The interesting building was known for its graffiti, which we now call “art work.”  So she took her camera out . . .     Just like I do sometimes.

She was busy taking pictures,  probably intent on choosing the right angle, the right composition,  the best lighting.     Just as I like to do.

And someone came up from behind her and stabbed her several times in the back and neck – he got her carotid artery.    She died – just about right away.

The attacker was a man who had recently come into that country – as a “refugee.”

She was an American in Paris,  in a nice suburb in Paris.

Could have been like any other American woman you know.   Don’t think you can tell your Mom to stay home and be safe,  not if she wants to travel.   Or your sister.  Or your daughter.

This woman was probably a nice, ordinary lady , and now she is no more.

The attacker has been arrested;  but  the story is not over:  there are millions more to take his place.

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Oh.    Would you like  a picture?   Here’s one that connects me with that American lady in Paris.   It’s a sign that is not too far from my home.

Advancing islam j

 (misspelling in the picture not mine.)

About an hour and a half away from my home.

I’m thinking,  I don’t even have to be a tourist.

SPACE JUNK FOLLOW-UP

February 15, 2017

(Just in case any of you  like science   or technology or . . .   freedom.)

Remember the picture in the last post showing what all the space junk in orbit around our earth would look like?

space-junk-over-earth

That “space junk”  is doing things, we know.

Well,  there’s a follow-up in the news today,  kind of an “addition.”    The headlines for the article from Wired . com   reads:  “88 New Satellites Will Watch Earth All The Time  All The Places.”   

The 88 new satellites from the company called “Planet”  (and they’re buying more)  will be “imaging”   the earth and everything on it.   The article concludes by saying that every day the entire land mass of the planet will be photographed and databased.     Every day.  The whole planet.

And there is a long list of people, entities,  corporations, and government offices who are buying this information.

Word for the day:      Luddite  –   Not liking all this technology.   

I’m  not a Luddite, probably, but I just can’t think of one technological  “advance”   that has a net positive effect on human society.      (That is,  add up both columns,  positive and negative,  compare,  and the negative columns will be greater,  slightly greater or massively greater.)

Don’t tell me the medical industry is a positive.    We should have done it all differently,  focusing on  the health of the person ,  not on  the disease.    Health officials take care of the disease,  not the person.   How much do you think medical “advances” are worth?

How much of a price would you put on these cute little twins?

twins

Healthy little twins.    Just beginning to smile and get social.    How much do you think they were worth to their parents and family?

The world was recently  relieved of the presence of these little ones.

The medical industry declared that they were Sexually Active.     

They were vaccinated to death.    Routine vaccines.   Routinely too many at once.   Including the vaccine for a disease you catch  after  doing the “marital act”  with multiple partners – people  like lotharios,   prostitutes, and nymphomaniacs.

The medical industry thought these infants were a pair of immoral sluts.

Net positive effect?     Not if they were my babies.   America has the highest infant mortality rate of the industrialized  (technological)  world.

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.*    (It can be found here, but take out the spaces:      https://www . wired . com/2017/ 02 /88-tiny-satellites-will-watch-time-everywhere/

(Take out five spaces, I think.   Copy and paste and then take out the spaces if you want to read the whole article.)

DEATH AT ADVENT

November 28, 2016

I should entitle this posting “Not-So Fun With Insomnia.”    Sometimes,  even though you do finally get enough sleep,  it takes a physical toll on your hoped-for activities.   Consequently,  I missed posting about the beginning of Advent.

But now I have another consideration to add to my Advent thoughts.

funeral-w-coffin

A dear friend,  a member of one of my classes who had become “elderly”  during all these years she had been a part of us,  has died,  on this first day of Advent.   I just found out a few hours ago.

Advent is a time of   anticipating the  long-promised coming of the Messiah, the Christ and the great promises that are given to us.

funeral

And so Advent is  a celebration of the actual  Incarnation of  the Second Person of the Trinity, True God,  mankind’s only Savior.      We “anticipate”  by making sure we are the kind of people, individually the kind of person,  we ought to be in order to worthily welcome His coming.

Advent is because all Promises from God finally do come to an end in their fulfillment.    Both the First Coming of the Messiah and  (soon?)  the Second Coming of the Messiah, our Savior.   And because our individual lives will also come to an end.

This could be very bad news.  Who wants to think about the reality of his own death?   Life is over.   Finis.    No more second chances;  no more do-overs;  no more  . . .  anything.    As with our friend today.

This could be very bad news –   but for the efficacious saving work of the Messiah on His Cross, pouring out Love and Compassion for us,  and offering the possibility of Life Everlasting.

Isn’t  Death  just a part of Life?     Well, not like that.     Life comes from the Living Creator of Life.      He gives us existence.  He gives us Life.

Wisdom   1: 13-15   
 God did not make death,
and he does not delight in the death of the living.
[14] For he created all things that they might exist,
and the generative forces of the world are wholesome,
and there is no destructive poison in them;
and the dominion of Hades is not on earth.
[15] For righteousness is immortal.

God did not make Death, according to the Bible,  and He’s not happy about it,   but He did conquer Death and defeat its power and “sting.”

Our friend knew this.    From our point of view, she is dead.    But she has Life now:   Life from Life.   Her Life from His.

My goodness!!      On this Advent,  this beginning of a whole new Liturgical Year,  our friend passed from this life into a whole new LIfe!!

Let’s go back to the Bible, to the book of Wisdom again:

Wisdom 3: 1-3

The souls of the righteous are in the hand of God,
and no torment shall touch them.
2 They seemed, in the view of the foolish, to be dead;
and their passing away was thought an affliction
3 and their going forth from us, utter destruction.
But they are in peace.

THAT’S  what we’re doing during Advent.      Preparing for our End.     Preparing for Everlasting Peace from the Prince of Peace.

Only One,  for us men,   the Messiah,  Christ.

clip-advent-1

FUZZY MOON

November 15, 2016

My photo of the Super Moon:

super-moon

It wasn’t quite dark.   It wasn’t too high in the sky.   It was a little misty,  a little hidden behind branches, and it wasn’t super-sharp clear like some great  photos  I’ve seen on TV.

But I decided I like my photo anyway.

Soft and indistinct.

Like a lot of the things I know about.    So much I know about but don’t have a clear sharp understanding of.

Maybe I’m weary.  Maybe I’ve been reading too many of my favorite action-adventure spy-vs.-spy special forces kind of novels — where there is a lot of death and dying.    Maybe I’ve seen too many mean-spirited and violent people in the protest videos in the news.  Death and threats of death everywhere.

And now the coming of Thanksgiving week,  where birth met death in our family in 2010.  Cooper was born ,”untimely,”   unexpectedly premature,  but in time to be placed in Hubbie’s arms,  in his hospital bed,  as he lay dying.

SAMSUNG

Little Hand Holding Big Hand

We were “indistinct”   about that too.   Perhaps supernaturally protected from too many acute emotions,  like the soft, comforting lighting on the way to Hubbie’s room.

cc-tunnel-cr

Hospital Hallway

I don’t understand much about death.  I know we have to go through the process of death in order to  get to Eternal Life.    I know there will be a horrible state of affairs for many who die,  but a wonderful and glorious state of affairs for those who have come to know their Creator — before they die.

Our Creator didn’t create death,  but He made provision for all of us who have to face death.   Stick with Him,  on His terms,  and we’ll be all right.

But what is this process that causes so much grief and loss and uncertainty?  And people who bravely say they don’t fear death —   are they kidding themselves?    Even some of our greatest, most good and holy saints have gone through periods when they fear their own imminent death.     It’s a Crossing Over, leaving everything behind that we know,  into —

The Bible says don’t be looking into things that are above your understanding.  It’s  okay if things stay fuzzy and unfocused.

moon-betw-trees

So,  maybe death is one of those things.     It happened in our family at Thanksgiving time:  Hubbie (and devoted father to my children);    and then  my own Mom just before Thanksgiving a couple years after.

We’ll probably engage in our usual  “remembering” this year,  trying to make sense of something that was never meant to be but is a common experience of all humans.  There can be much that is beautiful and true  after our death.

Best left indistinct and unclear, I suppose,  because if we give ourselves too many answers,  we won’t be open to the loveliness of Eternity that a loving , caring God has provided for us,  as it comes into our lives.  Our thoughts can hide his thoughts.

I can know that the full moon was 8% closer this month.     The last time it was this close was 69 years ago.  the next time will be in the year 2030.     But that doesn’t help me know the beauty of the soft golden glow of a misty moon, and be touched by the wonder of it all.

Lovely.

Loveliness ahead.

There is more to human life than scientific knowledge.

7. THE GOAT DIES (IN NOVEMBER)

November 3, 2016

Well,  it’s Election Day minus 7

winning

Hard to keep that Steam Kettle boiling over at a time like this.      Hey!   Life goes on.  There’s  life apart from election news . . .  and Chicago has just won the World Series.     I’ve spent a little time in Wrigley Field . . .     but  never a  win like this.   ( If you know about the Cubs,  you’ll get the reference to The Goat.   Right now,  he’s history!)

As a matter of fact, Son just texted a pretty interesting comment.   “A few moments ago,  nobody could ever say they saw the Cubs win the World Series.”    A few moments later,  we live in a whole new world:   we are people who can say  WE saw The Cubs Win the World Series.

Just like that –   the World  changes.

But it’s not easy to change our world:

Try try try

      Work hard Work hard Work hard

       Fight Fight Fight

       Hope Hope Hope

And then the moment of proof comes:

You win the World Series.

Or you win the Election.

 THE MONTH OF NOVEMBER

Or you die and enter Heaven.   

The Church has not forgotten what time of   year it is.     November has begun and we  are directed to remember all those saints in Heaven, designated to be our examples  and helpers, as they’ve died in Christ,   with Christ in them,  and so they remain in communion with us.  (That’s what you say in the Creed.  “…. I believe in the communion of saints ….”

Remember them!    Get to know them!

The very next day we remember all those souls who have died,  “All Souls Day,”   on their way to Heaven,  diamonds in the rough, so to speak,   but within the communion of believers.

And so during all of November it is appropriate to remember the dead,  especially our dead loved ones.      God is outside of Time;  our prayers for them matter no matter “when” we pray.

Our dead loved ones are still loved by us.     They remind us that one day we will be like they are now.      In the blink of an eye, our world will change.

As a matter of fact,  the world we exist in will change from this world . . .   to the next.

tombstones

The Rose is red: the grass is green
The days are past which I have seen
As you are now so once was I
But as I am now so shall be ye
Prepare for death and follow me.

8. STEAM KETTLE DAYS – Something Cold and Wicked . . .

November 1, 2016

” . . .   This Way Comes.”

“Something Cold and Wicked This Way Comes.”    Most people know that phrase,  from the Stephen King movie.

But I’m adding “Cold”  because Winter is coming just as  something very wicked is coming along with it.

steam-kettle

Makes me so mad,  because just as people are going to need their furnaces, a matter of life and death around here and in much of our country,  our Rulers have decided to increase the pressure on us by raising our heating bills to unaffordable levels.

It’s a win-win situation for them;  lose-lose for us.

First of all, forget nuclear power plants.   ALL of them are expensive.  ALL of them are leaking radiation into the atmosphere and/or ground water.   Almost all of them are operating past their permitted time of 40 years – but we don’t know what to do with the aging power plants,and even if we did,  we have no idea what to do with the “spent”  fuel rods which are inconceivably dangerous to us.

(Remember what happened in the back areas of Carlsbad Caverns!!)

Humans!      “The gods give us toys that will destroy us.”    (See enenews on the sidebar if you don’t know what’s going on in Fukushima – no, it’s not over…)

The rain on my deck should not be THREE times the acceptable background radiation:

102.3.jpg

104-3

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

These readings have gone up over 200 after some rainstorms.

I said “our Rulers have decided to increase the pressure on us”  and one of the ways to get our attention is to drive up the cost of heating and cooling.    When the Barack Hussein person was first put into office by them,  he announced that he would make our utility costs  skyrocket.         Skyrocket beyond affordability!

There!   That ought to make us agree with his plan to shut down coal plants,  prevent us from  using our own  natural gas and oil resrevs,  keeping us dependent upon Arab (Muslim) sources of fuels,    with the added benefit to his Rulers of being able to extend the myth of “global warming.”

The Barack Hussein person got applause for this from his own audience – and kudos of approval from the entertainment-news media.

coal

 

Just if you go by facts alone, the actual numbers,  coal mining has successfully implemented rules and regulations to make it a cleaner industry and safe.    Just statistically speaking.

 

power

Just if you go by facts alone, the actual numbers,  the nuclear power industry has implemented rules and regulations but has still not achieved safety nor efficiency nor cost- effectiveness.    Just statistically speaking.   Nearly ALL of your power plants have passed their safe age of operation.

 

We have “weather”    here in the Far North.   We have a  “climate.” 

It gets very hot here in our summer months – not for long,  but for long enough.  It’s natural in our summers.  It’s always happened.

One day this summer I was listening to our local news and item # 1  was that on this particularly warm day there were power outages, blackouts and brownouts due to increasing need for air conditioning.   This was unusual, so the news-reader read out the explanation:     So many power plants had been shut down recently by decree,  dictatorial decree,  that the remaining power plants cannot produce enough power that can  be distributed around our state (for cooling or heating) !

Without blinking,  this news reader then went on to read another part of her script:   Our state has received orders  to shut down 30 more power plants in the near future.       And the state government will do so.

We don’t have enough power –  so shut down some more power plants.

gloomy-cloud

No local input.   No local control.   No citizen input.   No citizen control over our own well-being.

Apparently this is happening in state after state.

Something very cold is coming:  Winter in the Far North.

Something very wicked is approaching:     Global socialism . . .  the control mechanism of our Rulers.

 Election 2016:           Them versus You.

Laws that benefit Americans?   Or Rules that make our Rulers stronger?        This is truly War Against America.   Slowly “transforming” America.     Vote to continue that – or vote to stop it.

Flag don't tread.jpg

“BY THE SHORES . . .”

July 16, 2016

  Just for my own record,  I made it.

 

3 Shores whited 350

“By the shores of Gitche Gumme . . .”

3 shores of gg 400

By the Shining Big-Sea-Waters –

3 ShiningWaters

It  might look like all “water” to you,  but I spent the day flitting from this spot along the Lake to that spot,  like a butterfly,  sipping in sweet experiences; all varied, all blues,  all waters.

The shores were different from place to place –

3 red shores 400

I climbed down to these red  shelf-rocks,  and then I walked way out onto a breakwater to get more views –

3 out into waters 400

The forest back there covers a partial island,  a “presque isle” in French,  and it holds the grave of  an Indian chief who lives there.    I’m  in   Hiawatha’s native land.

Doesn’t that passageway just seem to beckon a canoe to travel forward into it?

3 canoe there 400

Forth upon the Gitch Gumme
On the shining Big-Sea-Water
With his fishing-line of cedar
Of the twisted bark of cedar
Forth to catch the mighty sturgeon
Mishe-Nahma, King of fishes
In his birch canoe exulting
All alone went Hiawatha.

‘Though Hiawatha can exult as his canoe speeds along,  he must be skillfully aware of hidden dangers.   The lake holds many  hidden boulders, sandbars,  floating  tangled logs,  shipwrecks, shoals,  islands,  and snaggy inlets.

Here’s one very noisy seagull island.   At times it is covered in white (seagulls)  as though there were snow on it  –

3 sea gull island 380

He looks like he has many tales to tell –

3 Ready to Tell380

And, as I said a few posts ago,  I’m here to tell myself my own tales.  Tales of my own life.  Tales that will make sense of my own life.

This is the Lake that I first saw when I was a newborn baby.    I come back to sit by its shores.

Ah, my son, exclaimed the Old Man
Happy are my eyes to see you!
Sit here on the mat beside me
Sit here by the dying embers
Let us pass the night together
Tell me of your strange adventures
Of the lands where you have traveled;
Then I’ll tell you of my prowess
Of my many deeds of wonder . . .

 

 

WATCHING THE MESSAGE MORPH

June 13, 2016

Morphing can be fun.   Some of us having a morphing function on our cell phone photo edits.    One thing turns into another.

Which can be the problem, if one thing shouldn’t turn into another.  And if something that is quite clear can be made to seem, well . . .   “fuzzy.”

LIGHTS 22

We all saw these pictures (more or less)  from early Sunday morning’s mass killing in Florida.

If you read newspapers from around the world,  you would have read that an “ISIS fanatic” killed 50 people in a night club early Sunday morning.”     (To quote some headlines:  “Islamic Terrorist Kills 50”“Ramadan Massacre in Orlando”)

Like most of you, in the aftermath of the terrible shooting in Orlando, Florida,   I watched a couple entertainment-news channels on Sunday,  flipping back and forth between at least two of them (and also a sports channel . . .) .

LIGHTS 11 325
I observed an interesting thing.     For the first couple of hours the information was pretty much the same.  Different witnesses,  different speakers,  but the same news story.     A little bit of new information trickled in from time to time but it was the same message:  Americans had been attacked in a night club.   The killer was a  Muslim, increasingly devout and religious over the past few years.    The killer had contacted ISIS before (or during)  his shooting spree.   ISIS had made a public statement of approval  just after the killing.

Message:  How can America  protect itself against future attacks?   How could this have been prevented?    Could it have been prevented?    Was the killer “inspired by”  or  “directed by”  ISIS?        (I don’t know,   he made two trips to Saudi Arabia . . .  anything could have happened there.)

As I watched   one entertainment news channel,  these questions were explored by various guests,    and eyewitnesses continued to be found and brought before their cameras.   Like the “free and open debates”  so necessary for a free society.

However, on the other entertainment-news channel,  I watched in fascination as the Message changed;  America was attacked so why does America deserve to be attacked?     After a brief time raising the question of how adequate our intelligence is in the “war” on terrorism  –  Nope,   didn’t matter.      This became a possible “hate crime.”   This was a hate crime.   (I knew where that was going then.)

It was a hate crime.  A lone wolf hate crime.   Not connected to anything else except victimizing the night club people for how they identify themselves.    Nice innocent night club people, “just like any other American.”    So the PC drumbeat goes.

The attack on Americans was turned around into a scathing criticism of “haters”  and of  Christians and of any  American citizens exercising their Second Amendment rights.

LIGHTS 33

The morphing of the Message:

The message on one entertainment-new channel was how to prevent more attacks like this in our country,  starting with let’s identify the enemy, lets identify our own weaknesses,  let’s identify a better strategy.

On the other entertainment-news channel  it became   let’s attack the hateful Christians and their guns.

The message had morphed.

Who does your thinking for you?

bar dissolve er

Perhaps a public statement by those close to the murderous deed would help: 

 Islamic State reiterated on Monday a claim of responsibility:   “One of the Caliphate’s soldiers in America carried out a security invasion where he was able to enter a crusader gathering at a nightclub for homosexuals in Orlando,” the group said in a broadcast on its Albayan Radio.

bar dissolve er
So,  O thou Crusader,  who you gonna believe?

 

THE DAY I THOUGHT I KILLED MY DAD

June 9, 2016

Well, it’s been 60 degrees inside my house for the past couple days.    I feel the cool air more when I move through it.    If I keep moving, of course, I warm up, but my first inclination is to find a nice cozy quilt-cave to wait out this cold spell.    (Was  it just yesterday that I called my goldfish the Sissies?)

So,  me –

ME

It’s fleece jackets, quilts, and books for me for a while.   And thinking.  (If you lived in my head, I think . . .  I really think you’d have a lot of fun.)

The thinking that my mind does comes from many angles, and sometimes the thoughts converge.     Today:  (1)  –  It’s Thursday, and I’m reminded by my common daily prayers that this is the day of the week that the Last Supper occurred;  and Christ told us:  “This is My Body.”   and then (2)   just a week or so ago was the Feast Day of Corpus Christi,  reminding us to think about  what This Is My Body really means.    And (3)   Thursday leads to Friday, the day which Jesus actually gave His “broken” Body in self-sacrifice for us . . .  which leads to Saturday,  Our Lady’s Day, alone with her thoughts,    and then Sunday . . . what it was all for.

Thursday to Friday to Saturday to Sunday . . .

Like climbing a  beautiful mountain,  beginning with Thursday leading all the way up to the summit of Sunday!       (Because we don’t just “remember”  these things;  we’re supposed to internalize them in amazed wonder . . .  and gratitude, if we really understand everything.     I’m running out of years, Dear Readers,  to get this right.)

(4)   So – my Dad?   My poor Dad?

A long, long time ago I enrolled in Arizona State University.  Wa-a-a-a-y   across the country.     My parents,  in a surprising gesture of generosity,  offered to drive me out there — because they needed to see that part of the country too.

LP  station wagon cr

I was 19 years old and the proud  “owner”  of two baby sisters, 2 and 4 years old that year.

We posed them in front of all the interesting scenery during that trip.

LP  sisters i front cr

I put them on top of everything,  so I could take their picture;  rocks, barrels, roadside signs,  touristy objects,   fake mules  :

LP Sisters on Top cr

And we, the whole family,  traveled through strange-looking territory:

LP strange places cr

Funny,  I do actually remember taking all these photos.   Like the proverbial  yesterday.

My Mom was often busy taking care of the little ones,  and that left my Dad and me free to explore the sites more intensely.      We were strong and adventurous.     I was 19, as I said,  and my Dad was an “impossibly” young 38 years old.

I thought he was invincible.

Somewhere along the trip we came to Long’s Peak, Colorado.      14259 ft.

Long's Peak

And there were signs all over about Hiking Trails and Climbing Long’s Peak —  and it sounded like a good adventure.     I don’t know if we went right to the very peak, where the mountain comes to a small point,  but we came pretty close.   I remember seeing signs for  “12,000”  feet and then “13,000”  feet, with arrows pointing onward and upward.

Here,  if you want to do it:

Long's Peak Trail

At about that 12,000 feet sign my Dad said something I thought I’d never hear him say:  “Let’s  stop and rest for a  little while.”

Oh, sure –  a chance for me to take lots of photos!      But my Dad didn’t.

And then, we went farther on,  higher and higher … until my Dad said something again.   Something like “Do you think we’ve gone far enough?”    He  sounded very much out of breath.

(Something I understand now whenever I visit my grandchild who lives  in the high altitudes of the Sierras.)

I said I wanted to take his picture, a photo of his accomplishment, so he put on a smile:

LP  Dad on Peak 400 cr

Right after that photo,  he plopped down hard on the ground – and shook his head in a rather frightening way but he didn’t say anything.   And I looked at him and he looked kind of funny.   The skin on his face was blotchy, white patches and red patches.  I’ll never forget those colors.

We had climbed longer and farther than most of the other people on the mountain that day.     It occurred to me that my Dad was in trouble and there was no way I could get him down the mountain and back to our car by myself.    My mind just went blank at the thought that my hiking enthusiasm  … might … have ….   killed him!

I should have been watching over him!   I should have been aware!

Well, he recovered.   He was young and strong – Viking stock.    We made it downhill and back to my rather concerned young mother . . . .

My Dad and I have talked about this incident occasionally.   He remembers how he felt,   but most of all what he remembers, and what he talks about,  was how glorious it was near the top of Long’s Peak.   What magnificent scenery.   How  beautiful, how lovely —  an amazing, thrilling adventure with no regrets.   And he was glad I had gone with him!

Climbing a mountain –   like  Thursday, Friday,  Saturday, and Sunday.

Honestly –  the thrill is so similar.  So real.   so life-and-death.

CASSIUS CLAY – AND FATHERING

June 4, 2016

 

My tribute to Cassius Clay   

cassius clay

–    the given Christian name of Mohammed Ali.

I have no comment on his personal life.      And I suppose if I changed my name to something that represents a new religious identity,  I’d want to be known publicly by that name too.

Nevertheless,  I first “met”  him as Cassius Clay,  the greatest boxer I had ever seen — second only to  Rocky Marciano, of course,  Undefeated American Heavyweight Champion.  I can’t remember if Cassius Clay ever went undefeated for long, but it doesn’t matter –  he was one of the greats too.

Every Friday night,  my Dad and I watched the Friday Night Boxing Match,  on a  small TV;  black and white pictures.    This was when boxing was still a sport, long before it —   well, changed into something I wouldn’t spend time on today.     We had our favorites back then, of course,  but we saw  some of the greatest matches of that age.

But the wonder of it all was that it was my Dad and I watching those games.

A wonderful miracle, really.

I was a little girl, and he was . . . a Marine –   an “ex”-Marine, he called himself,  of the WWII variety:   big,  strong,  masculine,  and very, very sure of himself and the righteousness of his opinions.      I spent most of my life alternately scared of and cautious around my Dad –  all except for Friday nights.

Then he wasn’t scary.  He wasn’t dangerous with incomprehensible bouts of “masculinity.”   He was like a friend,  a fellow fan of the Friday Night Fights.

And this did a lot for my growing sense of femininity.

“My big, male,  Daddy”  —  liked my company, during these boxing matches.    His respect for me  gave me a  sense of being valued.      His friendship for those few hours a week  healed a thousand wounds.

A Dad, a daughter, and some of the greatest boxing matches this world has ever known!

And my thanks to “Mohammed Ali.”  May God have mercy on his poor soul.

 

 

 

A 12-YEAR OLD GIRL DIES (I)

May 25, 2016

Here’s my involvement:

. 1.  Once I was a 12-year-old girl.  I know what it’s like to be a girl with her whole life ahead of her.

.2  I worked my way through college, four years, in a hospital.   Pediatrics.   We were very understaffed.  Sometimes it was only an RN and myself for 30 – 40  young patients.  If it became life-threatening, of course they’d send over another person;  a “floater”  who could do some of the routine things.  I got to learn a lot of medical procedure in those days.

One summer evening  there was a terrible accident on a lake shore.   Parents had tucked  their children into their sleeping bags;  hung  the kerosene lantern up high, out of reach;  and when the two children were sound asleep,  the parents left to go out for a short rowboat ride,  staying close to shore.

Not close enough.   Somehow the tent caught on fire and the parents couldn’t get there in time.  The 12-year-old girl and her 4-year-old little brother were rushed to the hospital,  to us.  

I saw them when I came in on my next shift.  They shared a hospital room.    They were burned pretty badly, but at this stage their burned skin was only pink.  The blackened skin had been scraped off, but even the pink skin was dying.   They had to be scraped down every few hours, and a silver nitrate solution poured over the open skin.

Many nerves had been killed, so they  felt horrifying pain only while the scraping was going on.   Brother and sister even talked to each other.   I don’t think they realized how seriously they were burned.

One day,  the little boy was talking to his sister, his sister answered,  but the little boy didn’t answer back.   He died – just like that.    Shock, they said.     The sister did not die,  but . . . .

I was young.  19 years old, I think.   I was in shock too, and I’ve never forgotten this event

. 3.  (of my involvement)   I am a Christian,  and here’s what happened last week to a fellow Christian, a sister in Christ:

Radical-Islamists in the Middle East have stated they want to wipe out all Christians who live in their territory.    Their words,  not mine.    Spoken fairly frequently.    Those who haven’t been exterminated yet are, for now,  paying a very, very high tax.  Ruinously high – unless they convert to Islam.

It’s called the Jaziyah, in case you aren’t familiar with that term or that concept.   Many Christians can’t afford to keep their homes or their businesses.

And one family  missed a payment.   They didn’t pay on time.

So their house was set on  fire with the family inside.     The mother and her 12-year-old daughter escaped out of their burning house and were taken to a medical center.

Now I have seen a 12-year-old girl who has been badly  burned, lying in a hospital bed,  quite close to death, and yet able to talk a little.   I can imagine . . .   this one.    She was about to die;  she wasn’t going to make it.

She  was a devout Christian.    She spoke a little to her mother.   And  “with her dying breath”   she spoke her last two words:

    (“Forgive them.”)

A Christian who is devoted to his Lord will say The Lord’s Prayer daily;  or twice or three times or more daily.    “. . . And forgive us our trespasses   as   we forgive those who trespass against us.”

I think this little girl in the Middle East got it.

Have  any Americans heard about this incident on their entertainment-news media?   Because it’s important.   Because it’s emblematic.     That is,  it’s a signal event, a symbol,  of what is happening   in general,  commonly.     It illustrates the dangers that Christians face all over the Middle East;  It illustrates the brutality of those who are intent on conquering the known world.

They are on the move again.

Which brings me to a question and to the next post . . . .

 

Bar Cross in middle

 

Many sources have carried this story:

One here.

Another here.

Another here.

There’s more, but it’s not necessary to dwell on this story.    Oddly – or horrifyingly – enough,  there are worse stories out there about what the Radical-Islamists are doing to Christians.

But I can’t let my imagination start going to “dipping Christians in acid.”

Et cetera.

 

A BIRTHDAY & A SAINT ALMOST MURDERED

May 22, 2016

The birthday celebration table:

BDay  Tab;e sr

Steaks.  Salads.   Presents.  Card.   Cake.   (  . . . and a big arm waiting.)      It’s fun putting on a birthday spread, especially for someone very important!

It was Son’s birthday this weekend.    (Oh, yes – the whole weekend;  three-day weekend, as a matter of fact.   Since his profession requires him to work some weekends, and since  so many people wanted a piece of him on his birthday the celebrations will take  three days. )

Which brings me to my point:  so many hours worked!   So many people to see!    Oh,  Son is not complaining,   but I do observe  people who have busy-busy lives.  I once had an impossibly busy life too.

Has time speeded up or are we trying to cram more into our days?

Or are we trying to avoid facing the deeper issues of Life by activity?

Or all of the above?

But this question is nothing new . . .

Complicated

Human life has long been busy and complicated with great challenges and no easy answers.     Many times everyday life prevents us from sorting out Good and Bad;  Right and Wrong;    Duty;   Virtue;  our relationship to God and each other.    We are distracted, willingly or not willingly,  from the serious issues of Life.

Son is an intelligent person, and sometimes he perceives this dilemma too.

Appropriately,   the saint we remember on the day of Son’s birthday is a man named St.  Hospitius.   (“hoss – pish – us”)      He left the high (and complex, busy) culture of Egypt, sometime after the fall of the Roman Empire, in order to find a quiet  place to understand the meaning of life and to work out his relationship with God.

He traveled to the less populated regions of Gaul,  what we’d call France,  today.    He needed time to think and to figure things out.   He chose to live in the ruins of an old tower where he hoped to see not very many people.      Peace and quiet and freedom.

st h and tower ruins

He had quiet time alone, away from people;  time to think, to learn, and to pray.      He knew this much:  that he was certainly a sinner before God, and he wished to atone for his sins,  to do penance,  and to develop a deep friendship with  his Savior.

And as often happens:  we seek,  heaven rewards.     St.  Hospitius was eventually rewarded with wisdom and understanding,  and the power to prophesy and to work miracles.  Once he warned the villagers around him that they had better flee,  because the fierce tribe of Lombards were on their way to attack, pillage, and destroy.

They left,  but he didn’t.   A small group of barbarian Lombard soldiers found him and saw the chains that he usually wore around his waist, to remind him of what a great sinner he was.   The soldiers thought he was some kind of criminal.

He agreed with them!     Yes!  In the eyes of God I am a criminal.    A great sinner.”   So since he was a self-admitted “bad guy” and an obvious outcast,  they were free to kill him.

Stospitius in chains

A soldier raised his sword to strike,   but the soldier’s arm became paralyzed.   St.  Hospitius made the sign of the cross over him —  the soldier’s arm became “un-paralyzed”   — and the soldier realized this is a holy man of God, and soon converted to Christianity, along with his (military)  friends.

His life is over now.   He died in 581 A.D.      But the relentless demands of busy, everyday life is still with us, as well as the serious need to sort out  Life and Death issues and make our peace with our Creator before we die.

St.  Hospitius is in Eternity right now.    Our Eternity is still before us.  It’s coming.

 

MAY DAYS – BECOME PERSONAL

May 5, 2016

So many special days in May!    Here is a personal one:

May 3rd,  my aunt’s birthday.   May 3rd,  my aunt’s wedding anniversary.  And now,  just a few days ago, May 3rd,  my aunt’s death.      One aunt;  one date.

My Aunt Marcy:

SAMSUNG

That would be my uncle and my aunt, on the left.     (Dad, Mom, and me on the right.)

Aunt Marcy was a beautiful woman,  I think  she  (and my Mom)  could  be called glamorous, the way beautiful movie stars set the standard in those days.    Always well dressed,  well groomed,  ladylike,  gracious, efficient,  kind, friendly,  and above all,  good.

Aunt Marcy was like that, in person and in all  her photos.   I can tell you from observation that both ladies were a civilizing influence on their husbands.  Not that that was an easy task,  but I and my cousins are better off for it.   Civilized behavior and high moral standards –  which I suppose are two ways of saying the same thing.

Aunt Marcy was 90 years old, exactly, as it turns out.    She will be missed by her family —

—  and she and her kind will be sorely missed by our culture,  unless we step up and take their place.

I thank God for her life and for her example.    Condolences to my cousins and their children.

Deo gratias.       And Requiescat in Pace.

 

Bar Cross in middle

 

 

 

 

 

PURPLE PAIN (On Being Awake)

April 25, 2016

Awaken.

SAMSUNG

Not a good day to do yard work or take a “nice” walk around the block.

SAMSUNG

You’re either “awake”  or you’re not.

He was:

pr

 

For those of you who are awake and aware,  you already know the connection.

A man of rare talents,  aware of some of what is going on around us,  and with the painful, fatal courage to speak out against these things.

May God judge him according to the Light he was given — and have mercy on his soul.