Feeling Hungry?

Divine Scripture is the feast of wisdom,
and the individual books are the various dishes.

                                                                                                                      St. Ambrose

A Serenity of Temper

Spiritual joy

 is a serenity of temper in the changes of life,

 such as a mountain has when a storm breaks over it.

To a man who has never rooted

 the soul in the Divine,

 every trouble exaggerates itself.

                                                                                           - Archbishop Fulton Sheen

When You Pray....

"When you pray, go to your room, close your door, and pray to your Father in private.  Then your Father, Who sees what no man sees, will repay you."  (Matthew 6:6)

Be Led Gently

"Take no notice of that feeling you get of wanting to leave off in the middle of your prayer, but praise the Lord for the desire you have to pray.  That, you may be sure, comes from your will which loves to be with God.  It is just melancholy that oppresses you and gives you the feeling of constraint.  

Try occasionally, when you feel yourself oppressed in that way, to go to some place where you can see the sky, and walk up and down a little... 

It is essential that the soul be led gently."

                                                                                   - from a letter of St. Teresa of Avila

(August Hagborg painting in US public domain)

Turn Everything to Profit

"Take advantage of little sufferings even more than of great ones.  God considers not so much what we suffer as how we suffer....

Do what a shopkeeper does in regard to his business; turn everything to profit.  Even though it be only an insect sting or a pin prick, a little eccentricity of your neighbor or some unintentional slight, the loss of some money, some little anxiety, a little bodily weariness, or a slight pain in your limbs.  Turn everything to profit, as the grocer does in his shop, and you will soon become rich before God...

At the least annoyance say, 'thank you, Lord; Your will be done."
                            - St. Louis de Montfort





(Guido Marulli painting, placed by artist in public domain)

These Opportunities

"These little daily acts of charity, this headache, toothache or cold, this bad humor in a husband or wife, this broken glass, this contempt or that scorn, this loss of a pair of gloves, ring or handkerchief, the little inconveniences incurred by going to bed early and getting up early to pray or receive Holy Communion, that little feeling of shame one has in performing certain acts of devotion in public - in short, all such little trials when accepted and embraced with love are highly pleasing to God's mercy.  For a single cup of water God has promised to his faithful a sea of perfect bliss...

Great opportunities to serve God rarely present themselves, but little ones are frequent."
                                                                                                                             - St. Francis de Sales

(William Paxton painting 1909, in US Public Domain)

For Now, Indistinctly

Sometimes I can't make sense at all of the world around me.  At times, it seems I'm just wandering about aimlessly.  Of course I know that's not true; my faith tells me it's not true.  But it can feel that way.  When I have a touch of illness, when tragedy strikes, when disaster hits on a large or small scale, things can seem frightfully bleak.  Like monsters lurking, waiting to pounce, circumstances can grow larger and darker the more I look at them.

Some years ago, when I was facing a time of difficulty, it occurred to me that I only see a tiny part of the overall picture.  God is the Artist, standing ready to make a Masterpiece of my life. I keep pulling the brush from His hand, but He always takes it back the instant I repent and offer it to Him.  I have witnessed His great Mercy sweep across my stubborn smudges and work even those into His grand design.

Still, from where I sit, sometimes things don't make a great deal of sense.  There seems to be no real pattern (I think at times).  There can be a lot of dark.  But I see only a small part of the picture, I remind myself.  I'm like a jigsaw-puzzler responsible for only a tiny section - with no boxtop illustration to help me see how my little bit fits into the bigger plan!

My little portion, jumbled and dark though it may be, DOES fit into a much larger picture.  This I trust as fact.  Because God assures me of it, this I know. 

One day I will see the finished work.

"Eye has not seen, ear has not heard, nor has it so much as dawned on man, what God has prepared for those who love Him."  (1 Corinthians 2:9)

"We walk by faith, not by sight."  (2 Corinthians 5:7)

"God makes all things work together for the good of those who love Him, who are called according to His decree."  (Romans 8:28)

"Now we see indistinctly, as in a mirror.  Then we shall see face to face."  (1 Corinthians 13:12)

Adoration of the Eucharist, J.J. Espinosa, 1650

Make Way for Grace

"When He finds a soul penetrated with a lively faith, 

He pours into it His graces and favors plentifully.

There they flow like a torrent,

which, after being forcibly stopped

against its ordinary course,

 when it has found a passage,

spreads itself with impetuosity and abundance.

  Yes, we often stop this torrent

by the little value we set upon it.

 But let us stop it no more.

  Let us enter into ourselves 

and break down the bank which hinders it.

Let us make way for grace.

  Let us redeem the lost time" 

                                                                                                                              - Brother Lawrence

A Chance to Rhyme

I once heard Dr. Scott Hahn say, regarding echoes of Truth throughout the Old and New Testaments, that “history does not repeat itself, but it does rhyme.” 

One instance of “rhyming” I’m personally fond of has to do with charcoal fires.  Two particular scenes in the life of St. Peter remind me that even in our individual histories, we are given chance after chance to rhyme.

Please click here to join me over at Suscipio,  There we will look at "rhyming fires," and at the opportunity we are each given to rhyme our own lives with the plans of God...

Keeping Things in Perspective

The following is something I have a hard time describing, but I find it important enough that I'm going to give it a try.

I think we're made to look for the time when things are stable and settled, but we set our sights too short.  Heaven is where our gaze (even now) is to be directed.

I compare it to the "vanishing point" I did projects on in Art school.  In a study of perspective, the vanishing point is that place on the horizon where what one sees, in effect, vanishes.  It's a central point, sometimes illustrated by a single little dot.  It is that spot to which all things are directed.   Everything in the picture is geared toward that point.  Streets, roofs, windows, roads can then be lined up as the eye sees them: wider when they're closer to the viewer, and narrower toward the horizon.  the picture is only correct, nicely proportioned, and logical if the artist takes into account the vanishing point.  In a basic perspective lesson, the student is taught to project the vanishing point and then to practice by using rulers until all things in the picture line up correctly with that one central spot.

We look to things of earth, goals in this life, as our vanishing points.  But the only true and unchanging vanishing point is in eternity.  We are to fix our eyes on Jesus, and all things then take their proper perspective.  All too often we "draw in" parts of our lives with the wrong central spot ("I must make my life today line up with my goal of making money.... becoming successful... being well liked... appearing intelligent...."), and while this may seem to work for a time, it actually throws our lives off balance. 

It is only when we fix our eyes on Jesus that everything else falls into proper perspective.

He is the one and only Central Spot. 

"Here we have no lasting city; we are seeking one which is to come."  (Hebrews 13:14)

A Chance For Virtue

"The worst thing that can befall persons who have good will is to want to be what they cannot be and not want to be what they necessarily must be.  They conceive desires to do great things, which perhaps will never be expected of them; in the meantime, they neglect the little things which God puts into their hands.  There are thousands of acts of virtue, as for example:

to bear little troubles and the imperfections of our neighbors;
to suffer a biting word or some little injustice;
to repress a harsh word;
to mortify a little attachment or curiosity;
to refrain from giving a bit of news;
to excuse an indiscretion;
to be condescending toward others in little things -
these are for everyone, so why not practice them?"
                                                                                   (St. Francis de Sales) 
(Mary Cassattt painting public domain)

Be Not Unworthy

"Americans, God has given you a great country....

   Be not unworthy of Heaven's confidence."

                                                                            (Archbishop Ireland, Chicago, 1895)

This Summer Day

This is my first attempt at "blogging inside the lines," (in other words, according to an outline... more or less..).  I'll just be adventurous and see what comes of it!  I am joining up with the ladies at Suscipio today for Catholic Woman's Almanac.  

Here goes... 

Today I am thankful for:
+ AIR CONDITIONING.
+ “My special window,” beside which I sit to pray and read and blog.  It has a bookshelf right beside it, and at hand are my Bible, concordance, Cathecism of the Catholic Church, Liturgy of the Hours, books of saints, papers, pencils, CDs, folders of writings and newsletters.  I look up from the computer screen onto a blazing hot day.  From my white-curtained window, the afternoon looks absolutely cheerful.  But if one goes out into it?  Not so much.  So very hot.  Thank God for trees in their best summer green.  They soften the piercing sun.
+ Watermelon.  It IS summertime to me. 
+ A wonderful blogger who recently affirmed my 10 months of blogging in a very kind way.  If you're reading this, my friend, YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE!

Today I am praying for:
+  The USA. The world.
+  Our beloved Church.  Priests.  Religious Orders.
+  My family.  My friends, including blog readers.  And this means you.  Yes, you.
+  My friend Brian, who will be having brain surgery in a few days.

Today I am reading:
  Several things at once.  As always.
+ Strange Gods Before Me by Mother Mary Francis PCC.   An older book (1964, I think) that I'd read a number of years ago.  A friend gave it to me recently, and I am enjoying anew Mother's holy wisdom and keen sense of humor.  She often has me laughing aloud. 
+ Adam and Eve After the Pill by Mary Eberstadt

Today I am looking toward: 
+ A fourth of July caring for my youngest grandchild (age two) while her mommy works as a hospital nurse.

Today I am remembering:
+ July fourths when my own grandmother took me to our city's fireworks displays.  Such excitement!
Boom BOOM Boom boom BOOM boom BOOM !

"I will give thanks to You, O Lord my God, with all my heart, and I will glorify Your Name forever"  (Psalm 86:12)

(painting of "Watermelon" by Eugenio Lucas)

Simply This..

"The whole
realm of nature
is his
who has
God
for
his Portion." 
             (St. Ambrose)






(public domain photo)

Tune our Hearts to Brave Music

"God of our life,
there are days
when the burdens we carry chafe
our shoulders and weigh us down; 
when the road seems dreary and
endless, the skies gray and threatening;
when our lives have no music in them, 
and our hearts are lonely, and 
our souls have lost their courage. 

"Flood the path with light,
turn our eyes to where the skies
are full of promise.
Tune our hearts to brave music; 
give us the sense of comradeship
with saints and heroes of every age;
and so quicken our spirits that we
may be able to encourage the souls 
of all who journey with us on 
the road of life,
to Your honor and glory."
                 (St. Augustine)



(painting: The Fern Gatherer by Charles Lidderdale, 1877)

Life, Sanctified

William Paxton "The Housemaid"  In US public domain

"It all depends on our intention, by which we can sanctify the least little thing!
It can transform the most ordinary acts of life
into divine acts.
A soul that lives united to You, my God, performs nothing but supernatural acts.
The most commonplace actions, instead of separating it from You,
bring it all
the closer to You."
    (St. Elizabeth of the Trinity)

The Gift of Right Now

Last night I had what I would call an "awakening." Feeling that I've given too little time to God over the course of my life, too little time to prayer, too much time to trivialities, I experienced a different reaction than I've had to such thoughts in the past.

Rather than my usual "woe is me, I've wasted too much time, I'll never 'make up for it..,'" last night I felt a gentle whisper of hope.  If I could put it into a sentence, it was as if I sensed the words: "but you have right now."

I have right now.  Knowing this in a kind of "flash," I realized that I could not turn back the clock and re-live minutes of years ago, last week, or even yesterday morning.  However, I had the moment of right then.  I could pray at that very instant, talking spontaneously to God, and I did so.  I could choose anew to live for Christ, in that moment, and I did so.

I have forgotten to pray more often than I'd like to admit during the course of my life; sometimes I find prayer a struggle.  But in each moment, I am given a new opportunity.  A fresh, shining, precious chance to at least speak to God when I think of Him.  A moment in which I can connect with Him, offer a word of thanks or praise; a moment in which I can start anew.

"Every moment comes to us pregnant with a command from God, only to pass on and plunge into eternity, there to remain forever what we have made it."  (St. Francis de Sales)

I have Right Now.

The Treasure in the Old Bookshop

The shop was long and narrow, dimly lit by naked bulbs dangling from the ceiling. It was a shadowed, solemn, wondrous place, tucked away in a dusty corner of the city where shops didn't sparkle like the department stores over on Main. Mysterious and musty it was; filled with rows and racks and piles of volumes.  Used hardbacks, yellowing paperbacks, comics... all stacked haphazardly and ready for a rummager's quest.

I'd step out of the light of day and onto the squeaky wood floor in search of buried treasure.  It was my own personal library, and the best part was: I could read the books and then - I could keep them!  No need to keep close tabs on them, no stamps inside warning that this was a "14 day book," no falling in love with a whole fictional family only to have to dump them on a counter at the end of the month.

I was allowed to buy all of the books I could carry, pretty much.. and this because of the kind man who took me to the bookstore: my father, who (okay, I'll admit it) spoiled me.  Rather than leaving me home on a Saturday so he could go rummage for his own treasures at "our bookshop," he patiently took his bubbly little buddy and shelled out who-knows-how-much for mystery stories I would stay up much too late reading.  I think back now and imagine the one sided "conversations" he had to endure on the drives home, as I cradled newfound treasures in my arms (no putting them in a bag for me, no sir) and rattled on about this being the EXACT Nancy Drew I've been looking for and oh LOOK at the green cover on this book it looks JUST like leather and omigosh I once got this one from the library and then couldn't find it ever again and oh Daddy isn't this just the best BEST day?

Today I live surrounded with shadows of our bookshop.  Shadows of a good kind, as I savor the comfort of books lining almost every wall of my home.   Shadows of a better kind, as I thank God for a father who was generous with his attention and his time.  These shadows of the better kind are ones I hope I've passed along to my own children, and now to my grandchildren as we share games and books and make-believe.  I pray to be generous with my attention and my time, helping them make memory-shadows of their own.

And I live with shadows of the best kind, because the generosity and attention of my earthly father was, itself, a dim shadow of the attention of my Heavenly Father.  

I can only imagine how HE looks upon me when I accept with joy His outpouring of gifts.  Think of how it must please Him when we bubble over with thanks and praise!

There are treasures all around, if I just look for them.  I might spend today doing some counting, and some thanking.   And who knows?  I might even bubble just a bit.... 

Bunny is Six

Bunny is six.  My oldest grandchild, born one and a half minutes ago (it seems to me), born so petite that she needed preemie clothes, is now a tooth-losing, word-spelling, bike riding, pony-loving, story-writing little lady of six.  And what a lady she's becoming.  A lover of tiaras, tutus, flowers, glitter, princesses, tea parties, and all things purple and pink.

More importantly, she's learning to mix honesty with kindness.  A spontaneous gift-opening-response of "oh, this isn't the doll I wanted" is followed by a swift "but thank you, GaGa - I like her hair!"

Most importantly, Bunny is learning to follow Jesus.  Seeing cartoon bullies in a movie recently, she assessed the situation by pronouncing gravely: "they don't know God."

I will admit, at this milestone in Bunny's life, to experiencing more than a trace of nostalgia.  She has a charming curly-haired brother and a sister whose smile lights up a room, and about each one I am utterly and hopelessly ... well, gaga.  But Bunny was the one who turned me into a grandma, and then gave me "my name" when "Grammy" proved too much for a tiny tot to say. 

I feel winds tickling the edges of our horizons.  School will be at home, at least for now, and Bunny's social life is still mostly family and church and ballet class and swim lessons....

But with that little puff of breath aimed at six birthday candles, I could swear the back of my neck felt, for just the briefest moment, a tiny prickle of change.

Bunny is six.

"When we learn to see life through the eyes of a child, that is when we become truly wise."  (Blessed Mother Teresa of Calcutta) 

(painting of La Fillette aux canard by Alfred Stevens, 1881)

Living Solely For...

"I need 

the closest

possible union

with Jesus, 

as if I were

spending my

whole life before 

His tabernacle... 

I must think of myself 

as living solely 

for the Sacred Heart of Jesus." 

                  

                      - Blessed Pope John XXIII