Friday Fast

The best fast is on bread and water. Through fasting and prayer, one can stop wars, one can suspend the laws of nature. Charity cannot replace fasting. Those who are not able to fast can sometimes replace it with prayer, works of love, and confession; but everyone, except the sick, must fast. - BVM 7/21/82

The intersession of Our Mother and the gifts from Our God are amazing; I was reminded of that today. As I was sitting at my desk at work this morning (5:45, yikes!) with my coffee (yes, coffee), I heated up a small roll H had bought for today, a fast day for us. Before I ate it, in my prayer I asked God to help me get through this day without too many stumbles in my fasting, to keep me strong and not weak minded, to just keep an eye on me. I'm not good at fasting. H can get by with water and well, usually just that until supper, when the menu usually is pizza dough with a little grated cheese on it. Me, I sort of cheat with crackers, maybe a pretzel or two, and really, too much bread. But my mind never really feels right, I'm more concerned with what I don't have than the gifts I do have. So, for me, it's a constant uneasy go of it, even with much prayer.
At 8:00am we have a break for breakfast and that's when I do my morning reading from MEDJUGOREJE DAY BY DAY by Richard Beyer. And there, just for me (so I think!) was today's message from Our Blessed Mother. In my heart, I felt a joy, almost a jolt of sorts, as I read the words. This is my second time through this book, which I read every morning, and I've heard the BVM speak of fasting many times, but today she made Herself known to me in this sweet small way. "I'm with you, we'll get through this day together," is what I felt after reflection on the message. I need that today, more than I usually do. There have been issues with family members and close friends that have been weighing on H and myself this week or so and it seems that with every step forward in dealing with these arising's everyone takes two steps back. A quiet weekend lies ahead, and I hope a time for prayer and reflection.
My day is not over yet, and the end of the month work hysteria that accompanies it has arrived and 4:30 is looking better and better. Holy Hour from 6-7 tonight is a blessing in itself.

Conversion Reflection

What more can I add to the already fine posts I've read today about one of the greatest stories in the Bible, the conversion of Saul? Nothing, really, but I will say this; I can see a bit of Saul in me, not so much now, but from a long time ago and that period in my life lasted for most of it until now. Although I never had anyone dragged away in chains I still, in my way persecuted them, verbally mostly, but in those acts I'm sure I inflicted damage on untold peoples lives that I'll never know. Someday I'll have to spend a considerable amount of time in prayer about my actions and even as I write this more and more events of my past life percolate upward. The type of actions that are only burnt away in purgatory. ...what you have done to the least of my brothers... To say we are human is not enough, it is no excuse at all. It's only a way to avoid the narrow gate, the Way of Life. He said to me "Go deeper," and I asked him, what do you mean, Lord, what do you want me to do?

In this reflection at least one path has been made clear to me.

A regret...ending in joy!

As you all know, today is the March For Life in Washington D.C. I was supposed to be there this year but I'm not. I'm behind my desk at work. Up until a couple of weeks ago my name was still penciled in on the calender in the inspection room, 'keith' written in black erasable marker. But then the doubts set in, and the first couple of weeks after the holidays found my paychecks pretty thin due to shortened work weeks and a little extra spending. So I thought twice, even three times about going, and came to the conclusion that I should pass it up, 'Hay when the sunshine's' now that we're back on our usual work hours, and try to get us back in the black a bit and catch up on bills. In hindsight (the best vision!) I see now who turned me, who brought those doubts into my head; the master of lies himself, satan. I should have known, should have seen it coming, but I think he struck when I was weak, he knew to strike then because of my feelings of sorry for myself for my lot in life. I learned a lesson from all this, well, not really learned, it was always there, but sometimes the weight of worldly troubles gets the best of me, which it did in the weeks after Christmas (why then, it's a joyous time!) and the father of lies found a way in and spoke. We're told to be on guard all the time, constantly, because "satan is out there, prowling like a lion".



So now I sit behind my desk, and write to you. But not in tears.



Yesterday at Holy Hour, 5-6pm for me, after my stumbling bit of internal yakking to Him, and after the Rosary, and in the middle of a prayer or a plea, the words "Go deeper" silenced me. Out of nowhere, He spoke. And in me, like with the spirit in David, a rush. And then the words "Do not be lukewarm". I was stunned. Stunned then, and still am now. He will hear your plea. He heard my agony over letting slip by the chance to March for Life, to be in solidarity with my brothers and sisters to protest the horrors of abortion. He heard my cries and in His way gave me comfort, and guidance. Go deeper. Do not be lukewarm. St. Teresa of Avila says that when God speaks to you your soul will know, and you will never forget, the words will stay fresh forever. Since hearing those words yesterday, in reflection and prayer I believe He opened another door, and He's standing there, one arm holding it open, His other arm beckoning to me, calling me, "This way!". I know now to never listen to those doubts, be on guard at all times, stand firm in our faith. I hope I'm up to the challenge, but only God has that answer. Where He wants me to go I have no idea where that will lead me.



But I'm here to follow.

Haiti (a reflection)

This last week or so has not been the smoothest or easiest of times. With the destruction of Haiti on CNN almost constantly, and I've watched my share, I find the sorrows there make me, on top of all the other emotions that surface, very uneasy. I do not doubt God, and I never will, I'm just saying that when something like this happens, so close to home, where your loved ones have gone to on mission and spent time, where you know people who know people there very closely, where you know people who have spent the last ten years of their lives returning, returning, and returning again to build schools, housing, fish farms, plant fruit tree groves, to see most of this crushed in a matter of 30 seconds, for me, after the prayers, the novenas and the rosaries, I'm only left to reflect on the mystery. The whys we'll never know, not in this lifetime...

I can go no further, with words, with this thread.

I did finally come to the realization (I don't know what took me so long, in hindsight I feel pretty stupid,) that the our Knights of Columbus, Council 1395, should do our part in the relief efforts. So this Saturday I'm going to set up a little card table, a can and some posters and signs and sit near the entrance to our small local grocery store, The Food Center. The owner isn't a Knight but a very nice guy whom I'll occasionally see praying the Rosary during Holy Hour on Thursdays. At last nights Officers Meeting we decided to also offer a table during our Pancake Breakfasts for people to donate. Since none of us can get there to help it's the least we can do.

Even as I write this, a 6.1 earthquake has shaken Haiti.

Well, it's Saturday morning, 6:52, and I'm at work. Wow! Not something I usually do, because normally our shop doesn't work on Sat., occasionally one or two guys, but that's it. Today, though, most of us are here, 15 or so of us, "haying when the sun shines", as thy say. When I'm home on a Sat. morning by now H and I have had lots of coffee, said our different morning prayers, and had a nice breakfast. Then on our way to morning Mass whoever is the passenger reads our Morning Prayer from the Christian Prayer book aloud. It's about a 25 min. ride to St. Martha's in Enfield, and that's just about enough time. It's something we do in order to get everything in on a weekend. The point I'm trying to make is that all week I've been mulling over in my mind about our comfort zones, how most of us hate to get pushed out of them, how at times we'll do or say unusual things just to stay in them. I'm just as bad as the next person, for sure. Being here at work today, I'm out of my c.z. for sure. And I have to admit, I'm only here for the money. So sad, really, because there is a big difference between getting out of your c.z. for a worthy cause then for money. I guess that these are the everyday crosses that God give us to bear, and to bear with a smile.
And then there's getting shoved out of your comfort zone because of an earthquake. Watching the whole sanitized version of the disaster unfold on CNN, no matter how hard I try to plumb my soul for an ounce of despair that a Haitian must feel right now, I cannot find it. Maybe in a way I'm becoming numb to it all, here, thousands of miles away. My comfort zone for something like this is too great, their ordeal is something far from me, and I can only watch and pray. To offer up those small prayers that I say all day to Jesus, to Francis, to The Blessed Virgin Mother, to God Himself, offer them up for the Haitian people and to ask God to hear their plea, to bring comfort to the suffering. I know that my comfort zone is here with my always, a heavy chain holds me fast to it. Our Lord asks us to break the chains that bind us, and so far I don't think I've done any of that. The deeper I go in prayer the more challenges the Lord puts before me, as it should be. Help me Lord to stay on this path, this path to You, that I may give myself completely to you in order to help others. Remind me again and again Lord, like you did this week in Adoration, how every time I looked up to You I heard You say: Come, follow Me.

Haiti

Just a quick post for now asking for prayers of any kind for the Haitians around the world and in Haiti itself. The old cliche' 'unless you've been there' still holds true for Haiti. The poor state of living has just been made a thousand times worse. Helen has been twice, in the area approx. 10 miles west of the epicenter. She knows lay and religious there, and no word from them yet. Like I said, prayers are needed...

Todays Gospel Reading

Luke 4:14-22

Today's gospel reading is one of my favorites; but this only occurred to me this morning as I read it. Just imagine yourself being there, sitting in the synagogue. 'He stood up to read and was handed a scroll of the prophet Isaiah.' And then he reads those famous lines-

The Spirit of the Lord is
upon me,
because he has anointed me
to bring glad tidings
to the poor.

He has sent me to proclaim
liberty to captives
and recovery of sight to the
blind,
to let the oppressed go free,
and to proclaim a year
acceptable to the Lord.

He rolls up the scroll, and then sits down.

And then those electrifying words; "Today this Scripture passage is fulfilled in your hearing."

Just imagine being there to see and hear this astonishing series of events. How did it happen that He was given that reading to read? A wide mix of emotions must have swept through the room after Our Lords' pronouncement. ..."fulfilled in your hearing." How would I have reacted? What kind of a person would I have been back then? Now, upon hearing this reading a cheer goes up in our hearts - Yes! Hooray! - but back then? I don't know. Mad? Unbelief? Or would my heart have been moved, as it is moved now by the smallest phrase, a simple psalm line or an ancient song?

I'll never know, but I can dream...

A thought on humility..

Let me say this; God does shower us with Graces. When He wants and with no reward to or for us, He just does. That's all I can say, because no matter how much I think about it, pray about it or try to talk about it no sense can be made of it (to me, that is.) I'm just trying to accept it, which is hard for me. My mindset is too tightly wound at times, preventing me from seeing those Graces. In these weeks after the Birth of Our Lord I've been made more aware of Him in my lowly life, and it truly is amazing. Probably because of Christmas and the realization of how vulnerable the child was, and the humbleness of the Holy Family that Our Lord decided to turn my head just a little, just enough to say Look! This is humbleness. This is humility. During my formation period in the S.F.O. I thought I had a good idea about those traits of character that were the bedrock of Christ on Earth. Only now I realize not as clearly as I thought. I liked the idea of humility and humbleness but never really knew how to achieve it.

He may have given me a ray of hope.

Tonight is our K of C Dinner Meeting, and I'm actually going into this meeting with positive ideas instead of dread. Positive ideas given to me in a kernel of truth by The Lord.

A reflection...

Well, there ended up being no time found to post when I wanted to say something and then when I had time, my mind was cooked. But that's OK. The end of Advent/Beginning of Christmas was busy, but at times, blessedly enveloped in silence. Even when we were singing in the choir at the Vigil Mass on Christmas Eve I tried to let silence rule. In between songs, just the reflection of the Baby Jesus in the womb. Not easy. I feel that Mass is sometimes the hardest place to focus in on Our Lord. Just too many distractions, but that's another issue, another post. Concerning the Choir, every year H and I say this is it, no more Folk Choir and regular Choir singing at the holidays, but we end up doing it anyway. We're asked, and we feel guilty saying no! At least H can sing, I just squawk along and try. But Lida keeps asking me back, so I can't say no, can I? I always equate it with Our Lord asking. Who can say no to someone or something that is good for one and all but pushes us out of our comfort zone a bit? I can't, not any more. The comfort zone was a topic in our meditation yesterday at our Secular Franciscan Christmas Gathering. Let me say right first, our gathering was just that, a gathering of brothers and sisters of like mind, devoted to living the Gospel and following in Our Lord's footsteps wherever that may lead. It felt really good to be there, breaking bread and praying together. At our monthly meetings there is always work to do, and even after the meeting proper, when we have a little snack, about half of our group has to leave on account of time constraints. So yesterday was a day to just relax and chat, to enjoy each other's company and rejoice in so many blessings that have been given to us. That said, in our group of about 25 or so there are two or three strong personalities that, at times, well, what can I say, strong personalities are just that; strong. Yesterday they weren't there, and the gathering took on a decidedly different feel. Our hostess, Marilyn steped in for the reading and reflection, and it was beautiful. Our Minister, Rich, played his guitar quietly in the background. The sun broke through the grey overcast and streamed in through the windows with that slanted and weak winter brightness. Some spoke of Francis, others of Our Blessed Mother, and I think we all felt the presence of Jesus there.
I know for myself, my comfort zone was nudged big time when I became Grand Knight for our K of C Council 1395. I don't consider myself G.K. material, didn't have any aspirations for it and tried to stay clear of the one-man committee that was trying to find a worthy G.K. But as I believe, God, when he wants us for something, he knocks on that door, and keeps knocking, nudging, until we let him in. It was good to hear others speak of their experiences this way, and in that, knowing we are not alone in our dealings with God. As I write this I see more clearly how we must let God lead us, to almost shout the phrase that has been sung so many times before; Lord, show me the way! Show me Your Will that I may do it!

Christmas Eve Day

Hopefully I'll find time this Christmas weekend to post. A lot has gone on during this Advent, almost too much. Isn't that always the way this time of year? The secular world nudges in no matter how hard we try to keep it out. And we really don't want to keep it out completely, we just are trying to keep focused. And that can be very hard unless one lives in a cave. Maybe that wouldn't be so bad...

Merry and Blessed Christmas, and thanks for all the exchange of ideas during this year!

Peace to all as we await the Lord!

A reflection...

A wonderful reflection today in Medjugorje Day By Day.


C. S. Lewis...wrote that "Next to the Blessed Sacrament itself, your neighbor is the holiest object presented to your senses. If he is your Christian neighbor, he is holy in almost the same way, for in him also Christ is vere latitat-truly hidden."
In this sense the love of neighbor is parallel to the love of God; we cannot love one without the other since they are inseparable-the vine and the branches, the Mystical Body of Christ.

Reflect of the words of St. Teresa of Avila: "Though we do not have Our Lord with us in the bodily presence, we have our neighbor, who, for the ends of love and loving service, is as good as Our Lord himself."

I just wanted to share that with everyone. It seems that in these days of Advent I know I myself, in prayer, have felt, seen and heard many gifts given to me by Our God, for me, more than ever before. It seems every time I turn He is there, though not in plain sight, he is there watching to see if I saw, if I caught the glimpse, or felt His touch.

Our God is a wonderful God.

Confession

Yesterday, being Thursday is our day of Adoration in our parish. I have the 5-6pm hour, which gives me just enough time to get there after work. After Sister Barbara left about 5:10 I was alone with Our Lord. For the beautiful silence in there it could have been midnight. Only the creaks and groans of an old church. During this Advent season the Friars are offering Confession from 6:30-7:30, after which Our Lord is returned to the Tabernacle. This Saturday, on the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe I will re-consecrate to Our Lord Jesus through Mary for the third year in a row, so having confession available was truly a God-send. I've been thinking lately about Confession, and how last Sat. with a priest who hasn't heard my confession before I sort of froze up, and never got to the place where I wanted to go, to confess a different level, you might say, of my sinful life. I just ended up repeating the same round of sins as usual, the same repeatable sins that I do week in and week out. I don't know, but I think I may have these sins, to some degree, the rest of my working life, because I relate these sins to my work place, the place where I am 10 hours a day, 5 days a week. I struggle with these sins, pray about them, gain on them and then, they overtake me again. A constant battle, but the Lord has granted me the gift to know that these sins, these challenges are my cross to carry for Him, my road to travel to Him.
In Confession I think Fr. R. was able to understand somewhat where I was going in explaining the reason why I wanted him to be more firm with me and not fall back on the mantra "Your too hard on yourself!" I'm done with that penance. I need to hear it from a Priest, from Jesus-on- earth that when you daydream during Evening Prayer that is wrong, don't do it, focus on the incense rising to Heaven. That even though one tries to do three Rosaries' a day, if not even one is done truly from the heart then why bother? These human frailties bother me, and I hope Fr. R understood, I think he did but more importantly do I understand what He wants of me, or am I just listening to myself, dreaming of what I'd like to be.

Andrew, my Guardian Angel

Today is the Feast of St. Andrew, which is my middle name, my Dad's name and also the name of my Guardian Angel. How do I know that, you ask? Well, two years ago we were out at Franciscan University in Ohio, visiting our son. If you've never been there it's worth going to if your in the area. For myself, I can truly say that on that campus I felt the real presence of God every time we were there. He is in the buildings, on the grounds, with the Franciscan priests, the brothers and sisters but especially with the students. It's quite a place. The have a beautiful replica of the Portiunculla, the first church that Francis rebuild, and very near to that chapel is a Memorial to the Unborn. H and I always spend time there, sitting on one of the stone benches,
each with our own thoughts. On that occasion, in a great overcoming rush of memory, I remembered that in my previous life, now far back in a time I can't believe at times it actually was, my first wife became pregnant, and she had an abortion. Our baby, and she had the abortion. And I let it happen. Then, as even now, in times of stress, I'm not very good. I usually either freak out, yelling, saying things I shouldn't, emotions running rampant, sense out the window. Or I clam up and hide in myself for a while, hide until someone else takes care of the problem or it goes away. I remember doing just that, I can still remember the numb feeling that settled in. Her Mother even helped her. It was bizarre. I put the whole thing away, put it away in one of those dark chinks we all have just for those occasions. Until Our Lord brought it back for me on that warm October afternoon, sitting on the smooth stone bench, as I gazed at dried red roses that someone had left, the many sets of rosary beads draped across the headstone, the small candles flickering. He let it come back with the strength of a freight train, no holding back, Our Lord saying here, here is a gentle reminder of what man can do, what we do do every day, what I did back then. And it hurt. I had never felt that hurt, never had anyone snatched away like that and I let it happen and he/she was gone. I will always carry with me that tremendously sad howl that came from that dark chink where I'd stored that memory. I'll remember both days, the day I wanted to forget and the day I remembered forever.

And after I'd calmed down, after prayer, after H held me and didn't say a word, all of a sudden he was just there, and I knew with 100% certainty that he'd been there forever, my Guardian Angel, right next to me. I felt God's love coming from him, he felt so familiar and I knew his name was Andrew. In his own G.A way he was saying hey, I'm here, I'm yours, ask me and I'll help.

Andrew has been busy hanging with Helen, whose been battling a possible case of Dengue Fever. By the look of things, he helped.

Adoration

Okay, I admit, I was wrong. Dengue Fever is the correct name, and it is a mosquito borne virus which is non-treatable and lasts about a week. Ignore most of my last post. H had just about everything that most internet sites explained it as, plus it really puts a strain on your liver. Dr. S. called late today and said to only eat bananas, rice, applesauce and toast. Those foods the liver has not quite such a hard time breaking down. H has been eating tiny bit s of everything but what's on that food list, hence the upset stomach and the constant burping.

The road to recovery is taken with baby steps...



H and I signed up for an hour of Adoration at St. Martha's Church in Enfield. This church has a beautiful Latin Rite Mass every Sunday at noon. They've had a small adoration chapel for the last 27 years but at the last Mass we went to the group of parishioners who oversee the scheduling had a table set to sign up anyone who could take an hour or more. The Friday night from 6-7 was open, so we took it. Who wants Friday night from 6-7? Not too many people, by the looks of it. We thought it a good Franciscan thing to do, take the hour that nobody wants. Although we've been to Adoration there many times this was our first night with the 6-7 slot. H couldn't go but she said go, I'll be fine, so I went. Four people there but at 6:05 I was the only one left. And it stayed that way for the whole hour I was there. Just me, the wind outside the window and Our Lord, about five feet away from me. After my readings and prayers it was just one on one, He and I, in the quiet of that room. It was, I feel, the most peaceful and uplifting Adoration Hour I've ever spent. If H wasn't home so sick I would have spent another hour there with Him. At 7:00 no one showed, and by 7:15 I decided to follow the directions on the back of the door for reposing Our Lord. That in itself, although just entailing blowing out four candles, reposing Our Lord and locking the door will always be remembered by me in a special way. I did something special for him. I helped put Our Lord to bed, one might say. For me, it was something especially moving, especially beautiful.

Update #2

After more blood work done this morning Dr. S. phoned with the results: White and red cell count both up, with the white doubling from the last tests (wed.). At that moment he was leaning towards some sort of Hepatitis. Then, 10 minutes later Margaret called to tell us that 16 year old Patrick, who had gone to Haiti with the group was in Mass General diagnosed with Dun gay Fever. Helen immediately called Dr. S. back and he said yes, it all might be making more sense. He said he's going to stop the Hep. tests and focus on the Dun gay Fever tests. One catches this fever from breathing the dust from the dirt roads in poor, third world countries like Haiti. The defecation from all the animals using the road, plus anything that dies on the road turns to dust and Helen's' group breathed a lot of it on they're two hour journey to a far away school. She said they all had handkerchiefs wrapped around their mouths but I guess it doesn't matter much. On last year's trip one of the guys who went contracted D.F. but never had it treated. He just rode it out. I guess it eventually goes away. Yeow! I told her if I had known of this hazard I would have gotten the group a box of decent respirators. We use them at work and a box of 15 I can get for about $16.00. Hindsight is ...

Update

So this is the latest with Helen; Blood tests confirm no H1N1, no stomach ailment that is known, not even an allergic reaction to the chloroquine. She could still have malaria, even though she took pills to not get it, or it could be a virus, which will just have to work its way out, or who knows. More blood tests on Friday to see if her red and white blood cell count goes up. Right now both are way down, which leaves her very susceptible to any infection. So the two of us are just going to hang low for Thanksgiving. Today she was up for most of the day, hungry as heck but a tuna fish sandwich finally did her in and she's nauseous again. Keep her in your prayers that the Doctors either figure it out or it finally works its way away.

Nasty business

A small lull in the blogging scene, although I've been reading plenty of them, just not commenting or posting on my own. Helen returned from Haiti last Thursday evening, I picked her up at Logan in Boston. There's always a little getting used to each other every time H returns from a trip but this time was different. By the end of the day Friday she was sick as a poor dog. And of course its the weekend, so its either the emergency room or wait it out until Monday, which we did. Nausea, ache all over and a splitting headache. A trip to Dr. S neither confirmed nor ruled out H1N1, but they did all the swabs and sent her to the lab with everything in a zip lock bag and a particulate respirator to wear when going into the hospital. He said it also could be a bug picked up in Haiti, but she'll have to wait until the tests are done to find out positive. Nasty business, getting sick...

The Weekend

Quiet on the posting front. H is still in Haiti, I'll pick her up this Thursday evening. I've been out of sorts a bit since she left. It's funny how things work. As she made her plans to go to Haiti I made my plans as to what I'd do when she was gone. Nothing special, work on this, fix that. And I did get to most of them, although I couldn't get the leaf blower fixed (too much for me.) I made plans to spend more time in prayer, since the house will be quiet and I'll have extra time. Maybe take a drive to a neighboring town where a favorite church of ours has a daily Adoration that lasts until 10:00pm. Just things I could do on my own, small events to help me through my weekend. Well, none of those things materialized. Thursday Adoration was it. No Mass on Sat. morning. But instead of those carefully laid plans of mine God had his own; the gift of making breakfast for my daughter Celena Sat. morning. Taking care of her laundry (I don't mind doing it. It's been a long time since I helped her out this way.) Celena is a freshman in college, she commutes and our schedules never really coincide, so it was wonderful to spend a bit of time together and help her out. Just different stuff. But you know, maybe because Helen has been gone for a few days and I've been in a non-talking mode, in those times when I was alone, raking the leaves, cleaning at work, it seems I was able to concentrate just a little more on that conversation with God we all try to keep going 24/7. I found I was able to focus on the Mysteries a little bit longer than usual as I said my Rosary. Small prayerful times like those. And realizations that come to oneself during the course of the day, usually buried under the onslaught of our daily workload, to be forgotten almost as soon as they're revealed. Small stuff that grew in size as the weekend went on. Our Lord taking care of me for no reason. I'm just so glad I didn't miss it all.

Now is the time for prayer...

Today is a fast day for me. I've sort of complained about fasting in the past, but I won't anymore. Since H is in Haiti, I figure this is a good opportunity to actually do what I seek, which is to have more quiet time in prayer which will help me (I hope!) to turn inward more. To say there's not enough time in the day is no excuse, but it's somewhat true. I'm going to let my monkish desires prevail, or whatever I think they are. This week is fairly quiet in terms of meetings at night, etc. We gather at the church tonight for evening prayer together, but that's it, and I'm looking forward to that. But I do have to say, living alone is not what I'm used to, spiritually. When H and I are together we do everything spiritual together. Going alone is a bit different for me. It really makes me appreciate the fact the we did begin our conversion somewhat at the same time, we professed together, etc. Two became one, ain't that a fact. Even now, after all these years, the memory of my old self curls around like a smoke, which I'm just seeing out of the corner of my eye. Not good. I think Our Lord put a special trial here just for me these next 10 days. A little invitation, and a challenge for me, too.

Now is the time for prayer.

Little Children of Mary

Helen is on her way to Haiti with the group Little Children of Mary to do some mission work. This is her second trip, and she's really been looking forward to getting back there. Ten days down there, and this time they go up-country to a school that hardly gets any visitors with supplies from the states. It used to be a 6 hour ride but with the new road it's only 2, so that's one of the highlights of the trip. Please all keep her and all of LCoM in your prayers. Haiti isn't the stablest of country's, but Margret has gone about a dozen times and knows a lot of people. Also, and this is very exciting, H and Margret have a meeting set up with a high-ranking Minister whom they met over the summer at a LCoM fundraiser. The plan: To change the mind-set of this Minister, who has the power to put weight behind a push for increased abortions on Haiti. M and H hope that through all of our prayers, the intersession of the BVM and they're own witness and faith that they can change this woman's mind to drop the abortion push. Helen was most nervous about this part of the trip, how she couldn't hope that whatever she said to the Minister would do any good. I said to just let God speak through you, and let the words work. We shall see...