I bought a bike.

 I bought a new bike.
  Actually, I didn't buy it, H did, I just picked it out.  We went into the bike shop, and one of the first things she says, is "Don't look at the price!", which I didn't, sort of.  I looked but ignored it.  I settled for a Trek, one from their Hybrid line, a really nice bike and one that seems good for me.  I haven't really ridden it yet, around the neighborhood near the bike shop, but that's about it.  Tomorrow, perhaps, if all goes well.
  I used to ride a lot, two, three times a week, spring, summer, fall.  Then I got away from it, for many reasons, time, age, other priorities.  I became more focused on other things, and riding did take up a lot of time, two, sometimes three hours a trip.  But back then I had the time, or so I thought, to do things like ride a bike, watch hours of t.v., take on different challenges, adventures, anything to fill up the time in a day, not knowing or realizing that someone was asking me to come home, in a very loud voice, for many years.  It had been so long since I'd heard this voice I didn't even recognize it.  It seemed alien, disturbing.  His voice can be like that, when you've been away for such a long time, a very long time in my case, and the ears of your heart can become encrusted with the grime of the world.  Mine was like that, encrusted, and covered over with many rocks, put there by me, with every action that I offended God with.  His Church I offended.  His Mother I offended, and His Son I offended.  But through all these things that I did, worldly things with no thought of any consequence, I rode.  With a bike ride everything went away, all the cares of the day, the anxieties, doubts, the voice, everything.  It was me challenging me, me pushing myself into oblivion, physically.  In a new-age sort of modern way I guess maybe then I was close to Him, in the silence of the ride or the sounds of the world as I passed through it.  And it did keep me fit, which is probably most important, and that is really why I'm going to get back to it, for the fitness part and also to ride together with H.  We do mostly everything together, and with God's grace we will ride together, this time!  At 58 I'm not going to beat myself up anymore.  I have to take care of my body, not abuse it, for it was given to me by our Father in Heaven, to take care of as best I can. It's the same with the other aspects of my life. I've tried to jettison all of those bad habits and bad choices that kept the rocks and crust surrounding my heart. Through prayer and guidance I've learned how to say "I'm not going to do this" and do it, and "I don't need this", and not have it.  I'll not lie; these actions are accomplished only about half the time, the un-learning of a lifetime of darkness will take the rest of my life.  I look at it this way; for every two or three stones I lift from my heart I manage to replace them with at least one. But I don't really mind the labor.  It is a life of penance, isn't it?  For me it is.  In seeking Him, the silence is supreme.  The Narrow Way is ever so hard, but oh so quiet when one can see the road clearly.  
  So I will ride again, maybe tomorrow, just a warm-up ride.  I'll get my bike blessed by Fr. M., a good blessing from his old black book of prayers and blessings, from the Old Rite, complete with Holy Water.  I will ride and pray, and thank God for His consolations and praise Him for the desolations as He gives them to me.  I hope to write more here or perhaps on my other blogs that I haven't touched in months and months, but time will tell.  I don't want to whine.  

First Rule:  The love that moves and causes one to choose must descend form above, that is, from the love of God, so that before one chooses he should perceive that the greater or less attachment for the object of his choice is solely because of His Creator and Lord.  (from) Christian Warfare  
 

The feast of Pentecost

                                                                                                                                                                                       But, behold, now, if I shall ask any one of you whether he loveth God, he will answer with all boldness and quietness of spirit "I do love him." But at the very beginning of this day's Lesson from the Gospel, ye have heard what the Truth saith " If a man love Me, he will keep My word." The test, then, of love, is whether it is showed by works. Hence the same John hath said in his Epistle I. iv. 20, v. 3 "If a man say, I love God, and keepeth not His commandments, He is a liar." Then do we indeed love God, and keep His commandments, if we deny ourselves the gratification of our appetites. Whosoever still wandereth after unlawful desires, such an one plainly loveth not God, for he saith, Nay, to that which God willeth.

Lesson ii, Roman Breviary, Homily of St. Gregory, Pope

Homily 30 on the Gospels

A decision made...

Sometimes there just isn't an easy way to write about things.  I haven't posted much in the last year or so, and to be honest, I'm not that good of a writer to just be pumping out the first thing that comes into my head.  Usually the first thing that comes out of my mouth is nonsense!  Through spiritual reading and prayer I've realized that I'm the type of person who, when the conversation begins to take on weight, I must slow down and keep my mouth closed, and my ears open.  I believe that, when we give ourselves more and more to God, to knock down that invisible wall that we sometimes put up between us and Him, that wall of control that we hate to give up, when we do what God asks and love Him completely, our lives will change with His flow of Grace.  I've found that it's too hard to live with that feeling that I must hold the reins.  There are certain things that, as a man, I must do.  I must follow the three precepts as a man must; God, Family, Duty. But in all the other aspects of my life, I'm done with putting myself out there, and for the sake of what?  The sake of the world?  No, this world holds no interest for me any longer.  A world that has forgotten completely and totally about God.  A world where man comes first in almost everything, and God is a distant last. In the last few years I've come to insulate myself by surrounding myself with like-minded people, devout Catholics who follow the old theology of the church, who attend and believe deeply in the Traditional Latin Mass and who try to put God first before everything.  A daunting task, that is at times.  And through all of this I've tried to live my life in the footsteps of our Lord Jesus Christ by following the path of ST. Francis as a Secular Franciscan.  Francis' complete devotion to Christ, his life of complete abandonment to our God has been a tremendous inspiration to me.  I cannot imagine myself as not a Franciscan.  And this brings me to this juncture in my life, to a place where, as a Catholic and a Franciscan I can go no longer.  I cannot remain as a 'Secular Franciscan'.  The Seculars follow a path that has been mapped out since after Vatican II and follows the Novus Ordo Mass and all the new theology that that Mass brings with it.  I, and H also, we are no longer there.  As of last fall, H and I have been on a one year leave of absence from our Fraternity.  At that final meeting I realized that the gulf between our ways of living the Franciscan Rule was too great.  The Rule of 1221, written and given to the brothers by Francis himself, is, I believe, the only way to live one's life as a Franciscan.  To the letter, to the letter, to the letter.  Francis' own words.  That way of Franciscan life is gone, washed away in this era of modernism and in a world that puts man first.  I informed our Minister to begin the process of withdrawal.  

  Where do we go from here?  Onward with our Journey to God.  For the past year and a half H and I  have been Novices again, as we begin this part of our lives as Third Order Franciscans.  We have joined an Association which focuses on living the Franciscan life by the Rule of 1221.  As members of a Latin Mass community it makes perfect sense to begin living and promoting our lives as the Third Order did before Vat.II.  We have started a Fraternity here.  We have members.  We have called to God, and He has heard us.  This world is a crazy, out of control place.  We must all find our way to God, for He calls and we must listen.

St. Joseph the Worker

Hymn

O Joseph, heavenly hosts thy

worthiness proclaim,

And Christendom conspires to

celebrate thy fame,

Thou who in purest bonds wert to

the Virgin bound;

How glorious is thy name renowned.

Thou, when thou didst behold thy

Spouse about to bear,

Wert sore oppressed with doubt,

wert filled with wondering care;

At length the angel's word thy

anxious heart relieved:

She by the Spirit hath conceived.

Thou with thy newborn Lord didst

seek far Egypt's land,

As wandering pilgrims ye fled o'er

the desert sand;

That Lord, when lost, by thee is in

the Temple found,

While tears are shed and joys

abound.

Not till death's hour is past do

other men obtain

The need of holiness, and glorious

rest attain;

Thou, like to Angels made, in life

completely blest,

Dost clasp thy God unto thy breast.

O Holy Trinity, thy suppliant

servants spare;

Grant us to rise to heaven for

Joseph's sake and prayer,

And so our grateful hearts to thee

shall ever raise

Exulting canticles of praise.

Amen.

(from) 1 Vespers, May 1st

ST. JOSEPH THE WORKMAN

Spouse of the Blessed Virgin Mary

Confessor

Prayers...

  I will raise me up a faithful

priest, who shall do according

to my heart, and my soul ;

and I will build him a faithful

house, and he shall walk

all days before my annointed.

Ps.  O Lord, remember David,

and all his meekness.

Glory be to the Father... 

Introit : 1 Reg. ii 35

(from) Mass for the election of a Pope, ST. Andrew Daily Missal

Feast of the Holy Family (TLM)

"He was subject to them."
"Who was subject?"  St. Bernard asks, "and to whom?"
  A God to men!  Yes, the God whom the angels serve, whom the Principalities and Powers obey.  He was subject to Mary and not to Mary only, but to Joseph also, for Mary's sake.  That a God should obey a human creature; here is humility without parallel.  That the same human creature should command God; here is a height and depth nowhere else attained.  Man, learn to obey.  Earth, learn to consent to a low estate.  Dust, learn to humble yourself, for the Evangelist says of your Creator:  "He was subject to them," and there is no doubt that this means, to Mary and Joseph.  Blush then, proud ashes.  A God humbles Himself; while you exalt yourself.  A God becomes subject to men, while you, seeking to rule over men, put yourself above your Creator.  O Man, if you will not condescend to follow the example of a man, surely it will not be beneath you to follow your Creator. (3rd. Noct.)

Thanksgiving Day

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.  As I sit and write, today, Thanksgiving, I feel I must not fall into let's say, a mood, a way of thinking that I'm prone to, and then  my musings will usually take on that mood.  If I did, this post I'm sure would be dark, for the world in which we live, as Catholics, is a dark place, with he-that-I-will-not-name firmly in control.  No matter.  The Light of Christ's Resurrection still shines bright for those who see.  
  We'll go to my sisters today, where my parents will be, which is a great blessing for us.  Many of my friends' parents are now gone, and as we get older these changes in our lives become more frequent, as aunts and uncles and even close family members leave this life here on earth behind.  H's parents are both gone, and she misses both very much, especially her Mom.  I still have my Mom and Dad and I treat them so shabbily at times it makes me sick.  No matter what I confess at confession I almost always have to add "I did not honor my Mother and Father...".  Lord, how low can I bring myself?  
I complain bitterly about things, even things I have control over, and I still complain!  Backwards, or what?  I'm not big on resolutions at any time of the year, only the slow, often painful, lonely road to Heaven.  I find after these moments that that road is very far away.  Jesus does pick us up every time we fall, but only if we look towards Him, and ask Him for His help.  I fall, and fall, and fall, but unlike before I'm more aware of my place with Him, and  I'm obligated to ask Him for help.  I have heard His Word and I believe, which means I have no choice anymore.  Isn't that beautiful?  No choice but to adore God!  No choice but to ask our Mother for His graces!  No choice but to ask Jesus to tell us the Will of God!  Among all the other people, events, good and bad in my life I must still put God first, and acknowledge Him as the one to be completely and absolutely thankful for for everything that has been my life so far.  And also, to pray for all who have either not heard His Word, or turned from it, to hear again His sweet, quiet call to all of us here on earth, here amongst the weeds. 

Just thought I'd share...

The Last Sunday of October

Feast of our Lord Jesus Christ the King

  In his Encyclical of December 11, 1925, H.H. Pius XI denounced the great modern heresy of laicism.  It refuses to recognize the rights of God and His Christ over persons and peoples and organizes the lives of individuals, families and of society itself, as though God did not exist.  This laicism substitutes pride and egoism.  It begets jealousy between individuals, hatred between classes and rivalry between nations. 

  The world denies Christ because it ignores His royal prerogatives.  It must be instructed on this subject.  Now "a yearly feast can attain this end, more effectively than the weightiest documents issued by ecclesiastical authority."  The Holy Father has instituted this new feast to be a public, social and official declaration of the royal rights of Jesus, as God the Creator, to be known and recognized, in a way most suitable to man and to society by the sublimest acts of religion - particularly by Holy Mass.  In fact, the end of the Holy Sacrifice is the acknowledgment of God's complete dominion over us, and our complete dependence on Him.  And this act is accomplished, not only on Calvary but also through the royal priesthood of Jesus which never ceases in His kingdom, which is heaven.  The great reality of Christianity is not a corpse hanging from a cross, but the risen Christ reigning in all the glory of His triumph in the midst of His elect who are His conquest.  And that is why the Mass begins with the finest vision of the Apocalypse where the Lamb of God is acclaimed by angels and saints.
  The Holy Father has expressed his wish that this feast should be celebrated towards the end of the liturgical year, on the last Sunday of October, as the consummation of all the mysteries by which Jesus has established His royal powers and nearly on the eve of All-Saints, where He already realizes them in part in being "the King of kings and the crown of All Saints"; until He shall be the crown of all those on earth whom He saves, especially by the Mass.  It is indeed principally by the Eucharist which is both a sacrifice and a sacrament, that Christ, now in glory assures the results of the victorious sacrifice of Calvary, by taking possession of souls through the application of the merits of His Passion and thereby unites them as members to their head.  The end of the Eucharist, says the Catechism of the Council of Trent, is "to form one sole mystic body of all the faithful" and so to draw them in the cult which Christ, king-adorer, as priest and victim, rendered in a bloody manner on the cross and now renders, in an unbloody manner, on the stone altar of our churches and on the golden altar in heaven, to Christ, king-adored, as Son of God, and to His Father whom He offers these souls.

  (from) The Saint Andrew Daily Missal, 1951

A parting of paths...

Next Tuesday H and I have been called to meet with our fraternity council, concerning our spiritual direction, or, as the e-mail stated, to "discuss where you are and where you are going." 
For us, it is simple.  We are firmly pursuing life as Franciscans by following the Rule of 1221.  This original rule, given by St. Francis to the laity, is basically ignored by the Secular Franciscans of today.  We find that living our lives firmly rooted in the traditions and laws of our Roman Catholic faith, through the glory of the Traditional Latin Mass, we are living as, we believe, Franciscans should live.  Our fraternity, and I imagine most fraternities who exist solely in accordance with the Novus Ordo Mass, the New Mass, will be forever intwined with the modernism of today.  With no apologies, H and I refuse to go down that road any longer.  If our paths must permanently part, so be it.  In obedience, we will attend the meeting, and present our side.  But we will not plead.  I am not a good apologist for my faith.  I cannot argue 'the good fight' like others I know.  I will end this post by saying that I will follow our God wherever He leads me, even, if so, unto death.  I pray always to remain completely humble and filled with the knowledge that no thought or decision I have is my own, but His who is our Father.
Please pray for us as we appear to have come to an end of one road.

The Transitus

  Last evening we celebrated the Transitus of St. Francis and it was so good to be with the Franciscan family again.  The church was filled with Sisters and Brothers, priests and other Seculars and a handful of just regular people.  All there to celebrate the completion of Francis' life on earth, to hear of his final acts and the words he spoke to his brothers.  In its own way it was a beautiful ceremony in a very beautiful chapel, but for me, these events are always tinged in sadness, for inside I long to see these ceremonies as they where fifty, sixty or a hundred years ago.  God has turned me from the Novus Ordo Mass to, I believe, the full force of the one true Catholic way of life, living daily through the Traditional Latin Mass and the change of heart that comes with that.  So to hear all the "Hello, how are you?" and to see all the hugs and greetings going on before the ceremony always depresses me a little.  And it shouldn't, it wasn't a Mass, and everyone was truly enjoying themselves.  I was, as usual the only miserable one there (well, maybe H too).  No matter, it's only me.  I think one reason for my selfishness is because I don't get to spend much extra time in church, so when I do get the chance I like it to be quiet for a while.  Again, it's only me and I'm whining again.  I don't know if I could write a blog and not whine.  But I'll try to not whine much, I promise.  These are all tremendous faults, and in the quietness at the end of the day I agonize over them and lately I've come to see that in all the complications of living a life called by God to follow His Son that in a way it's all right there before us, simply put by God through His Son, for us to see.  The problem; our worldly selves get in the way and we slip often from the God-centric life to man-centric life, the way of the world.  As a Franciscan I'm called to live just this life, in both worlds, and it is hard.  No amount of simplifying makes it, this life, any easier.  But I've become this way and I'm thankful to Him for it.  He has brought me along to this point in life for I don't know why.  It is not for me to question God.  I will accept all his actions, and I will try to love them also.  But at times I"m made aware of how hard it is to live a Franciscan life without the support of a fraternity, a community.  Oh blessed are those men and women who surrounded us last night!  In one way, in my way of thinking, their life is perhaps less lonely in only by being able to live together in a community, which is their family, their support group.  H and I are more or less out on our own, living a mostly solitary Franciscan life, but also a very Traditional Catholic life.  We live the Rule of 1221, which requires us to stay in this world and not to leave it, to live really with a foot balancing us in both worlds, with more leaning towards the abandonment of World.  We do come together formally once a month but right now it is a fledgling group, with two of the five of us in discernment with myself our pitiful leader, trying to inspire and lead.  I find myself praying about this place He has put me in often, because I do not at all understand God's ways.  I pray for guidance and strength to be a good leader, but I just don't know.  Again, in the bitter-sweetness of last night I know the spirit of Francis lingered, and I felt a common purpose in our all being there, in our being Franciscan.  The call to follow Christ is unbelievably strong, and I'm dumb-founded that the world cannot hear His Voice.

Is this just me?

Oh, Mother of sorrows,

I call to you again.

Guide me and comfort me,

for I am lost.

The Narrow Way is dark

most times, and the trials are many,

pure joy few.

Help me through with grace

un-earned,

to see, to follow

the Light of the Son.

What His weather brings...

We're hunkered down here in CT, waiting on the wind and the line of thunderstorms that are aimed this way.  I'm sure the power will go out soon, it always does lately when the weather storms.  No matter.  I have good holy candles ready to go, my books are at hand and my rosary waits.  God is good in all that He does, be it weather, joy, sadness, ill health, whatever.  I'm at the point right now anyway, that the secular world can just go away, I don't care what happens to it.  As a human race the things we say and do, here and around the globe is deeply disturbing.  The people who do not fear God are so numerous and their actions so, so, I can't even find an appropriate word to use here.  I wish I could just say I don't understand it all and be content with that, then I could just ignore the world and stay in my own little shell.  I'm trying to stay in my shell, but I just can't seem to ignore the world.  It's just that as the years go by, as I do not reject God but try to embrace Him, more and more I'm able to see the hand of satan in all of this.  It is satan against God, as clear as day.  Evil running rampant and the Good just waiting, quietly.  We are here, Lord, and I know You hear us but perhaps the test is on, I don't know.  It's impossible to say, but we who are watching see the hand of darkness as he pushes forward more and more.  And You, God?  I will not question God.  I will fear the Lord, my God, and hope for wisdom.
  Wisdom.  Give me wisdom!  Please, Lord just a thimble full of spiritual wisdom, to quench my appetite for you, you whom I crave.  At times I feel as if I've not gone anywhere on this road, or I walked a circle and returned to the beginning of myself.  It's not that I have, but my longing is still so there, so very strong that it is unquenchable.  We have just recently began teaching CCD at our parish, H 1st grade and me 7th.  I have never taught anyone anything in my whole life.  I have not a clue as to what I am doing.  Just follow the book.  Ok.  Unfortunately there is no way to get all the lessons for one Sunday into 50 minutes.  Especially when I veer off to incorporate my own ideas. (Yikes!)  After only two classes I can see that there is always room for good Catholic Tradition, and I love to give that to them.  I only have 5 youths, but that is enough for me.  Each time I go I'm scared to death, but I feel so good after, even though I have no idea if anyone learned anything or not.  But God is good, in season and out of season, when I'm making sense and when I'm not.  He even gave me words to share this stormy evening.  And occasional wisdom to share with the kids.

  The line of storms is almost here, so I'll finish this up.  Lord, watch over the homeless tonight, and all the men and women who must go out to assist our fellow man.  And stay close to me tonight, our Saviour Jesus, as I speak with our Mother through the Rosary.  

May god give us His rest. 

Immaculate Heart of Mary

Blessed Mother,
I'm trying to keep you front and center, a little more often today
than usual.
Your Immaculate Heart
is surely bleeding for us now, more than ever. 
Have we listened and acted on your words
past and present?
I think not. 
Hear us as we pray
and place our gifts before the Father.

Hail Mary, full of grace...

Chapel, 5-7pm

It is so easy to fall into 'bad habits'.  What started as having a selection of music (Pandora) to having a better selection of music (Spotify), just wanting to have some chant and Sacred Music for easy access on the internet has turned into a music hoarding frenzy, with me finding music and artists from long ago and adding them to the Spotify playlist.  Not something I should be doing, wasting (yes, wasting!) time downloading all those old albums that pop into my head, making a list, etc, you know how it works.  Not really the thing I should be doing anytime.  And then I get a song stuck in my head, which is the worst.  All flow with God is gone.  My attempt at having 'one long prayer with God' is gone.  "Rose Darling" by Steely Dan.  A catchy tune for sure but with lyrics that now I find completely un-agreeable, although 30 something years ago I don't think I thought about those lyrics much.  Now, in this time of my life I do not need nor want the distraction.  Still, it only takes but a moment, and the desire for just a simple trip down memory lane can escalate into desires of the flesh that have no good in them. 

The desire of the wicked leads to doom.  How many times have I read that in the Liturgy of the Hours?  One need not necessarily be wicked to be lead to doom.  We strive and then we are set back, and sometimes we don't even know we have fallen.  St. Francis said something like 'The devil will pursue a soul forever, all he needs is a crack the size of a hair.'  It is impossible to keep satan out for it seems at times that we (me) offer him fistfuls of hair.  In this world, unless we are almost completely sheltered (cloistered) we are prone to the rage of the ocean, to be tossed by the waves.  Who can survive?  None, if we give in, give up. 

 

  Adoration, for me, as I've said before, is two hours, 5-7pm.  Our Lord pulls no punches with me, I really never know what to expect as I kneel before Him.  For many months the long stay with Him was troubled, for the peace that I thought I should find as He gazed at me was never there.  I felt at times that I'd walked up to a dark wall and stood, not being able to go any farther, not realizing that the wall I thought was the Face of God was really my own face.  I'd put myself, my pride, my thoughts of control between me and my God.  

  Prayer and reflection bring about these changes, the Holy Spirit, who hears us call, brings about these changes.  Our Virgin Mother's intercession helps bring about these changes, this tearing down of the wall of self that hinders our journey to God. 

           Salvation is only through the Cross,

 the Cross held firmly in our hands,

held tight with the arms

of our heart.

His world

Everything is a gift from the Lord
                                              Everything.
It is in the love for Him that I must diminish self, for self is of this world and not of His.

Sometimes its these simple truths I've forgotten, or perhaps never knew.  So many thoughts come rushing back to me, ideas made known and then forgotten. 

Why do I drift from His world to this so often?  

Why can't I stay rooted in His world? 

My miserable all...

I am kneeling at the kneeler here at the Adoration Chapel, very near our Lord.  I estimate He's about 5 feet away.  I am not worthy to be here, for so long a time, 2 hours.  I'm trying not to sit, but I know my legs won't make it.  I have the 5-7pm hours and the more Iv'e prayed about it and talked with others, perhaps returning to adore our Lord  every week at the same time is not necessarily a good thing.  Am I getting too used to coming here and has the whole Adoration for 2 hours become 'too common'?  For me, I think it has.  To be in front of God, it's just too overwhelming.  How can I act with reverence, week after week.  I know Pope Benedict has encouraged us to go to Adoration, but did he necessarily mean to open more 24 hour Adoration chapels, or just to attend a Holy Hour when one is given?  I love being in front of The Blessed Sacrament, but I feel that for two hours I cannot give our Lord, God, His due.  I am at odds with myself about this.  I refuse to allow God to just become another obligation in my day.  God is all, and He deserves my miserable all.

The Lord draws all men...

  I'm in a place that I've never been.  I am not a leader, but a true follower, but now here I am; leading a group of men and women who are striving to become Third Order Franciscans.  I will not ask 'Why me?'  I refuse to ask.  I will ask Him 'How', though.  How do I bring the best spirit of Francis to the group?  How do I keep it fresh?  We are going backward in time, into somewhat, for us, uncharted territory.  This coming Monday will be our first meeting and I'm not prepared.  The members are committed to following the old Roman Breviary instead of the Liturgy of the Hours.  We don't really have one!  My copy, purchased on E-Bay is still in the mail.  A reproduction of the original is $295.00.  We've decided to, when called for during the meeting, when praying the Our Father and the Hail Mary to recite them in Latin.  I will learn them both in the tongue of the Church.  Lord, You've given me a full plate, and I hope to fulfill Your every wish.  I know this is You, Lord, working in and through me.  The Lord draws all men to Him!  I can feel you drawing me to you through these difficult challenges you put before me.  How can I resist this life, Lord?  I would be worthless if I did. 

Reflection...

For more than a month now we've had a young Haitian girl (9 years old) named Jodelin staying with us, along with a nun, Sr. Cadet, also from Haiti.  Jodeline lost her leg below the knee in the earthquake, and she's here to receive a new prosthesis from the Children's Hospital.  There is so much to say about having them here for the last month, but the experience is still too real, too close to me right now to write about it in any detail.  For me, it's the New Testament come to life.  It's my Franciscan calling being lived out everyday, right here, in my home.  H has been bringing them to all the doctor's appointments while I've been at work.  Monday Jodeline gets her real prosthesis and then she is done, they'll be ready to return to Haiti.  I've only now been able to bring myself to write only this much about this experience, which God has graced us with.  He knows all of our weaknesses and uses them to give others strength.  I was and still am the most unworthy of vessels for this job, but I have seen the face of Our Lord so often that my whole way of thinking has been turned around.  Words without actions are worthless.  Into my world that I thought I knew stepped three women who showed me the meaning of love and action; Helen, Sr. Cadet and of course, Jodeline.

A different path...

After many months of prayer, prayer which came to me in many different forms and from many varied places H and I have decided to  take a slightly different yet parallel road on our journey to Heaven.  Our Lord called us to join the Secular Franciscan Order many years ago, and now He calls again, directing us to the path of Third Order Franciscans.  The reasons are too many to post; God draws us to Him and we respond, most times in ways we would never imagine.  In discerning this new path I have tried to humble myself in my thoughts and actions to the utmost of what I can know, meaning, I have tried to give everything over to Our Lord through Our Blessed Virgin Mother.  I am nothing, and in that nothingness I garner my strength.  When I think, even abstractly, that I am in charge, in charge without knowing I call it, when the will takes over my thinking, instead of letting the soul do the work, I become terrified.  I cannot do this, I cannot start a chapter.  Yes, not only to become TOF, but to start a chapter here at our parish.  Tomorrow, the 23rd, we'll be having a 'Meeting of Inquiry', just a small get together to see who might be interested in what we are doing.  Many people have inquired to us about the Third Order, knowing we are Franciscans, and if we could provide information to them.  The desire is there, in people we know.  I believe the Latin Mass has brought this idea of a Third Order into the beginnings of a birth, of sorts.  Pray for us as we begin again down the to Our God, following in the footsteps of Jesus, holding the hand of Francis.

Week One

Who was there, Lord,
in that first week of Lent?
When I, at the prayer service,
(not even a Mass)
listened, dissapointed, (in myself)
as a deacon spoke of you.
I hope he was a deacon but it was not my church
and I did not know the man.
Who was there?
Was I, as I went away angry, for not having been satisfied,
not fulfilled?


I had forgotten about the desert.


My Lents have always been filled with someone elses dreams,
of stories of such spiritual times
of joy, of trials.
Mine were mostly nothing to rejoice about,
to tell ones friends about.
Again, I'd missed the point.


I had forgotten
the silence of the silence.


The silence that enwraps you at times you don't expect,
like when that passage from the Bible strikes a chord.
As this past Thursday evening when at Adoration
one hour slipped to two...

...and the slow re-dawn of silence.

The Fount of Grace

Oh God,
so hollow is my cry to you
yet you hear, for no reason than
out of love
for me.

  The statue of the Blessed Virgin rests to the side of the small Latin Mass altar.  She is on the globe and her bare foot is standing on the neck of the serpent, right behind his head.  His head is raised up, mouth wide, fangs dull white in the quiet light of the church.  The master of lies has been slithering through the lives of men since ancient times, since being swept away, since failing the test.  Look around.  What times are these that we live in, where does not satan show his vile head?  He is in our neighborhoods, in our government and even in our churches.  Does he believe it is time for him to really raise his head, to come in for the kill?
  All graces flow through  Mary, our Mother.  We must go to Her now more than ever before.  Satan knows that too, more than anyone, and will confuse us in every way to make us think that She is irrelevant, that God is gone, Jesus is no more...
  The dark one's final destination is Mary, who waits for the word from God to finish this epic battle. It is the ages old battle for souls, and the devil's hatred of God drives him to destroy us, since he cannot touch God.  For us, it is our souls that are at stake, and always has been. 

For even with my sandals on
trodding through deep snow
and my hood pulled up
to focus thoughts
still
the mind will wander
where only darkness waits.
And ideas that are blown like dust,
left behind when morning comes,
 prayers and strength
return
to lead me to the Fount of Grace.

Week 1

WEEK I

SUNDAY

Evening Prayer I

Ant. 1  Like burning incense, Lord, let my prayer rise

           up to you.

Such beautiful words, and coming (or beginning) where they are, front and center at the start of The Four-Week Psalter.  I don't analyze the Office much, H and I just do them, and it's enough to just let the readings and psalms sink into the fiber and be there, to swim just beneath the surface all day.  Some days the readings are read and they go, fading from sight and mind like an old conversation, while other days the voice of the Apostle will stay with me all day, pointing out my faults and reminding me of things I don't even know.  Lately, maybe because I've added Mid-Day prayer to my lunch half-hour the feel of the whole reading seems to be of caution,of wariness and do not fall!  Guidance, always guidance.  6 months from now I'll probably feel much different, Maybe then, the theme will be one of rejoicing, but I doubt it.  The darkness of the world is only becoming more prevalent, I'm afraid, and our God seems only more than content in letting His plan run it's course.  No matter.  Whoever has ears ought to hear.   Ant. 2  You are my refuge, Lord; you are all that I desire in life.  For me a summing up of where I try to stand, but usually am not.  Where is that Ant. at 9:45am at a busy day at work?  Usually far from my mind.  Those are precisely the times we should remember them, but, at the same time, if we forget, we must let God take over, consciously or unconsciously, and let Him guide us, whether we know it or not.  I only know if this has happened when, at the end of the day, during my examination of conscience God gives me the grace to see His work in the day that has passed, to see the good (if any!) and the bad.  In the silence of silence He speaks, showing us, bending our will to His ways. 

...in prayer

 Trust.  This one word has seemingly filled my head since this past Sundays' Latin Mass gospel reading.  Matthew 8, 23-27.  Good, experienced fisherman all, and still they were terrified. Lord, save us, we perish.  We perish.  Am I perishing now?  I might be.  All my trust is in God, but after this gospel reading and the realization of how much God is asking of us, I don't know anymore.  Lord, save us.  Peter, James, John, they had Jesus right there with them, teaching them, opening their eyes; we, 2,000 plus years later, centuries of examples of tremendous trust by ordinary people and Saints, and we/I still am trying to go it alone.  
 
In my weakness, Lord, I cry out to you.

Not a voice that is heard, but a silent cry that wells up in bitterness, a bitterness in knowing that I have not done enough, have not tried hard enough to let go of this world I've vowed to let go of, to embrace Him who is asleep in the stern of my life, watching over me, and I almost ignore Him.  
  Why are you fearful, O ye of little faith? 
I'm fearful because I've not given everything over to Him.  I'm fearful that I'm fooling myself, in my so-called humbleness I'm actually just, smug.  I am still tossed constantly, as soon as the next squall comes up.  Will it take a million years for me to figure this out?  Probably.  As long as a part of me thinks above the slug-like existence that I know I am, I will not be at rest.  Always filled with uneasiness, I advance through the day.  Again, it is a realization that I must meet head-on, head-on, in prayer. 

O Lord,
help me to let go
of my firm grip
on this world,
and help me
to wrench the hands
from my soul,
that slow my journey
to You.

January

I haven't written much lately, for no reason other than I've nothing to say that basically hasn't been said.  There are so many bloggers, posters etc., out there, people who say things much better than I can that I just feel  posting for posting's sake is not for me.  That's not to say I don't keep up with my favorite sites; I do, and love what you all say, everyday.  If it weren't for the dyed in the wool, hard-core faithful, holding our Church together by example and prayer I can only imagine where we'd be.  The Traditions of the Church and it's teachings are under fire constantly, with the sole intent of bringing down our Mother Church.  Outside of our immediate family I don't know what we can do, really, other than to lead by example and keep the traditions alive.

You are the light of the world.

A city seated on a mountain cannot be hid.

Neither do men light a candle and put it

under a bushel but upon a candlestick,

that it may shine to all

that are in the house.  (Matthew 5)

That's from today's Gospel reading from the Traditional Latin Mass.  I can only get there on Saturday mornings and Sunday at 12:00 noon and that's not enough, I know, but that's all the Masses I can make.  Someday, if it's in His plan, I'll be able to go on the days when the TLM is available.  Right now I'm where He wants me, which is still working for my bread.  But even though He has left me there I will not be sad, will not put on the long face.  I'm there to do His will, which is to love.  To love.  So hard!  My fellow man, my co-workers!  Yeow!  But I do try, every day, although I fail at times quite miserably.  But it's funny; by all my failures the Cross becomes much clearer, the path to and from the Cross at times almost materializes before my eyes.  I call it the slow-down, the small gift of grace from God when He lets you see or feel the result of your action as He wants you to, not as you or the world sees it.  For me it's never anything major, just a change in thought, it seems, just a new realization.  I don't know, I get lost in words, sometimes, lost where there are no words to say.  Move on, k, move on from this and let Him work.

  Maybe, to sum up, it's for me, a matter of Him drawing and me reaching.  Sounds simple, uh?  Heck no! For the Holy Spirit, perhaps, but for me, no.  I reach now from a place so different than before.  We've peeled away the outer skin, stripping away the excess.  No more cable t.v.  A big one, that.  Not just not watching the television, but turning the cable off completely.  We are surviving, and quite well, thank you.  No newspaper delivery.  All these things, for us, just became obstructions to God.  We (H and myself) needed more silence in our lives, and less distractions and all has gone well.  We are also back in formation again, pursuing the call of the Third Order Franciscans.  St. Francis' Rule of 1221 for the Third Order is just too sweet to not taste.  God is so very, very good.  He levels the road ahead for you, just so you can carry the Cross further for His Son.  Blessed Virgin Mary and all the Saints, stay with me on the road, prop me up as I try to prop up, in my own sloppy way, my brothers and sisters here on earth. 

Waiting...

The clock is ticking, and that's about it.  H is asleep on the couch, our son is home, asleep in his room upstairs.  Our daughter is on her way, will get in about midnight.  The house is in the low hum of  night, waiting, seemingly, as I am for my daughter, tonight, and Him tomorrow night.  We have been waiting our whole lives for him, but more fervently this past month.  In my dreams, at Advent beginning, all the books I would read and the prayerful times spent were all laid out and lined up before me, dreams but not reality.  One book, not finished.  Advent fast, semi-falling apart right here at the end of the Silent Wait.  I will re-group, here tonight, in the quietness as I wait for Celena.  10:45.  This is the time for Night Prayer, and I will answer its call.  And then perhaps a Rosary as I sit in the rocker and wait in silence for her and for Him. 

Octave Day of the Immaculate Conception

(taken from The Saint Andrew Daily Missal, circa 1951)

  The date of Mary's Nativity on September 8th caused her Conception to be celebrated during Advent, the season when the Church awaits "the Emmanuel whom a virgin shall conceive" (Communion of the Wednesday in Advent Ember Week).
  Devotion to the Mother of God holds an important place in the liturgy of Advent.  One may say that the period comprising Advent, Christmas and Epiphany constitutes the real season or month of Mary.
  The Church does not yet possess Jesus, but she already has His Mother, "the beginning of Christ" as Bossuet calls her.  This period represents the first phase of the existence of the Saviour on earth.  The divine Infant rests gently in Mary, a living tabernacle which the pious sculptors of the middle ages wished to honour when they made a statue of the Virgin as a tabernacle where the Eucharist would be preserved. -During this season of Advent let us fix our eyes on the Virgin who is to give us Christ.

Darkness

Lord, I thank you for the gift of the darkness, for helping me to appreciate the gift of Your Light.


             (219 hours without power)

Adoration

...and you are right there, behind the small, round glass.  You.  Jesus Christ/God.  At times I'm able to barely wrap my mind around the reality of it and then...it slips away.  It's like taking two steps backward. 
  He is there and I'm here.  Two pews and an open area separate us. But it may as well be 2000 plus years. When it comes to the Blessed Sacrament I'm at a loss for words or feelings.  Maybe because it's so personal, just Jesus and me, and maybe one or two others, lost in their own journey.  My journey, well, I don't know.  I'm continually amazed and grateful for the graces that I've received.  Once one realizes that nothing comes to us but from God, that He is behind all else that is, that one can rejoice in even the dark times, for even then His light will shine, when one feels and acknowledges the graces that flow then one can say a step has been taken on that journey.  I have re-consecrated myself three times now to Jesus thru Mary, and each time, in the months thereafter, I've felt something inside of me open up more and more.  Not so much as an opening up as a giving away, a giving away of myself.  Here, have some more.  I don't really know what I'm doing, but just take some more of me.  And He accepts, gladly, with open arms.  God loves a giver.
  Me and Him.  Some voices in the back, now whispering, perhaps new to Adoration.  I am truly blessed to be here, quiet time with Him.  And later tonight 10-11, in a small Adoration Chapel, filling in for a woman who's travelled half-way around the world to visit her daughter, a nun, in a part of Africa that is not a good place.  She'll be gone for three months, and we've taken over her time slot.  It will be good to be there, as it is good to be here.  Him, drawing me close. 
(written Thursday, the 22nd of September.)

His Time

  Some much needed time off from work, and the rain falls.  No matter.  Everything that needed to be done has been, the picking up and putting away, the raking and the mowing.  Whatever is left is all for me, for my nothingness of importance.  You know, those annoying thoughts that gnaw at you, the ones you never find the time to address.  I'm learning, or trying to learn, to give those thoughts up to Him, to take them away from my time and let Him deal with them in His time.  Very hard to do, but I'm getting better at it.  It all begins with having God front and foremost at all times.  Front and foremost.  Again, not so simple.  The last thing satan would want is for any of us to have Him at the center of our thoughts constantly.  Harder to make inroads there.  But inroads he makes, and when he can't get in he throws up obstacle after obstacle, one barricade after another.  The world around us is where that lion prowls, and he is having his way, for now.  Let him be.  The signs point closer to our end, to the beginning of His coming, and I feel whoever makes it through these dark times will come out the stronger.  Maybe we'll see it and maybe not.  But to play and dally in this smoke-filled world is not for me.  One cannot hide a light under a bushel basket.  We must bring Him forth now. 
  Summer becomes Fall.  No hurrahs, it just is. We plan our garden in early spring, envision the rows, green with bounty.  Our garden of life, our lives, planned and planted out in the early spring of our youth, of our lives.  Usually before we even know of His time, of how it encompasses all, we think we are in charge, we are the gardener.  We are not.

For though the fig tree blossom not

nor fruit be on the vines,

though the yield of the olive fail

and the terraces produce no nourishment,

Though the flocks disappear from the fold

and there be no herd in the stalls,

yet will I exult in my saving God.

Habakkuk  17-18

  The quietness of a grey, wet afternoon surrounds me and I think, This life I could embrace, this beginning of a contemplative life, yearning for nothing but constant prayer, to soar with the angels as I hear God's voice.  But no, that is not for me.  I'm here, in late afternoon merely quietly praying, recharging my batteries for what is to come.  God has called me to be out in the world, to put my best unworthy self forward for all to see, to see the glory of Him shining in me.  I must pray through distraction, turn my cheek and give them my beard to pull and then explain to them why I did that; to love God, family and country with my whole heart, with my whole mind and with my whole soul.  Look, always in three's.  Bless the Holy Trinity.     

                                        

 

The Erratic Man

  My brothers, count it pure joy when you are involved in every sort of trial.  Realize that when your faith is tested this make for endurance.  Let endurance come to its perfection so that you may be fully mature and lacking in nothing.
  If any of you is without wisdom, let him ask for it from the God who gives generously and ungrudgingly to all, and it will be given him.  Yet he must ask in faith, never doubting, for the doubter is like the surf tossed and driven by the wind.  A man of this sort, devious and erratic in all that he does, must not expect to receive anything from the Lord.    Evening Prayer, Reading, James 1:2-8


After going through a day doing jobs I don't like and feeling at times just plain cooked,  H and I finish our day with Evening Prayer, and this reading pierces me like a two-edged sword.  How could I have travelled the road all day in misery when the spirit of Francis is leading me down this road?  The first sentence says it all;  Count it pure joy when you are involved in every sort of trial.  For me, how completely Franciscan!  I've come to realize that our faith is tested not just in the areas of faith but in all areas, all things.  Trials of any sort test one's faith, but to throw all of God's wisdom and teaching away as soon as an issue arises is just like the case of the doubter, who, like the surf is tossed and driven by the wind.  I didn't expect to see myself there, but there I was.  Am I devious?  I don't know.  Erratic, yes.  And today, driven by the wind.  I forgot all about Francis, all about Our Lord.  I've come to the realization that I've only scratched the surface of myself, of my faith.  I see now that many strong people have held me in strong hands for way too long.  


I call upon you, O God,
in my distress.

The porch on Easter Morning

   He is risen.
These words ring out to me in the form of the new life that is spring, the calling of birds to one another, the new awakening after a long sleep, as us who have slept so long, to finally feel the warmth of the Risen Lord once again. 
Here, thick fog covers the land and only daffodils and tulips break the grey barrenness of late April.  But in my heart, soul and mind the Son is burning again, for He has Risen.

Lent

  Hello, everyone.  All's quiet on Road Beyond 50.  I've sat down a few times to post but to get from my heart to the keyboard just seems fruitless.  "I will provide you with the words..."  well, He hasn't yet and that's OK.  It is Lent and maybe this has become part of my fast, my loss of words on my journey home to the Risen One.  I'm still reading your posts, though, and they all fill me with wonder and hope.

  On Saturday mornings we go to the 7:00am Latin Mass.  During the week I'm not able to get to Mass unless one is offered at night, which right now my parish is doing, 7:00pm Tuesdays and Thursdays during Lent.  I've only been to one, after our shortened Knight of Columbus meeting.  Right now, in this time of my life, if I have the choice, I do not attend a Norvus Ordo Mass.  Believe me, not attending Mass is not easy for me, as it is not easy for any of you.  But this night, that is not what I'm writing about.  Whatever Mass we attend is our own business.  In the end it is between us and God, and only he knows where we've been on our journey to Him.  This morning, before Mass, during my Rosary, He made His presence very known to me, really for the first time during my Rosary.  I would have to describe my spiritual life as quiet; mostly me speaking to Him, or to His Son, or to our Blessed Mother.  More to Her, lately, as we finish our consecration. Me speaking, and they listening.  But really, it is , the desert.  And that's ok, I understand that, I really do.  He gives me many insights, answers to questions I don't even ask.  And yes, every once in awhile He does make His presence known in a big way, but very rarely.  This morning, He came.  As I began my Rosary in the early morning darkness of the Church it was as if He were next to me in the pew, saying the Rosary with me.  St. Martha's has a Crucifixion scene set up near the communion rail, off to one side.  Beautiful statues in bright colors, depicting the death of Our Lord.  The soldiers, Mary Magdalen, weeping on the ground, Blessed Mary, supported by John, his head covered by his hooded cloak.  Jesus, between the two thieves, His eyes aimed to heaven.  But what struck me, what burned into my mind was the thoughts that had to be going through the minds of the people there that loved Jesus dearly, to see Him hanging from the cross after all that had happened to him since His arrest.  The anguish, the confusion, the sorrow in their hearts.  I knew as I said each Hail Mary that Jesus Himself, although scourged, beaten, crowned with thorns and hanging from a tree, He knew what was happening.  It was all Him and the Father by then.  But the pain felt by the one's who loved Him I felt, really, for the first time.  The Father, for whatever reason, turned my stony heart to a loving heart.  For the first time in my life I truly and honestly loved Our Lord Jesus Christ.  How would you feel if that was your good friend hanging on that cross?  Somebody you loved beyond all telling?  And this happened to him?  In an instant the door was opened just a crack, and He gave me a peek, and a peek was all I could handle.  It was if a stopper had been pulled out.  So many unspoken thoughts made sense.  Unspoken and unwritable here.  And then, not one revelation but another, as I knelt, beads in hand.  A scene of our elderly, perhaps of some I know, but it didn't matter.  The intense loneliness of some of those men and women, who had lived good productive lives, then retired.  Perhaps they lost a spouse, and their children cooked for them then.  Still love and family there.  But later, as they get older, probably a nursing home.  No more home cooked meals by a daughter or daughter in law.  Unknown food cooked by unknown hands. That is were my vision started and ended, in a flash. Why I was given that, I don't know.  Why did He show this to me now?  I will pray about these two startling gifts that He gave me today, graces poured out by the Blessed Virgin Mary.  I will pray about that unbelievably strong yearning of love that I felt this morning, and why do I have such a stony heart.  I will pray to God to allow our Mother to tear me down to nothing, to the nothing that I really am, to strip me of every vicious excess.  I will let the vision of the elderly linger with me, for that is what it should do, because for some reason, unknown to me, the two scenes He pointed out to me this morning, in the silence of His church, mean something more than what I can understand now.  He may do something for nothing, but I don't think  He ever does anything without a reason.

 Oh Lord, hear my cry
deep in this desert. 
You, who in so many words, said,
"Come, follow me," stretch out Your hand
to us who yearn for light.

Wash me first

The last few weeks have been the Season of Septuagesima, which is the three Sundays leading up to Ash Wednesday.  This is used in the Traditional Latin Mass.  We haven't been going steady to the Latin Mass for even a year yet, so we are still learning all the differences that exist between the L.M. and the Norvus Ordo.  These three Sundays are used to prepare for the Lenten season.  A good idea, I think.  For me, the season of Lent was a lot more cut and dried; one gave up something for forty days, and then began again after.  The whole event was forgotten about after Easter.  That was before God called...
Now, things have changed, and for me, Lent has become much more serious, as well it should be.  It seems like my life for the last five years has been one type of fast or another, or a time of penance for a decision that must be made. Ash Wednesday is nearly here and I'm no closer to my Lenten observance than I was three weeks ago.....
  Well, Ash Wednesday has come and gone, and God, in His mercy, has shown us a path, a way to begin our journey through Lent.  Lately it always seems to do with food and H and I are brought even closer together by sharing in this Lenten discipline, as we do all things.  Coffee one year, (a rough one, that), desserts another, (not so bad, but bad enough), but in hindsight these abstinence's were only small things, stuff even.  H and I have been looking into the Third Order Franciscans, which is very different from our Secular Franciscans.  A bit more stricter.  More devoted to the Latin Mass.  This way of living, Franciscan-wise, seems to fit our spirituality and gives us a deeper sense of peace and purpose than the Rule of the modern day Seculars.  But we are only exploring these options.  We are praying about it.  But we have adopted some of the fasts and abstinence rules that they use for our Lenten fast.  These include no breakfast, Monday thru Saturday.  No meat Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday, and of course, Friday, but milk and dairy is allowed.  On top of our Fasting on bread and water on Wed. and Fri. it makes for an interesting week.  I'd never known how much food is such a intrusive part of my life.  I can tend toward gluttony at times if I don't watch out.  How heavy-feeling I can become when I eat three decent meals a day.  With the discipline of Lent that has all changed.  With no breakfast I go from 5:30 in the evening until 12:30 the next day, which is lunch without eating.  A long time for me to go with only a couple of cups of coffee in between.  But something does happen during that long stretch, especially in the morning.  Is it me;  no, I am nothing, I know that.  I feel it is the Holy Spirit, moving in where the tendencies toward my over-indulging were.  We are called to God for a reason and He gives us the means to get there, we just have to make use of those ways.  Fasting is one way.  Instead of being unknowingly dependent of our food, we become more dependent on God.  It's like our bodies, no our souls know that,  and in turn we search and yearn for Him.  The turning inward, the turning inward with love.  The Ancient Fathers in the Old Testament knew the power of fasting.  Fasting and Prayer.  
  The clong of the heavy wind chime fills the silence of night.  I think of what I just wrote, and how it really doesn't tell the whole story, not even close.  How can I explain the quietness that fills me up even in the middle of a crazy workday?  How even now, in the semi-silence of the night, how His presence is here, closer than ever.  How to explain the unexplainable?  How to listen and respond, how to write about that.  I cannot.  And so begins the journey through the desert, following Our Lord Jesus.  A good way to live one's life, in the desert, with Our Lord.

Oh Lord Jesus, 

you but command and I come.

I will help carry your cross

but wash me first,

cleanse me in the 

discipline of Lent

then lead me down the path

less known.