Nothing Catholic Hermit shovels mulch. Three huge mounds arrived on a trailer the other evening. Agnus Dei is permeated with a hog farm odor, as the mulch was just freshly ground.Yes, truly. Nothing took up shovel and commenced the task of loading wheelbarrow-full, one after the other, sweating like a hog that would exalt in such moist hardwood splinters and the distinctive stink.
In fact, as nothing worked in the highest heat of the season thus far, the stink soaking into hands, clothing and the very air all about, reminded nothing of some types of devil stench.
My, the back and neck anguish all the more! It is hard work but good work, spreading the ground-down remains of the behemoth sideways cross, recently felled. It is best with this one to spread the splinters. Amend the soil and keep moisture in the ground around trees and perennials. Deeper conversion; growth.
All the while, nothing prays and praises the Lord for His mercy and goodness! Just to be able to perform manual labor, no matter how smelly and arduous to the chronically pained body--what a joy! And to do it with the freedom from talk of people, even within the mind: a grace!
One call came. A problem over an employment issue. Nothing listened, gave supportive advice which requires the caller to confront an unjust situation. Then nothing said it would be in prayer over this, and to let it know how it turns out--if the caller desires to update. Nothing was not closing off due to talk of people, but in a way, thankfully, the tree planter wanted to know where the Split Rock and Camasyparis Hiba were to be placed.
Nothing might have begun to be too adamant in the conversation, however, or to repeat the suggestions and the support for the caller to proceed. Later, the caller and nothing discussed the successful outcome. And, although three persons involved in the employment issue were mentioned, they were not the focus. The three persons were by-words, actors in the situation, and thus took the role of back-up singers to the front-and-center decision to be made.
There is progress. The three mounds of hog-stinky mulch are down to a short two. Nothing has an hour or so this morning in which to dig in and cart, spread the remains of the behemoth sideways cross, for good measure. Then off to visit a long-time friend from another area of the country, who is visiting aging parents. Haven't seen this friend in years. Nothing will mulch its mind ahead of time, preparing the soil of its soul, for people-less conversation.
My offenses, truly I know them...what is evil in Your sight I have done...in the secret of my heart teach me wisdom. O purify me, then I shall be clean...and my tongue shall ring out Your goodness. O Lord, open my lips and my mouth shall declare Your praise.
2 comments:
Hi. I'm David.
I'm sorry I'm not commenting on your blog entry.
Could you please tell me how somebody could privately profess as a consecrated hermit and what that all means/entails?
Thank you. :)
Dear David,
No need to apologize for not commenting on the blog! It verges on the privately inane at times, as I am not particularly pedantic.
So, I will tell you how somebody can privately profess as a consecrated hermit, referring you to the Catechism of the Catholic Church as well as giving the direction I've received from a Vicar General/Chancellor of a diocese, two canon lawyers, and a priest of 61 years who is himself a hermit. There are also various lives of hermits and those about hermits, that no doubt will play a role in the answer.
What does it all mean/entail? Well, I'll try to give that essence, also. However, understand that I am more about the actual experience, the climb, and not into the pedantic!
I'll attempt to answer your questions in a blog, although I've probaby already answered in bits and pieces over the last year, sort of like Hansel and Gretel dropping bread crumbs as a means to find their way home. I'm finding my way, but not from the bread crumbs.
I notice you asked the question on another blog, and apologize for the delay due to having a rather rare visit with a friend not seen in many years, traveling from a distance. A hermit is to drop what it was doing (the shovel, in this case) to be hospitable to the usually rare guest.
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