The grandson did FaceTime this morning. This nothing consecrated Catholic hermit had been up for a couple hours, hooking up sprinkler and soaker hose, drinking the morning glass of Green Glory (greens and fruit, blended), and waiting for meds to tame the outrageous physical pain. Today a spinal headache was brewing.
The grandson has had his ups and downs with attitude for awhile--most days wonderful but for whatever reasons on other days can wake up with quite a nasty mood in motion. He's a highly gifted child which is not all that others may think. Gifted children can pose challenges for the best of parents. He's an adult mind and intellect stuffed into a nine-year-old boy's body, replete with that age's emotions and energy.
Anyway, he was showing me all the latest around their home, recently moved into and enjoying. He demonstrated how he has taught the darling Bull Terrier (Target advertising mascot type) to ride on the longboard (which belongs to the boy's mother, in fact). He went through some new magic tricks. My, he's fast-fingered and good at sleight-of-hand We had a little ukulele recital. Then he showed something he'd made the other day.
It was a large, round, head-size smiley face, bright yellow, taped and stapled onto a wooden ruler.
What a great idea! He said he saw it on Pinterest (online site people can join that has more creative ideas than a person could attempt in several lifetimes). The grandson then made a new version, in front of the camera so I could watch. This smiley face was so gleeful that there were tears of laughter and joy taped onto the huge, yellow, paper circle.
I commented that I could use one of those, for sure!
Yes, the liver area of the lower right back has been giving me the dickens. My thoughts have not at all been God's Thoughts nor His Mind, other than with some counsel given to a young woman who called last evening with some concerns. (This morning I realized how thankful to have the over half a doctorate in clinical psychology, including courses in sexual counseling and root issues). That along with God's Mind helping to clarify for the young woman that what she was somewhat hesitant at first to discuss, of a sexual issue, is not a sin. No, she does not have to be concerned in that regard.
So at least I know due to the essence of the words spoken, the counsel given, that God's Mind had come to the rescue in that conversation. I later discerned his continuing some thoughts in re-emphasizing and also reassuring me that I'd delivered the thoughts accordingly.
But the other thoughts that are mine, all mine, need to be replaced with His Thoughts, His Mind.
I am struggling with being here, with all in the temporal aspects of any progress in finishing the hermitage, to make it more livable, to even get the kitchen re-installed, or any help at all with anything--not happening. The hopes of selling and departing to are rather dashed. The Lord seems to be focusing in on this Nine S: Stability.
So this hermit must settle in and accept the status quo. Mostly the manual labor is going toward weeding and watering. At this stage of my thoughts struggling some against His Will, I admit to not being at all enthusiastic. My praises are enforced efforts.
The other night, from a distance, I could hear some people laughing--dining outside, I think. Their laughter was in stark contrast to my pulled down visage, all the more hanging from my leaning over, weeding. So I did a few forced laughs--what I call "Laugh Therapy." I did not even bother to count out ten laughs; maybe there were five or six stiff guffaws. At least that bit of silliness got me smiling at the weeds! Kinda fun, even.
I'm considering giving a hermit monk nearby, a call. While from a different sphere of Catholicism, perhaps a jump-start and meeting of minds, hermit-to-hermit, could do some good. He had kindly retrieved me when needing a lift back from the ER a couple weeks ago, as there were no others to call upon with any positive results.
We'd talked some about the news I'd had then. Now the news seems to be altered, and oddly (but mystics would understand in a flash) has made me kind of frowny-faced. More so, it seems the Lord is hindering all manner of help which is needed if I am to get many tasks done here, requiring a second set of hands and some added lifting strength.
I wrote to my spiritual father (director) yesterday, that without anyone to assist in some of the critical tasks remaining, and with indeterminate glitches and delays on the kitchen, I won't be able to "get the damn house done" and am struggling to get to the spiritual writing. Perhaps this little glimpse into how much is needed of His Mind replacing my mind, counts as a consecrated Catholic hermit's spiritual writing?
Back to the hermit monk, perhaps if Fr. P. could bolster in praying for the specific requests this hermit has, of which the main one is the crucial plea that God replace my mind and thoughts and ideas, with His Mind--full time, totally. And maybe even my fellow hermit would at least be one to understand the oddity of thinking the Lord was readying to pluck me out of the temporal--other than He certainly blocked all means of wrapping up my temporal affairs, as is said.
In the meantime, while all my paper supplies (and nearly all other household and clothing, pans, dry goods) are packed away and have been for over three years, and I don't have any yellow paper available, I am going to mentally consider that I have a bright smiley face stapled onto a wood ruler, and I am wearing it today.
Maybe that creative craft project that the grandson introduced this morning from miles away, over the internet's FaceTime visual capacity, is God's idea, indeed.
God Bless His Real Presence in us. Little children, let us love one another as Jesus loves us.
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