I continue to rejoice and praise God for the good souls, for the righteous, for the kind people we encounter each day either in physical form in the real world or in thoughts and memories of the lovely. Then I weep and pray for the bad souls, the ones who do not even think about the reality that they have a precious soul, that it is this soul God implanted into a fertilized egg in their mother's womb, co-created by a man's sperm in cooperation with God's power and mystical might.
So many people exist without thinking about the reality of souls. They do not consider that this world is but a proving ground, a place of growth for our souls. And these souls of ours are all we will have when we die to our bodies and to this world and life; these our souls will be what we will be for all eternity.
It is imperative that those of us who do know the value of and existence of souls must do all we can to pray for and help others keep from doing wrongs that harm their souls forever. And, we must do all we can to keep our own souls vibrant and healthy, holy, and capable of goodness for eternity.
Other than these thoughts, I have fought to endure with tremendous physical pain. Each added temporal battle--which are truly unnecessary if not for some bad mistakes people have chosen which cause extra suffering and trials to be overcome on top of physical pain--seems a weight that will crush me. Yet, I pray and persevere and remember that it is God Who fights the battles for me.
I did call the parish office Saturday morning, weighted down with suffering and needing some encouragement, realizing that this hermitage needs blessing and any assistance of mystical power that the Church can offer. Alas, it is not a positive result as there is still no return call, four days later. The conclusion I sense is that the Lord is reminding me that He alone will be my guide, my support, my encouragement, my healer and provider.
At least with the horrific bodily pain I am trying to live with and through, my mind reminds me it is not always this painful, and that even within hours, the barometric pressure shifts that have been running rampant lately, daily and nightly, will pass. Then the pain will ease enough for me to rise from the mattress. And if not, there is medication to help sedate the physical body, although that means there is no progress.
Sometimes the mind considers trying to drive out, drive far enough away and remain away for the fall and winter months, avoid the barometric pressure shifts and not have my body suffer to excruciating levels. That may be what must occur, for the mind and emotions can only handle so much suffering, or so it seems. I know God can handle all suffering, and it is in this faith that I must exist for now, today, in this present moment. I pray to be able to rise even if to move about in here, to keep the body limbered. We shall see.
But for sure, the Lord hears my cries and knows that I turn to Him in faith, and that I understand that no return call from a priest and not even a return call from a message left with a priest of another rite in the Eastern Church, simply means the Lord desires me one-on-one, with Him alone: solus Deus. That, in fact, is rather special.
The following is poignant truth, is it not, and beautifully presented?
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