Here it is, Trinity Sunday, and thankfully this old hermit's body is fatigued from pain and recent manual labor. Being slowed down is a blessing on the Lord's Day in which one is to "rest".
Yes, there are different aspects of what it means to "rest". I appreciate the facet of resting in the Lord's love, remaining in His Love. It is akin to being in peace within His Sacred Heart, or to rest in the adoration and praise of God.
Currently, I must keep working around Te Deum hermitage. When the pain sieges hit, such as a week ago was in the midst of one, it is the Lord's day of rest, without options. In fact, on a bed of extreme suffering, one is resting with the Christ on His Cross. (For the sake of His Sorrowful Passion, have mercy on us and on the whole world. These lines from the Divine Mercy litany come to mind.)
First thing this morning I had to dispatch a raccoon. The reality made me ponder all the more the life of hermits of yore, and how I would love it if my prayers were answered that the raccoons would remain off property and not be menacing! I assume some hermits had to deal with wild life challenges--those who were not gifted with being able to tame the animals or cause them to obey commands with but a word or two.
Then I had to set about setting up more soaker hoses. We've not had rain in quite awhile, and all is becoming dry at a time in which spring growth causes plants and trees to thirst. Plus, striving to get the property in top condition will help as I must soon finish and sell.
And that will occur whether or not I finish, for the funds will run out before long. Or, I will be plucked from this earth or not allowed to finish by some bodily mishap. These aspects of our being a "puff of smoke" (refer to James 5 and a previous post on the topic) are ever part of our human existences.
The couple from the parish arrived with His Real Presence, and we mentioned Trinity Sunday. I recalled a recipe handed down by my grandmother, of a cake called Whitsunday Cake. The woman (of the couple) asked what kind of cake would that be? I said, "White!" We laughed. I've not had the leisure or functioning kitchen since I've been in this hermitage, to even consider making the cake in order to help celebrate Trinity Sunday. My grandmother was Protestant; I think they referred to Trinity Sunday as White Sunday, perhaps? WhitSunday? Or is this from the Anglicans?
Regardless, I'm trying to appreciate the liturgical day and the Three-in-One of the Most Holy Trinity! Yet amidst mending some soaker hoses, weeding, and next hoping to have the physical energy to go to the upstairs bathroom to finish two tile pieces, once I've figured if their placement is the best option, and rehang the vanity light fixture, I also might get the air compressor hose and trim nail gun set to install some wood trim in that bathroom.
With apologies to the Lord for such manual labor, of course He knows my predicament here as much as He knows my days of suffering and inability to be mobile, then, are times of resting in His Love even if as on a cross, I would prefer to not suffer so.
Perhaps soon, this puff of smoke nothing consecrated Catholic hermit will have the manual labor back to a point of some moderation, and there will be a delightful adjusting of the day's ebb and flow to include far more spiritual reading. Yet, it is amazing what with some focus, a soul can do with reading the daily Mass Scriptures upon early waking, and to ponder them off and on all day while at the manual labor--especially gardening tasks or other more meditative type physical work in which the mind is not required to focus on being careful with power tools or measurements or the how-to of the efforts.
I sense the Lord quite close, as well as beloved ancestors, and the angels and saints as I continue on, working at beautifying and completing a place on this earth in which someone will hopefully enjoy and not be bothered with the manual labor that I've been engaged with for five years--in between pain sieges, that is, and extended illnesses each winter.
I marvel at the interactions of the Holy Trinity. In my simple way, I will honor the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit today by trying to do tasks in three's and in one's. I will continue to praise the Trinity in whatever ways come to me to do so. Perhaps silly--but a bit ago I enjoyed a "white" coconut frozen milk bar...not that I deserve such a treat.
No, I do not think in terms of which I had mentioned a post or two past, of a friend who repeats often enough that some person or other "deserves" this or that. I simply think I do not deserve anything in this life, especially when I consider my sins as well as my short comings. And even more so, I deserve nothing when I consider the Holy Trinity and the Three Persons, and all that I owe Three-in-One simply for my existence, forgiveness, love They bestow, as well as salvation.
Now, to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, I must rise from the sleeping bag on the floor in this room I dedicated as a prayer for an elderly couple who are going through difficult times of the man's decline. I will repair another soaker hose that had a leak, turn on the flow of water, and ascend the stairs to the bathroom tiling task remaining.
God bless His Real Presence in us! And, Lord, please have mercy on my soul on this Whitsunday in which once more, ora et labora graces this lovely day.
Addendum: As the marvels of the Trinity unfold, in my little temporal carpentry and tile tasks, there have been three trim boards to custom cut and fit, three tile pieces to custom cut and fit, and a seemingly infinite number of trips back and forth to the pole barn to the table saw! As I worked and prayed, and now as I take a needed rest, I hear a power trimmer in one near-distant direction and a lawn mower in another. Earlier were the sounds of a hammer down the road a ways. I'm in union with the lay workers who are trying to catch up over this three-day Memorial weekend. It is unlikely they are pondering the Trinity nor are aware it is Trinity Sunday; but all the same, we are all at work with thoughts in our minds, surely, or sounds of music, and definitely the "music" of our tools. One thing certain with this Catholic hermit, should I live to experience another Trinity Sunday, it will not be as this one, even this year Jesus knows full well the temporal predicament I am in with needing to keep making hermitage-completion progress. As God and as a carpenter Man, He knows all aspects far better than I; and I wonder if He has been smiling today with my attempts to praise the Trinity with three-and-one tasks?
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