Catholic Hermit: Pope Benedict XVI, Suffering, Cross

Had lovely surprise on Thanksgiving, with family member, spouse, newly-teen son visiting.  Brought a delicious turkey meal from restaurant where they had dined.  Stayed to visit for awhile, and I so enjoyed and appreciated every minute. 

I had to laugh later, thinking of pne who is struggling some to overcome how difficult her very elderly mother--irritable, impatient, with various trigger-point personality idiosyncrasies all the more present in suffering a slow decline, certainly expected in someone over 96.

The problem is, temperament plays a part no matter how old.  If quite old, the unknowns are still unknowns, and the frustrations still frustrations; if one is unwell, then all else the more, increasingly so.  

I've been told not to call the aunt.  She sometimes makes these pronouncements.  I had sent a notecard.  I understand how exhausted she feels; she says does not have energy to answer phone or write her own checks or put ornaments on her tree.  Yet she is not agreeable to letting her daughter help.  I can comprehend; and I again remind the one that her mother is more of the personality tendency we recall of a couple of her siblings, more high strung.

But the one had said when going to visit her mother in the nursing home, that she really does not have much to talk about; her mother has her ailments to go over, despite being what anyone would and could expect at that age.  And then there is the desire to try to do something about the dizziness, when really, there is little to be done.  The doctor explained as well as he could, this can happen when nearly 100.  

So I mentioned that I feel empathy for my family, as it must have seemed to them they were, also, visiting me in my "nursing home", and trying to figure out conversation, after the usual issues of my back pain, nausea, vertigo, lack of motivation due to simply feeling so ill (such as the case again today).  Nausea debilitates. 

I mentioned to the one that what she struggles with regarding her mother helps remind me, although much younger and do strive to not go on about my pain, that I am already to my family the same effect of difficulty she feels in visiting her mother.

So we laughed about that--how I'm basically in the same boat, if not worse, than her mother.  I reminded the cousin we must just keep praying for her mother, and pray that we do not live that many years, or if so, pneumonia might come along and be our friend.  

(It is said of older people who have cancer, that "pneumonia can be their friend," meaning it is better to be able to die of pneumonia, quickly, than to keep on with the usual slow-cancer progression in people advanced in years.  The body cells, including the cancer cells, reproduce more slowly in older people than in young, depending on type of cancer, of course.)

I know how irksome when I cannot make a decision. That is a trigger for my family, of how I am--one of many my irksome qualities.  They could only understand if they were in my body, such as recently, especially with the pain and this wretched nausea--demoralizing my thoughts and threatening stamina to keep going.

My mind simply cannot currently make a simple decision on color or type of gifts I had in mind for the grandchildren, as I don't even really know if the grandchildren would like these items.  And they cost quite a bit--but not so much to those who have been able to work in careers, earn, save, and spend, accustomed to the world's various item costs and rising prices. 

For whatever reason, the pain and nausea have me "stuck," uncertain, insecure, feeling as if I cannot begin to compete with normal others, in any realistic way of being functional and productive and connected.  It is distressing in other ways, worse than physical pain at times, of no texts or calls returned from a family member, and not really knowing why not.  Perhaps, as with my cousin per her mother, the thought of me irritates, upsets, so no response.  Or not; perhaps--and this concerns me more--something not well or right in their lives of work, children, spouse.

Between the nausea and the pain, and feeling irrelevant and seem to others and myself as if not trying hard enough to improve or be productive, discouragement sets in regarding what might at least be a little worthwhile in writing blog posts.  Of course, I know I must not wilt or droop to temptation of discouragement.  Maybe tomorrow I will not have the nausea or pain level, and I will be able to simply make gift decisions, and go for a walk.  

And now, despite all the inconsequential rambling above, for what is of worth to read, I will share the following commentary written by Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI.  It is about suffering and the cross--and the crosses we are given.  This theme connects, I pray, with my above ramblings of thoughts and marginal efforts in coping with on-going pain, the painful loss or seeming futility it can cause in relationships. This is a reminder to not be discouraged--that there is value in suffering--and that God indeed does allow us certain crosses for certain of His reasons.

So from a General Audience, here is what Pope Benedict said regarding St. Andrew following Christ until death.

"...A later tradition...tells of Andrew's death at Patras, where he too suffered the torture of crucifixion.  At that supreme moment, however, like his brother Peter, he asked to be nailed to a cross different from the Cross of Jesus.  In his case, it was a diagonal or X-shaped cross, which has thus come to be known as 'St. Andrew's cross.'

"This is what the Apostle is claimed to have said on that occasion, according to an ancient traditions...:  'Hail, O Cross, inaugurated by the Body of Christ and adorned with his limbs as though they were precious pearls.  Before the Lord mounted you, you inspired an earthly fear.  Now, instead, endowed with heavenly love, you are accepted as a gift.  Believers know of the great joy that you possess, and of the multitude of gifts you have prepared.  I come to you, therefore, confident and joyful, so that you too may receive me exultant as a disciple of the One who was hung upon you.... O blessed Cross, clothed in the majesty and beauty of the Lord's limbs!... Take me, carry me far from men, and restore me to my Teacher, so that through you, the one who redeemed me by you, may receive me.  Hail, O Cross; yes, hail indeed!'

I realize that many people do not comprehend suffering to the point that I describe or of that which I complain so often.  Daily I must pray and spiritually work myself through this particular phase; I no longer have young children or even the motivation of striving to endure for them, or to strive as an example for them or others.  I yet must leave a witness, a victorious legacy of how to suffer even if not heroically or even well at all, but to suffer through to a natural end.

Last night I was certain that today I would be able to make myself go for a walk, at least.  But I was not thinking I'd have nausea yet again, nor to this degree, nor to the steepness of the lumbar pain when up with the brace on, doing tiddly tasks, or that I'd let the non-responsiveness of the one family member eat away at my inner reserves.  Rejoice that the other two responded to my simple desire to reach out, am thinking of them, inquire, wish their day well. Keep praying for the well-being of the one who may be busily stressed, ill, some personal trial, or simply not desiring communication.

Yes, this situation of suffering is long, unpredictable in effects.  I must keep praying and striving to whatever otherness feasible, beg God's grace and mercy.

All I can do tonight, now that darkness has descended, mercifully, at daylight's end, is to remain on the icy pad and be in bed.  Yes, it is very difficult to embrace the cross the Lord has presented to me, with its many sharp and painful, quite-large splinters.  I need His help to climb upon this cross, to proclaim, "Hail, O Cross!," and to do so joyfully, and to accept all this and various other painful splinters--this cross as God's gift.

God bless His Real Presence in us!  Let us love God in Himself and all others, no matter all else.

Catholic Hermit: Act of Oblation

As I mentioned in the previous post, this is the Act of Oblation that I noticed when I picked up a notebook, unpacked awhile ago, that had been packed for a several years.  The page with this Act of Oblation caught my eye in the flutter of pages.  I looked through a bit, and this is from a book I have and read sometime after I'd been to a Benedictine monastery and was perusing their library shelves.

Some of you might find the oblation excessive or strange; regardless, such an act is not to be taken lightly, and not without discernment and a willingness to accept whatever the Lord allows and wills for you.  Such offerings (as is the case with my own personally written Vow of Consecration of Suffering that I offered the Lord in 2000) are either accepted by the Lord or not, based on His knowing of our hearts and minds and souls, of what we are capable and what we are not.  But if such an act of vow is accepted, one must be prepared to endure the unfolding and persevere in whatever trials.

This Act of Oblation is taken from the Guide for Victim Souls of the Sacred Heart, compiled by Fr. Kreuter, OSB, (Benziger Bros. 1939) and also from a previous Manual for Victim Souls of the Sacred Heart, Schmidt, Max, ed., 1920.   The oblation was advised per discernment and offering in the presence (and approval) of one's confessor or spiritual director.  As is the case with the lesser grasp and focus of mystical theology in seminaries and among parish priests currently, the offering of suffering in formal sense is not, as one could say, in vogue, in general practice or awareness.

At the time this Act of Oblation and the Guide for Victim Souls of the Sacred Heart was compiled, there was a growing movement of women, developed in Europe, of women whose charism, of sorts, was to unite their sufferings with that of Christ, to be willing to suffer in union with Christ's sufferings, for the salvation of souls and for the Holy Catholic Church.  A priest was their director, and they took the name of Daughters of the Heart of Jesus.

Over passage of time in the 20th century, the changes brought in about in effect of the Second Vatican Council, and a general shift in tone within the church, the movement of those offering their sufferings and making oblations as Victim Souls of the Sacred Heart of Jesus waned.  In a more modern mindset and with the movement more toward corporal works of mercy and lay associations, lay communities, the emphasis veered from and priests even looked down upon the mystical; the offering of oneself as a victim soul of Jesus was less heard of and discouraged by those who did not understand the value of suffering for those called mystically to such an offering.  Granted, it can easily be misunderstood and devalued, even categorized as sadistic, morose, masochistic. 

Thus, such a vow or offering of one's suffering, is not to be taken lightly.  Frankly, the Lord will not ask this of those with psychological aberrations; always, too, the Lord can reject such an offering.  A spiritual director such as a holy priest, bishop, or religious order superior are wisely necessary to help discern if the Lord is calling a soul to be a victim of love and suffering, of His Sacred Heart.  

I share that I received a call from Jesus, discussed and discerned with my spiritual director.  Then followed a verbal offering and then a more formal, written vow, and thus my offerings and renewal of offerings over the 24 years.  My confessors, my late spiritual father, a monastery abbot (now emeritus), a bishop, and a few priests who either received my vow and renewals or with whom I asked permission to include something additional in the offering, have found the offering of myself as a victim soul of Jesus, to be appropriate, acceptable, and even beautiful.  

Yet those who have read much of my various blogs will note the reality of how difficult is the suffering, and how I feel often enough, that I do not suffer well.  The Lord knows; only the Lord knows my heart and my willingness, however.  Suffering through not only physical pain but also temporal trials and persecutions, is not at all easy; the devil seems to all the more attack; the victim soul can feel at times very much abandoned by God and by the Church.  Of course, one is not--but suffice it to emphasize, offering to suffer in union with Christ is a humbling and quite serious offer.

Act of Oblation

"Ecce Venio," Behold me, O good and sweet Jesus!  Divine Lamb, perpetually offered on our altars for the salvation of the world.  I wish to be united to Thee, to suffer with Thee, to be immolated with thee in union with the Daughters of the Heart of Jesus.

"For that end I offer Thee whatever pains, griefs, humiliations, and crosses Thy Divine Providence has placed in my path.  To Thee I offer them according to the intentions for which Thy Sacred Heart offers and immolates Itself.

"May my poor sacrifice bring blessings upon the Church, on the priesthood, on our country, on our brethren and all poor sinners.  Be pleased to accept it through the hands of Mary, our Mediatrix, and in union with the sufferings of Her Immaculate Heart.  Amen."

Now, the above may seem quite simple.  I admit it is far more concise than the Vow of Consecration of Suffering that I wrote five years prior to my coming upon this guide book in the Benedictine Monastery's (and seminary) library.  Yet I am further emboldened that Jesus, His Mother, the Holy Spirit, and my guardian angel approved of and inspired all that I wrote in my personal offering, since I was unaware of any other like-kind offerings already written.  (I do plan to share it in a blogpost; for one thing, it is humbling in the pouring out of far more detail than necessary!)

While I emphasize the seriousness of offering to suffer in union with Christ, and to offer the sufferings the Lord deigns to allow us in the course of our daily lives, I also remind that when we offer to suffer and offer our sufferings in union with Christ, he determines if and what and when and how much.  Also, we no longer suffer alone nor without help.  We suffer in the faith, hope, and love of God Himself.  His yoke is easy, His burden light.  He is with us through all, even when we forget in the throes of suffering that we have offered ourselves to suffer in union with Christ.

I will add that one time in particular the Lord sent an angel to remind me of my offering.  It was after I had made a simple offering of my sufferings in union with Jesus, for His Church.  That offering was a simple prayer, a pleading sentence or two off the top of my head one morning while praying before the Tabernacle, not long after I'd become Catholic but upon learning of something terrible that a priest was allowing and in fact benefitting from--reprehensible, really, and I was not able to dissuade him.

So that night, in a dream the Lord sent an angel to me.  The angel was in the form of a woman, and she sat by me and tightened a halo around my head.  It was in effect like the spinal headache that I was suffering in a pain siege.  I cried out in pain, and she simply spoke in gentle tone and with slight, kindly smile, "But you agreed to this, did you not?"  Yes, I had, and I admitted as such.  

Nor will I forget that I agreed to suffer... other than when in the throes of suffering--particularly sufferings that are of the persecution types involving people, especially my fellow Catholics or priests, or when I am taken unaware by some suffering caused by a wrong action of someone or thing unexpected, of the temporal world.  Yet I still complain; I still do not suffer heroically or well due to my own weakness of will and imperfect faith and love.

With more perfect faith, more hope in God, more love of God in Himself I will suffer better because it will not be me suffering, but me in Christ and Christ in me, suffering in His exaltation and His purity of love as God.

God bless His Real Presence in us!

Catholic Hermit: Heroic Suffering

Not.  Am not suffering heroically.  I think at one point, years ago, perhaps I broached the point of good suffering, of prayerful suffering, of maybe even valiant suffering.  But never have I heroically suffered.  Certainly do not think so, and I am not currently.

This nothing consecrated Catholic hermit finds the vow of suffering I made years ago, as well as the prayers offering myself to suffer for souls and for the Holy Catholic Church--went on and on in words.  I meant every one.  I would repeat it to a priest--various priests--over the years.  I'd repeat the vow of suffering, typed and with additions of various witnesses--on the Feast Day of St. Padre Pio, Sept. 23.

But now I know I suffer not well.  I lack the patience, the gentleness, the strength to suffer to a point of prayerfulness nor holiness.  I'm worn out!  I admit all these aspects to the Lord.  I admit it to others, and now to you, readers.  I admit I am a weak and poor sufferer.

I admitted it in confession.  Not suffering well.  The priest said the Lord knows I am doing my best.  No, I am not doing my best.  Yet I seem not to have the discipline or impetus to try harder.  I have no idea.  When pain goes to a certain level, the head feels "spacey".  I managed to get the two miles (drove, simple roadway) to the medical facility to have the lab work done for upcoming surgery.

I snapped when one of the clinicians asked if I was doing the blood draw to be sent to "Dr.  S-------."  "He's NOT a DOCTOR,"  I pointed out sharply, firmly.  They corrected their error.  I mentioned probably in vain:  "It is a medical misrepresentation, and people are unaware because medical facilities are referring to physician assistants fresh out of college with master's degrees, as 'doctor.'"  

Yes, the blood draw can go to the young man they referred to as doctor.  I will receive the report, and thankfully I read the Mayo Clinic site last night to know I needed to fast or the blood draw results would be invalid--a factual reality of which the young physician assistant was unaware.  I'm old, but I am concerned yet of aspects of the temporal world in which people coming after me or currently, are not receiving honest or proper medical care due to their not realizing they are not dealing with a medical doctor with far more years of education, training, and experience than a PA.

I won't be going back to the PA; the test result will be accurate due to my having read I must fast prior.  The result would not be accurate had I left myself under the control of the PA, and would mean, per his defensive phone call to me yesterday, thyroid surgery.  And that is not at all necessary now, when it is my back surgery that is crucial.

The accurate test result is going to go to the medical doctors' group to which I'm being referred by a doctor in a different group, a different hospital system.  If I have the ailment the PA was jumping to assumptions ahead of any accurate testing, then I'll be thankful to have the thyroid surgery--after the spine surgery.  And that surgery is finally, thankfully, scheduled a week from today, provided the new lab work shows nothing to delay it further.  I'm past ready.

So here I was, getting caught up in the craziness of pain.  I was snapping at what is a lie, yes, a deception, yes; but these medical clerks and clinicians don't even realize the ruse that is sweeping the country, of many hospital groups and various medical clinic groups that are misleading patients by granting a title of "doctor" to the equivalent of a master's degree.  Yes, that is impressive, but still they are not medical doctors.  

How many patients research the persons they are being set up with for appointments, who are not doctors but called that?  How many patients see a PA's certificate framed on a wall which lists the actual degree bestowed and from what college or university?  Colleges are not created equal--another reality of this temporal world.

Even fussing around about this proves how temporal I've become.  Sunk!  Sunk far from thinking of that which is above, although perhaps there are a handful of people now who will at least seek the truth of the background of the person who is handling their painful or serious symptoms.

Yet this is not my vocational call, or so I don't think.  I'm simply over wrought with way too much pain.  And a very good PA who admits is a PA, has mentioned that the pain is at the point that pain meds have not much effect.  Truth!  How blessed is Truth be it spiritual or temporal!  Both, is best!

I'm trying to pray for others.  There is a young father and husband a couple thousand miles away who is in a hospital with an arm that was torn in two pieces, a crushed ankle, a head wound--from riding an ATV.  He crashed.  I'm praying for him.  Deeper conversion!  Even temporally so:  Don't ride dangerous vehicles.

But see how horrible I--this Catholic hermit--have become?  With my awful spine of the past 35 years, done in by a drunk teen and suffering the results ever since, I point out in my mind--ask the questions:  Why would anyone ride an ATV who has responsibilities to children and spouse?  Why play with fire when one has a family dependent upon him or her?  ATV's are notorious for a preponderance of risk and are high-accident prone.

It is why, when I see a motorcyclist without a helmet (and sometimes with), I consider how much good that person can do someone if they've signed off as an organ donor or if their family does when they learn their loved one, usually young with healthy organs, signs off after their brain dead.  It is fact that the highest number of organs for people in need come from motorcyclists.

I get blatantly grumpy.  I have dark thoughts at times, and I know I should not have them.  It is not so much of doing myself in, although I easily have those thoughts when the pain is severe and protracted for longer than it seems I can rightly handle it.  It is that I am not suffering in a way to make God proud of me, nor to impress others as to meritorious suffering, not at all!  I don't seem to have the strength of will to do so.  I wonder:   Have I even lost the desire to "try"?

Or maybe I just need to accept this humiliation of being a terrible sufferer, even now that I have at least the goal of trying to make it to surgery.  Then how on earth will I suffer the aftermath of surgery?  I've already been told that due to my bone situation, and the reality that all the old pain will not change but at least this newer, added pain has a chance of being relieved, that my recovery is going to be long and restricted.  

I must stay in the present moment yet not in this presence of such pain.  Stay in the hope of desiring to suffer even without quite as much pain-craziness.

Lord, I'm trying to want to suffer well or even any bit better.  I have been watching movies of saints, and I admit I just don't have it in me.  My one hope has been that my late spiritual father, the Spiritual Da, has put in a good word for me with Jesus to let me join him and various others whom I love and love me, whom I've not been with since they've passed.  

With that hopeful thought, I might be able to get some oomph to suffer better in hopes that if I suffer well, with nicer thoughts and more tolerance of those who don't realize they are practicing medicine out of their depths, out of their league, or whatever my gripe and grumpiness, then maybe I'll stand a better chance of getting to the other side, even if a long time in purgatory having my vast impurities expunged.

Then I reconsider, for it is said that if we do better while in this life, it is best.  On the other side while getting our act put together in order to be pure enough to share the light of Christ, it can seem more the challenge because we will desire all the more for heaven, for purity.  It is all more clear when we are out of this temporal realm because we do not have the temporal distractions.  That is the suffering--of seeing what we long for yet learning what we did not learn here.  Perhaps that can seem longer than suffering this now, hour by hour, day by day.

I am ungrateful for the blessings!  I have been able to at least be mobile even if in constant pain, all these 35 years, other than in the pain sieges.  I could get up and garden, or paint a wall, or use other means to distract myself. I could clear my mind from pain enough to read a marvelous book which takes my mind to Christ and to all goodness.  But now I'm immobilized at this point other than a painful half hour or so upright, and then spaced out from pain of nerve issues going up the spine, as well as into the legs and feet.  The head is disoriented from odd nerve sensations.  Usual pain meds aren't touching it!

And this is the plight of every single person who suffers.  So many suffer!  And we all will suffer at some point or many points in our lives, other than those blessed ones who die in their sleep, or who have a sudden, massive affliction that separates their bodies from life on this earth, and they find themselves leaving their bodies and entering into the joy and bliss of eternity with God, to one degree or other.

But, now I recall the sharing by the dermatologist a week ago.  One of his patients told him of a death experience she had.  She'd not been living a good life; she'd been doing wrong, or not her best.  So in her death experience, demons chased her with pitchforks prior to God sending her back to live.  The dermatologist asked his patient, "That really must have changed your life totally, surely?"  The woman responded, "No. Not really."

Wow!  My death experience had me changed all the more--all the more religious, all the more desiring to please God, to glorify God!  I have been praying for this woman, wherever she is now, here or on the other side, somewhere, hopefully not with the demons having pitched their forks into her forever, cast in hell.  Perhaps if she passed and did not come back, she converted just in time at her judgment.  But I can wonder what is someone's chance when flaunting themselves after God had given them such grace of a second chance?

Well, he forgives and forgives and forgives.  God is mercy and love.  Yet I must be very careful.  I must shape it up!  I'd best not be so snappy and so grumpy.  Of all the graces God has given me probably due to all the suffering, I'm not pleasing by my seemingly not lending myself to His loving grace and rather fussing in agony.

i don't know.  Just my thoughts.  I really need to, though, have the grace to be gracious.  I need help suffering better.  So here I am, always asking God for more.  He's given me at least a time for a surgery of unknown outcomes, but will be more suffering before less, of that I do know.  So I'd better beg and beg for the grace to suffer better, as more is to come.

Heroic suffering is possible. I must have that kind of faith.  Yet, if better that I be humbled knowing I am not suffering any where approaching heroic suffering, then thank the Lord that I be humbled.  But as far as kindness and gentleness to others, or some means to warn people--it could be as simple as the intake person this morning said to me:  We have to do our own homework these days (as to medical considerations of which we are being treated).

I will try to renew my vow of suffering.  Every single word I should probably read and ponder, and to recall that time in my life in which I was inflamed with (too much, I think, looking back now) zeal. Yet in that time period of my life, the Lord would have understood my being quite zealous in, yes, like the young PA: a well-intentioned zealousness.  I was filled with zeal of a new convert, of one recently entering into deeper conversion of major phase, much like the PA having graduated college and excited about research and hoping perhaps of having found an "unusual case" to discuss with endocrinologists.

I've been there. I've been like that.  I recall after my Master's Degree, I was filled with lots of ideas and statistics and recent studies and ways of doing things in my temporal profession.

Now, I simply need to submit myself to Christ, to surrender myself fully to His Real Presence, and try to be still, to not squirm in this suffering body.  Keep my mind, heart, and soul more stilled.

God bless His Real Presence in us!  Remember, He is in us!  We are in Him even if we think or feel we are not!

Hermit Lessons: Whoa--More Suffering!

Have been doing some digging, planting vegetable seeds and even some flower seeds.  Must have pulled or torn the right "Rhomboid" muscle.  It is that one between the spine and the shoulder blade, and this one on the right upper back.

Have a very high pain threshold, measured years ago, but honed for nearly 31 years of constant suffering.  But it seems that a new, severe pain can really do in this hermit.  Can barely breathe or make any movements or there is sharp, breath-taking pain.  Have been praising God for a muscle relaxant and pain meds, even though they do as they do for the back pain and constant headache: take a bit of the edge off.

This hermit is not used to managing this additional area of severe pain that verges on excruciating, with some movements in particular.  Now, how can this be placed in context of letting go of temporal loves and passions?  Well, it is practice in letting go of this hermit's attachment to plans for this day.

It is the Lord's day, not ours.  He determines in all circumstances the Order of the Present Moment.  Let go of attachment to love of managing pain, for example.  Humble down and take what medications are available to help manage; and praise God for them.  Yes, the medications are humbling, or the having to take them at this phase of life, age, and pain levels.  Just this week, the elderly aunt and another person suggested that surely diet could help the hermit become better and better and not need any medication.  

A friend considers medication as poison to the body.  Her health has been in decline ever since she went on a rather radical diet that was much in vogue a year or two ago in a major way--one of those diets that some people are are thus disposed can follow kind of in an extreme and cult-like fashion--totally convinced that it is the only way to eat.  Two food groups are cut off, completely.

The hermit praises God for this added pain that occurred yesterday afternoon.  All work ceased, of course.  Even trying to walk around the hermitage is very painful.  So it is hit-the-mattress time, and use ice pack now and then, and take meds that can help rest the strained or torn muscle.  (It really does not matter whether it is sprained, strained, or has a slight tear--the pain is letting the body's mind know that the muscle needs rest and healing.  Ice pack, lots of water to help flush toxins that develop around injured areas within, prayer, rest, and praising God are the antidotes.)

There can be no attachment to self-made plans or projected thoughts of what would or could be accomplished today.  The most that will be attempted is to hold the hose with left arm and hand, and water the seeds that were planted yesterday.  And doing that is, of course, dependent upon His Real Presence.  Will He let the hermit tolerate the pain enough to do even that?  We will find out.

If not, the seeds will remain without water, in the earth, and will need to rest and rely upon whatever moisture might be in the soil, which is probably not a lot.  But it is amazing when we realize that farmers sow seeds in fields, and they do not then go along with a hose or some huge apparatus and water their entire fields--acres and acres of crop seeding.

What a marvelous way to learn more about how God can answer a prayer.  When we ask for something, such as for His Will to be done and for Him to detach us from our attachments to our particular temporal loves, He answers.  The answers can come in ways that frustrate--until we see that He is teaching us that we are attached to what it is we have planned to do in the temporal realm.

Today the Lord obviously wants the hermit to not "do" but to "be."  Received a short message from a friend whose daughter had a baby on Thursday.  The baby is lethargic, has a temperature, and experiencing difficulty feeding.  The doctors are trying to find out what could possibly be the problem.  The two-day-old infant is not being released from the hospital.  Prayers are asked!  Am praying!  There is such a difference in our plans for any given moment, and God's plans.  Go with God's flow.

This hermit and its body will simply need to rest, pretty much immobilized unless can ambulate without causing the Rhomboid muscle more movement and irritation, needs to manage the added pain, and will join with the sown seeds tucked beneath gentle soil, waiting to germinate when God determines.

God bless His Real Presence in us, and us in Him.  Remain in the rich ground of His Love.