Catholic Hermit Needed This!

God provides!  It has been a very rough couple of days.  With the reality that Raphael is not going to be helping with finishing some heavier type work here, and not having anyone human around to help, came a text from someone beloved but by choice (not the hermit's), estranged.

The text applied pressure, and the hermit emailed back, expressing it is doing the best it can, working as hard as it can, and praying for God's will regarding the living situation, the property, still unsalable.

But the good Catholic deputy returned a message, and he is willing to stop by sometime to help the hermit carry in some "greenboard" so the hermit can begin drywalling the downstairs bathroom.  (In the meantime, the hermit has been hard at work in the heat of desert exile--outside and in--trying to keep gardens watered, spreading mulch, building a barrier for bird netting to protect the strawberries!)

The deputy had other news.  The hermit somehow said it before he shared; touch of God's grace. "How did you know?"  Well....  Anyway, he and his wonderful family are moving.  Why?  They want to be able to go to a valid Catholic parish.  Their priest spiritual director from afar insisted they must not attend the one in this far-off area.  Why?  The Mass is not licit.  The priest is psychologically unhealthy and unwilling to pour himself into the glorious work the priesthood imputes.  The parishioners are uninterested in spiritual growth.  Ah, so also the hermit had experienced the same and was told by its director to stay clear.  Sad to have it validated by another who is selling his home for the sole purpose of providing valid worship and Catholic instruction for himself and his family.

The text from the beloved family member came later in the day, after a marvelous phone conversation with the hermit's spiritual father.  Isn't it uncanny how so often God gives us some huge uplift just prior to a tough trial laid out before us?  God knows best!  So the text came [how the hermit wished it could do as the person would like but cannot, must not], and then the hermit emailed some thoughts and realities.  An invitation, also, was extended that if the beloved person would visit and lend some physical help with tasks needing a second set of hands, the hermitage could progress, and then it could be finished, sold, and the hermit and the other would be free of the property agreement.

No response.  No help is coming.  The option was offered; the choice is made.  The estrangement continues.  The hermit became discouraged--and not aided by the heat of this desert exile, nor the manual labor with increasing pain.  So, the hermit got up early and headed to get a load of mulch. What else to do but keep putting one foot in front of the other?  Hope to sell some veggies out by the road.  Borrowed a table a week ago when visited the daughter's family overnight, in civilization.  Ah--and was blessed with a hot shower!

First one in over six weeks.  (The hermit considers how on earth did those early hermits manage if no fresh creeks nearby?  Not in the desert!  At least this hermit can spit-bathe at the sink.  But, this is something:  The cleansing sweat when out working the soil, removes whatever toxins, evidently.  There is no noticeable odor.  Water, watermelon, cucumbers--help the cleanse from inner to outer.  It's really not so awful, after all.)

Still, the hermit's spirit was downcast with the reminder of the painful, estranged relationship.  Hope was evaporating.  The emotions weakened to near-tears.  Then the hermit picked up a book it had not finished reading--Pseudo-Dionysius: The Complete Works.  The marked spot where left off, produced this marvelous message. Before commencing reading, the hermit prayed that Dionysius or whoever he was and is, would speak through his insights from God given him those 15 or more centuries ago.

"One cannot exist in contradictory realities at one and the same time, and whoever enters into communion with the One, cannot proceed to live a divided life, especially if he hopes for a real participation in the One.  He must be firmly opposed to whatever may sunder this communion.  

"All this is sacredly suggested by the symbolic tradition which strips the postulant of his former life, deprives him of the very last attractions of this world, stands him naked and barefoot to face westward and renounce with outstretched hands all dealings with the darkness of evil, and everything in his past which signifies difference, and makes him exhale, as it were, and renounce utterly whatever is opposed to the conformity to God.

"Strengthened thus and made free he is turned to face eastward and he is told that having abandoned evil he may in perfect purity endure and look up to the divine Light.  With these, his sacred vows of complete inclination toward the One, the tradition receives him who has become one-like out of a love for the truth."

[The aunt from far away then called with a couple ideas for the hermit--plus lots of encouragement.   (She is an incredibly strong woman, strong soul, honed by a wallop of suffering years ago.) No, do not cave to the pressure of the beloved family member.  Yes, it does seem that the content of the text and all about it, caused upset, confusion, much sorrow in the estrangement.  But another painful reality is that even if the hermit capitulated, causing itself to be even more vulnerable to the world, the relationship with this beloved one would unlikely improve.  All that has been and continues to be is now the choice of the beloved person.  The hermit can only keep praying, working, and hoping to make little bits of progress in the efforts.]

The hermit then paused and prayed, reading what Dionysius had to share.  The insights became the prayer.  At a point, the hermit found itself taking deep breaths and exhaling from it's inner being and through the lungs:  the "dealings with the darkness of evil, and everything of [the hermit's] past which signifies difference, and whatever else [God only knows the full extent of it] is opposed to the [hermit's] conformity to God."

God bless His Real Presence in us!  Little children, let us exhale whatever keeps us from remaining in His love and being conformed to God!

News; Efforts; Perspective

For now continue to keep up with the news, online.  One station, video clips, not all, mostly headlines--this gives enough of the grasp and details for praying.  Still wonder if not knowing would do as well.  But this current approach seems helpful so as to not become too caught up in self.  Is an occupational hazard of the human condition, perhaps enhanced by social media.  Those living alone can be particularly prone.

Mark did not show up today.  Finally called, and he said he thought this nothing was to call him.  No, last conversation ended with "See you Wednesday"...but let it go.  God's will.

Someone had emailed in the early morning, asking about mindfulness.  Nothing Catholic hermit wrote back, explaining the Order of the Present Moment, mentioned the Nine S'.  Recommended Br. Lawrence's classic, Practicing the Presence of God, and de Caussade's Abandonment to Divine Providence (also translated as The Sacrament of the Present Moment).

It is to that reminder that His Real Presence prompted the nothing hermit to take it well that the help was not coming today.  So decided to start the process of measuring and very carefully boring 2" holes through some studs, with very little space in which to do it.  Crawling under sink in that base cabinet, used the corded drill which a clerk had recommended for better power.  However, it jammed and whipped back on the hermit, wrenching the twice-operated-on shoulder and whacking the side of the hand.

Read something quite poignant and painful of a woman's past:  a fourth child and only daughter, born years ago with a major birth defect that then was not treatable.  Their princess died after five months in the hospital, never able to be brought home.  So was thinking of this little angel, and also of the anguish it would have brought to the parents.  Over time, the mother grew to understand the connection with her daughter, and what a special gift she is, across the veil.  The mother offers now to share her angel in heaven, as she has come to pray and ask for assistance from this precious soul.

When the painful drill-whipping occurred, this nothing began sobbing and thinking it simply could not do this overwhelming work!  Too hard!  Am too old, too tired, too weak!  Thoughts turned to the older woman, and her long ago birth of daughter.  Suddenly began sobbing and feeling it a kind of sobbing in kind with the woman, for the anguished tears she must have wept many times over when her baby girl was born with such a dire defect.  One can only hope this nothing felt some of that great hurt of a mother in losing an only daughter in infancy, never having her home--five months in a hospital, then death.  

Somehow, all these aspects develop a sense of perspective. Called Raphael, and he said to use the battery drill--that the corded one is too powerful with those large hole-boring drill bits.   Am not strong enough to control a corded drill when it jams and whips.  He is sending a helper tomorrow for the heavy work-needs here.  Sensing the support of the new friend in heaven, used the battery drill and bored the holes through which the new sink drain vent system will run.  Had to stop when realized need yet another size of hole bit.  So it all has to wait until next trip to civilization.

And all of it seems very small, somehow, compared to today's world news, and in thinking of an only daughter--or any child--being born with uncorrectable defect (at least then).  All these construction frustrations are a very small bag of worms, indeed.  The higher-again pain level today is but a small matter in the full spectrum of suffering humanity. The Order of the Present Moment comes to the fore, once again; and the body needs rest yet, so as well Mark did not come.  

Found it interesting in reading the more detailed book about Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross, that Teresa expressed verbally to others and in writing of her wish to not have to live.  She longed for release from this life, this earth, the world.  Yet, she lived out her life, seeking God's will and loving Him beyond measure.  She did what she was to do, her work, even though she suffered chronically.  Could so totally relate with her feelings and the words with which she expressed them.

God works all things to good for those of us who love Him.  Trials and tragedies sooner or later radiate the blessings and spiritual growth tucked, always, in them.  Just look for them immediately, as that saves us a lot of upset.  God provides for us in the details large and small, in the present moment, without fail.

God bless His Real Presence in us!  Little children, let us love--and weep, rejoice, and share with--one another!