Catholic Hermit: Thinking About Love

The manual labor continues as much as the pained body can muster. There are very few days remaining in which the temperatures are high enough and there is no rain, in which to continue painting the deck, pergola--and if good weather holds long enough--the front porch flooring.

Each day, also, I am trying to paint one side each of two doors, each on a set of saw horses here beside the mattress on the floor of the hermitage great room.  The deck took much preparation: hammering popped nails as well as installing over 300 deck screws to keep the nails from further "popping" their heads up.  Then I had to sand the entire surface.  The next two days were for priming the surfaces, and then each nail and screw indentation needed wood-filler.

All this was hopscotched between rain as well as waiting for the heavy dew to dry enough--taking at least until early afternoon.

But the pith of prayer has continued, and there have been four persons who either by a phone call or email correspondence, have confided some rather serious dilemmas going on in their lives, involving loved ones and also themselves.

Life can be quite painful.

And I began to conclude that the bulk of our human relational issues has to do with control.  We desire control; and I suppose, who wouldn't think that a marvelous ability--to control situations and people in them?

And I thought some about how difficult it is to control oneself.  And I will be more specific in what I was thinking: How difficult it is to control my own self!  Difficult to control thoughts, difficult to control impulses, difficult to put mind over matter when it comes to pain management, difficult to make the body work when it wants to give in to itself.

But above all, I had an insight the other day amidst my becoming quite drawn into some of the troubles people were relaying to me, asking for some input in some cases but mostly wanting a listener, a supporter, and someone who they know will PRAY.

What came to me in the four or so scenarios of real lives dealing with real crises, is that all our lives would be much smoother and peaceful if we simply accepted people as they are.  

To do this, we'd have to let go of control or a desire to control.  We'd have to let go of our own thoughts as to what would be best for someone else; and in some cases maybe it would be better for them.  But we must learn to let others live their lives just as others have let us live our lives.  And above all else, God has given us freedom to live our lives, to learn our good lessons and to make our regrettable mistakes.

But back to what struck me as the insight, of which somehow I'd not considered it so profoundly in its simplicity prior--all these years of freely living life--and that is that by accepting others as they are, we are actually achieving the act of loving others.

Admittedly, I wonder if I really can accept some people.  And thus, can I say I love them?  Sometimes I am told personal aspects of other persons' relationships, and some of the situations involving spouses or children or other relatives and friends in people's lives can be horrible.  Some people are quite ill emotionally or psychologically, or both.  Some are abusive, some passive aggressive, some afraid to be assertive and thus accept abuse, or some can manipulate others or situations to a despicable degree.

So can I accept all others as they are?  Can I, thus, love them--for love is so connected with the other, with accepting others as they are.  For, truth be told, that is how Jesus loves us.  He is able to love us because He accepts us as we are.

And of course, we must include the reality that while love is perhaps interrelated or conditioned with accepting others as they are, we know that we do not have to accept sin, wrong-doing, nastiness or vice-blighted situations.

Realizing the connection between love and accepting others as they are has helped me in the few days the insight (after all these years!) somehow struck me anew, with a reality that is actually simple.  Realizing that not accepting others as they are means that I do not have love for them--unconditional love.  Not accepting others as they are means I still have a need or desire or purpose of control of others, of lives not my own.  It means I am deceiving myself, for I would not want to think I am playing at being God....

There have been some pretty awful situations shared with me and for which I have prayed, and in some cases the situations are so nasty that I developed a great dislike for an abusive person.  While I prayed for the person and the situation, I readily admit that I did not love the person.  It is not easy loving someone who abuses others.  

Yet, somehow I now am able to love by means of accepting others as they are, including an abuser or the murderers in the news, or maybe even myself with all my flaws and foolishness.  And I am learning better to separate the sin from the person--something I've thought I was doing for the bulk of my life, but I realize I was not succeeding in a deep way.  For there would be irritation, or frustration, or anger within my thoughts when being told of some of persons in situations. 

How can I pray well if I am not accepting others as they are, for how can one pray purposefully, successfully, in communication with God Who Is Love--if I do not love with full acceptance--people as they are?  

So I'm working on this insight, working it into my heart, mind, and soul.  I kind of practice by bringing forth in the mind some of the most irksome, nasty, abusive, murderous people out there, not only in the present moment but also from the past.  And I look at them with the reminder to accept them as they are--which means to not judge them....  

I suppose this all seems simplistic to most of you readers, but somehow it all was stupendous to me the other day, and a marvel, for even if I might have considered it at various times in life, I could not recall that I had, for I'd never absorbed the depth and impact of it, and the truth that I have not been loving anyone who I was not accepting for who she or he was or is.

And thus I have had a stumbling block in my love for God, as well.

As St. Bernard explains that the highest degree of love is to love God in Himself, I suspect it is also true that the most Christlike love of others is to love them in themselves.  To really love them as they are which means to accept them as they are.

It is all quite a relief; it is all quite freeing.  Accept others as they are; love others in themselves.

Catholic Hermit: Building an Altar for God

Each day of our lives, there is always a newness to the Living Word of God.  A few days ago, I noticed something I'd not particularly pondered in the familiar Old Testament Book of Genesis.  The account of Noah and the ark, concluding with the Lord saving creatures in His creation--well, I never noticed this one little line:

Noah built an altar for the Lord.

He did so in celebration.  Noah desired to honor and thank God for saving creation, for having the flood waters recede, for man's being once more firmly footed on dry land, for surviving when so many did not.

Then I read portions of Psalm 116:

How shall I make a return to the LORD
for all the good he has done for me?
The cup of salvation I will take up,
and I will call upon the name of the LORD.

My vows to the LORD I will pay
in the presence of all his people.
Precious in the eyes of the LORD
is the death of his faithful ones....

This nothing consecrated Catholic hermit wonders at the Lord's love and patience for us.  Just the breath we take is good that God has done, let alone all the times we have been protected and provided for in ways we may not consciously notice.

Why is the death of God's faithful ones precious in His eyes?  I wonder at this and consider that God views spiritually, mystically, eternally; He sees into hearts and knows the depths of our souls.  The death is the dying to ourselves, the letting go of our insistences and self-convictions that we are somehow in control of creation and of our very lives.  Pride must die; humility must live.  Faith in God is precious to God and also to those around us who are affected by our lived example in the details of everyday life.

Perhaps our making a "return to the Lord" for all the good He has done for me resides in my faith in Him and very much in my desire and attempts to love God in Himself, as Himself, and loving others as God loves.  He loves us for ourselves.  He loves us and finds us precious because we are His to love.  

When we believe in God--simply believe He is our Lord and Savior, believe he is God--we please Him.  When we place God as our all and die to our own tendency to dominance and pride, we are all the more precious to God.

So each day I am considering in what ways I can build an altar for the Lord.

Yesterday I did so by driving two hours each way into civilization to spend an hour with a daughter who does not keep in contact much.  In fact, I would not have known she was in the vicinity had it not been for my inept attempt to leave a Valentine message of my love for her, always, on her voicemail....and a spark of intuition from the Holy Spirit that gave a nudge within that maybe she was near.

Today I am going to build a ceiling cover for an attic space opening.  This will be a type of literal "altar" for God in thanksgiving for His love and protection.  Yesterday when dropping the daughter off at the airport, a desire to give her a loving hug good-bye distracted me, and for the first and hopefully only time ever in my driving history, I did not put the truck in "park".  Thankfully, my daughter noticed; what could have been a horrible injury to someone removing luggage from their trunk in front of us, was averted, for my truck was on a slow roll.

But more so than thanksgiving to God, building an altar to God is an act of creaturely love for our Creator.  To me, constructing a wood ceiling board covering for the attic access opening represents the portal through which our bodies, minds, hearts, and souls have a spiritual opening to His Real Presence: God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  This reality is like an ark experience, all the time; we are ever loved by God and His mercies are endless.

We just open the portal within, that opening of eternal access from our temporal lives to His mystical realm, any time and hopefully, increasingly, all the time.  We can build an altar for God with a thought, with an object-metaphor, with words, with our hearts exuding loving affection, and with unseen faith in Him.

We can build an altar for God with a kind word or smile, with a reminder that we can love others no matter how they feel about us, that we can learn and help others learn in our lives in which all is a learning process--learning to love and loving learning to love God in Himself and others as He loves.

The cabinet installers are coming soon.  The one young man, learning the trade, had difficulty accurately marking where to drill for cabinet door knobs.  He also had difficulty drilling a hole on the mark made--mis-marked in most cases.  How do workers learn a trade if not by practice but also being taught ways in which to maximize success?  It is like loving God and others--we learn as we go along; we learn on-the-job of living life itself.

So I am praying that he will not take offense, nor the young man who is already extremely skilled.  I admit that I've put off installing knobs in the bathroom cabinets; I know how difficult.  So I got a template to use, to make sure the marks are accurate to begin with.  And I will use a tiniest of drill bits to first make a pilot divot hole, and then use the more difficult 1/8" drill bit to bite into the little divot hole and thus hope (and pray) for better accuracy!

I removed the many knobs not measured correctly so that perhaps the young man will see visually, or will be willing to use the template in future rather than a tape measure for such precision marking.  We shall see.  If I could impart how many times I've had to re-do construction aspects in here, or make amends and learn more tips on how to better do many things in life, perhaps he will see that we truly are in this life together, and helping others to learn and to succeed is all about love.

Maybe building an altar to the Lord has to do with building a holy and thankful offering in all ways: an altar of Love.

Catholic Hermit Shares: Alone Yet Not Alone (Song) Performed by Joni Eareckson Tada

Over four decades ago, in the first or second year of this nothing consecrated Catholic hermit's short-lived earthly marriage, one summer I read the autobiography of Joni Eareckson Tada.  The book consumed me, or I was consumed into it.  At the time, the book covered the diving accident and subsequent trial of a young woman's altered life as a result of paralysis.

She turned to God in deep and abiding ways.

Little did I know then that my life was within ten years going to be turned upside-down by an accident.  While not paralyzed physically, my life would be paralyzed forever on earth by intractable pain and suffering.  All temporal aspects of my existence changed with major life losses of marriage, career, job, health insurance, income, and any form of daily consistency.

What remained constant was my love of God and love of family, particularly the three children the Lord blessed me to continue to rear, albeit quite imperfectly and inconsistently for their young, innocent lives.  And much later, the Lord would lead me into the Roman Catholic Church in addition to ongoing hardships which all the more hone the human body, mind, heart and spirit through suffering yet toward increasing reality that God loves us and God so loves that we love Him in Himself, simply as Himself as God Is Love.

At the time I read Joni's autobiography, she had no idea what the future would hold.  Her biography brought her to notice publicly which ensued in speaking engagements and her own radio program, and additional book publishing opportunities.  Along the way she met a young man who was hired to assist her; they fell in love, married, and he has remained a constant in her life ever since.

So our lives vary, but the Lord remains constant in His faithfulness and love for us.  He has missions mapped out for us, and much of our lives are spent in seeking the map and then trying to follow the map as best we can.

I'm in one such period of temporal time in which I am having another look at the map while hoping to continue finishing up in this phase and locale.  I've been asking the Lord what is my purpose--and He keeps answering yet again the ultimate truth that it is to love, to love to learn to love.

While my earthly journey includes the rather counter-societal and non-Protestant understood or perhaps acceptable vocation as a hermit, an eremite, a religious solitary, and I am to remain more hidden than not for Jesus once told me that, I remain open to whatever jog in the pathway along the journey in life.

In this current pain siege (of which I suspect the Lord allows in order to turn me in silent suffering and limits my physical capacities for a spell), He has turned me to more simplicity in love and to considering the basics of what can reach into most people's lives which is relating in genuine and, well, relatable ways with humanity.

To this, the other day I was reminded of something a mother of a childhood classmate said to me upon my return to hometown where a judge had allowed relocation to rear my children with the support of loving family and friends of the past made present.  This woman referred to another classmate of her daughter's and mine--a female who became driven to studies and academic achievement to the exclusion of relating with others.

I know this to be true, for the girl so self-driven to academic achievement was an assignment for me.  I had sensed she needed a friend, and later her mother even asked me to do whatever I could to help "Tammy" be included, be less driven to her studies, to want to relate.  I tried but not with much success; yet I had actually wanted to befriend the young woman long before the mother ever asked and had done my best then, too, as well.  I owe my own mother thankfulness for she encouraged me when quite young to play with Tammy, and I always enjoyed doing so.

Unfortunately, I had become an obstacle to the young woman as a threat or block to her goal to have the best grades.  In the end, she did place first in the graduation class; and she went on to college and medical school, and she eventually married a fellow doctor and had children.  It all worked out for her, and I pointed this glorious fact out to the mother of the other classmate who was speaking to me upon my return to the hometown.  Whereas myself was cut down by many aspects of the temporal world--divorced, injured for life, suffering constant physical pain, and also bearing wounds of the heart.

The woman said that everyone recognized that Tammy was driven and pitied her, but that I was the one who had it all--brains, beauty, and personality.  She said "You were and are the genuine and real deal.  You are relatable."

Well, I tend to disagree as the woman did not really know of the mystical inner life going on of which some if not most people tend to have quite a difficult time absorbing let alone relating.   And in temporal terms, "Tammy" has led quite a successful and normal life, after all.  Someone mentioned after a recent class reunion that she looked "GREAT!"  Sadly, so many people made fun of her in high school, perhaps due to her frenetic, self-driven, rather neurotic, isolating existence.

I admire Tammy for focusing on her goal, utilizing studies to the exclusion of others.  It honed her for success through medical school and into a career far from the pettiness and judging of small town classmates and parents.  One thing that I did regret was that she was not interested in further friendship with me because she used me as a point of competition.  That, I am not nor want to be for anyone.

Yet, the Lord is this week reminding me of this snippet of memory, cut in two and pasted together in segments of time, now brought into the present for perusal.  And here is this memory of Joni Eareckson Tada.  I rather think that the Lord prepares us early on in our lives through various means, as a means to undergird us for what is to come in our lives.

My earthly garb remains that of mystic, hermit, parent, soul and suffering servant--but to be relatable all the way in humility and touching the real lives of real people in the real world.  Nothing pretentious, nothing highfalutin.  Just myself as God as unfolded me, and yet I am to write.  I am to write and help others stabilize their emotions through spirituality, in love.  To help others see and be and love God in Himself, to receive and accept His love for us, and to love others as He loves us.

I have no idea how, exactly, but I do think if I live past this phase and am able to move on, I will focus on constructing images and message more than walls, plumbing systems, wood ceilings and tile floors.  Perhaps.  But never alone no matter how alone one might feel along the way, following a map that shows no moving images of what the next destination will be.

Enjoy Joni's song, sung not long ago as an adult.  In the video, her husband, companion, caretaker, stands by her wheelchair.  I had not realized what a beautiful voice of which God gifted her compared to her speaking voice.  Her prayer prior to singing prepared the opening of her lungs to the Holy Spirit's touch!

Catholic Hermit: Peace of Christ

Yesterday's optional first reading at Mass from the Living Word of God, continues to inspire my hopeful thoughts.  I consider that much of the time, I really do not have what I'd consider "peace"--and especially that it controls my heart.  But perhaps I am mistaken?

I doubt it, other than if I am confusing the peace of Christ with some other idealistic type of unattainable peace.  And, I just might be expecting an idealism in peace, an unrealistic form of peace something akin to "feeling" that all is wonderful, that all is acceptable and fine.

I don't think I possess that kind of peace, nor does it control my thoughts, and maybe not my heart.  And yet the Word mentions the peace of Christ controlling our hearts.  The peace of Christ may be something different than my notion or understanding of peace.  I suppose there can be a peace that is not the peace of Christ--and that other peace is where my idealism interferes with reality.

Today, the last day of this calendar year but already over a month into the liturgical new year, this nothing consecrated Catholic hermit will brave the cold downstairs of this hermitage.  I will quickly dress and climb the ladder to the warmer upstairs and continue with bits of drywall hanging and begin scraping 112-year-old painted newspapers that was pasted onto wood plank ceiling, and in the 1920's thick, gauze-backed wallpaper was tacked to the ceiling.  Thick wallpaper is removed, but many tacks need tedious removal.

While in the manual work mode, I will ponder the peace of Christ.  I have some questions to ask the Lord about His peace; and I very much want His peace to control my heart.  Maybe it does, but I doubt it.  I doubt it not just because I don't always feel it--and maybe that is the problem.  

Perhaps Christ's peace in our hearts is not something we "feel."  I'd like to think we can feel it; sometimes it seems as if I have felt peaceful deep in.  But that seems to be in times when my physical pain is not so high, or when there has been some spiritual insight that draws me in, or when something even in the temporal goes particularly well.

Last evening I received a phone call from a pediatrician friend of the past.  Used to be a neighbor--used to be before my moving after my now-adult daughters went off to college.  House seemed emptier and different with my son and me in there.  Plus, I had financial unrest--not peace controlling my heart or mind, I'd say--for helping with college costs and loss of child support made income matters tough.  

Yet also, it was such a lovely home, and I was not at peace with being in a lovely home that I thought would require more stress on finances with upkeep than would a lesser home.  And I was deep into starting a marvelous soup kitchen for those needing a touch of love, that was growing by leaps and bounds.  My heart was not so much in a house, then; and I saw personally the poor and felt uncomfortable with my differential.

However, now it comes out that my son (and I suppose daughters)--all adults--wonder; and the son, at least, has some anger over my selling that house and the major downgrade and of more moves in the next few years.  The financial relief was good, but I got into a mess of a house.  This time a Catholic realtor failed to check a box that would have given me an "out" once there was an inspection.  And I wanted out after the inspection revealed multiple problems yet could not legally get out of the sale.  

I could have sued the realtor; but instead I worked five years on that place--mostly cosmetic but included new roof, windows, siding and furnace--and kitchen.  Structure was fine, even noble, and the rest involved painting, patching, and wallpapering, redoing floors--lots of creative fun, actually.  But it was not the home we'd had, and we existed in adaptation mode.  

Then with son off to college and daughters married and away living their lives, and my mother near death, that house seemed too large.  The neighborhood became less stable, and lots of not-good had occurred with parishioner uproar and gossip regarding this mystic hermit.  While many Catholics were irked and gossiped, others secretly looked to me for spiritual guidance and friendship.  It was tricky in a hometown I'd returned to and converted to Catholicism. Changing churches among people who have strong feelings about religion was not such a peaceful transition.

So then to a larger city, and that is yet more a story of unfortunate settling into a house without realizing--not heeding the dream warnings--that it was going to be a rough road ahead.  Was not long before a mentally ill neighbor became obsessed with me, and her husband and adult son were deep into their dysfunction.  Lived with that lack of peace--death threats, harassment, stalking--for several years until my family and the sheriff deputy urged me to move before my protective order was to run out.

Not a peaceful existence there, although I had comfort and financial stability and a most glorious garden that was ever-so-peaceful to gaze upon.  It's just that when I'd go outside, I'd have to contend with the unknowns of the neighbor lady--cursing, telling her son to shoot his gun over at me, blowing a loud horn out her window, standing on deck in a stare-down mode...and so much more.  Yet, I learned to act as if I did not notice (but the gun-shooting thing did have me fake-calmly beeline into the house).

Anyway, the phone call from the earlier on pediatrician neighbor in the lovely home I'd had built for us after a judge in another state let us make our escape from a harassing and costly existence post-divorce and post-disabling car accident, brought up more thoughts and feelings last night.  The former neighbor was thrilled to have found me, as we'd lost touch. She updated on how loving the neighbors--nearly all still in that cul-de-sac, and that I should never have moved.  

That point came up, and I concurred.  In the conversation it all seemed so...peaceful...there.  I realized that back then, when I thought I had not the finances to handle maintaining the degree necessary of a beautiful home, it was not so peaceful within me. With my spiritual purpose shifting, my son entering high school and money then to send to a private school, and to help pay for a daughter's study year abroad--I made the move!  

So last night while the thought of how I should have just stayed there, this morning I did not at all have peace about what if I'd stayed in that house.  It might have kept my family bonded in coming back "home" to visit--maybe-- and would not have uprooted the son; but at the time he did not seem to mind. We lived closer to a friend of his in that move, and he could have guitar lessons and have the basement as his studio, and the attic was transformed into a television room, and we could afford a car for him to drive to the Catholic private high school, and later was money to help him with college.

I suppose the lack of peace has to do with myself.  Part of it is pain.  Pain does not make one feel at peace.  And lack of peace has to do with the mind, as well, as thoughts can enter in, such as the conversation last evening that brought back memories and in which the pediatrician expressed how wonderful all the neighbors are to one another.  Sounds good compared to my situations along the way.  However, this morning the reality of how it would have been to have stayed--not a peaceful thought.  

Financial stress is not peaceful.  Guilt of too much privilege is not peaceful, at least not to me.  I think of the poor and of how Jesus lived His life on earth.  Yet this hardship life here while more like Jesus in the cold, or when there was no bathroom in here or rain coming in--I realized quickly I am not nearly of Jesus' strength and peace of heart!

The peace of Christ is something other than temporal, that is for sure.  And somehow if I can begin to fathom the peace of Christ, I will have answers as to how it might be, and how it is to have His peace control my heart.

I admit, it does sound wonderful, and I want His peace controlling my heart, very much.  I so want the peace of Christ to control my heart!  And it is Christ's peace, Paul the Apostle writes, that called us into one body.  One body of Christian believers:  His peace in our hearts calls us to love one another, to be for one another.  

I do love hearing that the neighbors in that cul-de-sac are loving to one another, helping each other out on a daily basis, making the pediatrician's life far better after the death of mother--and children now adults. Yes, that sounds very good, and I think all that love holds the secret to Christ's peace.  

And the cul-de-sac neighbors are of different churches--Protestant and Catholic, with a now-older Protestant couple doing the bulk of the outreach.  Good, loving people, and the others, including the Catholic pediatrician, reciprocate and enter into the charity.  Yes, that has something to do with why hearing about the neighborhood gives a peace in the heart which I think is Christ's peace.  

Thinking about love and hearing about love feels peaceful. 

But for me, I am not there, not in that situation. Nor are you, dear readers, although some of you may have His peace controlling your hearts.  And I'd think if I had Christ's peace controlling my heart, perhaps I'd be at peace in far more comfortable living conditions or would not be bothered by financial insecurity. 

However, surely Christ's peace controlling our hearts must not be simply tied to a situation nor to certain people.  There is something mystical about Christ's peace controlling our hearts--yet with concrete results evident.  And those results are love, I am pretty sure.  

And the love in the heart hopefully alters the thoughts to a peaceful loving and positivity.  I hope so, anyway.  But I do think that negative situations and hurtful ones, and unloving, uncaring persons as well as physical pain do challenge the heart's receptivity to Christ's peace.  I suppose it is the mind that gets in the way, most.  And it is the situations and people that we are in and around that can alter the mind and hinder Christ's peace in our hearts.  

Being shunned by parishioners is not conducive, nor is being around those who do not love.  Of course, one must love first or at least participate in love.  I think that is why Jesus said if you offer your peace to others and it is not returned by them, shake off the dust from your sandals as a testament against them and move on to the next place.  

The neighbors in my current desert are not interested in loving one another.  Some have made it clear, and the one neighbor's inexplicable, recent push-back seems clear enough.  My finances are at all-time low, ever in my long adult life, with perhaps a half year or so remaining for me to finish and sell, or sell unfinished.  Shake the dust from my sandals and move on to the next place.  

Can we truly and always have Christ's peace in our hearts?  Can this be accomplished?  I think so, I hope so, I pray so.

This renewing of some loving contacts of the past, including a widow of a friend in the UK, has brought a sensation in my heart and has brought positive thoughts of such loving people into my mind.  This is all good; it is good to reconnect with love and to reach out to others in love.  And I can continue the efforts here, but I must make sure to shake dust and remove myself physically, mentally, emotionally when required.

Yes, very much, I want to get to the bottom of this matter of the peace of Christ controlling the heart.  I want that more than about anything, I think, this last day of the calendar year.  I want to be thankful, too!  It is all attainable, surely, but maybe with a little key of wisdom. Today I ask and wait for the Lord to explain how--and then for to bring His peace in my heart to fruition.

"And let the peace of Christ control your hearts,
the peace into which you were also called in one body.
And be thankful."

Catholic Hermit: Called to Be Holy

Today the universal church begins, together, proclaiming and pondering St. Paul's "Letter to the Romans."  These lines stand out, having awakened this morning remembering my mother's passing on this day 11 years ago.  I reflected upon her lovely life and her recommitment to Jesus Christ toward the end of her life after exploring a bit off the narrow path.  The Lord called her back, better then ever before!  

Last evening I watched a couple or so video clips of old "What's My Line" television programs.  I recall them from childhood and found myself laughing aloud in the hermitage--some much-needed laughter after some deep, inner questioning and praying for the Lord's guidance and will in various matters.  Yes, I saw Jesus in the laughter; I saw Him in the decorum of people, recalling the 50's and '60's before the yawing opening of our society to more an "anything goes" attitude.

It is not as if sin did not exist prior.  Of course not!  But people more attempted a refinement of loveliness and decency, at least externally.  And the external is a reflection of the internal, as the internal also illuminates through the external.

It is as if a weight has lifted from this hermit, a Catholic, a Catholic professed and avowed for this lifetime in the Consecrated Life of the Church--and more so, espoused and betrothed to Jesus Christ for now and all eternity.

The hermit's young helper's mother returned the call yesterday.

I was able to smooth things over, to apologize, to explain that when I am in Mass and in the very deep mystical state, that all is fresh, clear, raw, unfiltered truth.  In no way would I ever flee from Mass in horror if in the conscious, filtered, temporal state.  Like those before who shielded their inner problems (TV contestant Dorothy Kilgallen had a drinking and infidelity problem but masked it, as another side of her was decent, loving, warm, intelligent, and refined), I would have, during Mass if a priest or some other person did something that was distracting or off-point and off-kilter, simply ignored it and turned the thoughts to Scripture, to Jesus, until the disturbance had passed.

My spiritual father has ordered me not to return to the parish, nor to try to help or talk with the priest, nor to alert the diocese for they already know the situation and are handling it in the way that works best for them. (In God's will, He will take care of the priest and the parishioners over time, in His own way.  There is always opportunity for deeper conversions.)

And that is where this hermit's soul is, now, in the Order of the Present Moment.  I am at a point of deeper conversion.  My rule of life presents itself more than ever: to follow the Gospel Rule.  As a fellow Catholic hermit of yore discovered, the Gospel rule is the perfect rule of life for hermits and for anyone.  So within the Gospel Rule, within the Living Word of God, I am trying to live a life of love, utilizing the Nine S' to support and engage living the Gospel in the Order of the Present Moment.

Silence.  Solitude.  Slowness.  Suffering.  Selflessness.  Simplicity.  Stability.  Stillness.  Serenity.

There will be no more parishes in the foreseeable future.  I was able to explain to the helper's dear mother, that I do not desire to see through situations, through people.  Yes, if all is good, it is bliss.  If not, it is horrific hell to endure.  I have been trying very hard to do as the temporal Catholic rules and laws ask--and then a long-time friend who visited last week reminded me that for centuries, Catholics received Communion once a year....

I have been, with the help of priests and a specialist with the paranormal, trying to figure out what God wills with this rather rare mystical ecstasy at any and every Mass.  I have not so much considered that He wills me to a greater silence of solitude of being with Him.  I had ignored five visions and dreams with locutions (messages) directly advising me that I do not belong to the world of parishes anymore.  The first was within two years of becoming a Catholic!  Since it did not seem to jive with the norm, for I was not in the consecrated part of the Church as religious brothers and sisters, all along I have continued to try to go to Mass in parishes--with rather difficult outcomes.

No one is to blame other than me, I do agree!  I have been not paying attention to the signs, to the messages, to the dreams and visions.  And it was all right to do so because there is this gift called discernment that we must cooperate with fully--not lean unto our own understanding but seek the guidance of wise others and also then seek affirmation and confirmation from the Lord in His Living Word and in His guidance of our souls, in every present moment.

His ways are beyond our understanding and knowledge, for the most part.  What is asked of us it to have complete faith in Him, and to receive the peace He bequeaths.  The peace of the Holy Spirit is always a very good sign that nothing other can replicate--His abiding peace!  Abiding.

We can detect sin in ourselves and others when there is ugliness, envy, pride, vindictiveness, treachery, deception, bickering, detraction, wrong-judging.

I do not want to be in any of these categories.  That is not my nature and never has been.  This morning I feel a cleansing from my sins and a sense of light and love and being lifted out of what I had tried so hard to figure out, to go along with, to be a part of that which the Lord had me pass through, benefit, and then have my angel take me to the Stairway to Heaven.  The Mass is the Stairway, with all its beauty and wonder.  But what is in the Mass?

The Sacraments, all of them, and His Living Word are in the Mass.  The life, death, and RESURRECTION of Jesus Christ are in the Mass.  The passageway between the temporal and into the eternal mystical, union with God, are in the Mass.  And the Mass goes beyond the time and place.  In the Mass, we are sent out to take His Real Presence into life and into lives temporally and mystically, now and forever.

Although not the norm according to the temporal rules which are very good indeed but Jesus is clear that no temporal rule is necessarily eternal, there is the Gospel Rule of Life, of abiding in Him and He abiding in us, that transcends.  Many canonized hermits and saints came to this, and usually through much persecution and with negative judging by others.  Yet they persevered.

Yesterday I was thinking again about John of the Cross and Padre Pio.  They did not leave off their vocations or their temporal names in religious life, nor no longer consider themselves to be Catholic.  Rather, they more deeply understood their vocations, their roles, their Catholicism and very much so their Christianity as followers of Jesus Christ.

So it is with this nothing consecrated Catholic hermit.  Yes, I could use the name I had in religious life, even if I did not remain in that community.  I could go by Pio of the Wounded Heart.  But that is so very temporal, and as a hermit, I am not the same as John of the Cross or Padre Pio.  I am called to be hidden, and to more know the name by which I will be called in heaven, a name told me by the Lord some 19 years ago this fall during a bit of a taste of heaven in the here and now.

But even that, remains a name for heaven, not for my hermit life.  No, I am simply a consecrated Catholic hermit. That is more than enough name.  It reminds me of my vows, of my life and place in the Catholic Church, and of my vocation as an eremite.  And my given name, thought of by my late mother before I was born and gifted on the day of birth, means "gift of God."  That is beautiful!

I thank my mother many times over today, for her lovely life and her loving me and nurturing, protecting, and holding out all kinds of hope in what I might accomplish in life, to do good, to love, to thrive.  She instilled in me a love of God, of Jesus, of the Holy Spirit!  I have already this morning apologized deeply for the bungles I made and still make!  But love transcends our errors when we are sorry, and when we so want to do much good in Christ.  To be holy--that is the desire of this heart!

Through Him we have received the grace of apostleship,
to bring about the obedience of faith,
for the sake of His name, among all the Gentiles,
among whom you also, who are called to belong to Jesus Christ;
to all the beloved of God in Rome, called to be holy.
Grace to you and peace from God our Father
and the Lord Jesus Christ.
--from Romans 1

God bless His Real Presence in me, in you, in us!  Little children, let us love one another for God Is Love!  Accept, embrace, feel, reflect, and share His Love with Him and each other! 

Allowing Love to Take Over

Have been gutting the final wall and part of the slant-ceiling.  Was thrilled to come upon Rat #50.  There have been more than 50 rats rid out of here including body parts, but only kept a count on whole ones.  Took a photo; that seemed appropriate for the celebration:  Golden Jubilee of God's Lesser-Liked Creatures.

Not sure why we don't like rats.  Perhaps it is due to their disease-carrying gifts, plus they rapidly reproduce, make extensive nests, and love to chew coated electric wires and plastic pipes if carrying water.  This hermit wonders if it has to do with their being so intelligent.  We humans may feel a bit insecure with rodents that are so bright.  A lesser-known fact about rats is that their feces is one of the highest allergens.  No wonder this hermit has had to take an antihistamine daily for the past 19 months.

There are seven more, angled-ceiling, ship lap boards to remove.  Just have to take a break, though.  There are boxes and some piled furniture in the way, and the hermit's back is starting to give signals.  While using the prybar and reciprocating saw to remove the tongue-in-groove boards, the strength of 110-year-old nails impressed.  Far easier to remove contemporary nails, not as quality-strong.

Prayers for the poor ensued with the rat discovery and the globs of birds nests, also.  Perhaps the openings are secured now.  But for the very poor who live in tenement buildings or in huts in a third-world country, there are no means of keeping the rats away, or snakes, or cock roaches, or many of the known disease-carrying critters.  Tenement owners do not always care about their renters nor take care of their buildings.

________________

Then, a thought recurred.  It has been effervescing in the hermit's mind and heart, off and on for awhile.  And it has been tested, too, for sure!  The thought is:  Why not allow love to take over?

It would make life so much easier.  It would make life fun.  It would simplify matters with all relationships and even with people one does not know personally but may differ in outlook, such as with politicians or criminals one reads about or hears in the news videos.

Yes, why not allow love to take over the body, mind, heart and soul?

So this hermit started doing just that.  Just let love pervade.  When someone would come to mind who has been less-than-kind, or someone who has overcharged or not told the truth, or someone who has lurked in the memory as being cruel and unfaithful--just let love flow.  Just love the someone; love all the someones.  It is so simple!

Then, came a test.  A someone arrived who did not like being here.  The hermit loves this someone, but the someone's frustration gurgled to the surface.  Anger swirled in surliness and tension.  Grumpiness ruled the someone.  This hermit began to pray within.  Lord, please let love take over.  Then at one point, when we had changed tasks several times in order to try to find something the person (who dutifully came to help even if dislikes this type of work) might like better or find less frustrating, even that task caused grumbling and frustrated moans.

So the hermit said it would do it, not to continue.  Another someone interjected that the other was just making noises.  Well, we continued, but there were two other occasions of heightened stress; the hermit persevered in God's patience (was not the hermit's!).  Then the someones decided they needed to leave.  It is always good to know one's limits.

The effect on the atmosphere and the effort at allowing love to take over, had made its mark on Te Deum Hermitage as well as the hermit in it. Yes, in this first major test of allowing love to take over (in which there were actual someones in person), love had become an "effort."  For that night and next day, the hermit was depleted and weepy.  The situation was so very sad.  Why could not a someone that age and with good health, very bright and educated, and a Bible-reading Christian, not control the temper and be of better cheer?

Well, why couldn't a Catholic hermit of 14 years and  in the sixth decade of life as a Christian, not allow love to take over not only during the challenging time of physical presence, but after?  Why the weeping?  So in theory, allowing love to take over is delightfully simple.  In thought it is accomplished, just like "that."  

But in practicum, even with praying while in the challenging situations with someone or someones, allowing love to take over requires grace.  And grace is necessary after the encounters, for it is God's grace that allows love to take over, in addition to one's desire and will.

As for the weeping, by the next day, this hermit realized how much it does very much love the someone and that someone's someone who came to help.  And it made the hermit very sad to think that the someone is so tense and grumpy in a lot of instances, not just helping out here.  This hermit realized love was taking over, after all!  It is love that causes the sorrow, for one can love someone very much, and pray and hope the someone will feel that love, be healed by that love, and not be chained to whatever it is in the past that has formed a frustrated temperament.

Yet again, this hermit considered its own struggles with physical pain.  It seems as if living always in allowing love to take over would be quite easy if this body was not chained to so much physical pain.  But, perhaps there are someones out there who think they would be filled with love and free in love, if only their their minds or personalities were not chained to so much mental or emotional pain.

Still, allowing love to take over is a good thought, a good practice, and good desire, and a grace for which to pray.  If one can allow love to take over in the mind, when thinking of someones who otherwise could be upsetting or who do not seem to allow love to take over in regard to their own thoughts, words, and treatment of ourselves or others, then we can praise God for the grace of love taking over in our thoughts being loving.  

It is true, that this hermit has been set free when it has allowed love to take over with thoughts of any number of someones, of all someones!  And, although it took a bit of suffering and grieving when the practicum was at the hermitage doorstep, love did take over; but it was not easy.  Yet love took over, all the same, and the body, mind, heart and soul are free in that glorious love and ready for another in-person practice session of allowing love to take over.

The Second Letter of John, Verse 5, seems to be the Apostle of Love whispering a reminder in this hermit's soul:  


"...I ask you, not as though I were writing you a new commandment, but one we have had from the beginning, let us love one another. And this is love, that we walk according to his commandments; this is the commandment just as you have heard it from the beginning—you must walk in it"

God bless His Real Presence in us!  Little children, let us love one another!  Remain in His Love, walk in His Love; and all the someones we think of and encounter will be taken into His Love by our allowing love to take over.