Catholic Hermit: What Are the Odds?

Praise God Almighty!  What are the odds of my Lyft rides today?  God provides!  Besides my truck battery being dead again despite turning it on and running it for awhile in "park" each day, I need another jump and probably a new battery.  Regardless, I am not physically able yet to drive myself to today's dental appointment.

I'd put off this appointment for over three months, as the crown on upper left molar--or whatever causing the pain--has been terrible and never simmered down all this time.  I had the dental work done prior to July 23 spine surgery.  So as I needed to do on Monday, I got a Lyft ride to the dentist this afternoon, bracing myself with accepting the suffering surely to come in the form of a low-to-ground economy car which is a "given" to increase back pain.

But what shows up but a fairly new SUV Mercedes-Benz?  I declared it a miracle to the driver!  The Mercedes driver, like the driver of the burgundy red Dodge Ram 2019 truck of Monday's return Lyft ride from the osteo doctor appt., does the Lyft driving as a little extra something to keep busy and make a little money.  These two drivers appreciate their comfortable vehicles for all the other times they drive themselves places.

The dentist--marvelous Christian man--had me see his son, who I met for first time today.  He is a recent graduate of dental school.  Congratulations!  After prodding the upper back molar and telling me what a beautiful crown it is (of which at the time I was convinced was awful crown and wished I'd not have it!), he took x-rays.  His dad came to confer and look also at the x-rays, and immediately pointed out that the nerve root shows signs of irritation and something to do with ligament change that also indicates root canal needed.  But it is not abscessed, so that is good.

I'm new at this stuff--crowns and root canals.  All I know is that the molar seemed slightly improved lately, but has relapsed a bit again.  I thought the crown would have to be removed to do the root canal, but to my amazement and gratitude, the root canal specialist just goes up through the crown to do the work.  Not fun and costly, but for pity's sake, I am so blessed to be able to have dental care and dental work done, and be able to pay!  I can wait awhile on it, though, for I'd like to be able to drive myself; the Lyft rides just to get to appointments add up in cost, and my low income cannot sustain many added costs if can be avoided.

But this is the "crowning" point of this post-sharing.  What are the odds of what comes next regarding my Lyft ride back to Solus Deus Hermitage?  I had mentioned to the dental receptionist (all of them are marvelous Christians) how God had provided two miracles in the Lyft vehicles for the last two rides.  I said I'd better buck up and accept whatever comes in the return trip from the dental office, as I made the necessary smart-phone contacts for  Lyft.  The receptionist and dentist and his son said maybe God will give you another miracle.  I said I was not expecting more than all the good already; and within myself I let the Lord know I offer whatever pain as prayer.

(Just prior to leaving for the dental appointment I'd received an email from someone who reported the situation with an adult daughter, the young woman who was in love with a young man who was not feeling the same way in return, was being tempted by a previous employer with even a higher salary offer to return to a job 2,000 miles away and where it had not worked out well before, but where the young man lives.  Just two weeks ago the young man had told her to not return on account of him.  It was heartbreaking for the young woman, but as we humans often do, it is hard to accept when God is not opening doors in the way we'd like.  He also allows the devil to tempt us to do what is not the most prudent, and also to deceive us often with our emotions, to what is not so promising.  I'd written to the young woman's mother that I will continue prayers and specifically would offer the Lyft rides and whatever pain may be increased.)

Back to the dental office.  I arranged for the Lyft ride home, and lo and behold!  Up popped a vehicle diagram and my ride but three minutes away.  "Look for Edward in a 2019 Dodge Ram truck."

No way, but yes--this is the very Edward and his marvelous, smooth-riding, burgundy red truck that picked me up from the osteo center on Monday!  Again, I ask:  What are the odds?  So another miracle, and an even less painful ride than the SUV Mercedes, and Edward and I had a chance to further connect with conversation and amazement at the unusual blessing.  He had just left work and turned on his Lyft work connection.  (This is by no means a small area in which I am located, so it is truly unusual and highly unlikely to have this occurrence.)

I'm offering prayers for the young woman as praise of God since I do not have increased pain as also an offering.  I'll offer the $50 transportation cost, too, as prayer.  And I'm offering this portion of Psalm 13:6, as well, to the glory of God and in thanksgiving for the joy of daily miracles!

"Though I trusted in your mercy,
Let my heart rejoice in your salvation;
let me sing of the LORD, 'He has been good to me.'"

The dental staff and Edward the Lyft driver were given by God a manifestation of interior aspects of the mystery of the Church--through example of the personal intimacy of Christ-- despite the hiddenness of a nothing consecrated Catholic hermit.

God bless His Real Presence in us!

Catholic Hermit: Calming from Catechism

I've read this selection from The Catechism of the Catholic Church.  I apply it to many aspects of life, and for me now, pinned like a bug to a specimen board, squirming in pain and not yet dead, perhaps the aspects of contemplative prayer are akin to how the Lord Jesus would like me to be suffering.

2717  Contemplative prayer is silence, the "symbol of the world to come" or "silent love."  Words in this kind of prayer are not speeches; they are like kindling that feeds the fire of love.  In this silence, unbearable to the "outer" man, the Father speaks to us His incarnate Word, who suffered, died, and rose; in this silence the Spirit of adoption enables us to share in the prayer of Jesus.

I don't need to explain to you readers who have far more wits about you than I do in my bug-squirming, pained body, my head more than half out of it and just typing away rampantly.  (It is a distraction but perhaps helpful one, better than a complaining tone to a neighbor when I tried to get up and go outside, using the trenching spade as a support pole.

Silence.  Silent love.  I do love Jesus so very much!  I do think I ought repeat my lengthy, wordy vow of suffering as a sort of penance, as a means of humbling myself for I know the silence of pain, of my stilling myself despite feeling as if I am going crazy from the suffering is likely better for God, for others, and for self.

Be still.  Be silent.  Smile.  Indeed, such silence when suffering so does seem unbearable to the "outer" man, to me.  It can be that way for us humans even when not suffering.  But at least a consecrated Catholic hermit--or hopefully so--finds silence not at all unbearable but quite sweet.  I love silence!  It is just that I have difficulty when in extreme pain not having distraction.  And distraction even if silent distraction, is not really, fully silent.

You know what I mean better than I can express.  I know you do!

It is a goal, a hope.  Something for which to try to be:  Silent in and out of suffering.

Today we celebrate the Ascension of Our Lord--well, used to be today the Holy Day of Obligation. 
The Church will celebrate Christ's Ascension into Heaven on Sunday.  Today it still is the Ascension.  My first Ascension that I knew that it was celebrated, after I began my private instruction to be confirmed a Catholic but yet not confirmed, I decided to burn all the hate letters from my temporal ex-spouse and included a letter or two from the ex-spouse's new spouse.  

Burned them in the back garden in the children's old hamster cage.  (The fire department approved an in-town burn if in a metal container; I'd told them it was old letters.)  As the ashes rose up into the sky, I prayed that all the hateful and untrue words written about me and to me, would be as ashes turned to graces, and would become holy as gifts given to God above.

Today, yes, perhaps I ought to offer this incessant and crazy-making pain, in the same way.  It is already burning!  It is burning from the nerves on fire, shooting flames in my body, simmering like coals in my lumbar spine.  These sufferings are my offerings, to have them ascend with Jesus to God the Father, by means of the love and action of the Holy Spirit Who on Pentecost will renew indwelling in us all.

Each of us will celebrate this Pentecost either on earth or in heaven--and pray not hell.

Pray for silence.  Pray in silence.  Breathe in silence.  Be stilled in silence.  Suffer in silence.  Jesus suffered, died, and rose.  So shall we some day, some hour, some moment.  Let us do so in silence of the kindling that can be pain, that will feed the fire of Christ's love.  Of our love for Christ and for others.  Let me love others as I love His Real Presence!

Catholic Hermit: And More Pain

The drill-whip injury to the right hand, somehow got re-injured late yesterday.  Excruciating pain.  I tell ya, it's kind of a blessing because it takes the  mind off the left knee/calf injury of last June, and the deteriorating condition of my spinal fusion and rods--awaiting surgery.  I may just have to get into the pain doctor soon so he can refer me to a hand surgeon.  

Was supposed to have it operated on a year ago December, a year after the injury, but I needed the hand to finish the hermitage where I was, in order to get out from under what I've termed "death therapy."  Great experience to die to self, be stripped down to more austerity as a hermit, to rely more fully on the Lord God.

Thankfully I have the brace I wore then,  and found it even though not unpacked in this hermitage: Solus Deus.  Had just uncovered the various braces and bands, thanks be to God!

I simply cannot write much; but I figured to report this development as it is causing me all the more to consider that God is allowing the added suffering.  I just need to switch gears, accept the pain, seek Him in the pain, and let lots of temporal aspects slide by the wayside.

And that means to focus more on the "ora" and less the "labora."  

It will be good for me to be forced out of what I think is a case of acedia--spiritual sloth!  The priest confessor last week was not convinced, as  he thinks the suffering is worth a lot.  But of course, I think I should be aligning and embracing better within the suffering.

Hermits are humans, of course and after all!

Last night I was tempted to get to an ER as the pain in the right thumb base was so severe.  However, reality comes into the situation, and  I just need to wait it out until I can get a referral to a hand surgeon.  The only reason I will contact the pain doctor is that he seems to know who are the best surgeons for various body parts.  Pain meds don't really touch this level of pain much, so no need in that regard.  

Just keep it still.  Don't move the thumb--at all.

Gotta try to mow the yard, though.  One can pray for and consider people who have lost right hands or right arms, and realize if they do not have a prosthesis, they learn to use left hands and left arms.  Resiliency is needed in the temporal and spiritual realms, both.

But I think the Lord with this latest pain affliction, is asking of me to examine more fully one of the Nine S' of my hermit life:  Stillness.  That, also, seems to be what is needed not only physically or by body part, but within my mind, heart, and spirit.  Just some stillness in God's Presence--must be!

God bless His Real Presence in us.  God bless you all on tomorrow's Palm Sunday!  Hosanna!

Catholic Hermit Ba-a-a-ck!

There are many "backs" in the past couple of days.  This nothing consecrated Catholic hermit's back, as in spine, is back to more functional thanks to a moment of clarity last Monday in which I had the sense to try pain meds at therapeutic dose and regular schedule.  The debilitating nausea from radiating low back pain was toned down just enough to be able to rise and even shim and hang a double closet door.

Praise God from Whom all blessings flow!

Then I received a call from the Apple Store in civilization that the laptop is repaired, thankfully under warranty to the last day or would not have had funds to fix it.  And also, I was able to manage to drive  "back" into civilization not only to retrieve the laptop but also to make the orthopedic hand surgeon appointment. 

The surgeon was most impressed with the x-rays showing a "most unhappy hand," as he put it.  He shook his head with how I've pushed the body, but when I explained the long-standing back pain, and that I'm no longer a good assessor of pain and thus at times can keep going beyond what is normal, he understood.  Thus when he asked if I could feel tingling here or there on various fingers, I could not.  He understood when I explained I so much keep my mind distracted and out of my back pain, that I have to actually make my thoughts return and enter the body and focus on feeling various aspects of the pain.

And thus, he talked over the surgery necessary, and the four-month recovery period, and he listened to my explanation of the mess I'm in financially and physically with needing to finish (if possible, of course) this abode I got myself into.  He thought perhaps best that I try to finish despite the hand pain and torn ligaments and tendons, to wear a brace, and finish if I can relatively soon.  For the length of recovery would take me into spring when I was hoping to list, in order to pay back the personal loan a family member gave last spring.  The hand is already a ruination, so it cannot get much worse!

I tried the brace yesterday morning when trim painting a final coat on some boards to finish upstairs closet openings, but the brace presses on some tissue that is most painful.  So I'm "back" to going without a brace and letting pain indicate what I can and cannot tolerate.  And the hand cannot tolerate much.  But more dictatorial is the low back pain which even with sleeping on the floor and dispensing with the mattress, is quite a load-full of suffering.  Even with the pain meds now, I was way too nauseous yesterday to continue with additional efforts, upright.

However, praise the Lord that the edge of pain, toned down, has been blessedly adequate to chase all morbid thoughts that were plaguing me and of which I had to battle increasingly--up to finally battling day-and-night.  It is no way to live, battling those dark thoughts!  Too much pain it was, more than the mind and emotions can bear over extended period of time!  God provides, and I'm thankful despite some family and friends making most unkind and ignorant comments regarding needing medication.

I've already started praying for the blind faith necessary to proceed and to hope that I can have that low dose of relief through the storm fronts that are a direct correlation to the high increase of back pain.  If not, God knows.  Will face whatever when that present moment arrives, one way or another.

I continue to be bolstered by a couple comments by St. Paul.  "That God may be all in all" and "I have not suffered yet unto blood."

I have called now two times to request anti-nausea medication and refill of pain medication, to the primary care doctor, with no response thus far.  Monday I will try again.  It is a shame to have to go "back" to any dose of medication, even low dose, but one must recognize the limits.  I have since asked two spiritual friends who keep in touch via email or texting, to remind me to take pain meds if I should get myself so crazed from pain as it has been, that I cannot think clearly as to what will help.

With the hand surgery, it will be a fascinating social experiment, or perhaps a test of the depth of charity in parishioners or anyone here, to see if there will be someone willing to drive me to have the hand surgery and to tote my carcass back to my hermitage!  I know God will provide, even if it means I remain at the surgery clinic until I have wits and energy enough to drive myself.

Then, I received a most unusual letter from my spiritual father, and he needs money.  Something is amiss for he no longer receives a stipend; and he has a woman there as his power of attorney and who handles his checking account.  He should not be hung out like this in his circumstances, now retired after offering of himself for years in service to the Church.  

A trusted financial advisor and tremendously faithful Catholic is one whom I turned to with a phone call. He is going to investigate.  In the meantime I sent what cash I had remaining from the vegetable stand, of which I had in an envelope in case one of the young men returned for a day to do some heavier yard work, on a non-stormy day...!  I am thankful to have it and to be able to send it. as the financial advisor thought that best until he can figure out what is going on.  The priest needs protection from whomever or whatever has left him in this financial state.

Bless his heart; he wrote that he evidently had mismanaged.  I don't believe that one bit.  He is the most prudent of souls, and also, though, generous.  There were some transitions going on in his living circumstances, and he did gift out much of his funds for the diocese was going to absorb, in the transition.  Yet, why he has no more a stipend is a mystery to be solved.

There is nothing I will not do for this holy soul, this marvelous priest, the only one who knows the innermost parts of my own soul and the souls of many, save of course, God's knowing all souls.

I am back to doing whatever I can--hand, back, nausea, counsel and prayer, meager acts of charity.  I am fine if my anam cara  and I go down together financially. What I have is also his.  That's how I view it, and I pray that the financial advisor can get to the bottom of the situation.  We need to establish a trusted means that what I share is going to the priest and none other.

Now to attempt some manual labor, praying the nausea does not take over.  Yesterday it did.  It is only pain, only nausea, and while this is true--pain is most powerful.  Human pain is what caused Jesus to cry out on the cross, what caused Him to cry tears of blood in Gethsemane, what caused Him to be disheartened that his beloved disciples could not wait but one hour with Him.  It was human pain that caused Jesus to weep over Jerusalem and to weep at the grieving love when going to raise Lazarus from the dead.

When suffering becomes heightened, pain becomes the constant, autonomic prayer.  In suffering, we pray always in an instant of our offering all to God.

And we know that with the Lord, and thus also with those of us who are through, with, and in Him, human suffering is also spiritual and divine suffering.  There is tremendous physical power in pain, enough to bring down the most stoic of persons, enough to create ancillary pain issues like debilitating nausea, tears, and wishes to die.  

And there is tremendous spiritual power in pain, enough to cause prayers to be highly efficacious; and in the divine aspect of pain, there is power enough to unite us with Christ in the present moments of agonizing suffering.

We are all back when we suffer with the Lord and offer our sufferings for the glory of God and His holy purposes in all matters of earth and heaven.

Catholic Hermit: More on Christ's Peace, Love, Prayer

The lovely and kindly couple from the parish (which is a driving distance) arrived Sunday morning with Holy Communion.  The woman hoped that their bringing Communion the Sunday prior somehow helped me endure my living conditions.  I am sure at some level and dimension, yes, His Real Presence in tangible form does help all aspects of body, mind, heart and spirit.  His Real Presence in mystical form, spiritual communion, prayer and known essence also helps.

What I think helps this nothing consecrated Catholic hermit, also, is the fact of this couple's willingness to sacrifice time, energy, and effort to bring the consecrated Host to me in my woebegone hermitage.  So when they gave me a bulletin from the parish and noted it contained a prayer and write-up on "peace", I was intrigued.

This past week I have been praying and pondering on what is Christ's peace, as correlated to the Colossians scripture, "Let the peace of Christ control our hearts."  In review, the insights I received in the silence of solitude here point to Christ's peace being integral to His love.  Thus, to "remain in" Christ's love is requisite to have His peace; and to remain in His love and peace requires a letting go of self-love and includes a receptivity to Christ's love (and thus His peace) to control our hearts.

So I've considered quite a bit about love this week--specifically Christ's love, loving God in Himself, and the desire to remain in Christ's love.  I pray to remain in His love and consider the Living Word saying:  Remain in My love.  

Thus, I was curious as to the prayer for peace that I think is one suggested by the Church in general, the temporal Church by means of perhaps the United States Bishop's Council or even some office headed by clerics of the Vatican.  I don't know for sure, but I share the prayer here, all the same.  (It is recommended to "use The Prayer for Peace in Our Communities with your family, school, faith community, or in other settings.)

"Let us pray...O Lord, our God, in your mercy and kindness, no thought of ours is left unnoticed, no desire or concern ignored.

"You have proven that blessings abound when we fall on our knees in prayer, and so we turn to you in our hour of need.

"Surrounded by violence and cries for justice, we hear your voice telling us what is required...'only to do justice and to love goodness, and to walk humbly with your God' (Mi 6:8).

"Fill us with your mercy so that we, in turn, may be merciful to others.  Strip away pride, suspicion, and racism so that we may seek peace and justice in our communities.

"Strengthen our hearts so that they beat only to the rhythm of your holy will.  Flood our path with your light as we walk humbly toward a future filled with encounter and unity.

"Be with us, O Lord, in our efforts, for only by the prompting of your grace can we progress toward virtue.

"We ask this through Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen."

Now, why am I having difficulty even reading through this prayer, let alone repeating it?  I don't know what has happened to me!  It seems like such-type prayers groups or congregations read through--which maybe they did during Mass.  In its communal effect verbal prayers hold goodness and merit for the unitive, intentional act of everyone reading, praying, aloud.  Yet, to me (and perhaps to children) the mind escapes amidst words strung together one after the other.

The prayer sounds like so many church or devotional prayers that someone or other writes (perhaps I have, in forgotten past!), striving to include pastorally-correct words, theme, and cadence that seem always to be used in these prayers.  There is even the use of poetic imagery such as our hearts beating to the rhythm of God's will, and flooding our path with God's light.  (The imagery is helpful for jolting minds back to prayer content.)

Still, the prayer to me is a penance to get through; and while my mind can repeat the words, I cannot sink teeth of my heart and soul into it.  I get so weary of not being competent to do as we are asked to do, such as to pray this prayer.  I used to be able to repeat such prayers, as in the first couple of years of my zealous phase of trying to perform all things Catholic and parish dutifully and as perfectly rote as possible.

Alas, I have lost that knack.  I am weary physically, mentally, emotionally--and somehow incapable of repeating what seems word-mash in my mind.  I cannot focus on so many words strung together by commas and ellipses.  I admire those who can, and who retain focus while doing so, for there is a power in uniting voices in any purposeful prayer.

So this week I have had to face my authentically imperfect hermit self.  My prayers remain mostly wordless yet often are images.  If I use mental words, they are spontaneous--along the lines of "Lord have mercy on my poor soul!"  Or I beg, "Please help me remain in Your love!"  Or also, "God bless" this or that person [sometimes name them but mostly see the person/s in my inner sight].  

More often, there is within me a beseeching (or soliciting!) of the Lord for help for our world and all people in it.  Then, the other night came a lucid dream which was horrifying in some aspects but contained all the reminder I needed.  I must pray for my dear departed mother, for I was shown I had neglected her--even lost track of where she is, finding her in a dark and old nursing home of sorts--all metaphor, you understand, for she is on the other side these past 12 years of our temporal time.

Yes, my conscious state had lost track of her.  In the night's mystical, subconscious dimension, I located her after much seeking. I yearned to talk with her but only was allowed to reach out and embrace her with more emotion and love than I can describe with words.  She was not able to speak, but I had tried to talk using words, all the same.  Now I am praying for my mother, thanking God for her in my life and asking Him to favor her with increasing light, reminding Him that she did her best in life out of love and good intentions, always.

And from that lucid dream I am reminded of my own life, and wonder if I am doing my best with love and good intentions.  The answer is no, I am not.  I've wasted thoughts with too many words; I've used recently inane comedy (creatively written and acted as it may be) to distract myself from pain and my physical surroundings rather than facing God in the darkness at night, God alone without sounds and visuals.

Distracting and enjoying comedy or fiction or whatever else creative and entertaining is not bad.  I repeat this as I've written that in a previous post.  But for me, it is not all that good.  It is not best.  I have been shown the spiritual realm and have been given graces to grow in spiritual ways. 

I've been told by the Holy Spirit in some amazing ways that I do not belong to that world, to the temporal--delightful as much of it is.  I am marked for other aspects, and my vocation as hermit and my life of suffering lends itself as vehicle of a mystic who is to help teach the spiritual that can help others to stabilize their emotions and souls...spiritually.

Thus, my prayer life has shifted.  It should be no surprise and also not a concern that the word prayers suggested by the temporal Church to be read-prayed cannot find meaning in my pained body and mind.  The Lord provides the prayers that erupt spontaneously from my heart and soul now.  And I must not have my mind distracted by much other or I will miss these prayers of the heart and prayers of the soul that come from His Real Presence more than from this creature I know as me.

Yesterday came a little instant message on my laptop from a young man I've not heard from in three or four years. I met him when our paths crossed in Avila, Spain, years ago, when we were part of a group of strangers who signed up for courses on Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross, on site where they lived and interfaced in the 16th century.

The young man, now married with children, asked me to pray that his little girl who is very sick, be healed and allowed to come home.  The few words alarmed me more to what must be a serious illness and dire situation than had he explained in depth.  The last we had contact, he and his wife had twin sons and then a third son.  

I knew of no daughters, but obviously this child must be a toddler or infant.  I asked the name and age but got no response and realized the Lord does not need me to know those minor details, nor of anything other.  When I responded that I am praying with much concern and love, and asked God to bless him, his wife, and their little girl, the young man responded with God's blessing and gratitude in return.

Once more, the Lord let me grasp the simplicity of prayer, at least in my current phase of praying, in my current desire to remain in His love and to have Christ's peace control my heart.  So while using up small pieces of tongue and groove boards to nail for slanted closet wall-ceiling, now and then my heart would pray for God to please have mercy on Michael, Kathleen and their little daughter.  "Heal her, Lord!"  "Be with them!"  "Let the little girl live!"

Sometimes the praying would not even be with these words, per se.  The praying floated somewhere between mind and heart, with images of Michael and Kathleen (whom I've not met)--and memories of Michael and wonderment at his life, for he has had trials upon trials with his own health, jobs, finding his life-wife, having children.

I also in words and not in words, asked the Lord to be there with them, wherever they are now.  More than asking, I was feeling the desires, the hopes, the anguish for, with, and in them--and of His Real Presence.  I marveled at how we met years ago when he was just out of college and I was post-middle age having just lost my last parent and my son nearly Michael's age.

I marveled how we reconnected when I went on retreat at a monastery to which his family's gentle-man farm abutted the monastery's 400 acres.  In fact, he invited me to his family's Thanksgiving; and later his mother queried him on how and why he met and knew me.  I suppose it must have seemed a bit strange, but in the Lord, such meetings of souls with missions of spiritual friendship and suffering are intended and with mystical purpose.

Remain in Christ's love and pray His peace control our hearts.  Pray for Christ's peace for all; pray all remain in His love.  If praying verbal words or reading written word prayers resonate deep within the soul or even if they make sense in the mind alone, that is prayer.  If praying with few words or with images, or with no words or no images but just a feeling or nothing, that is prayer as well.

I do think we progress in prayer, much as the Sulspicians (priest-monks of Order of St. Sulspice), and prayer seems to simplify.  The Sulspicians suggest the prayer of affection, of affect, such as in sighs and brief exclamations if any noise uttered at all--as a prayer that comes toward the end-zone of the way of illumination, leading into the way of union with God.

Yet it could be that prayer evolves and weaves in and out of our lives just as do the levels or degrees of Christ' peace controlling our hearts and our fluctuations toward greater and more profound remaining in His love.

My physical pain sickens me even with the thought to read or verbalize or think about the written prayer for peace, shared above.  Yet that does not mean that the prayer is not thoughtfully written and well-intended, and inclusive of many qualities and aspects good for peace among people.  But also, we do not need to force ourselves to read or verbalize or think the words of prayers, either.  

This morning, the sickening pain of low back radiating and the spinal headache say it all.  And my desire for Christ's peace to control my heart and to remain in His love are known without saying or asking or thinking or feeling.  And my love for the young man and his wife and children reside in my being, my soul, and expand to all families with children ill, and with children ill who have no biological parents tending them.  

And the peace and love extends to souls on the other side striving to fullness of light or perhaps in Christ's Light fully yet are reminding us that we are not quite up to snuff here.  Get up to snuff in peace, love, prayer of body, mind, heart, soul--any which way and all ways.

Catholic Hermit: Pain Severe

The pain is so severe this morning that it feels difficult to breathe.  Extremely fatigued so hard to have energy to breathe beyond little and not often.  Body is burning with quite a bit of pain, and am trying to consider that it is as "taking bullets" for souls--including this hermit's own soul!

It is not easy to have such faith, to have come upon a thought, a potential reality that is of the spiritual aspect.  A part of me would say it is not so, the aspects of suffering and of souls, of being what I rather humorously term being a "soulbuster."  Yet there is not much other explanation for the situations and souls I encounter, repeatedly, with the very good souls of much largesse and depth, sprinkled into the life experience.

Regardless, this level of pain is sapping whatever energy and strength I might otherwise possess.  There are so many tasks in here that I could attempt to accomplish, but the pain is blinding and binding.  Perhaps I can try to get off the mattress and heat up yesterday's left over coffee. There is always the option to take more medication; but that, at this level of pain, will not do much to help unless taking that which is given for extreme episodes to knock the body out, essentially.

What a life to lead!  If the pain can be turned around some, with the spirit and body and mind and heart on top of the pain rather than it on top of my being, I can begin work on cutting cement board to construct the shower niche recessed box.  Yet, on days like this one, in which the pain has sapped the body of energy and the eyelids keep drooping into a kind of autonomic dozing, an escape-mode from pain, I wonder if I will ever be able to maintain the efforts here.

Yes, the entire body is in a kind of burning sensation, and beneath the burning is raw, intractable pain. The feet are so painful--perhaps best to try to stand on them and see if that helps to push some pain out?  Rather sickening, really.  This is all part of this consecrated heart and soul's existence, daily life, spiritual being, Christian essence, hermit and suffering vocation, legacy:  so very much pain in so many aspects. 

Was this how Jesus felt when on the cross?  I believe so.  He existed on this earth as long as His body was able to function.  This is so for each of us, as well.

God bless His Real Presence in us!  Little children, let us love one another, for God Is Love!

Catholic Hermit: Severe Pain Siege

Dearest blog readers, this wearied, nothing, consecrated, Catholic hermit has been flat on the floor mattress with quite a severe pain siege.  Thus, all has ceased other than existing; and existing is quite a bit of something.

Pain is a powerful force. Pain wipes clean the memory.  Pain shuts down the more active bodily functions, including the ability to stand and walk, to prepare food to eat, to drink much or eat much or think much.  Pain becomes a prayer and thus is the prayer.  The body, influenced by severe pain, tends to automatically shut down enough to protect the body from having to do what will cause even more pain, thus the slow down in food and water intake.  

Since it is so painful to get up and walk, the appetite for food and water subsides; thus no need to eliminate bodily waste other than once in 24 hours.  There is no brushing of teeth or bathing, no ability to walk to the door if there would be anyone knocking; but of course there is no one there knocking.  

The hours and days come and go, and after a few days there is the beginning of thought that perhaps the next day, maybe the body can try to rise and be up for five minutes or so.  Then comes the questioning of if the body is going to be given its energy back ever.  

Thoughts begin to sort through life, screening backwards to choices made, noticing weaknesses in the will and forks in life's road along the way, and how God allowed free rein but also introduced major stop lights at certain juncture points when the will could not seem to make needful choices.

As the days and nights painfully progress, the pain lifts slightly, gradually, just enough to remember the great effort to empty the bucket even if cannot recall the day of that feat.  The mind recalls the body stood for more than four minutes to crush cranberries, an apple, an orange: food enough to eat on a couple times a day for a couple days.  Salted peanuts, a slice of cheese, some old, refrigerated, cooked rice microwaved with some curry sauce--these are the quick-grabs at odd hours.

The laptop remains the window to the outer world and source of communication.  A friend emails, asking if the hermit would like an "Ace" bandage mailed to wrap the injured hand?  No, cannot do work, cannot yet walk the short distance to mailbox. Thanks, though.  

Surely in a few days will be able to drive to civilization; am supposed to see the young grandson in a theater production.  That day comes, and while the body can rise to get more water and use the bucket more often, there is not the energy by a far stretch to even think of driving; but the hermit has been able to gather the mail.

The spiritual father has written.  The cherished letter is among a pile of junk mail.  Perhaps this ratio reflects the amount of junk thoughts and wasted God-time in our lives: mostly junk with a dab of rich quality hidden in the mound of moments.  Fr. V. emails, as well, and inquires as to Advent season, reports his preaching a retreat to high school students in his native Nigeria.

The mind is beginning to recollect above the pain.  A dream is recalled.  The Lord reveals through the images and performance that the body, mind, heart, and soul has not been accepting nor loving someone in the outer life, as himself.  Ah, it is truth!  Correction is needed.  It is not easy to live God's law is it?  We don't even realize, often enough, that we lack love right in our own inner circle.  

God deals with us directly when we are reduced and simplified.  Pain helps reduce and simplify.

By the sixth day of being "mattressed," the mind asks the Lord what is the purpose of this prolonged pain siege?  The reality surfaces that whatever physical, natural impetus triggering the pain siege would have been already rested and corrected.  What is the supernatural or spiritual reason? As with past pain sieges (of which none of this magnitude have been for months and months amidst the numerous short-term sieges), there is always a spiritual reason.

Advent.  Advent waiting. It is in patience in perseverance, that the soul shall possess itself, shall be saved.  These words of Jesus--verbage dependent upon which Biblical translation--give the answer.  The mind considers various here-and-now options.  Perhaps am not making the correct choice in continuing work efforts on this hermitage, trying to make it salable?  Perhaps am not doing with this life what it is the Lord wills and desires of it?  

Waiting.  Thoughts of John of the Cross and Bernard of Clairvaux float to the consciousness.  Am able to correspond with a couple of spiritual friends, physically far away but right here, now.  One brings news of a ridiculous occurrence in an aspect of the temporal Catholic world.  It is a laughable yet painful reminder of how far beyond we ought to be from such temporal foolishness.  There is also great sadness in the example, great irony. Try to let go the details.

Then a young woman calls on the phone.  There are the usual issues going on in her everyday life which continue to be tainted by her short past as well as issues of her own physical body, of infection and illness that interfere with energy, duties as wife and mother, and very much affect temperament and extended family relationships.  Anger, misspeaking, loss of emotional control pepper the past few weeks in her interactions.

I speak of the law of minds and the law of God--the royal law, the law that fulfills and supersedes all other laws.  Love God above all things and love others as oneself.  I mention the example of the foolishness of the sad-but-true story of the monsignor and his parish and the temporal Catholic world occurrence in which the priest once more tamps souls down to his level of love and personal dis-ease.  

We are all capable of hearing about, for example, Bernard of Clairvaux's Four Degrees of Love.  "What are they?' she asks?  The hermit, in the Advent moment able to think above the physical, bodily pain, explains each level and attempts to use simple examples from our current life choices.  

Yes, we humans are able to grasp such matters as degrees of love.  We are capable of being led to the higher levels--or at least of having them presented so that we are aware we can strive for greater degrees of spiritual maturity in God's royal law, in His Love.

You may be asking what are the degrees of love that Bernard, some ten or so centuries ago, wrote out with timeless examples.  He is not the first, of course, to do so.  The same loves surface in the earlier writings of the desert abbas and ammas.  They also exist in the Living Word, even if not listed in ordered fashion.  

The ultimate love is that of God in Himself.  The basic love is love of ourselves.  Yes, it is base to love ourselves; it is a starting point.  Then there is love of ourselves in relationship to others in pleasing others for what reward might come.  Then there is love of others and love of God for what rewards might come.  And again, the ultimate love is love of God in Himself--not for any other purpose.  Just love God as He Is, for Whom He Is, within Him.  Love God in Himself.

All other love unfolds and flows from within God Is Love.

The pain will subside to a point in which the mind can manage the pain rather than the pain ruling the body and mind.  The pain will not be removed from the body in this lifetime, not even with the strongest of pain medications other than if the body were to be medicated to a point of comatose condition.

This pain siege might last the duration of Advent.  But it seems that more likely the pain will be lifted enough for continuance of the manual labor efforts, when the mind, heart, and soul have learned what it is that the Lord wills to directly teach--through reminders from His Living Word, the writings of great spiritual minds and souls, the examples of current life experiences, the flaws of self and others, in dream images and in emails and happen-chance conversation.

Advent waiting can be quite painful!  Yet there is great good in pain, for sure.  There is much unknowing with pain.  We just never know if, when, or how it might lift enough to allow continuation of body, mind, and heart living.  But always we know the soul lives fully in the experience of pain.

God bless His Real Presence in us!  Little children, let us love God above all things and love others as ourselves!  Desire and reach for the highest degree of the Law of God, the Law of Love.