Christian Catholic Mystic Hermit: Hanging on to Christ in His Living Word, Trusting His Real Presence in All

 Reading this in wee hours of morn before dawn light.  So helpful. Was Gospel reading for Mass, yesterday.  I so need this, every word of hope and faith, reminder that God is taking care of everything.

This sinus infection really hit hard despite getting zpack at end of day four.  That has been taken and now a week nearly passed since the last dose.  But it is supposed to keep working ten days after.  Praise God!  I'm still too sick to do other than take the pup outside for her elimination needs.  Wiped out physically.  The past two weeks are a blur.

Someone did write needing help regarding what I'd term a house "infestation" of evil. Bad vibes, bad energies, whatever one wants to call it, her husband had much darkness in him, an abusive person who rejected Christ and was not good to wife nor children, long since out on their own.  He passed away, so he hopefully said "yes" to Jesus in his judgment, and is getting the help he refused while on earth.  This is my prayer and hope, anyway.  But as for that house where they lived all those years, it has all kinds of temporal problems as well.  I advised as have others to sell and let someone else tear down or do all the work to fix it to more livable conditions. As it is, mold was found, so that required much to be tossed, including their bed and dresser, which is for the best.  I gave my input which was asked of me, and now will pray she takes the advice as someone else also suggested unloading the property.  Nothing more for me to say or do in that situation, but gave her my own input of having been there one time and knew I'd never go back.  Darkness in that dwelling, bad vibes, not good and was from the husband, and perhaps could be also from in past, whoever lived there, four decades or more ago.  Ramshackle farmhouse.  Praying that she has the courage to detach from it and get out.  Start fresh.  

As for myself, I'm in over my head with this place plus the pup, just five months old now.  She's been amazingly good for no walks and just three or so times in the past two weeks of running with another dog named Angel. That dog's owner is not thrilled, but every so often I ask when he's out with his dog in common area, tossing a ball.  His dog runs into my yard hoping Mercy can come, so they get along very well; it's just the old man likes his routine of fetch with his dog and without other interference in his routine.  I understand, have empathy for that time of solitude with his dog and alone time.

I'm not sure if or when I'll get energy returned, and then likely need to crate the pup a bit longer than I have been in order to accomplish more manual labor.  My efforts have dropped to but a couple hours a day and not daily; and for two weeks nothing at all.  I'm not sure what I've had to eat other than some cheese-nip type crackers for a few days, and drinking vitamin C added to water bottle, trying to have plenty to drink.  Relapsed after last Wednesday thinking was better and had appt. at Home. Depot to put in another order including windows for main bathroom even though haven't gutted any of it yet, and will not until rest of place is finished.

God help me finish up here, this summer, next summer, if I'm still on this earth.  Then to get a place very small, no more renovating as means to earn money for potential nursing home, end of life care.  All these aspects are the concern of a hermit without savings other than modest amount parents left.  My slowly renovating with bits of manual labor and lots of prayer, has been a way to increase the base once the house is completed and sold. Next time I cannot reinvest with idea of renovating, but my base will go down too quickly by renting, since my body is not able to work for others.  People tend to want a room painted faster than two weeks, or right now, had I begun as I did the entry here, two weeks ago--then sickness struck so nothing more since; and no idea when next will be able to paint one wall or a portion of ceiling if bounded by borders, for one cannot stop mid-wall or mid-ceiling when painting.  Leaves a line that will bleed through.  

Thus, I simply must rely on God and His will for my body. 

That's actually how we all are, but those with a chronic disability and getting up in years, has the added reality to face of poor health and end-of-the-run, so to speak.  And this particular Gospel fills my mind, heart, and soul with hope, faith, and love necessary to keep going, to simply hang on and in that, to keep going in and by His Real Presence.

The Gospel of Matthew, 6:24-34

Jesus said to his disciples: "No one can serve two masters. He will either hate one and love the other, or be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and mammon.
Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat (or drink), or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing?
Look at the birds in the sky; they do not sow or reap, they gather nothing into barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are not you more important than they?
Can any of you by worrying add a single moment to your life-span?
Why are you anxious about clothes? Learn from the way the wild flowers grow. They do not work or spin.
But I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was clothed like one of them.
If God so clothes the grass of the field, which grows today and is thrown into the oven tomorrow, will he not much more provide for you, O you of little faith?
So do not worry and say, 'What are we to eat?' or 'What are we to drink?' or 'What are we to wear?'
All these things the pagans seek. Your heavenly Father knows that you need them all.
But seek first the kingdom (of God) and his righteousness, and all these things will be given you besides.
Do not worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will take care of itself. Sufficient for a day is its own evil."

Catholic Hermit: Nightmarish Illness a Lesson

Yesterday the throat and sinuses worsened, especially the throat. Fever rose although battery on thermometer did not work.  Could tell from severe headache and body aches, and the terrible sore throat--looked like strep although could not stand but a couple minutes to look in mirror: White splotches.

So I tried again with the doctors' clinic, begging to have an Azithromycin (Zpack) called to pharmacy.  They refused.  Said I had to come in.  I explained all over again as I had been for the previous two days, that I am too ill to come in.  It was not my fault that the doctor I saw on Monday morning neglected to write down my asking if I should have an antibiotic for sinus infection coming on nor mention I told her of my sore throat for two days--then.

A nurse was going to try to contact the doctor who only is there two days a month. I had suggested that perhaps the doctor would remember and could tell them, for the clinic folks continued to say that since it was not written in my chart, they could not call in the needed antibiotic.

Round and round we went.  I said would be ridiculous for me to have to take an ambulance just to get a z-pack; but the person at clinic said that would be what I'd have to do unless I'd get someone to bring me.  Again I explained that I cannot manage being up for more than two minutes and then must get back down; I would not make it from my place to the road to get into a car, nor from a car into their office.  I cannot risk falling due to the rods in my back.

The couple from the parish--the man--was willing to pick me up from clinic as I did find out from the Fire and Rescue Dept. that if I'd call 911 and they would dispatch them, they could take me to the doctors' clinic and not charge.  But I'd have to get a way back and get the z-pack from pharmacy.

The clinic said they would fit me into their schedule if I could come in.  The couple was leaving the area for the weekend later in the afternoon.  I called 911, and they put me through to their emergency nurse.  I had to go through the entire tale once more, and it is not easy for others to grasp that with the back issues and high level of pain, and with a sinus infection as well as now strep throat, I could not make it by car.  

The 911 nurse could not grasp and kept insisting I take a taxi; none here although she looked online and gave me a number.  I did not bother to tell her they no longer are in service.  A bus?  I explained again I could not stand up long enough to make it to a bus stop!  She said that I am able to get to the bathroom--yes, but that is 12 feet away from my sleeping bag on floor.  That's a short distance compared to farmhouse door to road.  

Anyway, it ended up that she did tell me Doxycycline would not help the throat but I needed a Zpack. Yes, I knew that, but it helped to have professional support on that fact.

While I was on the line with 911, the nurse from clinic had called.  I returned the call; she had not gotten any response from the doctor I'd seen on Monday. I said that I knew she would not for I had called the doctor's other office in another area, and the doctor was on vacation that day and hence.  I mentioned I had not answered the nurse's call as I was talking with the 911 emergency nurse, as the local Fire and Rescue operator and her supervisor thought I should call 911 to get an ambulance, be assessed and brought to the clinic that way.  Yes, extreme, but what could I do?

I explained again it was not my fault that the doctor had not written down half the reason I was there on Monday morning, and that the doctor had told me to wait a bit before an antibiotic.  So between perhaps the extreme I was going to have to take to get my body there, as I explained yet again I seriously cannot get out to a car, and the man willing to pick me up is older than I am, and I cannot make them responsible for trying to hold me up to get me into a car, nor at this point did I want to expose them to strep as it is very contagious.

So the nurse said she'd try one more thing. 

People were praying--friends in email and text contact.  The couple had left the area by this time but had agreed if I could get that zpack called in, they would try to find someone in the parish to pick it up and bring it to me--drop it off.  With 90 minutes remaining before pharmacy closed in the evening, a nurse practitioner called.  Once more I had to go through the entire saga, and she finally relented and said she'd call in the z-pack only if I'd make an appointment to come in on Monday to be seen.

(Evidently she was accepting that I would be better, that I truly needed that Zpack, perhaps after I'd said what the 911 emergency nurse had said.  We do have to have "authorities" backing us; what do we know, huh?)  While I reminded the NP at the clinic that they are closed on Monday, she then said Tuesday; turns out they don't have openings Tuesday but they said then Wednesday would be all right.  They'd call in the zpack.

By then less than an hour remained to get the needed medication.  Texting back and forth with the parish couple who were going to be out of cell service the next day, and they with a man named John, they said he could pick up the medication and bring it and for me to tell them when it was ready.  I'm not sure why they could not put John in contact with me, other than people are extremely cautious in these parts, and I have learned to be that way, also--but not with those I've known for over a year....

So from that one breakthrough with the clinic who agreed to call in a simple z-pack, all went smoothly.  The pharmacy has even started taking the Part D medication insurance I pay for, so what otherwise would have been an over-priced z-pack was inexpensive.  They got it ready immediately, another text sent to the couple with reminder to tell John to bring a flashlight as is quite dark on the property until one gets to a point of flood lights coming on.  And just before the pharmacy closed, and soon after, I had the z-pack.

Of course, I'm "sicker'n a dog" as my late dad often would say when we kids had something beyond the cold or light flu.  I considered just how chaotic and horrific was the ordeal of trying to get that medication in hand.  There is much I've left out, such as telling the clinic staff that I was documenting all and texting and emailing friends and family so that they'd have the information should something happen to me.  I pointed out that while the clinic kept justifying their not calling in that medication when Wednesday morning they said they would--saying my symptoms were not mentioned in the doctor's notes--that a judge and jury would think otherwise given my documentation.  More than that, of course, GOD KNOWS.

I also mentioned that the Fire and Rescue team were appalled at how the clinic was digging in their heels when I had explained reasonably, even if not typical scenario, that I truly could not physically get into the clinic by car, and that ambulance was not a sure thing although the Fire and Rescue people were so disgusted with the clinic that they assured me they would once 911 sent them the dispatch.

Yet despite all the finagling, God worked it all out in an instant once one Nurse Practitioner agreed to bend the rule, which the Fire and Rescue agreed has not always been the case at that clinic.  Regardless, they will get their money for an appointment as I don't mind going in once I am better and able, which I figure I will be by next Wednesday.

I marvel at the way God allowed this craziness to go on for three days, in which I grew steadily more ill.  And for all the effort I had to put out in just getting some help over something that would have easily been handled had the doctor been more thorough in note-taking.  And true, I was surprised as that doctor seems to be the brains and head-on-straight person in that clinic.

But once the persevering was done, and I and others had prayed and prayed, and I relinquished myself into God's hands and said I would simply have to accept whatever outcome in my health with the strep throat--God broke through the barrier and all else unfolded so easily, beautifully, and even better than I figured given the pharmacy having added my insurance plan.

I have since reflected about Lent, about how we must never give up until we have exhausted all avenues no matter how ridiculous or unnecessary or extreme.  We must relinquish ourselves to God once we've done all humanly possible, and accept whatever fate.  And we must accept the timing of God and the added suffering in the interim, for had I been given that Zpack on Wednesday, I'd not now be so sick.  

Last night I was able to be up under three minutes, long enough to put a cup of rice in a saucepan with a couple cups of boxed chicken stock, turn on stove, and collapse back down on the sleeping bag.  A half hour later I was up under two minutes putting some in a bowl and shoving the pan in the refrigerator, and back down on the floor. Legs are so shaky and am so nauseated, that the effort to get up is taxing.

I had texted the couple, also, to see if they knew of anyone in the parish who perhaps would be willing to drop off some bananas or soup from a store deli, but that was too much to suggest, I realize.  Yes, people are cautious, and I realized that people who are highly scheduled people think in terms of others being likewise, and that others would have their schedules full and would not be able to fit in an added purchase and drop off.

And likewise, those who are not scheduled people probably assume that others are not scheduled, and thus have no set plans and can do and go without much difficulty in arrangements.

And, I also considered that I still have two grapefruit in here, although my stomach not yet up for them, and I have yet this last box of the chicken stock with the rice, and if I can gain enough strength in time to be able to make it as far as pole barn and back, I can get a loaf of grain bread from the freezer and eat that with peanut butter.  And I have some frozen Edamame that can be microwaved, and in the fridge freezer, once my throat can swallow that.

God provides. I will make do with gratitude and trust.  Again what would traditional hermits of yore do in such circumstances?  Well, not lean unto their own understanding, and cast their cares upon the Lord.

So that is what I must do, hope i have done, and plan to do going forward.  And to take to heart today's Gospel reading in which Jesus points out that the healthy do not need a physician, but the sick do.  Jesus is the great Physician, and I am sick of and with sins and sick in body as well.  So He's the One to turn to, in prayer and thanksgiving!  And I will wait with the Lord here until healthier days come.

God did allow the devil to push and push for three days with that clinic staff, but God prevailed in the final hour.  And God's prevailing is really all that matters when all is said and done.

Note:  A quite practical lesson I have learned and will carry forth for my earthly days remaining:  Never leave a doctor's office until assured the doctor has made note in medical records of all symptoms discussed. 

Hermit's Lent Never Dull: Sharp & Painful!

Merciful Heavens!  Allowing God to have full reign in all plans for Lent brings forth the unexpected each day, each hour, each moment.

It has become scorchingly painful for this Nothing Consecrated, Catholic Hermit!  [Am capitalizing each of the previous four words because each has emphasis and totality of meaning, thought, truth that can stand alone.]

It has been so painful that I have not written for awhile.  I have not been able to call the handful of contacts; emotions have been excoriating.  Physical pain has been burning and exhausting.

"The Lord gives, the Lord takes away.  Blessed be the Name of the Lord!"  These words attributed to the prophet Job, with their obvious meaning, I have uttered aloud repeatedly in the silence of solitude in Te Deum Hermitage. And there have been times of great grieving, of sobbing, of calling out to His Real Presence the sorrows of leave-taking and the (faithless) pressure of total unknowns going forward.

He is pruning my branches in ways I had considered in advance; but the pain of adapting and adjusting to the immediate, effective pruning has leveled me as much as physical pain can also reduce.

The son-in-law got a job elsewhere.  He, his wife, their young son will be leaving in two weeks.  The details of the job offer are such that it is more than obvious the Lord has blessed them mightily; and the son-in-law did need a job after four months of his being let go from previous employment.  In that I am praising God for the good fortune and His making clear the path for their move.

However, before this hermit agreed three years ago to move to live closer to them, the conversation took place: What happens if he gets another job?  With giving up so much from whence I came, going to a place where I knew no one and would have increased risks, I felt I needed an answer.  With my health as it is I said I could not follow them around the country; but my vulnerability, also, health-wise, makes it best that I have some contact, some support system. (Or thus, at the time, we agreed.)

The daughter assured they would remain in this area, would apply for jobs in this area.  They had lived here a year and loved it...then.  But things change, and what the Psalmist advises is so very, very true even if our hearts and minds want to think that those closest to us will not renege on promises made. 

 "Trust not in princes, trust not in men; trust only in the Lord Thy God." 

So it has come to pass that they wanted to leave the area after nearly four years, and the bulk of job applications were elsewhere.  When a finger-count of interviews were in this area, the complaint arose from the daughter, "Why is he even applying here when we want to move away?"

Regardless of all the tangibles and temporal aspects, there is NO way that I cannot view the timing, their house selling and closing, the generous conditions of the job offer--as anything less than the blessing of Divine Will.

And that leaves this Nothing Consecrated Catholic Hermit more stripped than ever in its life.  Ever.  And, in the mail came three enveloping disappointments of financial, further demise.  It nearly is too much to bear.  Nearly.

I have no idea how I will fare.  I have been trying to continue on with working on this hermitage, hoping to get it salable before I totally run out of funds or the body gives out.  There is no one I can turn to in the human race.  The bodily pain levels preclude outside employment.  I'm fortunate to be able to do an hour or two or three here and there--but not when the weather shifts, causing worse pain.

I turn to His Living Word.  This morning's first Mass reading from Isaiah offers these truths--impactful, powerful, hopeful, intriguing:

"Remember not the events of the past,
the things of long ago consider not,
see, I am doing something new!
Now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?"

I turn to His Real Presence, the Virgin Mary, my angel Beth, those who love me from the other side.  There is no one else, no place, no remedy of the temporal or tangible, that I know of.  

This afternoon while trying to drywall mud a slanted ceiling, a sloppy glop of mud fell into an opened right eye.  The blinding PAIN!  The painful BURNING!  Tears helped some. By the grace of God I remembered a bottle of water within reach, for the only other water source was down the ladder and into the kitchen (no stairs, yet).   The eye will heal, the effects of drywall mud will wash out over time.  Already I can see a blurry view from it, thankfully so.

It reminds me of Jesus our Lord mixing His spittle with dirt and dabbing it onto the blind man's eyes.  Is He doing likewise with me?  Will I henceforth see more clearly the path ahead, the outer and inner, my soul and the souls of others, His Divine Will, God's Face?

The electrical power here was out for several hours.  But thanks be to God, it has returned before darkness and night's dropping temps.  This is a hermit's desert life: the silence of solitude, the sacrifice of praise amidst a plenitude of penance.  

Lent is progressing for this hermit who definitely did not need to write out any self-conjured plans ahead of time.  There is more than enough present moment penance.  God procures the best and perfect shake-down and take-down, dust to dust, ashes to ashes!

God bless His Real Presence in us!  Little children, let us love God above all things and one another as our selves. God bless Lent!