Finally was able to reach the spiritual father. Reported what occurred at this past Mass. He said to not at all go back. He said to not try to talk to or help the priest, for he said it will do not good. He said to not try to talk to the vicar general at the diocese, for a couple others of which the hermit is aware have approached to no avail.
The plan was for the hermit to go to a parish in which the priest is solid and healthy and able to function well with parishioners and to celebrate holy Mass unimpeded. The hermit checked the map, and the drive is too far; the hermit's back cannot take that. For awhile now, the left hip becomes extremely painful and remains so for days after driving an hour. To have to go nearly two hours each way and also sit during Mass, is too much, physically.
So, the Lord will be this nothing consecrated Catholic hermit's "portion and cup." Solus Deus. This is how it must be for now. Exile. It is all right.
Awoke the other night quite ill. Sickness had come to this body; and the body felt it, the mind knew it. Mostly these illnesses go into the lungs sooner or later and require antibiotics. But, the hermit is trying over the counter remedies on hand and drinking lots of hot tea. God provides.
With whatever energy can be mustered, the exterior painting continues. Yesterday, the hermit finished caulking around a section of porch siding. There are always obstacles. Had to stop many times to rest the body, of course, and then also had to remedy some glitches such as an opening under the eaves in which birds could get in the space between porch ceiling and roof. In another spot, a small piece of wood needed to be sawed and fitted to cover over where there was a small opening of weakened, old, wood facia.
There is no sense in just waiting for the illness to worse but rather to remain positive and do even an hour of some sort of labor while praying, and to pray while laboring. Prayers for the priest seem to take priority ever since Sunday morning Mass. This illness is offered for him, and in some ways, the horror of what others evidently could not sense, depleted this body's reserves and resilience. The body is a sacrifice of praise for the priest.
For now and into whatever days and weeks and months the Lord allows energy and improved health, the hermit will continue to try to finish this hermitage, get it salable, and then move on wherever the Lord has a place for the hermit to come to roost. Hopefully, there will be a holy monastery nearby, or a small parish with a priest after the Lord's own heart, where the hermit can come and go anonymously, as much as feasible, and be subsumed into the Mass.
If that is not in this consecrated Catholic hermit's future, the hermit will accept in faith and trust and love. It all--all aspects of our life both temporal and spiritual--have to be in the Lord's will and choosing. Over time, the discernment process sorts what is His will and what is not.
While it would be quite easy to judge the current situation by those who do not experience--and difficult enough for this hermit to describe it. The time alone with His Real Presence and the spiritual communions, the heartfelt acts of contrition, the prayers for forgiveness such as offered the other afternoon while crunched up under an eave, trying to paint and also keep from sliding off the steep porch roof--it is blessed time spent solus Deus.
One can only do what one can do, follow the guidance of one's spiritual father, yield to physical obstacles that are not prudent to breach, and simply trust in the Lord even when situations seem not as one would think in temporal Catholic world considerations. In such circumstances, we have to go on faith, on hope that is unseen, praying for the gifts of knowledge, counsel, understanding, and wisdom--four of the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit and also considered to be the intellectual gifts.
"Here I am, Lord, I have come to do Your will." What better prayer at a time like this?
God bless His Real Presence in us!
