A Nothing Catholic Hermit Lies to Its Confessor

Forgot to mention that yesterday, the confessor calmly towered some inches above nothing as its something painful spine had to stand for confession in a small area off the sacristy. In his meek, gentle, but firm way, the confessor hazily peered into nothing's orbs and upon its face and said, "Only one Mass a day."

Nothing Catholic hermit glibly explained that's all it goes to now--since nothing has its hermitage, but that before, a couple years ago, went to more since it was just sort of wandering.

Then a few hours later nothing realized it still goes to two Masses on Saturday, but they seem to be on two different days since not the same Scriptures, as one is the vigil Mass for Sunday (if that is what it is called). So it left a message to the confessor, on his voicemail, apologizing for lying--and asking if this exception is all right due to the differences. And then after hanging up realized it has been asked to lector on an early Sunday Mass, once a month, and on those Sundays there will be two Masses, also, due to nothing's little task at a later Mass.

Nothing thought not much more about being told it can only go to one Mass a day (even forgot to mention it to the spiritual da) until this morning, quite early. Then, oh my, it realized with horror it had lied even worse! Just a month or so ago nothing was going to the early Mass, and then simply staying put for the next Mass. And that had been going on for awhile.

During today's morning Mass, the impact of only being able to go to one Mass per day began to waiver. And nothing said interiorly, as it often does, that it's been through worse. It thought of the very first priest in nothing's 13-year-Catholic- existence as this Queenship of Mary. One day in confession he had ordered nothing to stop praying. Yes. And nothing later broke down during the Mass that followed confession, and became a bit hysterical in a totally silent way. It couldn't help the interior agony of knowing it would have to stop praying, and then being torn in two, for this would be an impossibility. After Mass, the priest told an elderly couple who were going to drive nothing home (in quite a state)--told them to go and he would handle "this." And he rather gruffly asked nothing what was going on, and nothing said, and so he said maybe he'd made a mistake and nothing could keep on praying.

But this is different this time. Nothing's interior did not go into any extreme upset, but rather the waivering reality fell with a necessary, intended thud. So nothing thought about only being able to go to one Mass a day. The thud made a sound that said, "But you cannot come back again today, not even on your 13th anniversary of being a Catholic!" And nothing thought back, "So will have to appreciate every moment of this Mass".

But still the thud resounded, and nothing knew it's contact with the temporal Catholic world, at the point it meets the mystical Catholic world, had been further curtailed, down to the last limit. A sacramental limit placed beside the bodily limit of pain. So nothing thanked the Lord for this gift of just one Mass per day, now a directive that must be obeyed. And it offered the thud that said "loss", and nothing realized that this gift is a gain, from the confessor, who is from God, and that God wants nothing to know in even more depth (as in looking up from below on the situation), that nothing is now even more removed from the temporal Catholic world.

Only once a day will it hear the Word being spoken and see the Word being immolated, and receive the Word in both forms. Only once a day will it see and be surrounded by the temporal Catholic bodies sitting in the pew, kneeling, and standing to pray, listen, sing, respond, and receive Jesus.

And only once a day will nothing be tempted by distractions, like the 70's-something woman the other day who wore a long dress with slits up the side (as the da remarked, "up to the arse"). And then sat down and put her feet up on the kneeler, so that her old, pale, dimpled legs could be seen all the way (yes Da) up to her old, wrinkly arse. (The da also said that women are beautiful creatures, and nurturing, but he's never seen so many ugly-looking legs on women who should be very much covering them.)

And sometime during this other world communication at Mass, while listening to two levels at once, nothing realized that in this great gift given by the confessor, from God, nothing has come to understand a better way to communicate the worlds of the Church. There is the temporal Catholic world and there is the mystical Catholic world. And nothing now will only intersect the temporal Catholic world once a day at Mass and once a week at confession.

It also realizes why the religious sister who the confessor had once mentioned would never speak of her pain--that Sr. X is in the temporal Catholic world, as is the confessor and the Bishop; and that is where they are being sanctified and already seem very saintly. But nothing is being shown by God and His TCW designees and by HIs MCW loving touches of pain, that nothing is not in the temporal world of the Church except by a quark, and even that quark is not exclusively temporal Catholic but also mystical Catholic, since it is both Divine and incarnate through the Mass and the Sacraments.

The Mass, truly, other than for the temporal distractions that intrude so rudely now and then, is of the mystical Catholic world, but it touches onto the physical plane and helps materialize and manifest for the temporal Catholic world. And so it is a good gift for nothing, all this. And such a gift on the Queenship of Mary, the 13th anniversary of nothing's confirmation, and the 24th anniversary of the car accident (and these latter within minutes of each other, 11 years apart.)

Today, nothing will not float back for the TCW noon Mass; and maybe it wouldn't have, anyway, but not it CANNOT. And maybe it would have, since today is so special. But it is all the more special now, for nothing realizes that while the da yesterday said nothing is going to be all right, that might be in some sense of the mystical Catholic world, and not the temporal Catholic world. And Anastasia of the south of France and all that weird, harrowing experience, was right, too, amidst some of her wrongness: It is going to be painful when some of these aspects are taken away or sent on their way.

Sr. X doesn't mention a peep about any spot in which she has pain, for holy, temporal Catholic world Catholics shine out as admirable, saintly, stoic souls that they are. But Catholics in the mystical Catholic world are out of sync with the temporal Catholic world Catholics. MCW Catholics might slip and peep or even squawk about some ache or pain to someone. However, that might be rare only because they learn to not talk much with the TCW's other than pleasantries. And if they do talk about a pain or two, or of googleplexes of pain, the TCW Catholics don't think much of it, for the MCW Catholics fleetingly float in to Mass once a day and back out, and only a TCW soul or two who might notice the pain seeping, and might ask; and the MCM might admit or not. Then the TCW Catholics and the MCW Catholics are off, into their different worlds within the universal Catholic World.

And that is why the confessor thought it very good when nothing said it was going to do all it could to to not let anyone at Mass or outside notice that it is suffering. Yes, he said that was a good way for nothing to handle that. Remember, nothing, the box and the necessity of the TCW holy soul priests must keep the TCW souls settled. An MCW Catholic can do a few things that it learned in its TCW awareness. Best to cooperate, to float in and not be noticed as existing elsewhere, to be as nothing.

It is now, for nothing, down to Mystical Catholic World work and play; and nothing offered its entering into Jesus' Body and Blood at the one-Mass-only-for-today. It offered this greatest of connections of mystical Catholic world Catholic into Mystical World Christ offering Himself to the Catholic world temporals and whatevers. Nothing offered it for its earthly mother, somewhere out there, and begged Jesus to allow the Queen Mother, the Queen of Heaven and Earth and His mama, to please take nothing's earthly mother's soul into the Light of Heaven.

Yes, am still working on that, even though the earthly mother said quite awhile ago, disparagingly, "Oh, it's o.k., [name she gave nothing at birth]." But nothing replied across the MCW wireless system, "No it isn't, Mom, and I'm going to do all I can for you to get into Heaven."

Nothing knows that on special days in the temporal Catholic Church world, events occur in the mystical Catholic Church world, that are unseen and unknown to the temporals. Today and on other of her special days, the Queen of Heaven and Earth (and of all worlds) takes selected souls from purgatory (with St. Michael assisting) into Heaven. Another plug for mom, at the one-and-only temporal Catholic world Mass today, for nothing.

And nothing did leave yet another voicemail for the confessor apologizing for yet the worse lie, not meaning to, but thanking him for this gift which enhances the lesson being learned in this glorious death--a kind of crucifixion reflecting the one 24 years ago, and in a way, also, the one 13 years ago. Nothing will only go to one temporal Catholic Church world Mass per day.

But there can be many, many mystical Catholic world Masses today and every day--and night, too--for nothing and for anyones. Already nothing is making offerings, for it took a hose and filled its sprinkling can, and carried it with temporal world pain superseded by mystical world joy, to the Ashfeld Weeper Hemlock. Nothing respectfully watered the weeping tree's earthen root bed, where the visible meets what is hidden beneath, not wasting a drop.

[The hemlock "Ashfeld Weeper" is recently planted on the edge of the Our Lady of Fatima Memorial Rose Garden, at the juncture point with the Mary Gardens that tier to Lake Immaculata. Sort of a cross-over or turning point. The conversation bench is for the Queen of Heaven and Earth, and her Son. Do you see them sitting on it, one facing one way, the other the other way, heads leaning in quiet conversation, each to the other? Perhaps they ask "Is this nothing child--are any of the children--going to comprehend and now accept?" But, of course, the two on the bench know. Jesus knows, and He whispers all to His mother, the one who also stands on the Stairway to Heaven, reaching out her hand to those who agree to leave off one level for another.]