What He Hath Done with Us

"See then what he hath done with us, and with fear and trembling give ye glory to Him: and extol the eternal King of worlds in your works....Give glory to the Lord for thy good things and bless the God eternal, that He may rebuild His tabernacle in thee...and thou mayest rejoice for an ever and ever....Blessed are all they that love Thee, and that rejoice in Thy peace. (Tobias 13: 6, 12, 18).

An adult daughter just called, asked: "Are you alive?"

Yesterday nothing Catholic hermit went to noon Mass. Beth nudged it forth, thankfully, and reminded it to wear in fabric, flowers for the Bishop's birthday, and to be there as a sacrifice of praise. The major intention came prior, about at 5:15 a.m.

The phone rang, and nothing could not get its body up in time, and couldn't quite tell who had called on its caller ID. The cell phone has terminal melanoma. A little black spot appeared three weeks ago, and it has grown rapidly, covering most of the screen. But nothing could make out two letters, and then knew, for this person had been in nothing's prayers ever since the person e-mailed that it was best not to correspond further, that we had taken each other spiritually as far as we could.

But nothing knew that there were other reasons, for this dear soul suffers from paranoid schizophrenia and has declined in the past year. There was nothing more to be done but to pray and await the day--and this was the day--that she would agree to go to the hospital. So she said that, when nothing immediately returned the call. Yes, she realized it was the best thing, as she explained what remains fixed in her mind of an extreme delusion. She realized (or her spouse or adult children helped her) that based upon the situation that she thinks is a reality, that she cannot combat this other person in the delusion (and all along believes the delusion is reality.) It gets complicated, and nothing learned a year ago to not question the delusions, for that brings on outbursts.

She told nothing thanks for getting her to read St. Francis de Sales, and for being her friend, and nothing assured her she was doing the right thing and all will be better for the courageous step in going to the hospital. And it is a courageous step. One might ask why she has not agreed to go sooner. The last time there were seven shock treatments, that's why, and yucky, sedating medications, and the humiliation of being a mental patient.

Nothing said it would pray for her, and it loves her, and the other expressed similar. And then nothing returned to its prayers in the early morning hours, and was in awe as to how the Lord brings souls known and unknown to be prayed for, to be loved, to suffer for. It also was amazed that this woman had found a simple encouragement to read St. Francis de Sales to be such a powerful grip-hold in the terrors of the days and nights of her illness.

So nothing thanked the Lord and praised Him that she is going to receive treatment, and anguished all morning in some respects, at what this dear soul was going to have to endure. And that is why nothing decided, in physical, urpy pain or not, that noon Mass was for the friend in need. Driving, ice pack in place, nothing thought at first of St. Jane Frances de Chantal to help this friend, for she and St. Francis are a dynamic duo. Nothing had given this woman a relic each of the saints, from the Visitation in Annecy. But then nothing thought that since the friend had specifically mentioned the readings of St. Francis, that it would invoke him to look over her all the while she is in the hospital. And then it said, "Oh, both of you, PLEASE and THANK YOU!"

At Mass, with our dear Bishop praying the opening prayer, he reminded us that it is the feast day of St. Jane Frances de Chantal! Ahhh! The Lord is so exquisite and just downright FUN. Nothing was assured in that detail that the soul in such suffering is going to be assisted, and much of that no doubt comes from her turning to Him during the decline of her mind from this huge, holy cross of schizophrenia.

Nothing was very ill with pain during Mass, and the ice pack was used on back, heart and head. The Bishop reminded us to give all our possessions, whatever holds us back from following God, whatever of the culture or other attachments. Nothing thought of its pain (hard to get the mind off it when it is screaming for attention), and it repeated the prayer: "Crucify me once and for all, Lord, if it be Thy will, and I am ready to die if that is Your will. If You want me to remain at home and never be able to return to Mass, I will accept--as long as it is Your will. Whatever You want." Nothing gave the Lord, once more, the pain.

After Mass, it told its confessor that it was being besieged day and night, from all levels, and didn't know if it could or was supposed to get out to Mass, as it all seemed too much pain. The Bishop, then, spoke to nothing, and asked for prayers and said he will pray for nothing. Nothing said it was not sure it could keep coming to Mass, and he said maybe for a short time; and nothing said it is afraid that if it does not keep coming, that it will never be able to return and then will be defeated. Yet is is very difficult to come. But doesn't think it could endure without the Eucharist. Bad nothing forgot to verbalize 'Happy Birthday' but did bend (Dear God in Heaven; ouch!) to kiss his ring."

And these sentiments were later left as a message to the confessor, for nothing had settled into bed, oozy-goozy sick with suffering, and trying hard to keep all prayer intentions at some kind of conscious level, and to be generous with whatever the Lord desired of it in this state--when the phone rang.

It was an elderly woman, long time connection from a nearby town, and the elderly husband was being brought by ambulance to a hospital near where nothing lives. And she needed nothing. Oh yes, she needed nothing, and asked if nothing was doing anything. "Oh no, not at all, and I'll be there when the ambulance arrives, and you are to ride with the ambulance and not attempt to drive, and I will be praying and this is all going to be all right. Do not worry."

So nothing left the message with the confessor, as it felt so sick with suffering, and also mentioned the previous night's work, which is yet another facet of suffering, and that now, somehow, the body had to get to the ER for this elderly couple needed nothing, and then repeated, "I have no idea what the Lord is doing with me. It is all beyond me. It is all beyond me."

Nothing made it to the hospital, and could not take an icepack because it could not risk the elderly couple even suspecting there was an ounce of suffering. And the situation got resolved, and calm restored, and even a huge grin on the elderly man's face as he was wheeled out for the return drive. Took about four hours to rectify what could have been a terrible ordeal for them. Praise God for the ER doctor and nurse! And praise God that nothing's body got there, and for the good conversation with the elderly woman.

Yes, nothing has been quite touched by the Sat. evening Mass homily. We were told that it isn't a matter of not sharing all aspects of our faith with others who are not Catholic or not good Catholics, but of sharing even one aspect. We must not give up or be discouraged, just because there seems little progress in some cases.

This elderly couple is Protestant. But we had a good, spiritual talk. And from the last medical call for help and encounter, nothing was shown progress--in each of our souls! The woman knows now a Catholic perspective on suffering, even if the C-word is not used, and of how God answers prayers in His own amazing ways, and a couple of things St. Dorotheos of Gaza advises, too! Nothing also had a good interior chuckle when the woman asked if nothing was going to find just the right person to marry, that not all are like what nothing had experienced--and added, "Of course it could be a nice Catholic person!" Nothing held up the Crucifix it wears, and the woman smiled and said, "Well, I guess you've found the right one." "Yes," nothing replied, "can't get better than perfect!"

(My Lord, where is nothing in all this writing except needing another ice pack?)

Anyway, nothing got its pain-sick body back to Agnus Dei and collapsed, but realized that love supersedes pain, and that it is true that all this is beyond nothing's comprehension. As was read in Ezekiel this morning, we are not God. Nothing is a no-nothing in what is going on with this day or yesterday or tomorrow. Just suffer it, and suffer it for all kinds of souls.

"But thou shalt rejoice in thy children, because they shall all be blessed, and shall be gathered together to the Lord. (Tobias 13:17).

[The photo is of a purple angelica. (Sorry, too tuckered to go out and retrieve the official var. from the plant tag and also apologize for the shadow.) Nothing posts it with this blog because of a comment left in which the person might make the connection in the name. Shared with nothing extremely good news of the person's having found the path the Lord wills for its hermit vocation! "Blessed are all they that love Thee, and that rejoice in Thy peace." Sounds like as close as one could find outside Chartreuse--in daily horarium, adoration, the silence, solitude, prayer and penance.

Am praying for you and envisioning you in that heavenly area of the country. Thank you for your prayers for all God's children, for we all do need prayers. And thank you for praying for nothing's intentions, now and then. Even when difficult decisions are made, God brings such good, for the Body of Christ becomes aware of the needs, and prays. "See then, what He hath done with us?"]