Yet Another Nothing

Nothing Catholic hermit has discovered yet another nothing. She is Marie-Anne Herve, aka Marie of the Lamb of God.

Her motto is: Nihil sum. I am nothing.

More, later, on this victim soul in the other blog. Also, more, later, on mottoes.

But as a point of introduction, she had a rule of life and motto at an early age, and she died young, with much suffering. She is not a hermit, other than the aloneness that suffering merits.

And she was a styrofoam peanut soul. She was one that was chosen to be bagged while still alive, and to have a mission that took her out of and away (in essence), from the other styrofoam peanut souls who needed to remain in the box until God deemed otherwise for them, too.

So this brings up, again, the point nothing was trying to make about styrofoam peanut souls, and the world of the Church, and other worlds, and missions within those worlds.

Well, Jesus says there is a mansion with many rooms. Today He says in the Gospel reading, that many are invited but few are chosen. There are many styrofoam peanut souls, and they are all desired in attendance of God; but only a few are chosen, at a time, we could say, and who are agreeable to be ready, to be prepared, for the mission in whatever mission field God places them, in whatever wedding feast, or table therein, or room in the mansion.

Now, the world of the Church. Nothing means by this that the Church is even more than just a world, but a universe. If our secular world had agreed to be grounded in the Church, then what a world it would be! Just think if the governments of societies had chosen the Catechism of the Catholic Church as constitutions.... And more, what if the citizens had lived these out in solidarity?

And more, what if Catholics lived the Catechism out, in solidarity?

But, back to the world of the Church. Nothing means that there is the Church, and then there is the world of the Church, and even in that, truly, there are various continents and so forth. The world of the Church is very necessary, as most styrofoam peanut souls need guidance in that kind of worldship. So there is needed the Church leaders, or Fathers, and canon laws and tradition and liturgical norms and doctrines and theologians and missions and apostolic works, and religious orders and movements and sodalities. On and on. It is a world. Necessary and good.

And our parish priests and bishops must live and function in that world, even if they might prefer at times, in a fleeting glance, to see themselves in another world. And this is a world in the universe of the Church, but not the same world as that of governance and guidance of most styrofoam peanut souls. This is a way out there world, or way in there--probably more way in there. It is sort of like a double helix spiraling upward or inward--these worlds kind of rotating within the Catholic universe.

Yes, there is the Church, and there is the world of the Church, and there is the world of the styrofoam peanut mystic souls. And these souls are like chickens that the farmer has tagged, or maybe they are the runts, and the other chickens in the barnyard sense something is different about them, and if they are kept in the same coop, they likely get pecked, and sometimes pecked to death. So the farmer has to bag them and place them in a separate coop, by themselves. Sometimes they are sickly and die young, and sometimes they grow old and are wiry and toughened on the outside, having had to survive without the group and at some level knowing they are odd-chickens-out.

Maybe it can be said that there are active and contemplative styrofoam peanut souls? But there are still the clerics, and so this designation doesn't work as well as the Catholic universe and the Catholic worlds, and within that the continents and countries, and the oceans. Perhaps going on that train chugs the mystic chickens into the sea, for they have to learn to float or sink. Coaches can give pointers on how to float, and even hold a body afloat for awhile, but the one learning must learn to float at some point, by the grace of God, alone with God.

So, it isn't that any world is better or worse than another, or that land or sea have preference. They are just different, composed of different elements, and functions, and land is known in physics to be more solid than water.... Styrofoam peanut souls in the box with loads of others styrofoam peanut souls have a different existence than those that are bagged and dispensed for other existences and functions. And again, those that go out on their own, off in the wind this way or that, rejecting the box or the tagging and bagging, are gone, gone, gone.

They are not part of the bridal party, nor the guests who come dressed properly and prepared for the wedding. They are thrown out of the banquet hall. They are out by their own undoing.

Nothing is feeling much better. It understands that its bishop, confessor and spiritual da do understand, without their having the answers. And, nothing must not bother them with too many questions, for they are commissioned by God to be in that box trying to deal with all those souls who are in there, in that Catholic world within the Catholic universe. And nothing is in that Catholic universe, and in that Catholic world, in essence, but less and less in senses, and perhaps not, for it is more and more in the other world, the ocean, the little cage set aside by the farmer for the odd-chickens-out. But yet chicken, all the same, as one of all chickens.

It tried to explain to its confessor that it realizes that they do not understand, in the sense of having answers about what is going on, as nothing shared some of this episode of intense suffering, and that it can only sense that the Lord is trying to answer nothing's prayer. (Nothing had prayed to God, asking if He would show nothing any ways in which nothing was not living the hermit and victim soul vocations as God wills and desires of nothing.) But the confessor showed in words and in his ambiance, that he does understand, or in some way he exhibited this ability to understand, but that we cannot know the ways of God. We do not know what exactly God has in Mind in this or much of anything in our lives. It is beyond us.

But nothing was able to explain other manifestations, and to tell of the suffering, and that maybe the suffering is in part, besides for others, a suffering for nothing's sins. But the confessor made clear that God does not make us suffer because we are sinful. (We suffer temporal and spiritual consequences of our sins.) Nothing thought that maybe God was displeased with its writing, and that it had caused scandal to the Catholic Church.

And to that, the confessor assured nothing it had not scandalized the Church as a mortal sin, and if there was anything in the writings at all, that at most it would be a venial sin, for nothing had no knowledge of or intention of causing scandal. So he said he would give absolution in order to bring nothing peace of mind about it.

Then he said that not everyone is going to like or agree with what nothing writes. Some will, and some won't. He said Abraham Lincoln made a comment regarding this truth of human nature.

Other things were expressed, including that nothing is less and less in this world and more and more in the other. That is all right, for we just have to wait and see how the Lord bags us and dispenses us for whatever mission He has need and use. It is all right.

And in a way, a very good way, nothing sees that the clerics, the holy ones who are called and chosen, are kind of like styrofoam peanut souls who hover at the top of the box full of styrofoam peanut souls and assist with those souls as well as with the souls being drawn out of the box--either to be bagged singly or in small handfuls for work yet while in bodily form, but in the other world, or to be bagged and dispensed into purgatory, or to try to catch the souls flying off, out and gone by their own wills against God, or to help bring into the box those new styrofoam peanut souls, being poured in.

Some of those priest souls might not hover so well on the top, but they are ordained to be right up there. Free will is like the wind (or the hand) that can reach in and stir up the styrofoam peanuts, and the stirring can be good or can be cause for disruption of the good, in any soul.

Now, the spiritual da has called, for nothing left a message last night, when the pain had increased. It might not be able to drive to visit him, but will see how it feels. So the da said, "You'd better not come. You'd better not try it." But nothing said it had gone to confession and had also had some understandings, and was using ice packs and maybe ought to try to get there, for it always does nothing good to talk things over with the da. But it will see how the morning progresses. Yes, we shall see.

Nothing does see little signs of hope of recovery. It is amazing how alert the confessor is to much more. Yes, he and the da are right up there on top of things. Holy presences. What priests can be and become, if they desire and choose to cooperate within God's will--to be called, chosen, to be of the few. And all souls can desire and cooperate, to answer the call in such a way that God knows they are willing to do anything at all to be prepared, to be chosen.

To think one has caused scandal to that which it loves more than anything else in the world, the world of the Church, to have scandalized the Catholic Church--that is quite a suffering. To have the soul put to rest, is quite a relief. As for the remaining sufferings, and the unknowns of any given dying, we just don't know until God sheds light on the matter. We rest in His Heart, in the comforting dark, like a child curling up under its blankie.

As for whether or not nothing will improve enough to maintain the hermitage, only God knows. It told its confessor that if it does not get better this time, that it will need to donate the hermitage and find a small room to rent. And that is well and good for nothing. Probably the attitude the yet other nothing adopted, (Nihil sum), and to her credit, at a very young age.

[All types of flowers and shrubs and trees (perennials, annuals, deciduous, conifer) in the Mary Gardens, and all different kinds in different sections of the Mary Gardens, such as the Our Lady of Fatima Memorial Rose Garden and the front inner sanctum gardens (not otherwise named yet!), or the side shade garden (what name, Lord, for that one?). They all get along quite well, even if this is no way to comprehend what each is experiencing, or even sometimes know the missions or functions, other than to grow, be beautiful and dependent upon God, love one another and God (and His Catholic Church universe) above all else.]