A few days ago, this statement caught my attention. There is much wealth of information, inspiration, and truth in our Catechism. I'm thankful for all the riches inherent in so many ways and in so many levels of The Holy Catholic Church. So grateful--and hope to be sharing my conversion story but perhaps vlog format rather than blog.
I'm having to deal with more pain than in years. Had a surprise a couple or so days ago when I nearly thought not to bother with seeing the surgeon's PA who had requested I come in. I had merely called out of concern that the osteoporosis specialists had not yet gotten me in for an appointment, after three weeks since the PA's referral.
My bone density is low; the surgeon will need to use some of my bone for the lumbar re-do or whatever all else. Remove the old rods, bone fusion, and lots of bone growth that has accumulated over nearly 32 years since back-to-back, back surgeries. With the increasing pain, I just wanted to be ready for the appointment in June with the very busy surgeon. Did not want to delay too long the surgery--not that I at all am eager for it.
Mercy, no. The situation of July 28-29, 1987 remains vivid in memory. I'm trying to remain all the more in the Order of the Present Moment; but reality reminds I know what I'm heading into. Thanks be to God for His never-ceasing mercy!
So I decide to go to the PA for the appt., in hopes she can get some action with the osteoporosis folks. The PA did some testing to see how the legs and feet are, strength-wise, I guess. She was alarmed, said she had to go to the scheduler as I needed to see the surgeon much sooner. Marked increase in leg and foot weakness.
The PA returned to say have to meet with the surgeon as soon as he returns from being out of the country. This Friday is the appointment. But, she gave dire warnings of which I was not at all expecting. Took me aback, frankly.
Said don't be a martyr. If any of a few symptoms (of which I have some already but not to the degree the PA stated), I must get to the emergency room immediately, and I'd not have this surgeon who is deemed "the best"--but that his colleagues will know what to do.
Eeek! She emphasized the irreversible and serious damage that can arise. What's more--and this indicates how much I've learned to detach from pain for the most part, having lived with constant dose of it for nearly 35 years since the drunk teen careened his car into ours--the PA said no digging no lifting. Not even some upper body manual labor? I thought that would help strengthen and oxygenate the nerves and muscles.
No.
Well, it got into my head, the reality of all this. As a hermit recently into my hermitage, still not settled in that much and having started to work on landscaping which so beautifully takes me closer to His Real Presence in prayer and praise and farther from bodily pain while working, I realized I'd need to line up some temporal support network.
The neighbor boy is willing to water the trees and flowers even if not in the ground prior to surgery. The delightfully sweet and holy Angel--her actual name--has been on call this weekend in case I needed to go to ER. I asked this, for during the day and if I could walk; otherwise I'd call 911. Her son came yesterday to help me grind stumps and chainsaw out more overspent, woody, Barberry bushes planted long enough ago to have overgrown and spilled out on sidewalks. (Barberry not at all a good choice near where people will walk or near deciduous trees shedding leaves in autumn. Barberry are prickly and dead leaf-catchers.)
I did end up grinding 4 or 5 shrub stumps to give M a break and also to demonstrate the grinding technique the man at Home Depot showed me. A total of 23 shrub and small tree stumps were removed by us stump neophytes. We finished just in time for me to get to Mass. M had also not used a chainsaw before, so I demonstrated and did a bit.
But I'd come to a point after a couple of nights in which the PA's dire warnings got too much into my head, if you know what I mean. I prayed for deeper conversion; I thought of people who are gun shot, burn, and other terrible accident victims who have to undergo repeated surgeries. None of them want to, but they do it. My death experience in the surgeries years ago, and my recent concern that I am not fulfilling my mission--not even totally clear on it--played into my thoughts.
Praying for deeper conversion is always going to be answered by God. His Real Presence wants us to come closer and closer to Him; that is part of His salvation mission for our souls when He was on earth and now for all eternity. God wants us to come to Him, come to union with Him. He answered my prayer with the calming of His Divine Mercy. I've repeated many times within, Jesus, I trust in You.
I'm now praying more specifically for deeper conversion, to know more clearly what is my mission if different than what seems a conglomeration of eclectic aspects of serving the Lord these many years in various, mostly hidden, mostly interior ways of prayer and praise and suffering--yes, penance in suffering the Lord has allowed me, asked of me.
Today I know to take it easy. I'm not disregarding the signals the PA mentioned, but I'm not ruminating about them nor fretting. It is as well to keep up and distract from the pain and the unknowns, as living in fear is counter to faith even though fear, as the flip side of faith, can also spur us on in life and in our faith in Christ.
M was going to come this morning to dig holes for us to plant the largest of the trees. He became ill on his way to the hermitage. He called, and I said I'd be praying for him, but to turn around and get home. God will provide, and this is His day as are all days His, or so I certainly consider them. We are all nothing to God's ALL. When we place our trust in His Real Presence, each present moment becomes the reality of being all His, and His ALL.
All the more, as M and I talked yesterday while working--he doing the pull-starting of the stump grinder, pushing it to the next stump, and eventually pushing it back on the cart I'd rented to haul the whole apparatus behind my truck, Precious Blood--a life of prayer is my vocation and work. I spoke of ora et labora, and M asked how work can be prayer.
We did not get too deeply into it; the stump grinder was loud! I also wanted to share various examples and ask him to come up with them, also. His homework can be prayer. His washing his car, his listening to his parents, his last two weeks of his senior year in high school--prayer. Plus, praise of God is prayer, also--a joyous, affirmative, aspirational prayer of love and loyalty of our souls in ultimate gratitude and recognition of our nothingness to His Allness.
But here it is again for those of us Catholic hermits whether privately consecrated and avowed in the traditional, centuries-old eremite path, or in the more recent publicly consecrated and avowed eremite path involving bishop and specific diocese: We hermits have consecrated our whole lives to prayer.
May every present moment be a sacrament of prayer and praise to and of His Real Presence. May I continue to pray for conversions to Christ and deeper, repeated conversions to Christ for myself and for all in the world and the souls in process of purgation who are no longer on this earth. May I glorify God with word-praise oral or interior; may I glorify Him with all forms of temporal and spiritual suffering; may I glorify Him in all I am and think and feel and do--even in the relatively few delightful trees to be planted, the few shrubs, the few flowers.
The Divine Mercy showers love upon and into our souls! Praise Him for His merciful love of all of us!
From The Catechism of the Catholic Church:
2687 Many religious have consecrated their whole lives to prayer. Hermits, monks, and nuns since the time of the desert fathers have devoted their time to praising God and interceding for his people. The consecrated life cannot be sustained or spread without prayer; it is one of the living sources of contemplation and the spiritual life of the Church.
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