Catholic Hermit: The Lord Gives and Takes Away

Praised be the Name of the Lord!

Mercy, the right hand, particularly the thumb down to its base, is acutely painful. The Lord knows what finishing work inside and gardening work outside yet remains.  But the thumb that had a drill whip injury and periodic flare ups the past two years is now needing correction, it seems.  That right hand and the recent back pain siege has been an excellent way for the Lord to remind me of total dependence upon His will in all things.

Ran into temporal hassles trying to get into primary care doctors and Nurse practitioners.  But the pain motivated me, along with the thought from my angel via Holy Spirit, to do an online search for a hand orthopedist.  Found one with good reviews and amazingly with a number for new patients!  Did not need a referral from general practitioner and am going to be seen in a week if not cancellation sooner.  A drill whip injury is quite painful, the thumb laid back with force.  I hoped to avoid surgery but in the silence of solitude and enforced mattress rest for nearly three weeks, I realized I will not be able to use my right hand for much now or in future if not repaired.

The Lord gave me a specialist and not long to wait for some relief.

Yesterday I had quite the nudge to call for an appointment to get the laptop repaired.  Tracking pad has not worked well for awhile, and I thought the warranty up in early December.  But I called due to the nudge within to do so.  Turns out the warranty was up yesterday so was told to go as a walk in customer and wait.  May the Lord be praised!  I do not mind waiting; I've been waiting for Jesus to come for me for some time....  The laptop is out for a week, they think, and I could not have afforded the repair had I called today.  The Lord gives even if He takes temporarily, some tangible tool.

The use of the right hand is taken away for the most part.  When I do use it minimally, the Lord allows pain as the consequence.  I will attempt using the pneumatic Brad nailer to install baseboards upstairs, knowing that I will have increased pain.  When it becomes too much, I will stop.  And I must not complain for the consequences.  The Lord is providing help, on its way sooner than I could have hoped!  I will not push the hand beyond prudence, but I will put it to a small test.

The Lord gives and the Lord takes away.

In reading chapter five of Book Two of The Collected Works of John of the Cross, the gist is that of our letting go of attachment not only in the more temporal senses but to also let go of attachment of the interior senses, of the supernatural aspects of mind, heart and soul.  One is to allow blindness in knowledge, intellect, and understanding, for example, and to let go of attempts to figure out any visions and locutions.  We are to rest in darkness, passively, and allow the Lord full reign over our totality of being.  He will then introduce faith--that faith that passes all understanding and ushers our souls into union with God.

The Lord gives, thus, when attachments are taken away.  When our attempts to see are taken, blindness is given.  This type of blindness is good.  Blind faith is what God desires, yet it occurs by His grace and of taking our supernatural attachments and giving us divine union--that we then see as God sees, fully united within His will.

I hope and pray that is the path I'm on.  I have no idea, but I hope and pray that He takes whatever attachments and gives blind faith at some point.  Am very weary, and passivity is a welcome position.

The Lord decides.  The Lord wills and bequeaths the giving and the taking away.

With whatever we are, love God.

Typical Temporal Trials and a Mystical Song

Woke up shortly after midnight last, hearing a strange sound in the hermitage.  Finally figured it was not coming from inside but perhaps under the old farmhouse, in cellar.  Flashlight and coat over pajamas, and down into the tiny opening to cellar.  I found a geyser shooting up four feet from the sump pump basin.  Pulled the plug and amazingly not electrocuted as the earthen cellar floor has been soaked for a month or more since it flooded when previous sump pump broke.

I plugged it back in, and it started to pump again.  By morning when I checked, the pump then would not stop, which it is supposed to when water is not high.  Was running the motor non-stop.  Opened up the back-up sump pump and installed it.   Brought in an extension cord to hook up small fan to at least try to circulate what air a tiny fan will.  The cellar reeks of too much moisture in closed off area.

Otherwise, I spent the day on the mattress, at first in state of unrest.  It was not just the sump pump issues but having hired a Godly young man to help, and one day he brought a younger brother and friend.  My three adult children are graciously chipping in to pay since my finances are stretched and a point of concern.  But the help and I did not accomplish all that much for how much it cost after three days.

Much guilt on that, but today I pondered the situation.  With spiritual pain high and coming out of great spiritual darkness, and the weight of so much manual work yet to do here, and the lifestyle hardship of such ascetic existence--at least for my body and age--today I considered why the unrest.

Am weary with pain, and have not had the best of sleep at nights--even though last night was actually better than some despite the cellar crisis.  I was able to return to sleep after awhile.  But I am not used to people here, young people, and especially the day there were three.  My pain was high, and it was difficult for me to think on how to frame in for a pocket door which involved a slanted ceiling for part of the task and also jutting the top plate in another section of ceiling.

Yes, I had to think it through while doing it, and the main young man hired wanted to keep busy, and we had to re-do several times.  None of it his doing wrong.  Well, that was the second day, after all.  

I am so in pain right now I can't think what we did the first day--started the framing of the first part of the wall, yes.  The second day the younger boys carried in drywall and up the ladder; not easy but took quite awhile. I asked them to cut some pieces, and I did not realize that it all takes instruction, even though I tried to describe.  I do better seeing it done, myself, so I needed to stop my addled wall framing brain to demonstrate.  Makes sense to do so.

Well, by the third day just the one young man helping, and although we worked all but lunch break, we did not get much done again,  Tightened some sink pop-up valves installed requiring an extra set of hands, then put together the kitchen faucet that the cabinet installer's helper had, previously, totally reduced to pieces and parts (did not know he could remove plumbing less drastically, evidently).  So we got that installed, only for me to discover that the turn on handle is sticking to the side.  Will have to wait for someone to come along to hold it if I can loosen underneath to swing the handle in proper position.

Does not matter.  I need to refigure out how to do the p-traps.  Plus, under the house we discovered, thanks to the young man there helping, that I had neglected to hook up one cold water line!  Need parts to finish that task.  So we tried to finish the third day by hanging some drywall, but somehow that did not go so well, either. I made errors in cutting an outlet box, and I discovered that the day before another piece of drywall was damaged in the carrying in, so will have to alter my plan for it.

So today I felt terribly guilty about all the cost for very little accomplished.  And I do need help now and then but the costs added up horrifically and thought we could do more.  Much is due to the many glitches that occur when I have never done some of the tasks, ever.  I also discovered that a man I'd hired awhile back had not installed my downstairs pocket door correctly, but maybe it can be remedied without my having to take out drywall....  So that was spent money, also, and involves more work on my part to fix it.  Seems not to matter always if the person is skilled or not.

The young man who came and brought younger brother and friend for one of the three days, is a marvelous young man!  Godly young man!  So it has nothing to do with any of that.  I just am not used to much activity with others, for one thing; and it is hard to teach that which I am figuring out and learning, myself.  Plus, I am so used to solitude!  Amazing how solitude affects in unexpected ways!

I think an issue today is due to more pain, so I sought to find the center of my soul again. Perhaps it also has to do with the juncture of the outer world with that of a mystic and hermit, and how difficult it is to have others enter in.  Having the quiet of one person went better, but still, it took quite awhile to accomplish much.  Plumbing is not a rush task, and then we had the glitches, anyway.  Always have glitches here; obstacles abound even with the place blessed now.

I'm cold, as well.  Was told the costly heat pump would easily heat the entire downstairs.  It warms the upstairs even with insulation between floors....  And I have a space heater in this tiny cell of a room and still have to wear a hat to keep the head warm.  But what mostly I've  come to, today, trying to keep the pain under control as much as possible while resting totally, is that I must stay mostly in my element of the spiritual; and that I function in quietude yet do need assistance for some tasks.  It is a difficult dilemma when rather ill with physical pain, on top of other aspects.

But a very positive aspect was just how wonderful it was--even fun--to have the young men here, talking, joking, wanting to work hard and my not having the energy, I suppose, or wherewithal to keep them always busy or instructing them on efforts.  Was tired especially by second day!  Yet, it was a true uplift to have the help and the human company after a long time of solitude and increased physical pain, and probably the darkest night of soul ever...yet.

So after the guilt of thoughts of not enough accomplishment and feeling terrible that others were paying so much for my lack, I turned to the Lord; and I thought of this piece of beautiful music by once more, Brian Wilson, founder of the Beach Boys.  I listen to this song which is mystical to me--the tones, the chords, the instrumentation.  And the lyrics speak to me of only Jesus, of His talking to me, drawing me close, having me feel His heart beat, and telling me to "Listen, Listen, Listen."

Tomorrow is another day.  Am thankful for the night.  I need to get on coat and shoes and with flashlight head to the cellar to check the new sump pump and shut the door to keep rats out.  Will take quite an effort of body and mind to do it in the cold and chill.  But I shall.  Listen.  Listen.  Listen.